fandomtownies | The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Evening.

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The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Evening.

The music was... normal? Regular, popular music? There were no gremlins, no strangeness, and Tiny was keeping his own brand of weirdness to a minimum?

Emma was suspecting a pod person replaced the DJ, but until then, she'd let Tiny keep serving drinks while she did her hostessing gig, occasionally taking a break to take a spin on the dance floor.

The Devil's Nest is open, and the telepath is carding.

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Get your drink on!

Nikolai... didn't have his ID. His ID was still in his wallet, and his wallet, so far as he was aware, was somewhere in the BWI, presumably being picked apart by airport security for something to use against him. He had no damn clue, at this point.

He did, however, have a pair of mirrored shades and some spending money, thanks to the shift he put in on the weekend at the Arms, and after the sort of week he'd had, Nikolai was in need of a fucking drink.

"I don't suppose you have something stiff and cheap?"

"I have both, although the cheaper you get the worse it tastes," Emma answered, leaning back to look him over. Not bad. "So long as you're over twenty-one years old."

It was Fandom, what with time-travel and clones and such, even if he looked old enough, she had to check. "Got an ID?"

"I'll be twenty-seven in less than a month," Nick sighed, shaking his head. "My wallet's in an airport somewhere and I've been running on the good graces of my new, if temporary, employer since tripping over this crazy island. But if it's an issue, I suppose I'll make do with a Coke."

He didn't have to like it, but he at least respected that he was being carded, here. The lovely young woman at the counter could hardly be blamed for doing her job.

The nice part about being a telepath - and unscrupulous - is that you know when someone is telling the truth.

So Emma reached for a glass. And if she looked at Tiny expectantly until he filled it about 2/3rds the way full of vodka in there first before she topped it off with cola, well, technically she wasn't supposed to pour the alcohol.

"There. Best of both worlds."

"And you," Nick said, pointing at Emma with one hand while reaching for the drink with the other, "are now my favorite person on this island. I've been dying for something like this for days, now."

Greece had not treated him well, no. He pulled out a small wad of change from his pocket - some kind of misguided optimism had him still hoping that he'd see his wallet again - and counted out money for the drink, along with a tip to go with it.

Emma took the tip but waved the rest away. "If you're a new recruit, you're going to need more vodka than that," she said dryly. "Welcome to the madhouse, the first one is on me."

"Thanks, but if this is the madhouse, it leaves something to be desired compared to the gong show that sent me here," Nick snorted, giving her a wry smile as he pocketed the rest of the money again. "Guy at the end of that land bridge when I showed up here said something about kidnapping and dungeons, but I grew up in Hollywood. I don't spook that easily."

It sounded like any one of a dozen sets he'd wandered across over the course of the past few years.

"Who did you get?" she asked out of idle curiosity. "And if you're not sure you believe them... you can go bother Kitty over at the other bar tonight. Her band is to die for."

Emma thought she was funny.

"You know, I don't think I caught the guy's name? Definitely didn't get a good look at his face. He's got a decent handshake, though."

Yeah, that was a great identifier.

"There's something up with the band at the other bar?" Get Nikolai too curious, and he was going to have to make an effort to go and investigate. Maybe after this drink. Or tomorrow, or something. "Well, now you have me wondering."

"I'm from New York and even I admit this place is weird as shit, darling," Emma said bluntly. "Think of something, anything, most random thing that pops into your head."

Emma, stop screwing with the fresh meat. It isn't nice.

Nick neglected to say the first few things that leapt to mind. He was pretty sure the lady behind the bar wasn't looking for answers like 'Paris Hilton's cleavage,' here.

"Superheroes," he settled on. "All-out full-blown people with powers. A super-strong bulletproof guy that flies and breathes fire."

If she was looking for weird, sure, he'd mention the guy back in L.A. who had started to make headlines a while back.

"One, Paris Hilton has no cleavage. Two--" Emma held up her arm and let the change overtake her, going from the tips of her fingers all the way over her body to the ends of her hair. "--Darling, you have no idea."

"Ah..."

Well, he couldn't say he'd seen stranger. Not in person, not without the aid of some fancy special effects artists and some artistic lighting. But he managed to more or less take... whatever it was he was looking at, a woman made of diamond, surprisingly in stride. He did blink a few times behind his shades, but the most he was going to let show otherwise was a slight raise of his eyebrows.

"Those are quite the party tricks you've got there," he noted, giving her a thoughtful once-over. "I'd ask if I'm really that transparent, but it looks like you've got that covered already."

"I'm a multifaceted woman," Emma deadpanned, turning her hand over to send little rainbows skittering around the bar. "Almost everyone is transparent to me."

She rippled back to flesh to get herself a cola. "And here's where I ask if you're wearing the shades because you're a mutant or a supernatural and trying to pass, or just because you're from Hollywood and think it's the hip thing to do?"

"I..." Nikolai watched her shift back, watch diamond give way into flesh again, and quietly marveled at it. Whatever the hell that old crone had done to him last week, it had nothing on that. "Would you believe me if I said I had no damn clue?"

Because he didn't, really. And considering the demonstration she'd just put on for him, Nick wasn't too hesitant to say as much.

"Until I know what's going on, the story is going to be 'sensitive eyes,' though. I've already been chased across one major American city, I'm not exactly dying for a repeat experience."

"Another one for the 'hated/hunted/feared' club, then," Emma quipped, taking a drink. "Well, welcome to the Isle of Misfit Toys, although now that I've said that it's going to start raining creepy dolls again or something."

"But fear not, darling, no one is going to chase you for 'sensitive eyes.' Other reasons, maybe, but not that one."

Nick considered that, gave her a thoughtful tilt of his head and everything. He was going to file away the 'creepy dolls again' line for later, bring it up again in a few. For now...

"So long as the shades stay on, there shouldn't be any 'other reasons' for people to get terribly interested," he replied. "Or at least that's the hope. Once I get back home, that'll be a different story."

Things would get tricky when there were people around. Not just the occasional passer-by. People. Rush-hour traffic on a Friday afternoon right before a long weekend, people.

Groove it baby!

Where the vampire rules ~~if he's in~~.

I keep thinking today is Weds.

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The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Evening.

The Bar

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The Lounge & Dance Floor

VIP Area

OOC