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The Devil's Nest: Saturday, August 4

"Yes, even you," said Bo, sliding a novelty giant-size beer mug across to Tiny and adding the price to the notepad she'd stashed beside the cash register.

She didn't even have the heart to throw anything at him when he admitted after draining half the beer that as far as he remembered, they'd barely even interacted after she'd quit the Devil's Nest and went to work for Umbridge.

APOLOGY SPECIAL

One free drink on the bartender if I

Killed
Stabbed
Sucked (if you don't know what it means, it doesn't mean what you think it means)
Threatened to Kill, Stab or Suck
Taught*

or otherwise traumatized you last week
(or sometime before last week in an alternate past that I don't remember but you do).

Sorry.

*You're still not getting booze if you're under 21. Sorry again.

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Where your bartender was wearing black leather, thank you.

Except for two items that you couldn't see, but neither of those was pink.

Miriam was ignoring that under 21 note. This was her first time checking out the place, after all.

She plopped herself down at the bar. "You threatened to stab me once," she lied. "How about a beer?" Girl had to try.

"I'm sorry for threatening to stab you, even if I don't remember it. How about a Coke?"

Bo respected the attempt enough to give it a grin, but not enough to give her a beer.

"I'm twenty-one!" Miriam protested. She reached into her messenger bag for a fake ID, then winced as she remembered the cops had confiscated it. She'd have to get that replaced some day.

"OK, Coke it is. Mexican if you got it. None of that diet shit."

"Does Mexican Coke have Jalapenos in it or something?" Bo had no idea whether they had Mexican Coke.

"Real sugar," Miriam said. "I don't give a shit about that high fructose corn syrup crap. Just tastes better."

"Hunh. The more you know." Bo was plenty old enough to remember those PSAs, but juuuuust young enough to have missed the Golden Era when American Coke had sugar in it. "Lemme check."

That was, sadly, a quick check. "No Mexican Coke. Yes Pepsi Throwback?"

"Works," Miriam said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Soooooooo," she drawled, "if sucking isn't blowjobs, what is it?" What? It was right there on the sign, begging to be asked.

"I should've put 'If you don't know what it means, it doesn't mean what you think it means and you don't need to know what it means,'" Bo reflected aloud as she fetched up a glass and ice. "But just in case I ever go crazy again, it means I suck energy, so staying away from me if I'm wearing pink or my eyes are blue could be a wise move."

"Like some sort of energy vampire?" Miriam said, drumming her fingers idly on the bar. "No fucking way."

She was getting better at not automatically assuming people were nuts, at least.

"Something like that." Except for the specifics about what type of energy, which this girl did not need to know because unlike certain other Bos, this one was not going to be MAKING OUT WITH TEENAGERS.

Probably.

Sex pretty much required Miriam knowing just when and how someone was going to die, which she found a mood killer. Usually. She'd make exceptions.

"Cool," she said. "Less messy than blood, I guess."

Bo was a grown-up who'd grown up in the Midwest, succubus or not, and would not say Not necessarily, if you're doing it right, or anything about what happened when you mixed the two. she would just think it.

"No less deadly, though."

Edited 2012-08-05 03:25 (UTC)

"A couple weeks ago I might have thought you were just fucking with me, but now. . . ." Miriam shrugged. "This place is crazy. And not just when Pink Hitler is in charge."

"Not just then," Bo agreed. "But I like this crazy a hell of a lot better than that one."

"I haven't been here long but I'd give that a resounding yes," Miriam said. She raised her glass to Bo. "Here's to being able to enjoy sex, booze, and rock and roll."

Bo raised an imaginary one in return. "Just not in front of me. Except the rock and roll; there's no age limit on that one."

There was no age limit on the sex either; Bo would just rather not live in a world where it had to be her business.

"You a cop or something?" Miriam asked. She didn't know what Bo's other job was.

"I'm the school security officer. Though for the record I give absolutely no craps if you want to have an orgy in the dorms."

WHY, MOUTH? WHY, BRAIN?

"...I just don't want to be there for it."

Miriam smirked. "Good to know," she said. "I was planning on throwing one to traumatize my roommate."

Poor Stannis.

"...I mildly give a crap about nonconsensual orgying. At least leave a ~~dildo cozy~~ sock on the doorknob, or whatever it is kids these days do."

Or whatever it was kids in her day did outside of John Hughes movies, since Bo hadn't stayed in her old life long enough to graduate high school, let alone get to the state college dorms.

Miriam held up a gloved hand. "Hey, I wasn't going to make him participate," she said. "Though getting laid would probably do wonders for him."

"That's probably true for a lot of people." Just not with her. "But maybe you want to try setting him up on a date or something. Unexpected orgies lack subtlety."

For her part, Cara was not wearing black leather, when she came into the bar.

"This this mean I owe you a drink?" she asked, after glancing at the sign.

Look, the last time she'd felt anything resembling a need to apologise to someone for killing them, the circumstances had been very different.

