"Beer…" Eleanor replied with a crooked face. Amber-eyes nodded.

This riverside pub looked quite nice, definitely unlike what she had seen in Rapture. Eleanor figured it was better than going shopping or some other girly thing she could never care about. Most men were drinking lager, but others drank stout, porter, or cider.

A few fiddlers and guitarists tuned traditional folk music, the musicians clearly after a few drinks. Irish tunes were upbeat and happy, not so slow and static like the music in Rapture, and real.

Cathal and Eleanor sat at an empty table. She kept quiet but had to be optimistic; there was no way this pub could be as bad as Dionysus Park. She saw a few other girls, all of them were older than her. Some guys checked her out, which she did not like.

"Take it as a compliment," Cathal remarked. "So, what'd ya like ta drink?"

Two tall mugs soon appeared via barmaid, Eleanor with a stout, and Cathal with a lager. She never drank before.

"Cheers!" Cathal nearly shouted, and the two tapped glasses and started chugging.

Eleanor figured ADAM also provided her with some resistance to alcohol, seeing as she did not feel much, or maybe she really was just like Father? While alcoholic foam bubbled against her nose, the dark beer felt quite refreshing, tasting like heavy bread with a strong scent and aftertaste. Eleanor and Cathal drank half of their mugs and put them down on the table.

"Feelin' alright?"

"Mhm."

"Ohhh! Ye'd make a good drinker fer sure!" Cathal remarked, Eleanor chuckling.

For the next hour or so, Eleanor mostly listened to Cathal talking about his future plans. The sun had set and nighttime approached, but Eleanor was not uneasy anymore. With some alcohol in her belly and bloodstream, she felt pleased, easy, and relaxed, finding the folk musicians' tunes fun listening to. At times, she would only pretend to listen to Cathal, nodding every now and then. When she looked down, she realised there were four empty mugs in front of her and Cathal.

"...dere's just no work in Sligo. Everyone's been sailin' ta America 'r Canada. Was tihnkin' a' goin' ta New York. We Irish basically built dat city, I'd bet dere's lots of opportunities dere. God willin' I'll reach de city." Eleanor nodded cluelessly at Cathal's voice, but then she snapped out of her passiveness.

"New York?" Eleanor asked. Did that sound familiar for some reason?

"Ya. Me pa's at times worried 'bout me, kinda ticks me off. I keep tellin' 'im, I'm a' take all me money frum de bank an' set sail fer New York wiht me friends. Barry an' Patrick knows sum Irish-Americans who'd hire us fer labour work, perfect fer a tough sweeney like me."

"Oh? Heh heh, I also considered going ta New York wiht me mom," Eleanor commented, not even noticing the West Irish accent slowly creeping up on her.

"Ah, yeah? Must be a good sign, den. New York it'll be!" Cathal exclaimed, finishing his fifth lager. Once he put the mug down, he noticed Eleanor chugging the last of her fifth stout. "Ye like de dark stuff, eh? Suits yer dark hair," he remarked.

Eleanor put the mug down, staring at Cathal with a sloshed face.

"Oh? Need a sixth round, eh?"

"Actually... I have ta use de little girl's room..." Eleanor said. Her gait was not as solid as she expected, bumping into a barmaid and almost tripping.

Cathal chuckled. "Tall girls 'rr clumsy."

When Eleanor walked back, two young women and two young men had appeared at the table. She did not like this, but Cathal was chatting away gladly with the four young adults. A barmaid had just taken the empty glasses.

"Oohh! Yoorr deh Brritish girrl, eh?" one of the young women exclaimed, a short blondie. She had a thick Scottish accent, her voice rather deep contrary to her short stature, obviously drunk.

"What? I'm not British. I was born in Rapture, not Britain," Eleanor replied in her usual tone, and she took her seat opposite of Cathal, briefly struggling in her chair.

"Oh, Cathal not be lyin' but be serious! He did find a British girl!" one of the young men said, Eleanor giving him a weird look.

"Heh! I was just talkin' 'bout Patrick an' Barry, Esther! Sons o' bitches be here now wiht us!" Cathal remarked, the two young men nodding to Eleanor when their names were spoken. Patrick was taller than Cathal, and Barry shorter than Cathal but stocky, quite the bulldog of a fellow.

