Out in the city, dark events transpired. Cosmic horrors were unleashed. People fought for their lives. People ran in fear. Ran for their lives. In opposition to all the terror of the night, nice things were happening, too. Children went door to door, begging candy from strangers. Parties were what's happenin', and adults costumed themselves in various stages of undress. The great Slutty Pumpkin rose. It was Halloween, Charlie Brown, and also. It was Elliott's birthday.

There isn't much excitement for age 22. It isn't a milestone like 18 or 21. You're already old enough to drink and vote and get drafted. It's just another year. Also, if your birthday is on Halloween, people don't really go out of their way to throw you a party, or even remember your birthday is that day. Like all holiday birthdays, the holiday tends to eclipse the day of birth. People can pretend, sure. Try and include you. But it's hardly the same.

Nobody had remembered his birthday. That was fine. He was a loner. It was Halloween, and he didn't need friends to have fun. Or maybe he did. Just, moreso like the Beatles song rather than the one from the movie about the spaceman and the cowboy. Less 'you got a friend in me', more about getting by. Elliott was drinking.

It isn't really worth bragging if you're out at eight on a Tuesday night, drinking alone while the whole world eats too much candy and parties with friends. He did it, though. He got in the birthday spirit, hey! His drink was some sort of chocolate shot, and he had a birthday cake flavored one lined up for next! It was the birthday spirit. Get it? The bartender certainly did, and he didn't approve.

Elliott drank.

Leon wasn't one who usually went out, however the past events of getting lost in the woods and meeting his alternate self was enough to shake him enough where even the mansion seemed a bit confining and confusing for him. He wore the biker Jacket that 'Manti' had left him, which provided enough protection that he was less paranoid about his quills. His tail was still bandaged up though with brand new wrappings after his old ones had disintegrated from exposure to the elements. If it was any other night he would have probably not ventured so far, but it was Halloween, possibly the only night where his appearance could possibly go unnoticed and no one would bother him. Adjusting back to normalcy, or what transpired for normal for him, was difficult. He had spent a long time isolated and alone, after isolating himself in public, then faced what could only be described as the 'good' version of himself. It made him unsure, lost, questioning what he was and what he wanted. He had been miserable alone in the woods, just as he was miserable when around other people, but at the same time he had been free from the constant paranoia about his quills. It conflicted with his own sense of pessimism, then discovering that Manti could actually control his quills, it had him wondering if he could do the same, in spite of his former acceptance of the hopelessness of his life. So he had wondered aimlessly off campus, lost in the turmoil of his conflicting emotions, eventually finding himself in front of some random bar.

Leon hadn't ever gotten into drinking, he had always been afraid of getting drunk and doing something stupid with his quills, however, Manti had divulged the fact that his, and by extension Leon's, toxic immunity prevented him from getting drunk. So why the hell not? Even if he couldn't drink himself into a stupor, maybe if would dull something. He checked his pocket for cash, having a small some of money from saving the allowance the mansion offered, then walked in, looking at the unfamialiar line of bottle for something strong enough to possibly challenge his untested constitution.

In, he walked, like it was frigging Halloween or something. Someone who almost looked more alien than himself. Elliott, in a bout of inexplicable camaraderie and goodwill towards NonMan, instantly took a liking to the random off the street and decided that since it was his birthday, he was going to buy someone else a drink in the hopes that maybe someone might benefit from the day.

Elliott rose from his seat at the bar, swaggered over to the quip-covered mutant, and smiled.

"Hey guy. You look like you're searching your soul for the right answer to some vague but all-defining question about life, the universe... and something else similarly zen. Is the question, by chance, what will get me the most drunk? Because I have some knowledge in this topic. And it being my birthday," and me being a bit tipsy already, "I thought I'd share the joy and buy someone other than me a drink."

It certainly never helped that he was overly friendly when he was drunk. It was the opposite of his usual paranoid, not-outgoing self.

Leon was terrible when it came to social engagements, stunted by years of isolating himself, self-loathing, paranoia, and whatever other guilt he felt. But right now those things were not on his mind, even someone as hopelessly incompetent as him got distracted. "Sure, give me whatever you think will knock me out," he said with a tone of disinterested sarcasm. Honestly this guy wreaked of alcohol, obviously drunk, he may not be as well versed in distinguishing scents as his other self, but anyone could have picked that up. Not that he cared much, if something could knock him into that type of blissful lack of awareness, he would gladly throw himself into the flame. He didn't even question his appearance, between halloween and his time at the mansion, he was desensitized to anything weird looking.

