#note: this story has drinking with the intention of getting blackout drunk. reader discretion advised.

[an-aura-about-you]

Drinking Acquaintances

I’ve been listening to a Lunar 1 let’s play during work and I decided to write in that universe again.

Nash holds his drink up, the light from the Blue Star tinted green from the amber in his glass. The ale (he THINKS it’s ale) in Lann isn’t bad in theory, though that’s an assumption since he hasn’t tried it yet. But he knows what drinks he likes and this generally isn’t what he looks for. He can already tell from the aroma that whatever this is is sweeter than his tastes, which means either it’s been sweetened or it’s not going to be very strong. Taste might not be why he wants to drink it, but it’s going to be more of a chore if he has to drink a lot of it.

He decides to stop stalling and drink the damn draught.

Nash gets about half the glass down, pulling a face when he stops. It’s growing on him, but wow, it’s so sweet and full-bodied he might as well be drinking straight honey. He wonders if Kyle would bother drinking this or if it’s more suitable to Jessica or Mia’s tastes. Either way, sober beggars can’t be choosers.

Down the hatch.

“Hey Nash!”

Nash nearly chokes on his drink but fortunately manages to get it down the right pipe.

Kyle leans over to check on him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Just surprised to see you drinking. It really must be the end of the world.”

Nash wipes his mouth with his wrist and goes, “Some of us have discerning tastes. All that’s happened is you’ve caught me making an exception. Speaking of, it’s rare to see you intelligible.”

“The night is young and I’ve only just started,” Kyle says before taking a swig from his own glass. “But I kinda wanna take this to Tamur so that maybe it’ll be a good glass of beer when it grows up.”

Nash stifles a laugh. “Imagine that, we agree on something.”

“Not to mention the both of us being smart enough to not turn down free booze.”

Kyle has a point on that. One glass down, no idea how many more to go, but at least they’re not the ones paying for them thanks to Lann naming Alex an honorary citizen and letting the alcohol flow like water. It won’t be enough for alcohol poisoning at this rate, but Nash can still work himself into a good, proper stupor and maybe not think about how screwed he is.

He already needs another drink.

“Are we the only ones drinking?” Nash asks, waving over someone with a bottle for a refill.

“I think we’re the only ones not done,” Kyle answers. “Jess already had her fill, and Alex and Mia turned it down.” He grins and says, “One of these days, Jess is gonna talk Mia into a drink, and then it’ll be all over for the two of us.”

“Mia doesn’t-,” Nash begins, but he backpedals to say, “I’ve never seen Mia drink.”

Kyle shrugs his arms wide. “So? Doesn’t mean she can’t if she wants to. ‘Snot like you’re the boss of her.”

Nash looks down at his glass at that. Every choice in front of him is the wrong one. Might as well keep it up. He takes another drink.

“Hey Nash.”

Nash turns to Kyle, the brigand wearing an oddly serious frown. It’s not that he’s never seen it before. It’s just usually not directed to him.

“I wanted to apologize,” Kyle says. “For teasing you about Mia back in Damon’s Spire.”

Nash scowls and furrows his brow. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do!” Kyle insists. “Look, Nash, I know we don’t always see eye to eye, that’s probably never gonna happen.”

“Then why are you bothering, especially when you know I don’t believe you?” Nash asks before taking another sip.

“Because the way you looked when you saw Mia fall over sick in Pao was the way I felt when I saw the same thing happen to Jess.”

It’s Kyle’s turn to take a drink after that, and Nash contemplates his words in the brief silence.

Kyle continues with, “I see that look in a man’s eyes, I know he’s gonna do for his girl what I’d do for Jess. It doesn’t feel right calling that a crush.”

“To be fair, Jessica was the one who called it a crush,” Nash points out.

“Yeah, but I was thinking it pretty loud.”

Nash considers this as he works on what’s in his glass. Once he’s made a bit more headway, he says, “Well, thank you, Kyle. I actually do appreciate that.”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to make a habit of it,” Kyle replies.

“Perish the thought. I likewise hope you don’t take me for a drunkard.”

Kyle makes a scoffing laugh and goes, “You? You can’t be a drunk until you actually try drinking with me.”

