Niko's confused look ebbed to mournful. He could at least work out what "synthehol" meant. He didn't see why people would drink something that tasted as terribly as alcohol if the buzz wore off immediately.

"Oh," he observed anticlimactically. "I guess I am out of luck then, friend." Which was a pity because he could really use that drink. He couldn't shake his worries, and it had seemed like a good way to forget.

He worked his expression into a tight little frown and pushed the glass away, then adjusted his fingerless gloves. Well, he guessed he was done trying for the night. He guessed he would have to lay out some sort of strategic plan to find a real drink in this place.