#honestly wanna sell stocks of my soul for some inspiration

[terasaurtheveryflowydragon]

[galfridus1]

Melban Weekend Day 1: BROTP

I’m super excited to publish this for @meliodas-and-ban’s Melban Weekend. Thank you so much @jacklynnfrost for writing this with me. You are amazing to collaborate with. Partly inspired by my drinking pal and a song with the same title by Gene.

Fill Her Up

A collaboration between Galfridus and Jacklynnfrost

As soon as the door opens the muffled music expands forth to pound the bass line in his chest, and he feels the sounds reverberate inside his ribcage. He frowns softly, stepping in and looking around the place. Booths line the left wall, a bar is to the right with half the stools empty and a female bartender reaching for a top-shelf bottle of amber liquid. It smells like stale barley and a little like cigarette smoke, but mostly disappointment.

He recognizes none of the faces, looking over the group by the window and giving a second glance to the full table beside the restrooms. With a sigh, he walks to the bar while pulling out his phone to double-check that this is the right establishment. It is, but while double-checking a text comes in from one of the colleagues of the many included in this plan, ‘Bar meetup is canceled, we’ll try again next week.’

Since he’s already here and thirsty for something warm and bitter, he finds a seat at the far end away from the couple cozied up together. The shiny table-top is sticky and he frowns before moving over a seat, eyeing the community bowl of nuts before him. It isn’t as if he is particularly interested in getting to know any of the people he works with, but he made the effort today where no one else seemed to take the plans seriously.

“Yo!” a deep voice calls out, one he recognizes and he turns to see that one of his colleagues has also shown up. The man looks almost too young to be in a place that serves alcohol, his green eyes sparking with an almost indecent enthusiasm and his small face alight with a wide, beaming grin. “Hey Ban, sorry I’m late. Where’re the others?”

“Meet up’s canceled~” Ban drawled as he drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

“Aww, really?” Meliodas flops into the seat opposite him, shaking out his messy head of blonde hair. “That’s a shame. I could really do with a drink.”

Ban grins, a sharp canine poking out from the side of his mouth. “We’re here aren’t we?” he says leaning forward. “I’ve got nothing else going on this evening.”

“You’re on!” Meliodas sits up a little straighter. “What’s your poison?”

Now, this is more like it. Ban grins. “Aberdeen Ale,” he says with a bit of a leer.

Meliodas cocks his head to one side. “Hey! Me too! Okay, coming right up!” Meliodas hops down from the chair and Ban quirks an eyebrow to see just how small the man is. He can’t be more than five feet at most. As Ban checked his phone, listlessly scrolling through Facebook, he found himself wondering more about the man who was busy buying him a drink. Meliodas has a reputation for being an extremely effective operative, someone who can sell rocks to a troll. Ban is not bad at it himself, well he hits all his targets each month, though his rivals would say that’s because he scares all the clients.

“Here you go!” Meliodas is suddenly back at the table, plonking two frothing pints of dark brown liquid down before him. Ban cackles, wrapping his fingers round the cool glass. “Cheers!” the other declares as he retakes his seat, and both men take deep, grateful drafts of the ale.

“So, how did you get into sales?” asks Meliodas. He swipes his sleeve across his face to make sure he does not have any foam on his mouth while speaking.

“The usual way,” Ban replies, “I needed a job so I found one.” He grins, raising his glass as his companion snickers, “I’ll drink to that.”

Their mugs rest on the bar top, silence between them but the noises of the bar are loud. Meliodas taps his fingers on the wood, barely hearing the sounds he’s making while Ban vaguely turns to the television currently showing a commercial. “Is it what you want to do?” he finally asks, not out of real interest but more for something to say.

“Nah, of course not,” Ban says with a laugh, taking another long drink and Meliodas stares. The man certainly is putting it away. Not to be outdone, he too takes a draft, clearing just a little more of the ale than his companion has done. “This is just a temp thing, you know.”