Nash gestures with his glass and says, “I should stand a little ways away, then. I wouldn’t want to think of us developing any sort of camaraderie.”

“Woah, let’s not go crazy. I don’t hate you, but we’re not going that far.”

Nash laughs in spite of himself.

“Hey, look at that: you actually do have a sense of humor!” Kyle says.

“It’s the drink,” Nash protests.

“C’mon, even you aren’t that much of a lightweight.”

Rather than answer that, Nash gets another glass of ale and works to find the least risky discussion he can now so he can hopefully stay on it when he’s really gone.

Just tell him, his brain whispers. Tell him the truth and get your head lobbed off. It’ll be quicker and less painful than anything else that could happen. You wouldn’t even have to make any other choices.

He keeps drinking.

“So, what’re you gonna do when all this is over?” Kyle asks. “See if Mia will wanna settle down with you? You’d probably make a good trophy husband for her.”

Well, so much for that. Nash looks at what’s left in his glass, focusing on that and not what could happen. “The only future I’m looking at right now is another glass of ale.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Kyle agrees, being tactful for once and not pushing Nash about his obvious sidestep.

It’s the last moment Nash remembers from the night, the last thing besides sickly sweet oblivion.

-

Nash steps into the Seagull Tavern, both grateful and a little pissed off that he can. It’s one thing to survive during a war. It’s another to survive during a war you’re going to lose. It’s yet another to survive during a war when you should be dead already and wonder why anyone bothered to bring you back when you’re just going to die again.

“You bastard.”

He isn’t surprised to hear that, but he still looks up to see who said it this time. It’s even less surprising to find it came from Kyle, who’s sitting at a table and on what looks to be at least his fifth drink judging from the glasses on the table.

“You bastard, Nash, you were right,” Kyle tells him with a brief, violent gesture of his glass. “Fuck you.”

“I deserve that,” Nash responds, approaching the table. “Believe it or not, I didn’t want to be right about this.”

“Shuddup,” he slurs. “If you’re not drinking, get outta here.”

“What else would I be doing in a tavern?” he asks in response. “I’ll even buy your next drink.”

Kyle scowls at him before relenting, a mirror to Nash’s own despair.

It shakes him a moment. He certainly doesn’t know the brigand well, but this is the first time he’s seen such sheer hopelessness cross his face. He never thought he’d have anything in common with the muscle-bound imbecile, especially this.

As if to hammer it home, Kyle says, “Why the hell not? What does it matter? We’re all gonna die anyway.”

“No, all of you are going to die,” Nash responds, taking a seat while thinking through their mutual resignation. “I’m going to get horribly tortured, and if I’m lucky I’ll die.”

“We were gonna do the same thing to you.”

“It’s not the same at all. Ripping me apart would still be more merciful than whatever Ghaleon has planned for me.” He waves over a waitress to order a drink. “Rewarded as a traitor deserves.”

Kyle looks over his glass in a slight fog of inebriated confusion. “I’d offer to help, but I don’t think I could take yer head off clean until I’m sober.”

“I can wait.”

He puts his glass down and says, “I’m never gettin’ sober again.”

“Well, thanks anyway. It’s the thought that counts, after all.”

Nash gets his drink, idly surprised that the Seagull Tavern actually does have cocktails as well as glasses to serve them in. But then, if there’s any cocktail that should be expected in any bar, it should be a nice, dry martini. He takes a sip and gets one more surprise, learning that it’s not as awful as he expected. In fact, it’s actually kind of good. Now this is the proper way, or at least the most proper way available to him, to get drunk.

“Shoulda known you drink cocktails,” Kyle says. “Wha’s next, a fuzzy navel?”

“I’m never going to drink anything sweet again,” Nash answers. “Not after that ale in Lann. That felt like it took forever.”

“Oh yeah,” Kyle responds. And then he adds with just enough anger riled up in his voice, “Can’t believe we were actin’ like friends. I shoulda killed you then.”

“If you had, it would have been the friendliest thing you ever did for me.”

“Yeah, well... I can’t now.”

Nash finishes his martini and moves to order another. “The only problem with this is it takes a while for the liquor to get to your head.”

