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The Devil's Nest: Saturday, 7/9

Okay, so Bo wasn't usually the kind of person who got hooked on crap that came free from her phone market, but ... this one had robot unicorns. And played an Erasure song over and over again. And it mocked you when you got yourself killed.

It was just obnoxious enough to be addictive purely for the purpose of being able to finally mock it back when she won.

What we're saying here is that Tiny might be helping out a bit behind the bar tonight.

[OOC: Apologies for SP from heck; I blame the National Pokemon Championships. Stop looking at me funny; my nephew is ranked 11 in his age-group. And is in my living-room, so.]

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Where Bo was around, but possibly becoming a little crazed, so for speed and lack of Erasure-hate, Tiny was also an option.

Kenzi had no need of the Tiny's of this world, no no. She was here with stolen bills to buy boooze from her favorite non-human security person!

"Appletini, and keep 'em coming!"

"What part of 'We don't serve alcohol to minors' --- DAMN it, ran into a star. I hate this game so. much."

It was a stupid, stupid game. That she couldn't win. Not that it was stupid because she couldn't win it. The stupidity was completely unconnected to that fact.

"I have an ID that says I'm legal," Kenzi pointed out, then leaned up over the bar to peer at Bo's game. "Whatcha doing?" Yeah, not leaving that easily.

"Running unicorns into rainbows and watching their heads explode," Bo answered not at all sarcastically. Stupid, stupid game. "And I have an ID that says I'm Aretha Smith; doesn't mean I can sing the blues."

"Now, is that a nice way to treat the virgin-pals?" Kenzi asks, trying to just hang over the bar and reach a glass and maybe a bottle of tequila now. "What've you got against unicorns, O Queen of Blues?"

"I'm not trying to kill them," Bo complained, dropping her phone on the counter to display the severed electronic head of a weeping silver unicorn. "They just keep running into shit faster than I can make them jump over it."

The aforementioned action leaving Bo's hands free to take a slap at any fingers that might be taking a walk towards the forbidden liquor.

"Ahhh. Got it. Should've expected they wouldn't do what you want," Kenzi said sadly, then saying "ow ow ow" as she pulled back her fingers and stuck them in her mouth. "Diet Coke?"

While she tried to think of her next move. "Your coolness powers don't extend to phone games, got it."

"Or maybe fake unicorns just don't like me." Diet Coke, Bo could do, and she set about pouring one on the rocks. "We're kind of antithetical."

"Horse with a horn... woman with sex powers," Kenzi said, weighing her options in front of her. "Well, I know which one I'd want to be. Oh oh oh! That reminds me! Of my awesome idea!"

Fear. Bo had fear.

"If this involves waiting for the island to travel forward in time then trying to convince me this makes you five years older and I can serve you now, let me save you some effort."

Shit, why hadn't she thought of that? That expression was probably pretty easy to read.

"No, but I'm reminding you of that later. No, this is a way for us to be reach beyond the dreams of bar tabs!" Kenzi chair-danced in glee. "If you'll just be the muscle!"

Bo's ~~icon~~ expression did not change. "I'm... listening. Warily."

"So on the other side of the Causeway is 1812 London, and there's all these art museums," Kenzi said in a rush, eyes lit up maniacally. "And there's practically no security! None! Toby and I snuck into one in broad daylight!"

You could probably fill in the rest even as she took a breath.

"To avoid an entry fee that's like, what, a nick--" Oh, for Chrissake. "I'm not helping you rob a museum!"

"Oh come on! It's not like it'll break time! Toby was so wrong about that! Stuff went missing all the time back then!"

No, she hadn't looked it up. She just assumed it worked the same way it did in 2011.

"No, because I'm not a thief!" Just, you know, a murderer and occasional user of sexual influence to get free pizzas and information. "But thanks for adding 'might break the universe' to my list of reasons why not."

"But you could be!" Kenzi coaxed. This was a good thing! Bo could expand her resume! "Don't you want enough money to quit your day job? And your night job? And maybe buy enough boots to last you 'til next century, if you're around for that?"

"Sure. But I want it to be my money, not some museum's money that I stole, probably along with some really underpaid security guard's job."