“Same.” Meliodas’s gaze flicks to the table and back again. “So um… what’s the plan, long term I mean?” Ban says nothing so he presses on, “I want to open my own bar, actually. Do a better job than this,” he adds with a smirk as his eyes rove around the room taking in the faded decor, the peeling paint and the obvious shine of something sticky on the bar itself. “Have you seen the toilets?”

“Not had that pleasure,” says Ban with a grimace, “and it’s my round. Same again?”

Meliodas gives a cheerful nod then drains his glass ostentatiously as Ban does the same. With a grin, Ban gets up from the table, his long legs elongating before him like a spider’s. Eyebrows raised, Meliodas watches as Ban makes his way to the bar, the slight smile on his countenance broadening to a huge grin as his colleague returns with not two pints, but four.

“It’s happy hour,” Ban explains. “Drink up, we should get another round in before these go back to full price.” Meliodas gladly obeys, sinking half a pint in one go. “Not bad,” Ban observes as he sets down his own glass, now more empty than full.

“Not bad yourself!” Meliodas drains his pint then raises the next. “Bet I can finish this before you.”

“You are so on!”

Together Ban and Meliodas raise their glasses, clicking the vessels together. “Three...” Meliodas begins.

“Two…” Ban follows.

“One...” teases Meliodas as he pulls the pint close to his face, the tang of ale on the air making his mouth water.

“Go!” The two immediately place their drinks to their lips, chugging down the alcohol as quickly as they can. They are both fast - very fast - and Meliodas makes himself hold his breath as he downs the drink more quickly than even he is used to, feeling a little lightheaded as he swallows the last of the ale. When he bangs the glass down on the table, he is gratified to see that he is a second before Ban, whose face is now a little pink round the cheekbones.

Meliodas stands, swaying slightly as the room reorientates itself. “S’my round,” he declares, grinning to Ban over his shoulder as he makes his way to the bar. Feeling the thrill of a challenge, he decides to buy six of the ales, the bartender giving him a sideways look and a tray.

“There!” Meliodas sets the tray on the table, joining in Ban’s chuckle as his colleague rubs his hands together. “Alright!” Ban declares as he takes one of the glasses.

“You know, that’s my plan too,” Ban slurs.

Meliodas’s brows furrow. “What is?”

Ban barks out a laugh. “You wanna set up a bar. Me too. That’s what I’m saving up for.”

“You do?” Meliodas’s jaw hangs a little slack, and he closes it quickly, covering his confusion with a draft from his own pint.

“Yeah. I figure there’s not a lot better than being surrounded by alcohol all day. Plus I can cook. I’m damn good. I want to have this traditional pub, cobbled stone floor, oak tables with stools, the lot. You know, like a tavern they’d have in the old days.” Ban’s face is dreamy, his eyes set into the middle distance as he leans forward to rest his arms on the table. “I’m gonna get someone to do front of house while I cook pies and roasts. It’ll be heaven.”

Meliodas is breathing heavily, and he swallows hard. “What’s eating you?” Ban asks with a cackle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Mind made up, Meliodas reaches for his bag, pulling out a worn, leather-bound sketchbook. “I… you mean something like this?” he asks tentatively as he opens the book. He watches Ban carefully, heart pounding in his chest as the other looks down at the page, his expression morphing from curious to amazed. He looks down himself at the scene he has so carefully drawn: cobbled stone floor, neat little stools set by round tables, patterned diamond windows, and a well-stocked bar. This is his dream, and he looks into Ban’s wide-eyed stare, excitement flowing through his veins.

“I call it, The Boar Hat,” he says diffidently.

“Oh. My. God.” Ban glances at him, then picks up the book, gazing with intent at Meliodas’s sketch. “This is perfect. It’s exactly what I imagined. How did you… what… how?”

Meliodas gives an awkward laugh. “I’ve wanted to set up my own bar as long as I can remember. It was, um, a distraction from… stuff.” He picks up another pint, knocking it back to cover his embarrassment, rolling the liquid around in his mouth.

