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The Devil's Nest: Saturday, August 11

The fact that Tiny was nowhere to be found tonight only bothered Bo until the woman in the sleeveless leather tank-top whose arms made Tiny's look like spaghetti noodles showed up from the back and introduced herself as Tiny's older sister, Bitsy, and no, it wasn't one of Those Weekends, and yes, she knew all about Those Weekends, and after all, Bo had seen what Tiny looked like as a chick, and it wasn't this.

After that, Bo was too busy being bothered by the unfairness of Bitsy getting kicked out of the WNBA for being too tall, and the fact that she kind of wanted to climb Tiny's sister like a tree.

...A tree at the top of Mount Everest.

[OOC: Your face.]

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Where your bartender is only a little bitsy.... BIT distracted.

Princess Leotarda Serena Fel knew that Sia would probably be disappointed in her, but she had to get out for a while. She just had to dance! She had to be responsible all the time, and sometimes you just had to let it all go, especially when you were a wild party girl at heart!

So sneaking out of ~~omg she was such a rebel~~ in her ~~sluttiest~~ hottest dress, she headed to the bar ~~that didn't already have a Megan Fox~~ and said, "I'll have an entire bottle of your most expensive vodka."

Okay, Bo was very good at being distracted by the hotness (and sadly, probably by The Hotness, if he ever showed up to visit Electroclash), but still...

"Aren't you a little way underage for that?"

"I've been allowed to drink since I was thirteen," replied Leo, flipping her long shiny ~~not-blonde~~ black hair over her shoulder. "All princesses can."

Especially when they were speshul.

SOUNDS LEGIT.

...Wait, for some reason, actually...

"Well, that sounds legit. Princesses are ~~speshul~~ special. You probably have some kind of diplomatic immunity from drinking laws, right?"

Now to figure out which one actually was the most expensive vodka. Oh, right, that one Tony Stark had ordered the weekend he was a pathetic, weeping drunk.

"Of course!" Leo said. "I can pretty much do anything and it's not illegal."

Again, because she was speshul.

Sia couldn't, by the way. It was all that jealousy and not smiling, it didn't earn her any favors.

"Anything?"

BO DO NOT FLIRT WITH THE UNDERAGE PRINCESS.

Maybe she should just get that bottle of vodka and focus on climbing Mount Everest.

"Anything," Leo nodded. "You'd be amazed."

Somewhere Sia was pounding her head into a wall and didn't know why. And then deciding as long as she wasn't having to put up with this, she didn't care.

"Being a princess would've made my life so much easier. The parking tickets alone..."

Somewhere Bo's mother, who actually was one -- which kind of actually made Bo one, if you squinted -- was laughing hysterically and also pounding her head against a wall.

Then again, that could just be because Bo's mother was batshit crazy.

"I drive a Maserati at top speeds and no one ever stops me," Leo ~~bragged~~ stated. It was so much responsibility!

And yeah, a Maserati. In a place where everyone's cars flew.

"Hopefully not on the way home tonight," said Bo, handing over the bottle. Drinking and driving was bad even for princesses, mm'kay?

"Oh, it's fine," Leo said, taking the bottle and just taking a swig from it, because she was a hardcore princess like that. "I can't get drunk. It's my metabolism."

You know, that princess metabolism.

"You're not making the princess life sound any worse, here. Is there a recruiting office where I can sign up?"

"You have to be born into it, or marry royal," Leo said, and suddenly looked very prettily sad. "It's a very big responsibility, like a weight is on my shoulders constantly."

Sia hated you, Leo. She hated you so damn much.

"Like what responsibilities?" Because this was faaaascinating. And Bo was going to hate herself on Monday. So. Much. "Besides drinking and driving Maseratis, I mean?"

"I'm going to have to lead a whole Empire," she ~~whined~~ ~~complained~~ said like a strong female individual really. "So many lives are in my hands! And becoming an Imperial Knight at the age of ten because you killed a Sith with your bare hands isn't any real preparation for that. Also, I'll never find real love."

"Well, that's depressing. Why would you think that? You're gorgeous! Unless you, like... kill people when you sleep with them?" No reason for guessing that. Really. "....Hopefully not at ten."

"Oh, no!" Only if they needed killing, of course. Because she was totally badass enough to infiltrate bad guy operations and take them out, but not before getting some sweet, sweet princess lovin'. "But I'll never know who really loves me and who just wants me for my title. Also I think I'm ugly."

Of course she did.

"....Sweetie, you look like Megan Fox." Someone had to say it.

Granted, Bo's standards of attractiveness were...wide-ranging?

Okay. Let's just face it: if Bo did not know by tomorrow morning whether her ancient Minoan bathtub was big enough for two even when one of those two had been kicked out of the WNBA for being too tall, it wouldn't be because she hadn't tried.

Where in between carrying multiple cases of beer and kicking out gremlins by glaring at them, you could also find Bitsy getting her bad self down to Brick House.

Where there are probably vampires of some sort, unless there aren't.

"Go away," Eric commanded the woman who was wearing a dress cut up to there and down to there. "I don't know you."

Morrigyyn's answering laugh was dulcet and perfectly tuneful. "Of course you do, silly! Who could ever forget the nights we spent together in Paris?"

Because all romantic things happened in Paris. Everyone knew that.

Eric stared at her blankly. "I have had a lot of sex in Paris, but I don't remember you--"

Morrigyyyn stared intently into his eyes. "Of course you do, darling."

Eric shook his head, then gazed back. "Morrigyn!" he said, reaching out and kissing her intently.

Eric was going to hate himself on Monday.

Oliver Winery now makes Blueberry Beanblossom Cider. o.O

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The Devil's Nest: Saturday, August 11

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