fandomtownies | The Devil's Nest, Saturday Evening, 6/25

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The Devil's Nest, Saturday Evening, 6/25

From the muttering that Bo was hearing from the end of the bar where Tiny leaned and poked at his phone, she gathered that tonight was going to be one of those nights where she'd probably have to keep half an eye on the customers herself. The bouncer was going to be too busy bitching at Tino -- either out loud or via text -- to be the first on the floor if a fight broke out.

Fine with Bo; physically spiffy but mentally twitchy from worrying about the sources of all that spiff, she almost looked forward to some kind of scuffle. Busting some heads would distract her.

Of course, by the third time she heard him yell Sixty points for QAT?? How is that even a WORD? at no one in particular, Bo was wondering if she should start with Tiny's. "Can't you two just shoot birds at pigs like normal people?"

[OOC: Open!]

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"Weirder than Fandom?" Because that would be impressive. Thought the succubus. Who wasn't going to mention that fact to an independent consultant for the FBI.

"Nah," Peter said, shaking his head. "Not yet. I haven't ever woken up as a completely different person back home, so it would be hard to compare."

He took another sip. "So do you enjoy the bar tending racket?"

Bo made a face. "When I'm not waking up as a completely different bartender. A guy bartender. From Indiana."

"My sympathies," Peter said. "As it stands, I'm pretty sure you're much prettier as a woman bartender. From... wherever you're from."

Yes, he was flirting. Which would probably only further make Emma want to hurt him, if she came in.

"Here, there, and everywhere." Yeah, the hometown was not getting trotted out. Not because she minded the flirting; it was kind of genetically encoded in her. She just didn't trot out the hometown for anybody ~~not least because it hasn't been revealed in canon yet~~. "Canada most recently, but I move around a lot. I'm Bo, by the way."

"Peter," he offered up. "Canada's a nice place. Surprisingly hard to forge the work visa. But I managed to do it, in the end."

Okay, that might have earned him a minor snicker. "Not that I would do anything like that, but if I did, I'd probably concentrate on, say, making friends with a minor customs official or two." Of course, by friends, she meant acquaintances who hopefully don't remember getting macked on while they processed your paperwork, but details, details.

"The problem there is knowing when and where they'll be on duty," Peter said. "Plus, I find people can be pretty unreliable over time. But that's at least my own experience. Call me cynical, I call it practicality."

"Oh, I'm with you there. I mean make just enough friends to get somebody good to forge your documents."

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The Devil's Nest, Saturday Evening, 6/25

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