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The Devil's Nest: Saturday, June 16

Like several others in town today, Bo had a book on the counter as she worked.

Unlike most of them, the title had nothing to do with gradations of hue, unless you judged Pixies, Peris and Phoukas by the color of their wings and/or hooves, which Bo did not, though she did kind of wonder if maybe there was some of the last one in her ancestry somewhere and that would explain how the island was nice enough to let her keep her boots when she turned into a pony.

Tiny, on the other huge, vise-like hand? Allllll about the hues.

Which would have been fine with Bo -- fine but OH so JUDGING YOU, TINY -- if he hadn't been flipping through and reading it out loud.

"I hate you, and that's not even physically possible unless he had three arms and a prehensile tail!"

And no, she did not deserve it for last week. No one deserved this. Especially not page eighty-three.

"And it wouldn't be sexy even if he did!"

Tiny chortling sounded like an earthquake in rockslide country.

[THAT BOOK. IT IS IN MY LOCAL FRIGGIN' SUPERMARKET WHY.]

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Where your bartender also had a copy of the latest Angelica Demesnes and was just this close to putting her research away and retaliating with multi-species orgiastic pirate-hat-wearing purple romance that was still better written and more plausible than the Other Thing.

Edited 2012-06-17 00:16 (UTC)

Why Loki was at a bar was, quite frankly, beyond him. But there he was. With a stamp on his hand and a very concerned expression on his face.

"Dare I ask?"

"Why he's reading that crap out loud?" Bo guessed. "Because he wants my brain to melt and drain out my ears."

Well, that answered all his questions. Wait, no.

"Are all people here so obsessed with reading and viewing implausible acts of fornication?"

"Apparently." Grump-grumpity grump. Someone needed to tale a portal Walesward soon. "I could deal with implausible if they even sounded fun, but no."

Student, Bo. Non-Kenzi student.

Loki cocked his head to the side. "Ah, I see."

Succubi were like that.

Bo frowned slightly. "You see what? And what can I get you that won't get me fired?"

"I will have a soda!" They were sugary and amazing, okay? "You are not human."

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The Librarian was not like most Wizards of the Unseen University, and that was not just because he was an orang-utan, but because he believed that Saturday nights were for drinking and beautiful women*. And the Devil's Nest had both.

Which was why he knuckled on over to his usual barstool, climbed up with incredible ease, and gave his ritual slapping-hand-and-ook-ook order, complete with sideways-banana smile.

_____
*It wasn't that the other Wizards didn't enjoy drinking and beautiful women, they were less inclined to admit to it, and there was typically a great deal of stammering and shifting when they did.

"Is that a sideways banana, or are you just happy to see me?" Bo asked while sliding a Buttface Amber Ale across the bar to him.

She blamed Tiny.

The Librarian caught the beer easily in his hand, which wasn't the impressive part. The impressive part was that he caught it without crushing it.

"Ook." It was an appreciative answer that seemed to suggest both.

"I'll take that as an Ook." And hey, thanks to the radio, she actually knew who he was now. "So would you believe I'm supposed to be your teaching buddy, and it took me this long to figure it out?"

She still didn't know why he was, because, um, orangutan, but she assumed Zoe had her reasons. Or possibly her secret crystal meth habit.

The Librarian tilted his head, which was then promptly scratched, and he asked an inquiring, "Ook?"

But then he let out a chuff that might have been a chuckle, followed by a series of more laugh-similar ooks somewhere around the nature of approval for this kind of a buddy. You didn't get buddies like this at the Unseen University.

"What can I say; I'm a slow learner, which is probably why I don't actually teach. I do work for the school, though, so I guess it's close enough."

"Ook ook ook?"

A particularly observant person might take the slightly pursed lips, the gleam in the orang-utan's eyes, and the elbow on the bar to support his knuckle on the side of his face as an interested gesture, one willing to sit through even the more dull of elaborations if it meant a few more points on his scorecard.

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It was like the mention of egregious erotica summoned her out of the ether. Or possibly the purple prose.

"Booze!"

You never knew, Bo could be having one of those weekends and ante up.

"Lemonade!"

They were randomly shouting out beverages, right?

"Root beer?... with ice cream!"

Sure, why not?

"You should audition to traumatize, I mean, orient, the newbies."

"I...will serve that to you. Unlike the booze, and unlike the auditioning for anything because no."

"Because why no?" Kenzi paused and sent Tiny a Look as he kept up his Dramatic Reading. "The hell? Is he auditioning for Marat-Sade, or as your next boy-toy?"

"He's auditioning for my FIST IN HIS FACE," said Bo grimly, shooting daggers at him as she raised her voice.

Kenzi shuddered. "And I thought that Angelica chick's writing was over the top. Christ. YO, TINY." She wasn't sure how to follow that up for a second, then said, "I WILL TAKE OUT AN AD FOR YOU ON CHRISTIANSINGLES DOT COM. I SWEAR I WILL."

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If you could dance to the wedding soundtrack from Breaking Wind: Part One, you were stronger of stomach than everyone but tonight's DJ, and your bartender saluted you.

Where, even if there were a vampire, there would be no sparkling tonight, nor whateverthefuck it was that humans did when they were thinly-disguised fanfiction avatars of sparkling vampires.

Hand to God, there actually is a Twilight parody called Breaking Wind. It's still on the New Release shelf at my local Family Video.

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