The night had already grown dark, a time where most sought to the comfort of their home. Children were put to sleep and adults were glued to the box they called a television. However that was different for the exiled King whom couldn’t stand being in the four walls of his home and the suffocating feeling that ensued.

But perhaps he was a bit contradicting in his own ways? He detested often the company and mere sight of other men and fables, but by far his dislike was greater towards the nights and it’s terror that came to him in his sleep. And the only way to dull it had been a glass of alcohol.

— or five.

It was no secret to others that the Fable drank a lot when he wasn’t working. It had gone to the point where other fables would bring a bottle of Whisky to him when in dire need of his help and quick. But those bottles were long since finished to the last drop and left the dark haired man to venture to clench his thirst elsewhere.

And that elsewhere had for the occasion turned into a bar he had frequented since it’s establishment days. Also being the place where a fellow Fable spent his days as a bartender. It wasn’t that he was particularly close with the other Fable, but he enjoyed the atmosphere and the general feeling of the bar. Besides, what problem couldn’t alcohol fix?

With a gentle push he opened the door into the bar, eyes landing on the bartender, and fellow fable, as he offered a small nod. As the door closed behind him he ventured towards the bar counter, positioning himself next to the wall and hopefully a place other patrons wouldn’t decide to strike up a conversation.