@timelord1101@Dark Light@BillsomethingTick was a fairy princess, little known to his peers, so being held by a large strong man was all he could think about. He longed for his firm embrace, his tight buttox, thick arms...
Then the concussion wore off.
Now this was by no means the first time he’d had his ass handed to him in a bar fight, and he was pretty confident that it wouldn't be the last. That being said this was the first time he ever had to sit through his own defeat, and be left helpless to do nothing but moan as he was manhandled by some unseen force.
He wasn't quite sure if he could see right, but as he was carried up the stairs into the main room Alex seemed to have some lanky bastard by the shoulder who was intent on verbally sparring with a keg. Struggling meekly, he couldn't escape the grasp of his captor to defend the last cheap real booze in this town.
“Noooo...” he feabily called
“I can’t go back to soy, ya just can do that to a guy!” A single tear Tic refused to hide, solemnly fell down his face, if he was thrown out now all he’d have to remember this place by was his shirt still reeking of the whisky that had been spilt the night before. However, much to his joy, he seems to be being carried into another room in the tavern.
‘YES! I can stay in this drunken wonderland’
“Doorman would love this place...” he muttered as he faded back into his own subconscious.