"Um. I don't know?"

Hey, Bo? Now you know how Jack felt this week. Only slightly more awkward because he hadn't been asking for it.

"Pretty sure I owe you a medal or something, and that would pay for at least three or four drinks, so you still come out ahead."

"I only did what was necessary." Don't thank Cara for killing you, it'll mess up her head more.

"Would these be real drinks?" Some people came from worlds without legal drinking ages or fake ale.

"Not unless you're at least a couple years older than you look," Bo answered, for once apologetically instead of with a roll of her eyes ~~at Kenzi~~. "The--" Yeah, she was not going to call him The Boss, maybe not ever again; it left too nasty a taste in her mouth. "Eric's got this thing about actually following the local liquor laws."

As it happened, Cara was, but she'd spent so long not talking about it that it didn't seem worth it to argue the point just for a drink.

"The local laws are stupid," she said instead. "I'm more than old enough to drink back home." Which would be true even if she was only her physical age.

"England?" Bo guessed, thereby pissing off natives of three continents and two dimensions all in one blow. "The drinking age is lower in Canada too; I'm not saying it makes any sense. Just that the owner doesn't want to lose his liquor license."

Cara didn't know whether that was better or worse than being accused of being Australian. "D'Hara," she corrected. "If Caritas hasn't got in trouble by now, I doubt here will either. Especially now that things are back to normal."

"I'm guessing that fits in the Not From Around Here category; we've got a lot of those." Bo hesitated for a moment, then said, "I kind of agree? Not enough to lose my job, but enough to buy you a drink at Caritas sometime to make up for it..."

"I may take you up on that," Cara replied. "So long as the ale isn't non-alcoholic." She still couldn't believe that was a thing.

"That, I could serve you here, but it tastes like crap." Spoken like someone who'd downed enough of them while trying to blend in, yet not lose control.

"I would imagine so." Cara had drunk some terrible ale in her time, but at least none of it had been adulterated like that.

"Meanwhile, can I interest you in some beverage that doesn't try to pretend it's alcohol when it isn't?"

"Water, please." She'd never managed to develop a taste for fizzy drinks.

"The adventurous type, huh?" Bo fetched up a glass and some ice. "I'm not sure I've ever seen anybody drink the water around here."

"I like a clear head," Cara said, shrugging. "If I'm going to be adventurous with my mouth, it doesn't involve what I'm drinking." Let Bo take that as she will.

"I meant--" Sadly for Bo ever managing to express what she'd meant (which was that drinking the water in Fandom probably was the adventurous option, considering how likely it was that the gremlins used it for spitting contests or something) Bo had very clear and very recent memories giving her very bad advice on exactly how to take that. "Good to, uh. I'll keep that in mind?"

Smooth, DennisJonesMcGillicuddy. Smooooooth.

"You do that." Cara smirked, because there were some buttons she couldn't resist pushing, despite having... whatever it was she was fumbling her way into with Surreal.

Plus it was probably better for both her and Bo if they focused on the first half of those recent memories.

Where there were no rulers to be found; if you decided not to leave at least 4 inches between you and your partner for the Holy Ghost to slip in, it was your own damn business.

Though admittedly your bartender was a succubus who could absorb ambient libido from the atmosphere so it was a little bit her business too, sorry.

Where this week, Tiny did not have his giant but oddly delicate boots propped up on the owner's table.

Be prepared! That's the Boy Scout's marching song,
Be prepared! As through life you march along.
Be prepared to hold your liquor pretty well,
Don't write naughty words on walls if you can't spell.

Be prepared! To hide that pack of cigarettes,
Don't make book if you cannot cover bets.
Keep those reefers hidden where you're sure
That they will not be found
And be careful not to smoke them
When the scoutmaster's around
For he only will insist that it be shared.
Be prepared!

Be prepared! That's the Boy Scouts' solemn creed,
Be prepared! And be clean in word and deed.
Don't solicit for your sister, that's not nice,
Unless you get a good percentage of her price.

Be prepared! And be careful not to do
Your good deeds when there's no one watching you.
If you're looking for adventure of a new and different kind,
And you come across a Girl Scout who is similarly inclined,
Don't be nervous, don't be flustered, don't be scared.
Be prepared!

...I just tried to read that in the tune of this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0AiN8vrn9Y). It didn't work, sadly.

It works much better to the tune of this!

...But my way has hyenas.

My way mocks the Boy Scouts of America!

And also talks about whoring out your sister.

Mind you the clearly most awesome solution would be a Lion King vid set to Lehrer's version.

OH GOD DON'T TELL ME THAT, I JUST MADE A RIDICULOUS FANVID FOR

onepunchguy AND

liarallmyown LIKE TWO DAYS AGO.

...DAMN IT, WINDOWS MOVIE MAKER, WE MEET AGAIN.

That's exactly what I kept thinking of too!

And why I'm singing songs from the Lion King around my apartment.

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The Devil's Nest: Saturday, August 4

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