"Oohh! Yoorr name's Esther, huh? What a nice name dat is, uh?" the Scottish girl said.

"It's Eleanor..." Eleanor corrected.

"Ya! Shoorr is! Esther be a good name fer ya, yeah..." the Scottish girl said, trailing off into mumbles, drowned out by chugging cider.

"Don't mind Cindy, she's always like dat. Esther, this is me girlfriend, Aideen." Patrick said, the other young woman nodding, but she seemed uninterested in Eleanor. Aideen had brown hair and green eyes, and was quite an attractive, quiet young lady with curves. The name Aideen reminded Eleanor of her middle name, Althea.

"Who's payin' de next round?" Barry asked, and then everyone looked at Eleanor. They paused for a few seconds.

"Not me!" Eleanor replied, slightly tilting her head and making a crooked little smile.

The next round of drinks came, but Eleanor was surprised to find out that the cups were rather small. There were two whiskey bottles on the table, and Eleanor had no idea where they came from.

"Just what we needed, some good Jameson Irish Whiskey!" Cathal stated eagerly.

"Whiskey frrom Corrk be better, doh," Cindy remarked.

"No it ain't," Patrick rebuked.

Everyone raised their glasses, so Eleanor did likewise, smelling the strong scent of whiskey burn her nostrils. The hard liquor filled her mouth and she swallowed, feeling it burn her throat, esophagus and stomach. Her eyebrows furrowed, then her eyes got big, and she shook her head.

"Uh-hwuh-hwuh-hwuh-uh..." Eleanor quivered, closing her eyes and lowering her chin as her face contorted, everyone laughing at her. Eleanor felt that even her stomach, shoulders and spine writhed from the liquor. Coughing and sickness overcame her. Everyone laughed again.

"First-time drinkin' whiskey?" Cathal asked, Eleanor nodded. "Ya, don't ye drink it all at once," he advised, sipping his drink.

Suddenly, someone at the other end of the pub yelled. A few at a table stood up, one of them pushed the table over and spilling cards and drinks, and a fight broke out. Most nearby pubgoers just laughed, even the barmaids, and the musicians continued playing.

"Ooo! Some lil' bitch lost ta cards!" Cathal yelled as the fight was broke apart by a few friends and the pub owner, a big, burly fellow with a full beard.

"Cathal, no, don't be like that..." Eleanor said quietly, pleading with her eyes, but Cathal did not care.

"Shut de foohk up!" one of the rabble-rousers yelled.

"How 'bout ya come here n' make me ya foohkin' lil' cunt!" Cathal yelled back, and the rabble-rouser wriggled forth through those holding him and charged Cathal.

Cathal, Barry, Patrick, and Cindy immediately got up and stepped forth. Cathal threw the first punch, hitting the rabble-rouser in the head, but at the same time, he received a cross to the mouth and staggered. The two boys grappled, pulling each other down while sending uppercuts.

Patrick and Barry jumped in just as the rabble-rouser's buddies ran to the scene, both sides exchanging a flurry of punches. Cindy waltzed in from the side and struck one of the men with a whiskey bottle, dashing out blood.

Eleanor and Aideen sat silently, looked at each other, and they shrugged. They both had another shot of whiskey. When they finished, somehow, the entire pub had become an arena, though the musicians kept on playing. Tables and chairs flipped over, glasses and cards danced in the air, chairs and bottles flew about, people were punched and tossed around, and even the barmaids were throwing punches and pulling on hair.

Aideen and Eleanor made eye contact again, and then Aideen clasped her hands beside her chin, she cocked her head and smiled, "Welcome ta Ireland!" She drank Patrick's unfinished whiskey glass, rolled up her sleeves, and joined the fray.

Eleanor just poured herself more whiskey, filling her glass to the rim. Raising the glass to her lips, taste buds and nostrils tingling, and spilling a little liquor, Eleanor swallowed a mouthful of whiskey. "Wow, I really am like my dad..." The whiskey burned her insides and scrunched up her face. Throwing the glass away and hearing it shatter, Eleanor stood, fired up from whiskey. She kicked her high-heels off and ran toward the brawl.

Cathal still fought the rabble-rouser, both their noses bleeding. Amber-eyes managed to grab the rabble-rouser around the waist then slam him against a table. Holding the rabble-rouser down, Cathal started headbutting his opponent in the face, blood smearing over their foreheads and hair.

