Alphonse and his group stood in front of a derelict building, or so he thought, but the booming sound of rock music penetrated the rough metallic walls. A decrepit sign rocked back and forth, barely staying bolted onto the walls of the building. “Dusty Root.” Or at least that’s what Alphonse thought it had said. It was hard to tell. They had scribbled words on with a faint black-brownish liquid that had dribbled down, staining the signpost completely.

“This is it.” Tariq smiled. He was about to walk forwards when the doors blasted open, a body rocketed towards them like a cannonball being loosed from its barrel.

Alphonse grabbed hold of Felecia as he stepped to the side, the body narrowly missing them as it crashed into the ground. It was someone they recognised. It was a second year they had seen at the canteen.

“Fucking new comers–doing what they want–ignoring the damned rules.” A muscular man dusted his palms off. Thick calluses formed almost like a second skin across his palms. Black, detailed tattoos trailed along his arm as they ascended further, across his neck and cascading intricately down the other arm. His deep voice thrummed into their ears. “I’m warning you now kid,” His leering brown eyes hovered over them from the doorway. “Follow the rules or don’t bother coming in, for your own good.”

“I’ve been here before, with Jack.” Tariq stepped forwards, a trickle of sweat formed at the side of his forehead. His eyes looked up, then down, as the large man stood there.

“Alright Jacks’ a decent lad, gone’ then.” The large, tattooed man stood to the side as he let the young group enter.

Felecia once more looked at Tariq, surprising to her. He was the one with all the answers in this place. “Him?” She asked.

Tariq shook his head. “I haven’t a clue, but he's the protector of this place, or the bouncer. It’s all the same, really.”

“Hey Tariq, were you some sort of street rat back home?” Markus asked.

“W-well, yeah I was, I suppose. My father was a gangster, got up to some dirty shit, and I kinda got roped into it all. You know, it’s hard to stay on the straight and narrow when you’re surrounded by those kinda folks.” A faint smile appeared on Tariq’s face. His shoulders tensed up. However, a sound boomed forward. The sound of rock music assaulted everyone’s ears as the second set of doors opened. It was… strangely comforting. The thick foggy haze of the smoke that threatened to choke him, the clattering of beer glasses and the constant raucous shouting to hear each other. These were the sounds that reminded him of home.

Alphonse’s eyes skimmed around the room. It was clean within the pub, unlike the outside. Someone had cleaned the chairs, not a stain was visible in sight. The gruff personalities within used coasters on the tables, in fear of leaving behind any marks. The countertops were void of any markings or chips displaying a sort of respect within the pub.

“C’mon, first rounds on me, seeing as I dragged you all here,” Tariq walked up to the counter. “Long time no see, Daisy. You’re still as beautiful as always.”

“Who the hell are you?” The woman behind the counter snarled.

Tariq’s head moved to either side as he saw the gloating reactions from his group. His face turned a deep scarlet red. “I-It’s me, Tariq, you know me… right?” A nervous chuckle escaped from his mouth as his palms sweat.

“Tar… Tariq,” Daisy placed her finger against her rose-tinted lips. “Ahh, it’s quite vague, I’m afraid. Are you the kid that got chased away by a bunch of ladies a few weeks ago?”

“I-I didn’t get chased away!” Tariq placed his hand on the countertop, his fluttering. “They gave me their numbers.”

“Give it a rest, will you?” Markus sighed, his large hand placed gently on his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll have some luck next time. Maybe even some babes will chuck themselves at you.”

“I didn’t know that being a celebrity meant that you were a ghost. Good work.” Alphonse grinned as he sat up on the bar stool.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Hello, handsome. What would it be today?” Daisy’s eyes watched Alphonse as she was busy cleaning a class with a soft, white towel. Her hands expertly roamed around the translucent material, adeptly making sure that no fingerprints were being left.

Handsome? I guess the charisma points are at least doing something. Alphonse smiled at the thought.

“I’m not sure. It’s my first time here. How about the house special?” Alphonse’s finger tapped against the counter as his eyes drifted to the many bottles behind the bar. All kinds of colors sparkled underneath the disco lights behind him. One bottle was bubbling all on its own as small glittering fragments of something floated within.

Alphonse felt his arm being nudged to his side.

“Al, you don’t want the house special, trust me.” Tariq’s eyes flashed with fear, as it was already too late. The drink was already being poured and placed in front of Alphonse.

“Eww, what is that?” Felecia stuck up her nose at the drink. It was green, with white streaky liquid squirming within.

“Are you sure that’s drinkable?” Alphonse touched the glass as a penetratingly powerful odor surged towards his nostrils.

“Drinkable? That’s rather offensive. It’s the house special.” Daisy frowned. Alphonse could feel the temperature in the room dampen into a cold. It was a feeling he knew well. It was fear.

Alphonse grabbed hold of the drink, the impossibly high content of the alcohol tipped down into his throat. He felt the strange sensation of something wriggling its way into his stomach. However, his man-eating acid quickly burned it away. The expected sensation of alcohol sending his brain into a frenzy didn’t happen. His stomach refused to let it happen.

Wait, I can’t get drunk? Stupid fucking ability. Alphonse loosely held his stomach.

< Apocalypto Bevvie consumed >

| 2.7 Strength added

| 3.6 Intelligence added

| 3.2 Charisma added

An alcoholic drink that grants intelligence? I get the charisma part, maybe? I mean, it depends if you’re a funny drunk, I suppose. Alphonse thought as his eyes lingered on the stats. It was a never ending addicting feeling. Wait, was he addicted to the numbers going up? Anything that granted him Intelligence was a godsend, he couldn’t wait to blast monsters to bits with his [ Ice Arts ].

It shocked Daisy to see the young man still standing. He seemed unfazed entirely. “Boy, I know people with bodies as strong as bulls cannot handle the Apocalypto Bevvie.”

“Wait, then why would you sell it to me?” Alphonse raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I was curious, is all,” Daisy broke out into a grin. “Besides, who am I to refuse a customer when they are shaking their precious little credits? On that note, that will be 2.4 credits.”

Daisy held out her personal device. Alphonse placed his device against her own as it completed the transaction. The credit transfer was instant.

“A pint of Gliscor, please.” Haydon sat down.

“Sure thing.” Daisy got to work as she began pouring the drink.

“Is that good, Haydon?” Felecia looked in wonder as it was being poured. It looked… normal.

“It is. It’s bitter but sweet. Not too strong either.” Haydon grabbed hold of the glass. The coldness of the liquid had already formed condensation on the glass. He gulped down the brew, and then let out a relieving sigh.

Felecia licked her lips. Without asking, Daisy already began pouring another drink. Alphonse watched her work. It was entrancing watching someone that was great at something. It would have been therapeutic if not for the booming of rock music tickling his eardrums.

Daisy placed the drink in front of Felecia. Without waiting, her hands snatched it up and began gulping down the cold, satisfying brew. The crisp liquid sent goosebumps around her arms, as the chilly sensation continued down to her stomach. Soon, the entire glass had was finished as her head spun, her eyes unfocused.

“No way, Felecia. It was one glass.” Tariq shook his head in disappointment.

“Sh-shut up, T-taroq. You're so anoy-ing,” Felecia giggled to herself. “Anotha one!”

“Aye, aye missy.” Daisy wryly smiled as she quickly set out another fresh brew.

“You think she’ll go back to her usual self?” Markus whispered into Alphonse’s ear.

“I hope so.” Alphonse nodded. He had no memories of what home was, just certain places and that it was called Earth. The only memories he could recall were when he arrived in the Garden of Eden and of the mission after it. He didn’t know what family was or what they were like. He just knew this was as close as it came.