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They took their first few swigs in tandem and in silence.  Zell's thoughts strayed to his mum and dad, but landed and stayed on his older sister.

Zell had grown up in a good middle-class household in West London, just outside the mega-rich Chelsea area.  His father and mother had both come from working class backgrounds, so their values and culture was very-much the stereotypical, commoner cockney folk, his father remaining especially engrained in that hard-working, 'cheeky cockney lad' attitude, which is where Zell got his particular brand of charisma from.  Zell however, being bad at studies and school from an early age (mixed with his family's lack of 'Fuck You Money') meant that he would go to (that is; his parents forced him to go to) a bad college after high school.  However, the kid had been blessed with a promising talent for football and a streak of entrepreneurship that meant he always had some method of making a few quid - from buying large packs of sweets and selling them in singles in 7th grade, to dealing in similar wholesale/retail schemes with cigarettes and vape pens in later years.

He'd always been good with girls, partly due to his own attributes, (being tall, athletic and relatively handsome had it's own benefits) but most definitely because of his sister, Phoebe.  Phoebe was a few years older than Zell and practically beat her little brother over the head with the biblical laws of fashion, hygiene, what's popular, dating - all from the POV of a teenage girl.  She was a know-it-all.  Ever the type who 'was pretty and she knew it.'  And that was their relationship - her being on his ass whenever she had the chance, and preaching her values and ideals.  From 5yrs old all the way to his 20's.  He hated her at times, but when his adolesence started to kick in, they became quite close.

And so, of all his family, he missed her the most.

Whenever his deepest feelings managed to avoid suppression and reach the forefront of his mind, he always found himself wondering what she was doing.  Last time he'd spoken with her, she was two months pregnant and looking at houses with her fiance.

[i][b]~~~~"Location, location."  Phoebe's current catchphrase.  "I'd rather get somthing small with a good postcode.  I'm not raising children in a shoddy neighbourhood."~~~~[/b][/i]

She was sooo high maintenance and materialistic.  Thank god she'd found a rich enough guy to handle that.  She was a good person though.  When recent family medical problems had arisen, she was front and center, being there for all involved, without even needing asking.

Zell smiled.

In a way, he'd proven in Mytheria that he was kinda similar - Egotistical and vexing in good times, but dependable and strong when shit hit the fan.  [i]When the going gets tough, the tough get going,[/i] Zell thought as he downed the last of his pint.

"Mate," he called the barman.  "Two more o' those, if you don't mind."  He looked at Fenna and grinned.  "One good beer deserves another." As Barracker came and went, Zell reached a hand behind himself to pat Barracker back in comraderie.  "Cheers, Kass.  G'night mate."

[b]...[u]during the 2nd beer[/u]...[/b]

He'd spared Fenna his rambling up until this point, content to simply be here with his friend in companionable silence as she had a much-needed beer. But now, his chatbox started working.

"I don't know about you, Fenna, but I feel like The Witch Queen told us the truth," he said.  "Pretty much every word.  Just a gut feeling."  He glanced at her then back at the bottles behind the bar.  "There ain't no way we can go to her side though.  Everytime we bloody blink, we get dragged further into this war.  I just can't imagine we'll just [i]stroll[/i] east to Azeroth and she'll be like 'Right, off you go, chaps,' with a rolled out red carpet and dimensional portal at the end."  He shook his head.  "Nah.  She'll want something in return.  And let's face it, it will involve being in this war."

He lifted his drink to his lips but paused turned to her with raised eyebrows.  "But... there is a way to get back.  I can feel it."  He took a sip and continued.  "We are gonna get used and abused by these Mytherians before they let onto us; the way home.  But mark my words, if we keep our eyes and ears open, we might just figure out 'the magic door' [i]without[/i] the Emperor or 'Rightful Empress.'  And if we do, then I wouldn't begrudge any of us taking the opportunity ot get the fuck outta here."

He looked around a little, eyeing the wooden beams in the ceiling, the barman, the adventurer down the bar who was getting a round in for his party...

"We're on the right side," he added to the conversation.  "If we're stuck here, in this world - in this war - then we're stuck on the right side of it, at least. We can be sure of that."

[b]...[u]during the 3rd beer[/u]...[/b]

"What's the Netherlands like, eh?" Zell asked, a slight smile and encouraging nudge to Ranger.  "What's the average day in the life of Fenna Postma?"

Whatever she would reveal he would listen intently and enjoy it, maybe even asking a follow-up question or two about her family's personalities and such.  Fenna was always so strong and silent, (which was actually fucking badass, in Zell's opinion) but it couldn't be easy always being that way.  So Zell would give her the opportunity to let off some steam, talk about something positive and passionate, and maybe gain some strength from it.

However, he wouldn't pry too hard.  He was sharp enough to know if he needed to take his foot off the gas.