Some guy hit Cathal in the head with a bottle, the bottle breaking at the neck. Blood leaking out his scalp, Cathal rolled around and push kicked his attacker on the sternum, staggering him. Cathal got up, getting a rushing feeling as more blood poured out. His next foe tackled into him, Cathal's back scraping against the edge of the table.

Cathal's opponent mounted him and fed him punches, then two more men came and kicked him. Raising his elbows to shield himself, Cathal swung hammer punches sideways repeatedly, but the throbbing pain and gushing blood debilitated him. Knuckles thudded against Cathal's face—Eleanor appeared, and the two men kicking Cathal fell one after the other. The man who mounted Cathal looked up and Eleanor clocked him across the temple, knocking him out. Eleanor did, after all, have broad, heavy-looking knuckles.

"C'mon, get up, Cathal!" Eleanor yelled, grabbing Cathal's hand and pulling him up to his feet, the Big Sister surprising Cathal by how strong she was. The two were now face-to-face, and they paused. Eleanor calmed down, just staring into Amber-eyes' amber eyes, his bloody face still cute. "You smell like roses." Eleanor remarked.

"You smell like whiskey," Cathal commented. The brawling mass tornadoed into them.

Eleanor spun around, smacking aside a chair thrown at her. She darted forth with the reflexes and quickness of a ferret, headbutting a guy in the head and he fell over. "I think you're trying not to cry!"

Cathal got a few more punches to the face, but he returned a few of his own, knocking his foe down. He would have been swarmed by multiples, but Patrick and Barry charged and knocked his attackers down. A sneaky punch to the back of the head took Cathal down, but he got up, seeing Cindy screaming and thrashing at the pub owner.

Cathal regained himself, wiping the blood from his eyes. He looked at Eleanor, and paused with a crooked face. Eleanor was throwing hook punches wildly, knocking down adult men in single blows. Eleanor's face withstood punches, yet she barely flinched.

"Boring. Come back with some stronger friends," Eleanor commented after beating down several men. The Big Sister grabbed some guy and threw him against the wall. She grabbed a whiskey bottle that happened to be nearby and rammed it into the man's mouth, forcing him to drink. "Drown like Rapture!"

Someone hit Eleanor in the head with their own bottle, breaking at the neck, but Eleanor remained unflinching. She left the bottle in the man's mouth, and then kicked her bottle-wielding attacker in the chest and he was down. Eleanor did not know why, but she kicked the bottle she left in the man's mouth, shattering it. She chuckled.

Re-entering the brawl, Eleanor punched a man's shoulder, he writhed from pain. Eleanor elbow struck him across his head and he fell, skull leaking blood.

"Ugh, you little bastard... I'm so disappointed..." Eleanor commented. "But who's next!"

Aideen was having trouble with a barmaid. Aideen was grabbed by the hair and fed punches, so Eleanor approached, grabbing the barmaid by the head and throwing her against the floor.

"Ugh! Thanks!" Aideen said; Eleanor nodded and went back to the fighting.

Despite their drunkenness, the brawlers quickly realised something was strangely amiss with the tall, baby-faced girl…in socks. Most men did not want to fight Eleanor, but when she hurt them, they had to defend themselves. She did receive some damage, bleeding at both eyebrows, cheeks swollen, and nose red, but clearly wasn't going down.

"Yes, yes! Make it last!" Eleanor exclaimed as she fought. While she laughed, a big guy punched her across the jaw; her jawbone shifted with an audible crack. Eleanor tilted from pain but remained on her feet, from a punch that would clearly have knocked out a big man and a few teeth. She punched the big guy across the chin and he hit the floor. "Aww...you were doing so well."

"Keep it up, Esther! Yer doin' great!" Cathal called from within the brawl somewhere, Eleanor laughing as the fight avalanched everywhere...

The fiddlers and guitarist finished their music passionately, expecting applause. They paused, then looked at the audience… Basically everyone was lying unconscious on broken tables and chairs.

Only Eleanor, Cathal, Cindy, Patrick, Barry and Aideen were sitting, at their table, Eleanor beside Cathal. The pub owner was casually wiping blood and booze off his counter, occasionally drinking whiskey.

