The brew that transported Blake led him directly into another brew. The frothing bubbles around blurred his vision. It was recognizably brown, and lively, and stretched on in strange shapes. As if distorted by glassy reflections, with water droplets descending on it...


A gurgling wall of flesh passed him by, and he realized: that wasn't just liquid he was seeing through. He WAS a glass of alcohol, right on the table of the Seventh Heaven! In the middle of closing up, giving everyone else a signal to get out, the lovely proprietor's midriff swayed around his position.




He couldn't believe it was actually her, complete with the white top, dark skirt, and flowing black hair, somewhat sweaty from her day's work. He was dangerously close to that dangerous expanse of a stomach, able to see its taught form. The boy-turned-beer tried to call out with his powers - but was interrupted by the unfamiliar sensation of a hand grasping him, and lifting him in the air. It was nauseating - not the least because of the mixed scent of brews floating around him, and the warm breath from the lips before him.


"Now that we're done for the day, down you go..."


This was a beer she'd poured for herself... HE was that alcohol.


Blake was only briefly thankful it wasn't Cloud or Barret's mug he ended up in. Before long, he realized - he was passing her maw, and seeing her uvula disappear beyond the horizon. Within a matter of seconds, he'd be locked within the very heart of Tifa Lockheart!


As he went down, the continual echoes tormented Blake. He kept struggling for some form of recognition, or a way to get her to spit him back up... But all his thoughts, or the bubbles that were his voice, were drowned out by the awaiting gurgles. His body spread about in multiple droplets, each landing with a SPLOOSH into the center of her stomach. It was too late to put him back together now. Her body would begin processing him, intaking the alcohol...


"Wooo, good stuff!" Tifa cringed slightly at the taste, and leaned over for another before closing up.


Blake drifted away, fearing where he may next open his eyes. That spot would be...

February 12
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