The Devil's Nest, Wednesday Evening

[justlurkinghere]

It was only week two of employment and Derek was already engaged in a game of psychological warfare with the club's DJ. So maybe the man was just too dim to function and engaging in some poor life choices in regards to the new guy. But still.

No one needed to play dub step that much when there wasn't even a fight going on.

Which would be why one might find Derek at the bar. Aggressively cleaning things.

Comments

The Door

[justlurkinghere]

Are you 21?

The Bar

[justlurkinghere]

Clean all that aggression away, Derek. Like a boss.

Re: The Bar

[locointhecoco]

Pinkie Pie had been going about her usual cheerful business of trotting through town greeting the NPC townspeople she passed when her tail started twitching. She dove through the nearest door to avoid whatever was about to fall (a flower pot) and found herself in the bar.

Oh look! A grumpy new person! That would not do at all.

"Hi there!" Pinkie greeted with massive heaps of enthusiasm. "I don't think I've ever met you before! I'm Pinkie Pie, what's your name?"

[ooc: I apologize in advance for Pinkie. But it had to happen.]

Re: The Bar

[justlurkinghere]

Derek paused mid-angry wipe of a glass. Paused and then stared at the talking, pink pony. In the bar.

Okay, who was spiking the water with freaky wolfsbane flowers? Uncool, guys.

Re: The Bar

[locointhecoco]

Pinkie stuck out her hoof for a shake, grin unwavering, even as the light reflection in her eyes wobbled with the intensity of her stare which increased exponentially with every moment sans return introduction.

Re: The Bar

[justlurkinghere]

Derek was just going to... not back away. Because it was a hallucination. That was the only plausible explanation.

FROM THE WEREWOLF.

He frowned even more at her, though. That was sure to help.

Re: The Bar

[locointhecoco]

Wait, he frowned harder?

THAT WAS NOT HOW THIS WAS MEANT TO GO AT ALL.

Pinkie's own grin grew even larger, as if all he required were a good demonstration of how smiling was done. (Just wait, she'd eventually progress to trying to force him to smile with her hooves. . . .)

"Ooo," she said at last, when not even cartoon physics could make her grin go any wider. "Do you want me to guess your name?"

Re: The Bar

[justlurkinghere]

"No." Well, now he was answering the hallucination. What had gone so wrong with his life that he was doing this? OH RIGHT. EVERYTHING.

Re: The Bar

[shestheworst.livejournal.com]

Britta was just off the plane from Amsterdam. She didn't want to leave Amsterdam, but she was sort of forced to leave Amsterdam. Ugh. The Dutch were such fascists!

Either way, she thought it was a pretty good idea to stave off the inevitable jet lag right off the bat, and a week in a different country doing all sorts of things she wasn't allowed to do in the States (but still did pretty often regardless) had her feeling more like a rebel, and therefor, Caritas would just not do.

The dark and broodingly handsome stranger behind the bar was certainly making up for the whole debacle at the door about her fake ID, too.

"So," she said, leaning on the bar as she took a seat and took a casual look around before settling her gaze on Dark and Broodingly Handsome Behind the Bar; she lifted her X-marked hand, "I guess you guys mark Xs on all the awesome people around here now?"

It was worth a try. If her ID couldn't get her drinks, maybe her charm could. She was going to stand by that ID being valid, thank you very much.

Re: The Bar

[justlurkinghere]

Picked the wrong person to try charming, Britta. Picked the wrong person.

Derek just gave her a flat look, shaking his head. Because he didn't have an X on his awesome, awesome hand, Britta. See? See? "Water or soda."

Re: The Bar

[shestheworst.livejournal.com]

"What, you mean, with, like, my rum?" Britta asked, innocently, because she was so totally 21, obviously. She batted her eyelashes a little, with her best smile. "Soda's fine, though I usually go for a martini."

Re: The Bar

[justlurkinghere]

Oh, look at that. A soda without aaaaany rum in it.

"Good to know," he said in that way that implied he didn't care. And that he would have preferred to have spent the rest of his life not knowing it either.

It was a very aggressive apathy.

Re: The Bar

[shestheworst.livejournal.com]

It just so happened that Britta's obliviousness to most things was fairly aggressive, too. Passive aggressive.

And since she was clearly over 21 and there was no reason why there wouldn't be any rum in the drink, Britta was going to go about things as if there were, even if she could definitely tell it was just a soda. Why wouldn't there be rum to the best of her knowledge, though? She was 21. Twenty-eight, actually, if you went by the ID.

"Thanks," she said, sipping the drink with the relish of a regular alcoholic. "You know, I don't usually come into the bars here on the island very often, but I'm thinking I've been missing out."

They should, like, send out Hot Bartender memos or something.

Re: The Bar

[bitten_notshy]

Jack was a bit self-conscious about coming back to the bar with Derek there, considering the way his last Wednesday evening out had ended. But he wasn't too selfconscious to stop him from doing it.

"Hi," he said, edging up to the bar. "What's this" -- noise -- "music?"

Re: The Bar

[justlurkinghere]

Derek was just going to give him a look. But that might have been his normal look.

Or the look he gave someone who wasn't a pink pony or attempting to nail him.

Britta.

"The DJ's deathwish."

Re: The Bar

[bitten_notshy]

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Did you try to make a request?"

It was rarely a good idea.

Re: The Bar

[justlurkinghere]

"As long as it's not Duran Duran." No, Derek. It would be Florence + The Machine. Because who didn't want to listen to a disco remix of Howl?

Re: The Bar

[bitten_notshy]

Jack shrugged, gave a tiny smile. "Wouldn't know the difference."

Sorry. Eighties music hadn't been something he concerned himself with when he was trying to adjust to this millennium.

The Lounge/Dancefloor

[justlurkinghere]

Oh god, all that dub step.

Re: The Lounge/Dancefloor

[shestheworst.livejournal.com]

Oh, dear Lord, the music (http://fandomtownies.livejournal.com/6539055.html?thread=248201263#t248201263) started up, thanks to Miss Pie, and Britta, fresh from Europe, was in a mood that couldn't refuse it.

"Yeah!" she cried out in approval, finding some glowsticks somehow and hitting the dance floor in a way that made her feel like she never even left the diskotek...except for the noticeable lack of European hotties all up in her grill.

That was okay, though. She could do her sexy moves complete with sexy faces toward her dark and brooding bartender. And maybe the blonde guy he was talking to, too.

Neither the dance nor the faces were nearly as sexy as she thought.

That was not stopping Britta Perry, though.

Ever.

Re: The Lounge/Dancefloor

[locointhecoco]

Never one to let anypony dance the night away alone, Pinkie was soon enough joining Britta on the dance floor.

"Hi!" she called over the music. "I'm Pinkie Pie! That nice bartender Derek suggested I come say hi! He must really like you!"

She meant that in the most innocent way, of course. After all, Derek had told her to come make friends with Britta. That had to mean he cared.

The VIP Area

[justlurkinghere]

Still gross. I'm just saying...

OOC

[justlurkinghere]

Because I will forget otherwise.

Re: OOC

[throughaphase]

Oh my god, Pinkie and Derek might be the best thing I've read in my life.

Re: OOC

[justlurkinghere]

BESTIES FOR LIFE!