

I have a thought for a DAI based drinking game, but I am not sure how the mechanics of it would actually work. Anyway, my rough idea is having to take a shot of bourbon (or whatever) whenever you read any of the following types of comments on BSN.
- It breaks my immersion!
- My choices don't matter!
- Don't encourage them to charge for DLCs!
- Give me better hair!
- Why can't combat be more like DA:O?
- Why can't the whole damned game just be DA:O redone?!
- Bioware sucks, I am never buying their crap again, and that's why I hang out on their forums!
And so forth...
Thing is, how would it work? Would you have to have the 2010s equivalent of LAN parties? Have friends over and take turns scrolling down topics? Should the drinks be watered down? I mean, let's face it, a few of this would probably lead to people dying from alcohol poisoning.
Feedback for improving the idea much appreciated!
Official DrinkQuisition media now in the spoiler below. Video clips, slogans, etc. Will add as appropriate:
Official toast: Feck off!
(Courtesy of ParagonsLustre, who also introduced us, IIRC, to the official video below)
Official video:
Official seal:
(Everyone thank the wonderously talented Madame Dame Tasmit for the official DQ Seal Of Approval)

Official Herald, Pre-Cabot, now dead cuz he got greedy with the cookie dough:

That's all for now...
Update April 18, 2015: We are, apparently, a shrine to Satan now... Not sure how this came about, but there you go. Therefore, I present the following, which is sub-spoilered because the last vestiges of my Southern Baptist upbringing still pull some strings.