With the book in one hand, Ban reaches for his glass as well while staring at the page and takes long drags from the beer. The pages fan out without his hand there to hold it in place and sketch after sketch flashes, too fast to make out more than a few. “You must have needed a lot of distractions,” Ban notes, trying not to pry as he rights his new friend's book and slides it across the clean side of the table.

Meliodas shrugs, having just finished a deep swallow of his beer to dive back into it before fully breathing, finishing off the glass. “Same, honestly,” Ban notes, looking down into the amber liquid as if it had the answers, if not those he knows it has some relief. To keep up, and with memories trickling in, Ban finishes off his glass as well.

They both reach for another, in tandem and when their gazes meet their expressions are mirrored as well. The two are physically different but it's like one wounded soul recognizes the other, seeing that deep dark pinch of something that had been left to burn inside. Seeing it sparks a true connection. “Huh,” they both exhale and then snicker as they lean away with their cups and take another healthy swig.

“You too, huh?” Meliodas asks, shaking his head in a mix between exasperation that the world is so fucked and companionable wry acceptance. Ban shrugs, taking a second deep inhale of his drink following his first. He gives a start, his glass slowly lowering from his lips as he realizes that had been Meliodas’s non-answer moments ago. A heavy laugh bursts forth, a bit too loud until Ban slaps his hand over the table. “We’re the same!” he declares, edging into inebriation.

Meliodas laughs with him, downing his glass before smirking with foam on his lip, uncaring about his appearance at this point. “Fifty bucks says I had it worse.” He’s joking but Ban’s shoulders square up to their table, “Buck-fifty, and you’re on.” He accepts, both look to their next glass on the table, their last one, and say together, “We’re gonna need another round for this.”

To keep with the pattern, eight glasses are ordered and he’s all snickering grins as he wobbles the tray to their table not spilling a drop of the golden comfort. “You go first,” Meliodas demands.

“Nah, mine’s way more disturbing. I don’t wanna ruin yours.” Ban leans back in his seat, his crimson eyes a challenge as he takes yet another long drink of the ale.

“Confident huh?” Meliodas downs his pint. “Okay, but you’ll regret it.” He picks up another of the glistening glasses, condensation beading around the outside. “Life was alright when I was young. My old man has always been… well, he’s always been him but my mum did her best to shield me from it. He was never violent, you see, just… horrible.”

He gulps, wincing a little as Ban stares at him intently, a bit of heat burning the back of his neck. “I didn’t really know how bad it was at the time but I’ve pieced things together since, you know? He wouldn’t let her go out on her own, except to buy groceries, and if she spent too much or didn’t get the right things he’d yell at her for hours. And I mean really yell, at the top of his lungs. He’d call her all sorts of names.” Meliodas pauses, taking another draft of ale as his throat starts to burn. “He chose what she wore, wouldn’t let her have friends, wouldn’t let her talk to her family… I didn’t know that was weird until much later.”

Ban is leaning forwards now, his eyes slightly misty. “Go on,” he murmurs softly as Meliodas sucks in a deep breath.

He nods, then continues, “She… died when I was ten, giving birth to my brother. I didn’t even get to see her…” He takes another breath, willing himself to keep it together. “So there I was with my father and this baby and I had no idea what to do. I had to learn pretty quick,” he says with a laugh. “And Zeldris was tough work. He’s great and all but…” Without thinking, Meliodas tugs at a lock of his hair. “Anyway, with my mum gone, my father turned his attention to me. My grades weren’t perfect, Zeldris made too much noise, the house wasn’t clean enough.” He breaks off at this, contemplating his glass before drawing the remaining liquid into his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Ban says, all trace of slurring gone from his tone. “That sounds shit.”

