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The Devil's Nest [Friday night]

It was cold, dark, and threatening to snow, which was Eric's favorite kind of weather, which was why he was in an excellent mood as he wandered down to the Devil's Nest to make sure Tiny was manning the bar to his satisfaction.

The new DJ (it was always a new DJ) looked panicked as Eric came in, stammering something about equipment malfunctions and how very sorry he was before fleeing into the night, leaving the bar listening to "If You Like Piña Coladas" --and only that song--at a volume that was just too loud to be ignorable.

"If you make piña coladas a special tonight, I will snap your neck," Eric told Tiny flatly before disappearing to his normal seat in the VIP area.

The Devil's Nest was open. And verrrrry tired of walks in the rain already.

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"I'm fairly fucking sure there's a galactic law against that piece of shit song," Jack growled at the speaker. If not there should be. She hit 'advance' again.

"It's the final countdooooown.. the final countdowwwn.."

"Nope." Again.

"Blackened is the end
Winter it will send
Throwing all you see
Into obscurity.."

She paused and glanced at Eric, "Is that better or do we want to see what other crap that asshole put on here?"

Definitely killing the DJ.

"I'm definitely killing the DJ."

"I would," Jack responded with a grimace, "Do you have better music on a drive that could be synched or something or is this it?" She winced a little at a guitar part. "There's a goddamn dance floor right there. What the fuck was this fool thinking?"

"My tastes lean towards Swedish death metal, so let's see what Tiny has instead," Eric said, waving the bartender over and demanding his phone.

"Okay, a little heavy on Cher and '90s boy bands, but not terrible," he decided after inspecting Tiny's playlist.

She made a gimme with her hand. "Cher's music is still popular even in my time." Jack gave Tiny a once-over and asked pointedly, "Boy bands? My dude. Follow the lead of too-tall-to-be-real over here. Death metal, motherfucker, you can dig it."

Then she gave Eric a headtilt. "Swedish much different from Norwegian for death metal? And are we talking death metal or deathcore?" There was a difference. One made her want to punch things. The other made her want to..

We're not going there. This is a family show.

"Not terribly different from Norwegian, but I'm from Sweden...more or less...so my allegiance goes there first," Eric said.

And the idea of a vampire with really random musical tastes just amused the heck out of him. When you'd been alive for a few thousand years, you ended up with strange hobbies.

Jack took the phone and began making her Omni synch to it. Bobbed her head in a nod. "Fair enough. I'm from a colonized planet you've never heard of 150 or so years in the future and another reality entirely. Music's not the same there. It's more.. techno tranz? Electronibop? It," she said succinctly, "sucks. I like this era's music. Some of it. The angry stuff."

Because of course she did.

"And the Pina Colada song," Eric added. "Because it's now stuck in your head for the next week."

"Nope," Jack shook her head with a smirk, "One thing I'm real fucking good at is getting annoying shit right out of my head."

Her lips twisted in a small grimace, "Not that 'Blue Da Ba Dee' or whatever its fucking name is happens to be better but at least it's not about some trash bastard who can't ball up enough to talk to his partner about adding some kink to their game, goddamn."

She typed in a command and ported the song list over while absently handing Tiny back his phone. Watched the command line scroll and refresh on her Omni. "Moment of truth.." she warned and hit the button.

"Don't blow up my bar," Eric said. "No one's cashed out their tab yet."

Priorities.

Jack snorted. "It won't blow up. It might play," she checked, "Backstreet Boys? at you all night but that is on your bartender."

Thankfully it was not the Backstreet Boys. Not that Cher's 'Just Like Jesse James' was the highlight of her career.

Tiny immediately started bopping his head to the beat. "I am ashamed to know you," Eric told him.

"Verdict?" Jack asked, "Keep trying or leave it be?"

"Leave it," Eric said. "It's not about a fruity drink."

"Not her best song. Judging you a little here, Tiny, unless you just have her whole fucking catalog on there. In which case, rock right the fuck on my dude. Also? You did not get me the drink I ordered," she said pointedly to the bartender.

Hopping back out of the DJ booth, she looked way up at Eric and deadpanned 'ta da' hands at him. "And I didn't even have to blow it up."

Tiny went away to get Jack her drink. "I'm not going to thank you for not blowing up my place," Eric told her.

"Having that goddamn song off the speakers is thanks enough," Jack assured him. "I can pat my own damn back about finding an appropriate and non-violent solution to a problem."

She was obviously quoting someone right there. "What kind of music do you usually play here? I mean, there's a dance floor."

"A mix that's generally a little closer to Tiny's phone," Eric said. "Sometimes a DJ decides to do theme nights. That generally only lasts the night."

Because Eric killed them.

"How many DJs do you generally go through in a damn month?" Jack asked him curiously. "Whatever service you're hiring from must really fucking suck."

Heh. Suck.

"I go through a few," Eric said, "but I also tell them to send their experimental ones."

The ones who wouldn't be missed immediately. Cough.

Jack squinted at him a little. "You do this to yourself on purpose?"

Little did she know he was using them as dinner delivery.

"I do it to punish Tiny," Eric said, smirking.

"Mean," she said approvingly. She considered Tiny and then considered Eric. "Don't suppose you're hiring?"

"Might be," Eric said. "You looking?"

Jack lifted a shoulder, "I teach on Mondays. That leaves me six other days to be bored and get into trouble. So yeah, I'm looking. I can't mix drinks for shit and I'm not licensed here for that anyway but anything else?" Held her hands out, "Done pretty much all of it before."

She eyed uppppp at the giant Viking, "I'm guessing you don't exactly need a bouncer when you're here."

The Devil's Nest [Friday night]

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