"It's like, cabbage and carrots and covered in mayo... You know what, we'll talk about it later" she sighed, ruffling his hair. Anything she explained would be long forgotten tomorrow.

Satisfied that all the drink was gone, Faith raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "I'd like to see you try. Just face it, you're not very good at competitive spots." Grinning, she nudged him with her shoulder. Playing the same position was cool and all, but it definitely brought out her competitive side.

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"Yuck," his nose crinkled a little at the description. "Cabbage is never good, no matter what it is mixed with," he shuddered a little at the thought. His eyes got big like a puppy's when she ruffled his hair though, almost like he was ready and willing to go fetch a ball if she threw one.

"Hey!" he stumbled a bit at her nudge and pouted. "I could pick you up over my shoulders and carry you around the goal posts like three times before you got away," he teased, reaching as if he were about to do that very thing.

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"Fuck off!" Faith slapped his hands away and held her nose in the air. "You could not! You're as weak as a baby kitten. You know, when they are all mousy and their eyes don't open. That's what you are!" She was pointing a finger in his face and teetering a little on her tip toes to reach it.

"Just 'cause you're so big and... Russian, don't mean you're so strong, mister."

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He couldn't help but giggle as she slapped him away and called him a kitten. "A kitten?" he giggled. "I can turn into a little kitten," he snorted, talking about his animagus form. He nuzzled her shoulder with his head, it was not something he would normally do but being as drunk as he was, his reactions were quite a bit more silly than normal.

"Perhaps I should be less Russian. Would that convince you?" he asked. He tried on his best American South accent. "Aint that the darndest thing I ever seen?" he laughed. "I can not do that. Perhaps something else to prove I am strong?" he suggested.

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"Whatever. My animgaus will be a... crocodile and then you'll stand no chance!" Faith wasn't serious. Being an crocodile didn't appeal to her, but she definitely wanted to try out for being an animagus since she had got to know Sasha. "Hey, how come you never turn into a kitten around me? You could sleep in my lap when I'm trying to watch scary films instead of hiding behind my back like a sissy bitch" she joked.

"Please don't try accents" Faith said dead pan, pressing hr lips together into a fine line. "What will prove your strength?"

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"Would you scratch my little ears if I turn into a kitty?" he giggled, looking at her with big eyes. "I would turn into a kitty all the time then. Besides... I do not hide all the time. Only when the chainsaw killer starts sawing arms and heads off. All the blood scatter is just..." he shuddered. "I do not like that bit but I like when zombies eat brains," he giggled drunkenly, jumping from topic to topic. He tended to do that when he was around Faith though.

"Okay! I promise, no more accents," he put his huge hand over his heart and held up the other. "I solemnly swear," he grinned. "A true test of strength!" he said brightly. "Any brave task you assign to me! Perhaps a pain endurance or a near impossible feat!" he proposed.

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"Sash, that's the best part. We need to work on your tolerance levels. We should start right this minute."

Faith was quiet as she thought and downed the rest of her beer. "Okay, we'll see who is stronger. I've got the perfect idea." She paused for dramatic effect and smirked. "Tattoos. Let's get fucking tattoos!"

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He shuddered again. "I think I would much rather be a kitty," he nodded. "We will watch it again but I can not promise much," his face turned red with the thought of snuggling up in Faith's lap. He tried to drink from his empty cup without any success then squinted into the cup to remember he had drank it all.

When she proposed her idea though, Sasha's eyes grew wide. "A tattoo..." he put his hand for his forehead and looked at her as if she had gone mad. "My dad would kill me... but..." he knew he couldn't back down. "I suppose if that is your task then it must be completed right?" He swallowed hard. Where would they even get tattoos?

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That was pretty much a yes for Faith and she would hold him to it until he was crying like a baby and getting inked. The only problem was finding somewhere where they could get some. Faith looked around and dragged a sophomore by the scruff of his neck over to them.

"Hey! Where can we get fucking tattoos at.." she checked her watch. "One in the morning?"

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Sasha watch as Faith demanded information from the kid and even as the sophomore wriggled and squeaked, Sasha couldn't help but smile at his friend endearingly.

"There's a shady place in Bluebell Town!" the kid wriggled, trying to get away. "They don't check ID after midnight and being drunk is totally not a problem!"

Shit, Sasha knew he was in for it now. But if Faith was getting one too then... well... he could talk circles around himself all day but he knew she wasn't going to let him back out of it. "What is this place called?" Sasha asked.

"Dragon's Den!"

"Oh, is that the place near Super Nerds?"

"Yeah, yeah! That one!"

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Faith let go of the kid when they had the information and threw her plastic cup to the floor. "Let's roll" she said half seriously, pulling her hood up and heading for the front door.

"Do you think they'll let me get one for thirty bucks?" she asked, counting whatever money was left in her wallet.

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Sasha stumbled along behind her, chucking his cup over his shoulder and unknowingly knocking someone in the head with it. "Okay," he slumped along behind her.

"I think so. I do not even know how much tattoos are these days. I have some extra monies if you need some though," he offered. "What are you going to get?" he asked.

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