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James was thick-skinned enough to not make the walk back to The Mended Drum awkward.  Both he and Zell even cracked a little banter along the way.  But in the back of Zell's mind, something resembling a conscience - weak as it was - was niggling at him.  It had all started, at The Thieves Guild, when the beer got flowing and Zell decided that he wanted [i]all[/i] the boisterious and dodgy energy in the room.  Typical Zell fucking Brooks.  And this time, it was at the express expense of his best friend.  No 'Out' for the polarizing rogue, this time.  No, [i]"Oh shit, I wasn't thinking,"[/i] or no, [i]"Silly me, I forgot about that."[/i]

Nope.

He'd [i]just[/i] been told by James, some ninety minutes beforehand, that the cleric was dealing with a complete absorption of the memories, emotions and personality of their enemy, Zigmund Mugba-Zarak.  And he decided to celebrate in front of a bunch of strangers, the death of said enemy.  And he'd realised too, what he was doing, less than two minutes into his performance, when trying to drag James into it - he realised that he was putting his best friend in the most awkward emotional position in the world.  But Zell had let the atmosphere and attention drown out respect and consideration for his comrade - the man who had just pledged to help him deal with Baphomet, and to keep his secret.  To have his back, the way a friend should - and Zell being Zell, carried on, full steam ahead.

First MacKensie.  Shit, at least regarding [i]her[/i] gripes with him, he could say that it didn't even occur to him, in the moment, the ramifications, or that anything bad would come of it.  Now it was James feeling the burn of Zell simply not giving two fucks about anyone but himself.

Niggling niggling, but hell, the Englishman wouldn't let it show.  The buzzed bants continued until they were back in the inn they called home.

"One more?" Zell asked, before he and James parted ways.  "Alright, bruv, catch ye later."  He nodded to Frederick as he took a stool, pausing before his bum hit the seat to get back up and declare, "We're gearing up to win a battle and show the Witch Queen what's what!  Lift your heads and throw your fears in the gutter.  Round for the house on me!  Give us a war song, lads."

There was barely a reaction, but the musicians did play something different.  Zell didn't know if it was a war song or not.  He didn't care.  None of his bravado gave him any company... he was left alone with that crippled little thing people called a conscience.  Well, there was at least one person he could bring in for company and that was the man who was collecting a gold piece off of him.  He sipped half of his beer before he said anything.

"I'm a piece of shit, Fred," he started.  Fred was taken a little by surprise, but took it in stride and started buffing down the bar near Zell with the towel that'd been over his shoulder.

"You seem an alright lad to me, Zell."

"You know what I did in my last life?  Under the guise of a student, I filled the academy campus with contraband."  Fred raised his eyebrows.  "Anyone who tried to do even a fraction of the same thing, I set my dogs on them.  Anyone who failed to pay me got similar treatment.  Very persuasive.  And of course, I was insulated.  Hands clean.  Popular all around the campus.  Captain of the football team. I used everyone close to me - people I called friends."  Zell took another swig.  Fred was unreadable.  "I died in a traffic accident before I landed in this world.  You could call it a coincidence, but I'm starting to think that fate was just excising a cancerous fuck out of the universe."

Everyone in Second Chance he considered a friend.  But James and MacKensie were closer than that.  And here he was in a second life, with a 'second chance' doing the same old selfish shit that Zell Brooks was known for.

"Just today, I considered trying to set up a contraband distribution network in this world."  He caught Fred's cautionary look and waved it off.  "Don't worry, I'm not gonna.  But it's like... just the thought, ye know... shows that I've not changed at all.  I'm supposed to have a fresh slate.  New life.  Source Crystal.  A Hero."  [Colour=Pink][i]It is not cringey... ...It noble and dignified.[/i][/colour] Zell shrugged.  "How can I be a hero if I'm about as far from noble and dignified as the fucking cretins outside the city walls, right now."

While Fred served customers, Zell moped in his own world.  Fred did come back to him though.  "Listen lad, you're not so far gone that you can be compared to the evil out there.  And if you can recognise what's wrong, then you've taken the first step.  You can save yourself.  I've heard worser crimes from men sat in that stool there than you've spoken tonight.  And I keep it to myself because it's none of my business.  But trust me, you're a big, strong lad, with a big strong backbone... use it.  Instead of crying like a little girl."  Zell nodded as he looked at the barman who nodded back and held his gaze.  "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Zell agreed.

"Your friends... you care about em?"  Zell nodded.  "Well, that's not enough.  I hate to say it, but you have to want to change... for you."

Zell thought about it.  Did he want to change?  He wanted his friendships.  He wanted to help protect this world that he now had to live in.  But did that mean he wanted to change for his own sake?

...

[i]Zell found himself, quite expectedly, stood in a familiar void of impenetrable and unending darkness.

"Ugh... I'm not in the mood for this," he groaned, letting himself fall backward onto his back.  But he did not hit any kind of floor.  In fact, the entire void seemed to rotate around him so, while he did fall backwards, he ended up still standing.  Just now with an additional wave of motion sickness.

"Seems as though you need me now, more than ever."  That voice was like metal scraping along metal inside his head whilst simultaneously echoing throughout the void.

"How so?" Zell asked, about as unenthusiastically as humanly possible.

"You took his sword.  You took his pride.  You took his life."  Zell knew where this was going and he didn't like it.  "And now he is closer to you than ever before.  What would you do, if you were in Zigmund's position?"

Zell tiredly rubbed his eyes.  This was a proposition he did not even want to consider.

Baphomet chuckled.  "Oh, what interesting tales you mortals weave."  His chuckling turned to outright laughter.  "He [b]will[/b] try to take his revenge.  One day from now or one year.  And you will not be ready, without me."[/i]