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Devil's Nest [Thursday evening]

The DJ was cranking the music tonight, but you could hear Jack's anguished cry even over that as he came in for another shift:

"WHY IS THE RUM GONE?!!!"

Good luck getting anything useful from him. He was busy sobbing behind the bar.

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Where a useless Jack and a confused Tiny were ready to assist you!

Where tonight's theme was one hit wonders.

Oh, Milli Vanilla, we hadn't missed you.

Where Eric was gone, disappeared to the storeroom where he was yelling at Pam in ancient Norse about where the hell his stock had disappeared to.

It was a moral imperative that I post this today. Poor Jack.

Anakin was in a booth nursing a Coke and scowling. This had not been the plan.

He was blaming the lack of alcohol on Madrox because he was reasonable like that.

Edited 2011-09-08 14:32 (UTC)

Hercules had a large mug of root beer in his hand, a quizzical look on his face, and a proper set of normal clothes on.

Why were all the libations gone? It was almost the job for an Avenger to find out...

"You know, I'd expected some more men passed out on the floor around here," Alistair commented to the room at large, as he sat down. "This tavern is missing some of its ambience."

"Why the sour puss?" Hercules said, greeting Anakin. "This is to be a happy hour!"

"Ahhhh, those were the days," Hercules said. "And the smell of stale ale and the corner where shady people did shady things, all... shady."

"In the shade," Alistair said, wisely, "Shading things beyond the reach of light."

That was poetic. Sort of. "It just doesn't feel like a proper tavern, you know? What with the lack of... shading."

"I know," Jamie said going ahead and taking a seat at the booth. "Blame it on the Rain isn't my favorite song either."

Because surely Anakin was scowling because of the music.

"I prefer Girl You Know It's True, myself."

"Hey Officially-Appointed-Teaching-Buddy," Jamie said with a wave. "How goes the new semester?"

"Why is that filthy man at the bar crying like a girl?" Tyrion inquired, genially enough, as he pulled himself into a booth and was pleased to note it was placed low enough that he wouldn't have to kneel on the seat cushion. "And where are the wenches with the ale?"

"No serving girls, either," Tyrion noted. "And horrible music, unless they prefer castrated bards here. Hello again."

"You could look happier to see some company," Tyrion suggested. "Unless there's very bad news I haven't heard yet."

He hadn't ordered a drink yet. This was why he was still in a good mood,

"Hello again," Alistair replied, merrily. Sort of merrily. He still hadn't managed to find any ale anywhere. "I see you've found your way to the island's most reputable establishment."

There might have been some finger-wriggling on 'reputable'. Just a little.

"It goes well!" Hercules declared, happily. "Tomorrow I will make the students face the many headed Hydra... or perhaps I should say HYDRA."

He chuckled to himself. "Wait... that doesn't sound any different said out loud."

"Or the live chickens, scuttling about," Hercules said. "Though if you go to the right place, you still get fellow patrons with faces you could use to hammer in a nail!"

"My buddy" -- and there was just a little eye-rolling on that title -- "said it was here, or a place overrun with children. Besides, at least two of their bartenders are rather pretty."

He glanced to the sobbing fellow. "Though my luck on that score seems to have run out."

"One of the taverns the Wardens took me to after my Joining had several pigs," Alistair shared, waving at the bartender and succeeding only in getting something black and fizzy.

Quite possibly someone should rescue the bar from Alistair plus sugary drinks, soon. "I think one of them actually used one of the patron's faces to play 'pin the drunkard on the hog'... though that might have just been a dream..."

Alistair pulled a face. "I can smell him from here," he said. Which, coming from him, was a big thing. "What's he so sad about, I wonder..."

"I'm guessing this is the evil organization from our world and not the mythological beast?" Jamie asked. "Either way? Something to write home about."

That got a hearty laugh and some table slapping out of Hercules.

"It sounds like you've been to the best sort of places. I'm almost jealous."

"The kind in the funny suits," Hercules said. "Though less funny than the ones who dress like beekeepers. Those ones are hilarious. Especially when you punch them in the face."

"How hard it is to comb his hair?" That was lame. Tyrion needed to do better next time.

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Devil's Nest [Thursday evening]

The Bar

Dance Floor and Lounge

The VIP Section

OOC

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