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He still couldn’t believe the old man had actually agreed to it. Sure, sure, he’d asked, but he asked for all sorts of random crap. He even wanted some of it, but most of the time he just wanted to see the old man’s face. But he'd agreed! ...so long as he promised to leave Velkinoth at home. Velk was still all pouty about it, but he'd get over it. Plus Mitra had promised to shoot him drunk while Crow wasn't looking.
The old man never let him drink! Something about being unstable enough already. Or something. He tended to zone him out when he was being boring. Which he was trying to be now, even though there was all this booze here!
“Hey! Hey Yuno!”
“Hmm? What else can I get you boys? You celebrating something?”
“Nope,” he replied cheerfully. Crow rolled his eyes. “But he isn't having fun yet. What've you got for him?”
“Hmm. He looks like a whiskey man to me. Let me fill you up.”
“I really don't think that's-”
“C'mooooon, just loosen up for once. Just once. It won't kill you, will it? People really will think you're an old man~”
He put on what Crow always called his puppy dog face. It never worked, but it never stopped him trying.
“I- Ugh, fine.” Wait what? The old man never broke like this. Something weird was up, that was for sure- Oh hey more beer!
It was kind of weird actually. People kept buying him drinks. He was pretty sure he even knew some of them. The guy from the arena bought him one, but he seemed pretty friendly and probably got them for loads of people. So did the priest guy - he'd passed one to Mitra, and got three more for himself. (Was that strip poker he was playing with the blue hair guy? He wasn't wearing much. He'd have to suggest it to Crow and watch his face.) Roi showed up, and gave one to Crow. “You too, huh?” was all he said, and then he gave a strange look before going back to being yelled at by a girl in a big hat. She seemed kind of annoying. Gladi (who must have joined the strip poker because his shirt had vanished) brought him another. Two knights bought him one, but he couldn't remember their names and he wasn't sure which of them was a girl. A girl who kept trying to stare at his butt. His bestest bestest friend Gladi (apart from Velk because Velk got jealous) brought him one and then they talked for ages about stuff which was really really important but that he couldn't remember straight after because he, Mitra, may have been just a tiny little bit very drunk.
“Heeey. Hey, old maaan,” he slurred, poking him in the cheek. “You- you look really funny right now.” He had no idea why. But there wasn't a shred of doubt in his very inebriated mind that it wasn't true. “Hey, can we get Velk? We wanna see if Gra- Gladi can stop bullets with his abs.”
Crow narrowed his eyes at him, though h
It seemed to take him a little while. “No.”
“It's fine. I'm Gladi after all.”
“Right! And it was his idea! Gladi has the best ideas. You have the best ideas.”
“No. And you've had enough.”
“Aww, you have the worst ideas. Gladiiii~”
“Let's have more drinks!”
“Seeee old man?” He definitely wasn't done, even if Gladi was basically holding him up.
“I said-” began Crow, standing up a going for the demon punch. Except something weird happened. His legs almost seemed to collapse out from under him, and instead of making Mitra cry he ended up a tangle of limbs on the floor.
“Ahaha, ahaa, hahaha-” Mitra could barely breathe for laughing, and it only got worse when Gladi slung the weakly protesting Crow over his shoulder. How many had he even had? Somewhere between six and twelve? He wasn't even mad when Gladi picked him up too, because at least he could see forward. The old man was just trying to punch him in the back.
“I'm taking them home.”
“Phrasing, Gladi,” Juno said, in a old man is disappointed voice.
“Onward!” Mitra laughed, sliding slightly as he pointed.
Gladi dumped them on his couch. Mitra couldn't stop laughing, and the old man had really been hit since he moved. That he'd literally been dropped on top of the old man didn't bother him, but even completely wasted he still had some survival instincts, and went to move.
“W's a good boy?” Crow mumbled, using all his concentration to scratch Mitra's head.
“I am, it's me right? I'm a good boy, the bestest?” he gushed, in a sentence that would probably make him want to shoot himself when he was sober.
“Bull-” slurred the old man, but he never managed to finish the word before he fell asleep. Mitra didn't last much longer.
He woke up to being shoved roughly onto the floor. Apparently he'd fallen asleep curled up on the old man's chest, so maybe his life was slightly forfeit.
“...Where are we?” Crow looked around, wincing as he moved.
“Gladi's house, I think? It's a bit fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure he carried us here.”
“Who? Ngh. I'm never drinking with you again.”
“Aww. Didn't you at least have fun?”
“...Not really.”
“Huh? Then why did you agree?”
The old man gave him a Look. “It was your birthday you damn mongrel.”
“...What.”
Gladi walked in before the old man could kill him. “Morning. I made breakfast.”
“I told you he was the best!”
“Sorry to impose,” Crow grumbled.
“Not a problem! Happens all the time! One question though. Who are you guys?”
“...Where the hell is Akistra.”