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Jordan had been succumbing to the effects of the alcohol as well, excpet in his case, it was making him sleepy. His furry arms made great pillows to rest his head on and with one eye already closed, he was starting to lose himself as sleep beckoned him. His right eye closed, then opened halfway, muttering "Whatever.." in leui of more coherent response.

"Yeah, yeah.. old people only talk about the good old days and how they single-handledly won whatever war was being fought.." he snorted indignantly. "I was born in the nineteen-eighties, not the eighteen-eighties.. and I bet you remember when you could buy as moon pie and an RC cola for a nickel.." he'd remembered his own dad talking about times before Jordan's own and it was pathetic to hear them whine about 'the good old days'. Not to mention very annoying.

He was having trouble even keeping focused on Richard's bitter words about the past and how Superman had fought the Kaiser in a race with the nuclear bomb- or something like that. He was really floating away in a world all his own now. Jordan's other eye closed and he was falling into alcohol-induced sleep, nose flaring and twitching as he passed out on his arms, on the barstool.

He didn't even hear the last part of Richard's words, nor know Richard had even left. All he did know is that he was content and calm. He'd drank his troubles away for now and that's what he'd come here to do. His tail wiggled a bit as he slipped deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

It was difficult to think a year had passed, in the sense that he was now another year older and once again missing a body part. He wasn't sure when the birthday in question had happened; it was in his own best interests to stay away from calendars, so that the time that had passed wouldn't seem like such an enormous leap. Still, a birthday? That meant acknowledging he'd been human once. Too much. When the thought wouldn't leave him alone at all that day he took to downing a bottle and a half of beer. It wasn't nearly enough to shock his system into a stupor, though, and the taste was made even more horrible by his selective palate. He needed a better selection.

The alcohol hadn't quite gotten to his gait on its own. However, between the sand, his already poor balance, and the stuff sloshing in his stomach, he wasn't particularly coordinated. He felt miserable and he couldn't even explain it without sounding strange even to himself. He came to a stumbling halt by the bar, catching onto it while his wings opened like poorly-timed parachutes after he'd broken his fall. There was no immediate notice of Lucas as he reached blindly for a bottle and came up with gin. Only after he'd finished pouring himself a glass of it did his mind suddenly correlate red canines with lost eyes. His one yellow eye stared blankly from over the bottle, gin leaking down the sides of the glass as he poured too much in surprise.

It was simply amazing how the day could only get worse.

Zach had mentally made no plans to encounter the dhole again, so the first thing he attended to was his overflowing glass. With the gin bottle shoved down the bar and himself perched at the seat on the very end of the bar, there was a certain degree of safety. The alcohol made things seem a lot less threatening. But this was the man who had taken his eye in the first place! He needed retribution, vengeance, he.... already got that. That action really ought to have done the talking for him, but given the snarl on Lucas's face he didn't suppose that it had made the dhole any less insane. He couldn't see whether or not the eye in the jar was a perfect match to an empty socket there. All he had was his own scarred eye socket and horrible worry that one little slip-up could cost him his chances of ever getting the eye back. Lucas had nothing to do with why he couldn't get it back. The problem there was a little more complicated and distressing.

He dipped his head down and lapped up some of the excess gin, ignoring the burn of alcohol stinging at his tongue and throat. His eye stared the whole time, watching Lucas for sudden movement. The panic button was on him, but he'd be lucky to match his thumb up with the button on it in the state he was in. There didn't seem to be any immediate problems, though. After all, Sabin wouldn't stop removing Lucas's organs one by one if he was given a reason to. After a suitably awkward pause, the dragon broke the silence.

"Twenty-seven," he offered, as though it explained everything on his mind and in his glass. He raised the glass slightly, gin sloshing out, then clicked it back against the bartop and groaned.

"Years." The long tail moved sluggishly over sand. He wasn't going to mention the eye loss on either of their parts if Lucas didn't. He tried to get a bit more alcohol in his system, sloshing some into his watertight maw. Maybe if he drank enough the troubling thoughts would go away and leave him alone for another year. It was worth a try. "Old. Birthday happened, I guess. Don't know if it was today, or yesterday, or a week ago. But it doesn't really make a difference... wasn't even when I first got here. Damnit, this stuff stings."

"This time last year I had a lot more skin." He held up a thickly-scaled hand, looking it over like it didn't belong to him at all. It was a look not of pride but of curiosity. His voice sounded halfway between happiness and revulsion over the revelation he made about it. When the hand stopped looking interesting he started scratching lightly at his sunken socket, underneath the eyepatch. It itched like crazy sometimes.

"Maybe I am," he glowered back, instantly annoyed by the lack of enthusiasm from Lucas. Lucas had an excuse not to like him, but it was still damn rude of him. Birthdays didn't happen often. Only once a year. He could use less of the venom at least for one day. Worry was still plaguing him over... everything. Sabin was doing what he could to 'make a case' to get Zach's eye back. Unfortunately, the record that this would be going against was the one of his attack on Aubrey a year previously. While it was by no means his fault, he was still nearly killed over it. Not good at all. "Wouldn' have to if I had two eyes 'stead of one. It'll be a wonder 'f Sabin can get me my eye back after all that's happened. I don't blame him 'f he can't."

He slumped over his glass and brooded. He'd slowly been coming to terms with the fact that his eye loss was likely to be permanent, and he wasn't taking kindly to the thought. He wasn't considering Lucas's feelings about eye loss, though. Lucas wasn't the victim, he was.

"'Course. I'm surprised you're underestimating them. What they can do with science. It's not as bad here as everyone pretends it is." There was a slight slur to his S's as they grew a little more drawn out into hissing. He'd been a little worried before that Lucas would go after his other eye, but between the comfort of the panic button safely at his side and the dhole's distance, he didn't feel like he had anything to worry about from him. Zach wouldn't be able to do anything in self-defense, though, should Lucas change his mind about staying back. Sabin's chiding letter following Gaius's break-in was enough of a deterrent. If he hurt anyone else, his eye could be compromised forever. Was it worth more injury? He knew that anyone who attacked him paid a price, but it was disheartening that no one was learning from the mistakes of others. "'Sides, people grow new stuff all the time here. Arms and legs and tails, mostly. But they're new. I already got an arm back, myself. Completely possible."

"Reasons," he offered cryptically, stopping himself from giving anything away. Not many seemed to know about the incident, which was fine with him. And he still had his suspicions about Lucas. The dhole had no reason to care, so his question bothered the dragon at first. The gin was chipping away slowly at that. He wanted some form of companionship right now, seeing as he felt miserable enough as it was. His bizarre animal mix wasn't even the part of him reaching out with the conversation; only when he thought about things in completely human terms did he consider himself lonely. He was feeling lightheaded now, but it somehow didn't feel like enough. If he was going to get drunk, he'd get blind drunk. There was no sense in being drunk unless he was several drinks beyond caring. He sloshed more alcohol down his throat, ignoring the unpleasant burn.

Maybe he could give Lucas the benefit of the doubt this time. It wasn't like no one knew. He'd done his fair share of repenting and getting things straightened out, doing what he could to prove he wasn't a bloodthirsty monster like the ones that stalked the jungle. Most importantly, it hadn't been his fault in the first place. "First, I wanna know... when'd you get here? T'the island."