Bo Jones. Or maybe Dennis. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nookiepowered) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2012-05-12 08:13 pm
nookiepowered) wrote in fandomtownies2012-05-12 08:13 pm
Entry tags:
The Devil's Nest, Saturday, May 12
"Okay, I can accept the Blue Curaçao for Really Strong Guy Who Can Fly because it's the same color as his suit, and the extra-sour Lemon Drops for Bitterwoman, but Ratnipples?"
Tiny just crossed his arms and stared pointedly at the raisin-flavored rum.
Bo crossed her arms right back. Under her breasts because she was not stupid. All advantages should be used, especially in a situation this serious. (Except for the one where she could win this argument boobs down if she used her powers on him, but that would be cheating.) "No. I don't care if George Clooney was in it. There are some adaptations we don't acknowledge exist."
Bo was pleased to see it took Tiny at least twenty seconds to tear his gaze away from her neckline and point to the layered Bailey's-and-Creme de Cacao drink she'd labeled Ferretwoman's Tail.
"The Eartha Kitt one, not the Halle Berry one. Please."
Superhero-Themed Shooters:
$3.50 each or 4 for $12.00.
Tiny just crossed his arms and stared pointedly at the raisin-flavored rum.
Bo crossed her arms right back. Under her breasts because she was not stupid. All advantages should be used, especially in a situation this serious. (Except for the one where she could win this argument boobs down if she used her powers on him, but that would be cheating.) "No. I don't care if George Clooney was in it. There are some adaptations we don't acknowledge exist."
Bo was pleased to see it took Tiny at least twenty seconds to tear his gaze away from her neckline and point to the layered Bailey's-and-Creme de Cacao drink she'd labeled Ferretwoman's Tail.
"The Eartha Kitt one, not the Halle Berry one. Please."
Superhero-Themed Shooters:
$3.50 each or 4 for $12.00.
The Bar [5/12]
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What? She'd never met Hot Future Tony.
"The nipples aren't mine," Bo replied immediately, jabbing a finger toward the doorway where Tiny had gone back to doing his actual job.
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"I should certainly hope not," Holmes replied promptly, hand on the bar and fingers tapping as his attention darted all over the room like a child in desperate need of medication.
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He smiled at her, leaning against the bar. "One, please. I will leave the choice of which up to the bartender."
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Honestly now, Holmes. Did Trick look the pickpocket type?
...Though he was at an excellent height for it.
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Actually, the Librarian was a little surprised it had taken him this long to get to one of the bars in town, but spending time traversing the L-space between Fandom High and the Unseen University could take a lot out of an ape. It was for that reason that he felt more inclined to step into the quieter dives of this island rather than the Mended Drum back home, even if they did know and love them there, as much as one could love in a place where a good night was one where only three punches were thrown at you.
He knuckled his way over to the bar, climbed on up on the stool, and perched himself there with a thumping of his big leathery hand on the bar and an order of, "Ook ook."
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Less to Bo's credit, she had no idea what it was he'd really said, nor whether he was an alien shaped like an orangutan, a human who just happened to wake up as an orangutan today, or... an orangutan. Who happened to be her teaching buddy, not that anyone had informed her that she was supposed to be looking for an orangutan. STUPID SCHOOL BOARD.
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The lady posed a very good question, though, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a few moments before nodding and giving a very decisive, "Ook."
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Why was Bo asking herself that, on this island?
"We have a case of Buttface Amber Ale in the back," she offered in lieu of remotely understanding his reply. "That's kind of imported and domestic."
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Succubus. Yes. He wasn't quite ready to focus on what other facets of Bo's identity. That one was enough.
It might have taken Trick a few moments to nerve himself up to walking into the bar, but when he did, it was with a calm demeanor and pleasant expression. Trick was used to playing a role and not showing his true feelings. Sure, pretending Bo was a stranger might have been as hard as playing a simple barkeep for the past...however many centuries, but he could do it.
"Evening," he said, settling down at the bar. "I'll have a--" He almost said Ratnipples, but NO ONE could be that distracted. "A mead, if you have one?"
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Wait. That sounded like he was hitting on--no no no bad thought! Bad thought!
Quickly, he added, "And if I'm wrong about my tolerance, I'll at least be easy to carry out and toss into a rickshaw?"
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Sadly, she didn't know to mentally add NOT DIRTY OHGOD NOT DIRTY, so the narrative took the liberty of adding it for her.
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He was playing it cool.
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Black and white talking puppy-ear person, orangutan.... it was just one of those nights, so Bo figured she might as well roll with it.
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The Dance Floor [5/12]
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