“Somethin’ that never happens with beer,” Kyle points out.

“Oh let me have this; if everything’s going to hell, I might as well have a martini or two.”

“It does feel pointless,” Kyle agrees. “You know what? Fuck it. Y’did what y’did, but can’t stop it now. Why be pissed at you for th’ rest of our lives when we can drink?”

“Another rare agreement,” Nash says, holding his glass up in toast.

-

Nash looks out to the Meribian Sea, enjoying the salt of the night breeze and the martini in his hand. It’s the first moment he’s had alone since everything ended, time to contemplate his strange new situation.

For one thing, he’s alive. For another, so is everyone else he wanted to survive out of this. And not only are his companions not going to torture him, they’re actually all on about the best terms he can expect, some better than he hoped.

“Hey Nash!”

Well, so much for solitary thought, but Kyle showing up is not unwelcome this time around.

“Hey Kyle,” he greets back, not bothering to turn and face him. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“One day you’ll make a good joke, but that day’s not today,” Kyle responds, heading over with his glass of beer. “So, living in Meribia, huh? How you likin’ it?”

Nash shrugs. He didn’t get to that part yet, didn’t want to rush into it since it’s one of the bigger changes. But that’s Kyle, subtle as a sledgehammer.

“It’s weird,” Nash answers, pausing to sip his martini. “But anywhere that’s not Vane was going to feel weird to me. It seems like if I just look up in the right spot, I’ll see it. Even now, it feels like I’m spending too much time here and should go find Mia so we can go home.”

Kyle lets that sit a moment before saying, “Yeah. Is it too optimistic to think of it like being on vacation? I mean, you’ll get to go home eventually, right?”

Nash chuckles ruefully and goes, “Rebuilding Vane is going to take a lot of work.”

“It is,” Kyle agrees. “How’s Mia? Is she just as miserable about what happened as you are?”

“At this point, she’s more concerned about Majesty Lemia,” Nash answers. “And who can blame her? But even now, when she’s working, she’s already looking straight ahead at what Vane can become.”

“Man, you better not need me to tell you not to mess it up with Mia again.”

“I don’t plan on it, but if I do I’m acknowledging right here and now I deserve whatever I get. Fair?”

“Fair.”

“So, do you want to hear the other weird part?”

“Depends on how weird it is,” Kyle says before taking a drink himself.

“Not as weird as everything else but still odd: at this rate, you’re the person I’ve had the most drinks with.”

“That’s not so weird. I’m usually that person for everybody. No surprise Jess calls me an enabler.”

Nash shakes his head a little and says, “I wonder how bad it would get if all of us went out for a drink together.”

“Pretty sure that’s the definition of shitshow, Nash.”

“You’re probably right. Is it bad that I kind of want to see it anyway?”

“Nah,” Kyle says with a grin. “It’d probably be a funny shitshow.”

Nash shrugs. “Maybe it’ll happen one day. Who knows? Maybe one of these days we’ll go out to get a drink and actually plan to do it instead of one of us just butting in when the other one tries to drink.”

Kyle snorts into his glass. “Like drinking buddies? I dunno about that.”

“When you put it like that, you have a point. Us drinking buddies? The Blue Star might fall out of the sky before that happens.”

Nash immediately regrets his wording as soon as it leaves his mouth, shutting up to take another sip.

“Eh, we can still drink now,” Kyle says to gloss over it. “In any case, I’m not about to waste this brew.”

“Tell you what, we ever agree to go drinking anywhere, we’ll go to Tamur,” Nash suggests. “I never did get to try the beer last time, but anything’s bound to be better than Lann.”

“I can agree to that.” Kyle takes his turn to life his glass. “To not drinking in Lann ever again!”

“Cheers!” Nash toasts before the two of them get back to their drinks.

#note: this story has drinking with the intention of getting blackout drunk. reader discretion advised. #alcohol mention #suicidal ideation #also this is a piece of fanfiction that won't make sense unless you've gone through the game and know it pretty well #also yes in the game the people of Lann point out that they're kids #but it's also established that Kyle and Jessica are old enough to drink which means Nash is also old enough since he's Jessica's age #Alex and Mia are possibly too young but is that going to stop the party? nope!