"Irish whiskey...de best tihn' dat ever came from planet Earth," the pub owner said to himself.

"Eh, Esther, ye deserve dis... Well done, ye sure got some pretty damn good knuckle-power," Cathal said, sliding a beer mug full of whiskey to Eleanor. Cathal and his friends were all bruised and bloodied. Eleanor, Aideen and Cindy had slightly ripped shirts and jackets, but they did not seem to care. Eleanor's knuckles were shredded, bloodied, and swollen.

"Uhh, yeah, like... Uh-hunh..." Eleanor mumbled, drunk out of her skull. Blood dripping out her eyebrows and nose, she grabbed the mug and raised it, some of her blood leaking into it, but she drank anyways.

Her friends watched in horror as Eleanor chugged the entire mug of whiskey, then slammed the mug down on the table, glass shattering. Eleanor teetered, head tilting, mouth open, her breath felt like acid.

"Yer not gonna puke?" Aideen squeaked, amazed, Eleanor slowly looking at her.

"I think... I'm going...to die..." Eleanor mumbled, wondering if her belly—now a cauldron of whiskey—would just melt her guts.

"See? I said she be a good drinker!" Cathal exclaimed.

Eleanor slowly looked at him. "I love you."

"I love ye, too," Cathal replied, then sipped some whiskey.

When Eleanor looked around, she noticed the musicians had seated themselves at the counter and got drinks from the pub owner.

"Hey, Esther, so what's up wiht ya? Cathal was talkin' bout ye in trouble wiht de law, 'n dat ye come frum some creepy place?" Barry asked.

"Hmm? Ohhh, it's a long, lllong story. I don't really want ta talk 'bout it. I wanna leave it all behind. Ye wouldn't believe any o' it," Eleanor replied, transforming into an Irishwoman.

"C'mon, Esther! Talk to us! Yer almost as quiet as Aileen!" Patrick encouraged, Aideen chuckling.

"Well... I guess ah doo have some stories ta say. It's been just a few days 'r so, but it feels like forever since I escaped Rapture..."

Eleanor told her story, already knowing none of it would be believed. Just like in the hospital, she paraphrased everything.

As she told the story, Eleanor's mind faded out here and there, and she did not really know what was going on, or who spoke, or at times what she was even saying. But, drunks listening to a drunk usually did not complain, and whatever communication formed, was good enough.

"Raised studying philosophy an' psychology?"

"Yeah, it was total hell."

…

"An' ye could sneak out like dat n' all?"

"Uh-hunh."

…

"Whoa, ya shoorr sound like a rreal smarrt little lady! Education and electronics! I can't even change a lightbulb."

…

"Dog-eaters? Wah-hah-hah! Imagine a little girl sayin' other kids be dog-eaters! Ohh-hoh-hoh-ha ha ha!"

…

"Ha! Yer like yer ma, in trouble wiht de law."

"Good point, I am like me ma, in trubble wiht de law an' all, heh heh..."

…

"Dat's quite a lot a' names n' places ye've been ta, I'm surprised ye 'member all dat bullshit frum yer childhood."

"I gots a good memory, ah?"

…

"Ugh! I can't believe you got sold off to an orphanage..."

"It wasn't fun."

…

"Yer ma escaped frum jail?"

"She was very smart, that's when..." Eleanor paused, not wanting to tell her friends this next part. The memories hurt her.

Cathal, Cindy, Barry and Patrick paused when Eleanor told them how Father killed himself in front of little Eleanor. She lowered her head.

"Wait, how did yer mom get yer dad ta shoot himself?"

"Plasmids."

"Hunh? How do dey work?"

"Well, dey add new genetic information, and...allows ya ta do stuff? And stuff… Yehh…"

"I can't believe ye watched yer dad shoot himself on New Years' Eve..."

"What a way ta celebrate de end of de year."

"It haunted me."

"I'd bet."

"Hunh, so dat's how she got inta power, den?"

"Yes, Mother came ta power like dat... Now, I'ah tell ya all me adventures in findin' out 'bout pa 'n ma and wha' I 'ad ta do..."

The adventures with Father, and their escape from Rapture, was bittersweet for Eleanor. At times she wanted to cry but held back the tears.