"Dude, this is what insurance is for," Kenzi tried to insist, squirming a little. She pouted. "Maybe he deserves to get fired?" she tried.

"It's 1812 out there. Do you think they even have insurance?" Admittedly Bo was bluffing on that one; she had no idea. Still, it seemed like a good argument.

It wasn't like stealing is wrong was likely to work.

"Duuuuuuuuuude," Kenzi whined, contorting her body as if fighting a wrestler and not just disapproving words. "They have plenty! We don't!"

She'd had a lot less, a week ago. This wouldn't have even been a discussion, then.

"You know there are ways to get cash that are actually legal and available in town, right?" Bo had to check. "It's called a 'job.' " There were airquotes. "You perform 'work' and then later they give you money."

"Like what?" Kenzi said, snorting. "You even worked for fast food? Grease buckets run by grease buckets? I'm only 17, dude."

And most places did not hire street kids, even if they occasionally had good intentions.

She got an eyeroll right back. "Half the places on the island are looking for student workers. The guy who runs Caritas even lets them tend bar."

She... probably should not have told Kenzi that, as an adult role model.

Role mo-- ahahaha. Pardon Bo while she tried not to laugh out loud at her previous thought.

"Really?" Ooooo. "Think they'd give me free booze?"

Score!

And yet... "C'mon, wouldn't it be cool to be really rich, though? What can't money buy us? Aside from twu wuv?"

"No, but I think they'd sell it to you; they don't card." Okay, so she was going to hell, but if a little underage drinking on an island that didn't even have room for cars distracted the kid from grand theft...

"Then I am definitely going over there. And maybe even getting a job." She bounced on her toes, then said, "We should still go into London, though. Together! Although you'll have to wear a skirt, maybe. Think you'd get arrested otherwise."

If she herded her toward the National Gallery....

Mmm-hmm. Bo was so onto that.

Still, she wasn't against the trip, per se.

"This skirt?" She stepped out from behind the bar for a moment, grinning.

Kenzi hooted and gave her double thumb's up. "Wayyyy to work the assets! You are totally illegal, and would have those snooty London types eating out of your hand. In fact, that might be worth it just for the whole trip."

"Eating out of my hands while they haul me off to jail for prostitution or indecent exposure?" Bo shook her head, ducking back behind the bar. "I'll find something that actually won't get me arrested or stuck in a home for wayward succubi or whatever."

She glanced toward the empty VIP area. "Maybe I'll ask Eric to vet the outfit. He's old enough to remember what would pass."

Kenzi rose on tiptoe to look toward where Bo was looking. "Oooo. Is he one of the Kenzi-vores you mentioned you were dating?"

"I'm not dating him." Impromptu threesomes and breaking and entering together did not count as a date. Right? "He's my boss. But yeah, he's a vampire. Who used to be a Viking."

Edited 2011-07-11 02:01 (UTC)

"Meee-owww," Kenzi purred, and said, "So, you just hang out, and work, and sometimes he wears a helmet with horns while swinging a big sword?" Meet Kenzi's friend, Innuendo. She loooves him.

"...I have never seen him in a helmet."

The fact that she didn't mention the sword meant nothing. Nothing.

Kenzi cackled and slurped on her drink, possibly suggestively.

Despite being warned that vampires weren't the only people around here who might devour a hapless DJ, he was still playing A Little Respect every 4th song or so.

...is probably empty, but, well. The booth is still there?

Lateness and massive SP I must both sadly blame on guestages, several of whom are of the short and energetic variety.

*waves to the small people*

Uh, I'm confused, 'cause I won't actually see you till next we-

oh. You mean short and energetic children, I get it.

Ahahahaha like you have energy. :-P

I'M ~~ROCKET~~ SUGAR-POWERED.

Gummi-shark-induced energy does not count. (Neither does vodka + Red Bull.)

Note however that you will bring me Beaver Buzz. :D

ETA: ...you know, despite knowing that it generally sounded dirty, I never until now was sunstricken and exhausted enough to realize that it specifically sounds like a bikini-wax gone horribly awry.

Edited 2011-07-10 04:19 (UTC)

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The Devil's Nest: Saturday, 7/9

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