He took a seat by the guy offering him a drink. absently staring at the bar, tapping his claw against the count as he mauled over his internal conundrums. "Hmmm, happy birthday..." he said with a noted lack of enthusiasm. He wasn't a celebratory type. He knew too well that a silver lining thing that was supposed to come with every cloud was a myth, and he more then his fair share of thunderstorms. Being toxic had given him a pessimistic view of reality, as in most cases anything that could have possibly gone wrong with his life had, destroying any delusions he may have had of a normal existence.

Whatever he thought would knock him out? He got the disinterested sarcasm, got it loud and clear. He smiled another zipper-toothed smile. "Okay buddy. I hear you." The man didn't care what he got? He knew nothing about liquor, just wanted something to put him out? Elliott could work with that, and have a little fun, too. "A nice iced tea, it is." He said quietly, and to himself.

Elliott plopped down by the bar again, and asked the bartender for an iced tea. Bartender got it, too. A mixture of Tequila, Vodka, Rum, Gin, and Cola. A classic. Kind of girly-sounding. It had enough good stuff it'd knock the guy out soon enough. It wasn't as fun as his first thought, a punch in the face... but that drink wasn't as good.

If the guy didn't fall over after a couple long island iced teas, they could try the Four Horsemen, a New Orleans Hand Grenade, or maybe a mixture of Gin and Vermouth.

>>"Hrm. Happy Birthday." the guy said. Might have actually been closer to a 'hmmmm' than a 'hrm', but the guy's natural ray of sunshine personality showed through.

"Thank you!" Elliott beamed.

The bartender plopped the tall glass of liquor down in front of Elliott's spiny new friend. Elliott caught his attention and asked for a Jack Daniels. Then, he downed one of his shots. The chocolate shot had been good, but birthday cake? MMMM. Happy birthday to him.

Elliott looked to spiny. "How is it?" He asked.

An iced tea didn't sound all that hard a drink, but as he watched he could see that this wasn't actually ice tea, rather a specialty drink. He honestly didn't know much about different alcohol types, but the number of different liquids that went in had to mean that there had to be some potency to it. After the drink came forward, he could smell the alcohol and various ingredients not that he was all that great at identifying them by smell alone. He had gotten used to smelling for small animals after a week in the woods, hunger would do that, but he was not so good at identifying specifics.

He took the drink in a paw and made the mistake of taking a swig. He hadn't had any strong alcoholic drink before, and was unprepared for the burn that came from it. He was instantly coughing from the sheer irritation it caused going down, leaving a warm after burn. "**cough** strong stuff," he managed to get out, waiting to see if it had any effect as it his his stomach. It did leave a warm sensation, but overall if was more like eating a spicy dish then intoxication. His immune system broke down the alcohol like any other toxin, so the buzz or numbing he was hoping for never came. "Hmmm, got anything stronger," he said, a bit disappointed. True, he had already been warned about being immune to intoxication, but confirming that there was no reaction at all was disappointing all the same.

A swig, he'd taken a swig. Elliott didn't make a habit of drinking girly-sounding cocktails that supposedly tasted like iced tea, but he knew enough to realize that even if it did, and he wasn't entirely sold on the idea, it still had several different kinds of alcohol. You don't swig liquor. You swig beer. Liquor has a higher alcohol content. Alcohol can burn. His new friend learned that the hard way.

The spiny man coughed up a lung and commented on the strength of the drink. Elliott smiled at him. The smile faltered slightly as the guy asked if they had anything stronger.

"Double-fisting tonight, eh?" Elliott asked. "Maybe you really do want to get knocked out. Well then, let me think."

He could definitely aim for something stronger. It seemed to him this guy was in a rough mood, and needed some alcoholic cheer. He'd been happy to buy a drink for him to share the birthday cheer, but apparently birthday cheer in the form of a single drink was not enough. His gift horse had been examined, and had been found wanting. Any further drinks would also be on his dime. Therefore, he had to find something strong, strong enough he wouldn't have to buy three more drinks just to sort it out. As a side note, he didn't want to overlubricate the spiny man, as alcohol poisoning is neither cheerful, nor knocked out. It's kind of dead.

"I don't advise it, but if you want strong there's always everclear. Though it's kind of bland. And if you've got a death wish..." This had lost some of its fun. "Absinthe."

Absinthe had less alcoholic content than everclear, true, but he couldn't imagine a situation where one would drink it in this day and age. That was some Old Man and the Sea bull there.

"Maybe you'd prefer something that actually tastes nice?" Elliott asked hopefully. "Man... I didn't catch your name."

