fandomtownies | The Devil's Nest, Saturday, December 14th

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The Devil's Nest, Saturday, December 14th

After the third time she got shot, Bo was completely frakking over this 'storm the gates' idea. So though she'd planned on skipping out, she found herself behind the bar tonight after all, if only to make up for the cash she'd lost today.

The specials board read:

Sick of paying for coming back from the dead? Me too.
One free Corpse Reviver per customer with New-U receipt.

Tiny, meanwhile, was over in the corner near the payphone, having an existential crisis because he accidentally thought about the fact that this was only a digital reconstruction of his original body, which died the first time he respawned.

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Where your bartender was halfway through a Corpse Reviver herself, and wondering if it shouldn't have been one for every time you got respawned.

That would be an exhausted and slightly traumatized Kenzi putting down her receipt, and whimpering, "You can't turn me down when I died."

"I can't sell you liquor," Bo said carefully, pouring two more for herself instead. If one of them happened to disappear, it wouldn't be her fault she got robbed by a future world-renowned catburglar.

Damn right. Bo had to wait on those other customers sometime and all.

"You are a scholar and a succubus," Kenzi told her solemnly, while sipping the drink a little later. "And I am so over this whole-- thing."

"The guns are kind of cool," Bo allowed. "But not the part where their guys have the same ones and armor."

"And some of those crazy people think I'm a meat puppet and yes. Kicking them outta here, that better work." Kenzi took another swig from her definitely-not-alcohol glass, and gulped. "What've you been up to?"

"Trying to fight our way into their excavation site, today." Bo grimaced. "That was a big bust. And not the fun kind in a push-up bra."

"Damn. I got killed playing distraction for nothing?" Kenzi paused. "Although at least that Jack guy's posters are down now... Is there a back-up plan? Maybe?"

"Not that I've heard. No chance to regroup yet by the time I headed over here, and everybody's pretty frazzled." Bo sipped her second drink a lot slower than she had the first. "My guess is we talk to Doctor Rudeyface again tomorrow, see if she has any better ideas, since she knows these guys."

"Mmmph," Kenzi grumped, taking another slurp of her drink. "I'll be there. I guess. But if there's gonna be action, I'm going for long-distance this time. At least for the next couple days." She propped her chin up on her hand. "Didn't the world try to end just before Christmas two years ago?"

"Are you sure you're not mixing that up with Black Friday at the Isle of IKEA?"

Another sip, and the world was beginning to acquire nicely warm and fuzzy edges. "...no?"

"It's like the universe thinks Christmas shopping isn't traumatizing enough already."

"Also, we should have a New Year's party. With fireworks. It's a Russian thing." Sort of. It was a Kenzi thing, anyway. "Because I refuse to believe these jokers will still be hanging around by then, damnit."

"Doesn't the school usually throw one of those? Not that I'm against the idea unless you mean fireworks inside the house, but I'm also a fan of free food."

"Oh, you know I'm there, then," Kenzi readily agreed. "Although there may still be fireworks. That spell out DOOM GO HOME or something."

Bo snorted. "If he weren't still teaching classes, I'd wonder if he already did. I sure haven't seen him and his flashy body armor doing anything to help out this week."

"I am so not voting for him for tyrant. That kind of laziness in a dictator is just unacceptable."

"We're having elections for that now? Cause if so, I nominate Kitty Of A Thousand Names. She'd beat DOOM paws down."

Edited 2013-12-15 04:09 (UTC)

"Oooo. I need to send her after him. And yes! I mean, she could get the most votes just by having the most names on the ballot!"

Cecil plopped down next to Kenzi and gave Bo big puppy-dog eyes. "I'm technically an adult. Or I was a few months ago."

"Nice try," Bo said, though she didn't necessarily disbelieve him. "But you'd still be a student even if you were Methuselah last week. No go. I can make you a virgin, though..."

On reflection, not the best way to phrase that.

Cecil rolled his eyes and giggled. "I haven't been one of those in ages, though. Even if my boyfriend does say I'm too young now." Silly perfect ♥Carlos♥. "I died vandalizing posters of the evil corporation oppressing us all?" he tried.

"Lemme re-phrase: I can make you hot cocoa with white-chocolate and mint syrup. Dying gets you whipped cream, but not brandy."

"Oo, that sounds yummy!" Of course he was really an adult; couldn't you tell? "Okay. Lots of whipped cream?"

She'd lived with Kenzi, slept with John Mitchell, and worked with Deadpool. Bo's ability to define 'really an adult' was pretty screwed at the best of times.

"I think we even have chocolate-flavored whipped cream, if you can stand that much sugar."

"Sure!" Cecil was game. If he couldn't get alcohol, he was going to get as much sugar as humanly possible!

You hadn't necessarily dodged a bullet by giving him stimulants instead of depressants, Bo.

Where there was no DJ to be seen. Or heard. Only the sweet, sweet sound of no one shooting at you.

Where your owner and host was allowed to have all the Corpse Revivers he wanted but didn't need, if he was there to want but not need them.

Edited 2013-12-15 01:33 (UTC)

Where your MP is pretty sure that drink would make her sick, but it sounds yummy.

I think Tiny passed on the existential crisis to my character in my head.

It's amazing how after eight years in this game I can still have firsts.

Once upon a time there was a Doctor Who novel (from the 7th Doctor adventures published during the wasteland of the lost years) wherein Benny, the novels-only companion, spent most of the book having that exact existential crisis, but about transmat booths, which operate basically the same way as a Star Trek transporter.

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The Devil's Nest, Saturday, December 14th

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