"She was smart, me Mother…she knew Father was coming for me. Wanted ta accelerate da conditioning she 'ad in store fah me, but of course, thah bitch failed."

"Crrazy stuff, Eleanor! Real crrazy! Did dey really kidnap kids all 'round de world?"

"Yeah... She's a psychopath."

"Yer mom sounds like a total bitch! No offence."

"None taken, that's why I tried to drown her."

"I would 'ave drowned dat cunt."

"My hands were shaking, I couldn't do it. I loved Mother, I really did. I couldn't kill her." Delving into the past ended her Irish accent. "But, and...and Father showed me how to forgive, but, but he...he chose to die, so that I could be free. I felt so hurt by what he decided, but... that's what he chose. I don't know why."

Eleanor felt tears coming. She wept. She sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "I really didn't want any of you to see me cry," Eleanor admitted, breathing slowly and deeply, shoulders going up and down, but that just encouraged more crying. Her head dropped.

"Aww...so killer-girlie does have a soft spot," Cathal remarked.

"She sure does," Barry agreed.

"I think I'm gonna cry, too..." Patrick whimpered.

"Aww, dat's so sad...de second time ye met yer pa, after all dat, and ye had ta watch him die again," Aideen said.

"And here I am. Just as I said to Father, I... I will be alone," Eleanor said. "I just know it..."

"Yer not alone, Esther! We're here for ya. We're yer friends," Cathal comforted, putting a hand on Eleanor and rubbing her back.

Eleanor felt much better. "Don't stop."

"There ya go."

Eleanor stayed quiet for a while, letting her friends mumble about things. "My story about Rapture...do you believe me?" she asked, head slowly swaying. Eleanor was not sure how long she would remain awake.

"Sure we do!" Cathal almost bellowed, but Eleanor figured everyone being drunk was the reason they believed her. Though, they all seemed ready to go to sleep.

Eleanor yawned and stretched, then paused with a frown. She lunged sideways over the chair.

"Ooowahhh!" What was worse than drinking hard liquor the first time? Releasing a bellyful of burning, alcoholic puke. Eleanor's buddies laughed at her.

Once Eleanor finished barfing, she spat into the puddle of puke. For some reason, amidst the sour disgust and alcohol, Eleanor also smelt a tinge of roses. While her friends kept laughing, she felt another round rising…

Another round of puking. Another round of laughter.

"Sorry... What time is it?" Eleanor asked while wiping her mouth, but her friends shrugged.

"Does it really matter? I tihnk we all need ta go ta bed..." Barry said, rubbing his temples.

"Yeah, good idea..." Cindy mumbled, letting her head drop and thud against the table.

Cathal noticed Eleanor staring at him with puppy dog eyes. "What?"

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Ya, yer pretty crazy."

"Awesome!" Eleanor made a big smile, then she turned her head, as did Cathal, Barry, Patrick and Aideen, and they noticed a dozen police officers walk into the pub.

"What de foohk happened 'ere?" one of the policemen asked aloud, totally surprised.

"I tihnk I have an idea," Constable McDonagh said sternly, looking straight at Eleanor.

She raised her arm, grinning with her eyes closed. "Me, me! I started it! I did it!"

The cops just stared.

"Ye'd be surprised, but dat girlie packs quite de punch. Saw her knock out twenty guys 'r so. She and her friends made de best barfight I've ever seen," the pub owner commented.

All of a sudden, Eleanor's friends were being arrested, too drunk to resist, the boys getting a laugh out of it.

"Aw, come onn, I didn't even doo anytihn..." Cindy whined.

"Come along, miss, don't make dis any harder fer ya," Constable McDonagh instructed Eleanor, handcuffs dangling from his hand, but she just smiled at him.

"Ye know what? I got a better idea..." Eleanor stood while grabbing a whiskey bottle. She lifted the bottle and started chugging.

The cops stared at her blankly, and Eleanor turned her head a little and smiled while whiskey poured down her face and chest. Once the bottle emptied, Eleanor threw it down, smashing it against the floor. The aroma of whiskey fumed out Eleanor's mouth, nose and eyes, entire body on fire.

"Whoaa! WWHHOOAA!" Swaying, Eleanor looked at Constable McDonagh. "PFFFFTH!" Whiskey spewed out Eleanor's lips and dashed onto McDonagh's face.

He didn't look happy.