Official DrinkQuisition related fan fiction now in spoiler below!
Salt and Dr. Pepper: A Better Love Story Than Twilight - By HB
The Iron Roy strolled into the Drinkquisition bar after a hard, stressful night of working.
She was in a particularly bad mood, and rolled her eyes when she walked in and almost slipped on Maryden's innards splattered all over the floor.
She looked around, and saw the usual patrons. The volus was arguing with Rivaini, something something about child support.
HB, typically, was surrounded by a group of horny, naked Asari poledancers, swooning over her and flirting, while she downed mug after mug of rum.
Poodle/sparkles was attempting to get into the Dame's pants. The Dame however, remained polite, but didn't let him get any.
Harding had just strolled in, and was informing anybody of who was listening, that a crazy loon at showed up nearby, obsessed with morphing Cassandra's face to look more feminine.
Everyone greeted Roy, but she just mumbled something to everyone and sat by herself in a corner. She called to Cabot to get her a Dr. Pepper, and nearly punched him out when he responded with, "Sorry Roy, but we're out. We won't be getting the stock for a couple of days."
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!?" She screeched at him, shaking her fist.
He shrugged. "Sorry Roy. You could have some mead instead?"
"I'll show you mead." She said, jumping the counter and kicking him in the nuts.
He howled like a little girl and dropped to the floor.
She picked up one of Maryden's intestines off the floor, and started whipping him relentlessly with it. He screamed and moaned.
Suddenly, a voice spoke from behind her.
"What's going on here?" The voice was familar, and strange at the same time. It was a hybrid of Alistair and Solas, which made the Iron Roy almost jump out of her skin.
She whirled around to face the man with the voice, and her heart almost melted.
Standing there, was a large bottle of Dr Pepper, with muscular, manly arms and legs. Her heart began to beat fast, and she forgot all about Maryden's bloody intestine in her hand. She was speechless, and her mouth was dry.
"Did that man harass you?" Dr. Pepper asked.
"Uh... um..." She stuttered.
Cabot, meanwhile, was crying. Voly strolled over, wearing his nurse outfit, and comforted Cabot, helping him up and cuddling him for comfort, patting him on the back.
"Don't mind her," Voly then spoke to the Dr. Pepper man, "She's just having a rough night. The bar ran out of Dr. Pepper."
Dr. Pepper-man turned and looked at Roy, and smiled. "Never fear. I'm here. Care to take a stroll outside, my lady?"
So they went outside, Roy was nervous and was doing all she could to gain some courage to talk to the sexiest man she had ever met in her life.
He took her hand in his, and her heart skipped a few beats, her stomach fluttering as they enjoyed the cool night air.
He stopped, and looked into her eyes. "This may sound crazy but.. I think you are my soulmate, my lady."
He unscrewed his bottle top, and with his other hand, beckoned to her seductively. "I want you to join your lips to mine."
She stared at him for a few moments, before responding. Though she almost choked. "It's a good thing I swallow."
He winked, and leaned forward for her to have a taste. For the longest time, they were joined in an embrace that would last a blissful eternity. She caressed his glass sides and gulped back every last drop of his fizzy seed.
They would be together forever and ever, as true soulmates.
*THE END*
Untitled - Duelist_76
Her eyes fell shut as it slapped her cheek; the cool sensation of it's tip eliciting trembles from her as it traced a line toward her mouth, her tongue caressing it as if calling it toward her parted lips.
"I do this out of love," she whispered, mouth enveloping it's length.
"I sure do love my Dr Pepper."
And with a final contented sigh, she poured the contents of her bottle into her mouth.
The Great Cheese Emergency - Lynroy / Iron Roy / The Will
Ferelden is the first to declare a state of emergency when the cheese is missing from King Alistair’s brunch. "Ha ha, very funny guys. Now where's my cheese?"
The servants shuffled their feet and looked around nervously as the King's gaze fell upon each of them in turn. None of them wanted to be the bearer of bad news. Finally, after a long awkward pause, "Ahem, there is no cheese, your Majesty. We've scoured the markets and no one seems to have any. The kitchens just ran out."
Alistair laughed still thinking this was some joke. "Right, good one. I'll nip down to the kitchens myself then."
"No, really, your Majesty, there's none to be had in the palace!"
"What? No!" Alistair exclaimed as he raced out of the room and through the halls all the way down to the kitchens.
The denizens of the palace knew something had thrown the King into a fury. They tried get out of his way as he thundered through corridors and down stairs. Alistair burst through the kitchen doors in a flurry nearly knocking over an elf carrying a stack of plates.
"Dorn, careful with those plates! They are brand new, recently arrived from--oh, your Majesty! To what do we owe the pleasure this time? More Venatori?"
Alistair took a deep breath and, with exaggerated patience, asked, "Where's my cheese?"
The cook sighed, "I knew this would happen. We're all out."
"This again. I think all of you are messing with me. I'll tear this kitchen apart if I have to!" And with that, Alistair proceeded to tear the kitchens apart looking for cheese that wasn't there. Cabinets were searched, pots and pans tossed pell-mell, food pantry emptied, their contents strewn everywhere, and every container searched again and again. All the while the cook flinched as his once organized kitchen was turned to shambles.
"Please, Majesty, stop! This will take ages to fix." the cook protested as Alistair emerged from one of the pantries covered in flour.
He did not take seem to notice the cook speak at all. "Bring me my Mabari."
King Alistair’s Mabari was a special gift from an equally special friend. Some whispered they were much more than friends.
"What? No! I let you destroy my kitchen, but I draw the line at letting that beast in here."
"That beast can sniff out cake on a battlefield. Besides, he can help clean up this food mess."
"He can't sniff out what is not there! There's none in all Denerim. Hell, there's no cheese to be found this side of the Frostbacks!"
A look of horror slowly spread across Alistair’s face as the cook's words sunk in. "First the blight, then a big hole in the sky, and now this! Maker, will it ever end? I'm declaring a state of emergency, send word to Orlais, Antiva, Rivain, the Marcher States! We're running out of cheese."
Ferelden was just the start. Riots broke out all over as people tried to hoard cheese.
As the months rolled by, there seemed to be no end. Dalish attacks on caravans increased as the elves grew desperate. Orlesians tried to survive on cheese substitues. Fancy parties with stinky cheese became only a memory. Who will save Thedas from this new threat?





Guest_Roly Voly_*
Retour en haut