“I really did think it was my fault,” Meliodas says with a laugh. “It wasn’t till I met Elizabeth, then I realised that it’s... not normal. She took me to see her family and, well, they are. Normal, I mean. They’re nice to each other. I… I wasn’t nice to Zeldris,” Meliodas says with a rush. “I was pretty nasty to him actually. He won’t talk to me anymore…” He zones out, looking over Ban’s shoulders seeing nothing as he mutters, “I left him there, he was a kid and I, I knew.”

Ban sets down his pint with a thunk. “You should make it up him,” he admonishes, his voice cold as frost. “Brothers and sisters are… you look after them.”

“Yeah.” Meliodas takes another drink. “I know. I’ve tried to apologise,” he pleads as he looks into Ban’s face to see a stern line to his companion’s jaw. “I really have. He doesn’t forgive easily.”

“Then keep trying.” Ban glares, then his eyes soften, his own emotions spiking. “Aw, I know you are. And don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll come round. Who’s Elizabeth?” he asks, a smile creeping back onto his face to help his friend focus on the good part of his life he just shared.

Meliodas grins in return. “My girlfriend. We’ve been going out for a few years now. If I get a bonus this month, I’m gonna buy a ring.”

Ban slaps the table harder than the first time, his laugh so loud it reverberates over the thumping bass of the music and other patrons turn to gaze at the pair. Behind the bar, the staff glance at each other with worried looks. Then the hubbub of conversation resumes and the staff relaxes, returning to the serving of drinks and wiping down surfaces in a desultory way. “That’s why you’ve been working like crazy! It all makes sense now! Rings are damn expensive,” Ban says rather glumly.

“Sounds like you’re talking from experience.” Meliodas peers at Ban, whose face has turned slightly red. “You are talking from experience,” he declares. “Go on! Tell me more.”

“Her name’s Elaine, and that’s all you’re getting tonight.” Ban grins then drinks. “I’m gonna ask her this weekend.” Meliodas does the same at the news, tilting his mug in Ban’s direction in a mini salute to his new friend's future happiness. Their glasses hit the table and Meliodas arches a brow. “All I’m gettin’, huh? I spill my metaphorical guts and you only give me your girl’s name. I think this is the easiest one-fifty I’ve ever made.” After a breath and a smirk, he continues, “Maybe Elizabeth will get her ring first with all this easy money coming in.”

Ban snorts, takes a drink of his beer, finishing it with long gulps before pushing it to the side with the other waiting empty mugs. They clang together and with a flushed face he announces, “If this were our bar, these would be taken care of already.” Ban sighs when his declaration goes unacknowledged before turning to Meliodas with a small wince. “My old man was the opposite, never said much but communicated through violence. Ma wasn’t much better, sending me out to steal for them. Her requests were always impossible and when I’d return with less than asked for, I’d get punished. But all that shit, that’s fine.” Ban laughs humorlessly, fingers stretching across the sticky table for another of their waiting beers.

“See, I learned my lesson too late too, the one about protecting your younger siblings.” Ban grinds his teeth, hissing in a breath between them. “I hate that my life got better after. That I benefited from her death. I was put in a nice home, got a father figure worth his salt, food every night and even a brother my age… all at the cost of my sister’s life.” He can take no more, the memories sparking and leaving his chest tensing, his actual heart aching. Ban tips his drink back in a clear sign he is done revisiting the dark, but never forgotten, corners of his life.

“Fuck.” Meliodas grimaces, finishing his mug so Ban isn’t drowning himself alone. “I think this is a wash, then.” They both eye the other, then take another drink. The two gather up their next beers and Mel starts drinking but Ban halts, bringing the mug to eye level. He spots that this cup still has red smears of lipstick stains on it, he’s drunk enough to holler again. “Wash!” He yells, not gripping what Meliodas is talking about as he focuses on the dirty glass. “This place wouldn’t know clean if Mr. Clean himself squeaked in here with a soapy rag.” He holds up his glass, showing no one and everyone in the same go. “Look at this! I’m basically making out with a stranger with these lip marks!”

