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The Devil's Nest, Wednesday Evening

It was two days until the full moon, which meant everyone's favorite bartender was more on edge than normal. Which would possibly be why Derek was shooting the DJ murderous looks over his choice of all ABBA remixes, all night long.

But that could just be Derek's good taste at play rather than anything particularly supernatural.

Seriously, man. ABBA.

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Where no one was a dancing queen.

Still high on the joy of helping her students discover the joys of teamwork and harmony even in the realm of multinational politics, Pinkie trotted on over to the bar just as soon as she figured it'd be open to see if her new friend Derek was working there again this week.

"Hihihihi, Derek!" she called when she saw that, yes, yes he totally was. "Wow, you guys have the best music in here!"

DAMN YOUR TASTE, PINKIE PIE!

Derek responded with a surly little sigh, fully resolved to ignoring the pony until she went away. Because that would totally work.

Bitch, please.

"Didja get my care package last week? I had loads of fun putting it all together for you!"

"I was covered with glitter."

Glitter was the STD of arts and crafts, Pinkie.

If "STD" stood for "Spreads the Delight", you mean!

"I know!" Pinkie was clearly delighted with this prospect. "Isn't that fun?"

"Not in the slightest," he ground out. He was still washing it out of his perfectly spiked hair. And clothes. And... Everything.

Edited 2012-08-29 21:35 (UTC)

Contrary to popular belief, Pinkie Pie wasn't actually completely oblivious. Her smile faded in size slightly.

". . . Super fun?"

"There is glitter in my hair," he reiterated. Because it was necessary.

Pinkie Pie's lower lip wobbled in time with the light reflections in her enormous eyes. He didn't like it?!

"It's . . . the gift that keeps on giving?"

STD OF ARTS AND CRAFTS.

Derek just glowered at her. Because he didn't need any silly emotions other than rage, annoyance, the occasional crippling guilt, and self doubt. He was a totally healthy guy.

Pinkie wibbled harder. Her eyes actually seemed to double in size.

What. No. How was that even possible? THAT WAS PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE, PINKIE PIE.

Because the talking pink pony with spaghetti limbs was totally concerned about your puny Earth physical limitations.

Case in point: the perfect streaming arcs of water now pouring from her eyes.

That's right, you just made her cry. GOD DEREK.

SHUT UP YOUR LOGIC.

"Stop it." Oh god, why was this happening to him? Why?! "Stop."

Pinkie paused in her tears long enough to sniffle at him. "I *hic* just *hic* wanted *hic* to *hic* make *hic* you *hic* HAPPY!"

LOOK AT YOUR LIFE, DEREK. LOOK AT YOUR CHOICES.

NO. YOU CAN'T MAKE HIM. YOU'RE NOT HIS ALPHA, SO NYAH.

"I'm fine," Derek snapped helpfully. "Just leave me alone."

WITH HIS EMO.

Pinkie pouted at him. "Everypony needs friends."

You know, Derek: friiiiiiieeeeeeeends.

"I'm not a pony," he felt the need to point out.

Don't be a pedant.

"I'm pretty sure humans need friends too."

HE WOULD BE WHATEVER HE WANTED.

"I don't." He just needed a hug. And for people to be his betas. DAMN IT, SCOTT. DAMN IT.

Ever see a horse give you a "wow, you're a terrible liar" look before, Derek? Because Pinkie was totally giving you that look right now.

"Do tooooooooooooooooo."

He was an amazing liar. To himself.

Deal with it.

"Do not." Wait, was he doing this? He was totally doing this, wasn't he?

He really, really was.

"Do too," Pinkie said firmly.

Derek stopped and just glared. Because he wasn't getting into this argument.

"Do not."

Except how he was.

That was the spirit, Derek! Maybe he just needed a good argument to cheer him up.

"Do too!"

"Eric needs a friend," Derek tried, signing his own death warrant.

"Don't worry," Pinkie said. "I can be his friend too."

Pinkie had infinite stores of friendship.

Derek just gave her a dubious look in response. Because he will throw anyone under the bus to dodge this bullet of friendship.

Pinkie smiled back and batted her eyelashes.

Did those eyelashes make noise?

"Befriend him first."

Well, yeah. It was like how sharp things made noise when you held them up to catch the light.

"But I'm already talking to you."

Damn this place. Damn it to hell.

Derek gave her a look that strongly implied he was more than willing to correct that.

Don't make her cry again Derek. Not until you know if you have flood insurance, at least.

"Sooooooooooo what do you like instead of glitter, then?"

"Peace and quiet." And people not trying to kill him.

". . . And parties?"

Did he say parties? Did he?

"No parties."

Maybe that meant 'no parties that aren't surprise parties'.

Well, who didn't love a surprise party? Really now.

"How about bunnies? Bunnies are quiet!"

Where no one was 17. Maybe.

Where ABBA fans may lurk.

Maybe the reason no one liked you was because you didn't embrace your inner dancing queen, Derek.

Just a suggestion.

Eric was enjoying the music just fine.

Feel the force of his glare, Eric. Feel it.

"If you want me to dance with you, sweetie, you have to ask first," Eric replied.

"Not in this lifetime." The music of your people sucked, Eric. Sorry about that.

"Your loss," Eric said with a little shrug.

My brain hurts, yo.

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The Devil's Nest, Wednesday Evening

The Bar

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The Lounge/Dancefloor

The VIP area

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OOC