Leon had no idea what everclear or absinthe were, but at least they sounded more like something an alcohol would be named. "I don't think I need to worry about that," he responded to the comment about having a death wish. If he wasn't feeling anything now, and the last drink at least burned enough to confirm the strength of it, it was likely that his body was indeed breaking it all down. "Everclear and absinthe," he said to the bartender, guessing those two were likely the strongest he would find. "Name's Leon," he said, "I don't really care about the taste, I just want something that might get my mind off... things." he didn't go into much more detail, his life was a mess, everything he knew was in conflict, and he had no idea where to go with it. "I'm apparently immune to alcohol poisoning," he offered, wondering if that was what they guy was worried about. May as well ease his mind in case he thought he was suicidal or something. "But who knows, maybe I'll get lucky," he said, with a large amount of sarcasm. He new his luck always tended towards the opposite of what he wanted. He had poisoned everyone close to him, lived on the streets, gotten lost in the woods, and now apparently he was the 'wrong' version of himself, so it wasn't likely he could burn out his mind with a strong drink. "What about you?" he asked, "A birthday on halloween, that's got to be... fun." he couldn't really think of anything to describe it. He never celebrated his birthday, not since he had sprouted spines, so this territory was beyond him, and he wouldn't describe any type of celebration as fun, at least not in relation to himself. He wasn't a fun person to be around.

Didn't need to worry? Hesulposed that either meant his tolerance for alcohol was superhuman, or else he had an interesting mutation... or else, suspected he did. It was him calling the shots (badum tsh), either way. Elliott nodded understanding.

The man, Leon, confirmed the whole alcohol poisoning trifle a minute later. The bartender tended the bar.

Leon wanted to forget. Get his mind off things. Another nod from Elliott. "Who doesn't?" He said. He could drink to that.

If Leon wasn't as immune as he thought he was, maybe he'd do more than forget. Not Elliott's problem. He'd warned him. His responsibility ended there.

Elliott smiled crookedly at the comment on his birthday. "Yeah." He said. "Fun. Would you believe me if I said I was an alien pod baby and my birthday wasn't Halloween, but that was when the pod came down? No? Good." He finished whatever drink he had left, and ordered a tumbler of whisky. "Could very well be someone's trick." He smiled to himself. He tilted back the whisky and drank.

Leon watched the bartender get a bottle of clear liquid and one of a startlingly green one. If he was a betting man, he would have probably said the everclear was the clear one, but he was not about to state the obvious. The absinthe though was a color that almost made him think of some form of chemical cleaner. Had to be strong stuff then. The bartender poured the two together, and Leons sense of smell picked up the herbal and anise scent along with the alcohol. "What is in that?" he asked, slightly curious as to what gave it that color.

He took it in his hand, a bit more wary of the effects the strong alcohal would have going down, and drank more sparingly this time around. Not that it helped all that much, diving into the deep end wasn't going to build up a tolerance for that kind of kick. He coughed again as it burned going down, his eyes watering slightly, as it left its strong flavor that he could only describe as green as it looked.

He listened as Elliott spoke of his origin, though he had no idea if he was actually pulling one over on him or not. "Stranger things have happened." he said, honestly not in the least bit surprised after the week he had had, and if another dimension existed, sure, why not aliens as well.

Elliott didn't wince when Leon drank the evil cocktail of gross hard liquors, but it was close. Super powers or not, the stuff had to be as good as rubbing alcohol. It probably didn't taste very good, all together, he wouldn't know. He'd never tried the liquor equivalent of a soda fountain Suicide. 'Least, not with Absinthe. What was it they said? Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder? ... he was pretty sure that wasn't what they said. Whatever.

The Manticore man certainly didn't look like he was enjoying any of his drink. He hacked up a lung, and started crying. Okay. Maybe not to those extremes, but his eyes did seem moist.

Leon did not immediately laugh off his statement about his origin story. That made Elliott feel the need to talk. He drank a little more whisky, and said "It's complicated. A few months ago, some biology teacher at the mansion put some of my cells under a microscope and flat out told me I'm a mutant and that everything I ever believed about where I come from might be a lie. Who does that?" He looked Leon in the face, then answered his own question. "Friends, I guess. I'm fully aware the whole thing sounds strange. But like you said, we have had stranger things. Like that thing that's letting in all the off-worlders who look just like your regular everyday on-worlders."

Elliott shrugged. "Still. Frog and grasshopper DNA sounds a whole lot more goofy to me than flying saucers. So what if I can--" He paused, then looked at Leon again. He knew he was ranting. And blabbing and talking a lot. Sharing more than he normally might have shared. Also all over the place. So what? "Want to see something cool?" He asked hopefully.