Finally the bartender glares over to him, and in an exaggerated move Ban points to his current cup before sliding the full mug across the table to clang into all the empty cups waiting for pick up. Meliodas snickers, finishing off his beer with a sloppy wipe of his face on the back of his sleeve. “We’ll have pretty girls serving and picking up the dishes,” Ban determines.

Meliodas’s eyes grow wide, his hand slaps at the table top making the glasses jiggle together in a chiming chorus perfectly timed between songs and the bartender gives an exasperated, audible grunt from behind. “Elizabeth in a cut off shirt with a short, short shirt. Mm-hm, It’d be the uniform, she can’t refuse.”

Meliodas finds this idea brilliant, he’s practically beaming as his mind races with all the things he can ask her to do dressed like that. He’s mumbling, drunk enough to not realize he’s speaking out loud. “Obviously she’ll have to reach for the top shelf stuff, being short has its perks, and bend to pick up the fallen cups…” He’s practically licking his lips about it when Ban laughs.

“If you put Elaine in that ‘uniform’ I’ll knock your block off. C’mon let’s get some more. In, like, clean - CLEAN - glasses’s time.”

Ban’s slurring just about makes sense and Meliodas grins. “I’ll drink to that,” he cries, using the table as support to stand making the pile of glasses clink together from the unstable wobbling. “Alright. I’ll come with ya. We'll carry more with… um… one, two, three, four! Four hands. Right? Right!” He counted it out on his fingers and holds them up with a snorting laugh from his perceived success.

When they reach the bar, however, the staff stand in front of the vast array of multicoloured concoctions forming a firm, supportive line, their shoulders pressed back and some with arms folded across their chest. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough, sirs?” the bartender asks, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

Meliodas’s head is swimming like a fish in a tank, but even he can make out the insolent tone and his fists are curled by his side in an instant. He’s about to swing when Ban leans over him, nearly knocking him to the floor. “Who you callin’ sirs?” He growls, the effect somewhat undone by the way he leans his hands on Meliodas’s shoulders so hard the blonde loses an inch off his height as he fails to keep his knees straight.

“I will have to ask you to leave.” The bartender’s face is thunder. “Don’t make me call security,” he threatens as Ban leers and cracks his knuckles audibly.

Meliodas has a brief moment of clarity - they ought to leave, they could go back to his and continue their session, Elizabeth is staying at her sister’s tonight - but instead, he shakes his head and yells, “You and who’s army!” He picks up the nearest thing to hand - a dull metal fork, bits of food adhering to the prongs - and starts waving it about in, what he imagines to be, a rather menacing way. The bartender rolls his eyes, and a moment later Meliodas feels himself being picked up by the scruff of the neck and carried towards the exit. He attempts to swing round and to use the cutlery he is carrying but it is pulled from his grasp.

Ban is yelling as they are marched from the premises. “This’s a shithole anyway!” he proclaims, his words all blurring into one another. “You should’ll come t’our bar, it’s got, like, a pig, and a hat and like… it looks good okay, and it’s CLEAN.” Meliodas snickers, “Yeah!” he calls. “And we don’t have any mice either.” At this, the other patrons look around the bar with sharp glances, some pulling their feet up from the floor. A few leave money on the table and make a hasty exit as the bartender slaps his face down into his palm.

“Don’t come back,” the security guard warns as he deposits Meliodas and Ban out on the street before dusting off his hands and stepping back inside.

The pair stand on the sidewalk, swaying slightly as they break into spontaneous giggles. Meliodas claps Ban on the back, the latter nearly careening into the road under the force of his blow. The two look at each other and, in silent agreement, shuffle along, their sides bumping together as they make their way to a rival establishment a few paces along the street.

[terasaurtheveryflowydragon]

Is there a soul economy for demons?

Do low ranked demons worry about soul inflation?

Are there demonic stocks where the quality of souls is traded against those with low quality?

Has there ever been a soul-nomic crash?