It was mandatory as a member of the Spriggan 12 to take on complex missions – often riddled with complications and unreliable room service. It was only a matter of time before he was forced to take leave from his homey office on an unpredictable shit storm that was the rest of Alvarez. Of course this mission would involve a corrupt politician with too many goldfish. Of course it would force him to sleep in an attic above a strip club. And of course he would lose his pants to an over-excited poodle in front of his own men.
Thankfully, Invel only had to survive for a couple of months before finally executing the politician and return home. Return to the hopefully peaceful and quiet–
Lace tied in perfect bows, carefully wrapped around the usually flamboyant spriggan, pinned him to the ceiling of Invel's office. Neinhart's limbs were knotted together in a rather sexual position and unable to do anything about it, he bowed his head in shame. Invel found himself standing dumbfounded below him, questioning when, where, who, why, and how Neinhart ended up in such a compromising situation.
Finally, Neinhart looked up, violet eyes blazing.
"Welcome back," he snarled, "Now fucking help me."