The Devil's Nest, Thursday Night

[texted3times]

Eric was behind the bar tonight, even if Tiny was doing all of the serving (as usual).

The sign on the door read: "NO WEIRD JELLO SHOTS, WE PROMISE."

The vampire was in. The Devil might be, too.

Comments

[my_own_advocate]

"Are we turning 'sophomoric stabs at Summer' into one of our things now?" the Devil asked him, leaning against the bar.

[texted3times]

"No, I'm merely reiterating that we serve grown-up drinks here," Eric said. "And not whatever Kitty accidentally ordered on Tuesday, either."

[my_own_advocate]

"Has anyone ever told you you seem to suffer from crippling bar insecurity?" Lucifer asked.

[texted3times]

"Not once," Eric said with a little smirk.

[my_own_advocate]

"You don't have to overcompensate," Lucifer said, ignoring him. "It's acceptably sized." The bar, obviously.

[texted3times]

Eric's smirk widened. "High praise indeed."

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer rolled his eyes.

"Besides, clearly the proper response is to make your own jello shots," he said. "What would vikings put in jello anyway?"

[texted3times]

"Aquavit and an axe?" Eric offered.

[my_own_advocate]

"What is it with the axes?" Lucifer returned.

[texted3times]

"Well, the broadsword is a little old-fashioned," Eric said. He shrugged. "I don't mind a bit of violence."

[my_own_advocate]

"Oh, I hardly have any problem with violence. I used to have a demon hanging around my club who liked her knives," Lucifer said, rolling his eyes. "But axes are a bit retro."

[texted3times]

Eric bared his teeth, fangs flicking into place. "I generally don't need anything other than these, of course, but an axe feels good in my hands. I don't mind a little retro. Knives are a little too close to a stake for my comfort."

[my_own_advocate]

"Bit late to get queasy about phallic imagery," Lucifer said.

[texted3times]

"I don't care about how it looks like a penis," Eric said. "I care about how dead it would make me."

[my_own_advocate]

"Aren't stakes supposed to be wooden?" Lucifer said.

[texted3times]

"When vampires are ceremonially executed, it's with a silver-tipped stake," Eric said. "Wooden ones work too, of course, but as sheriff, other vampires have to ask for permission to kill me off."

He smiled. "Right now, they won't get it."

[my_own_advocate]

"Yes, thank you for bragging about your ability to suck up to your superiors," Lucifer said.

[texted3times]

"Sophie-Anne is out of her damn mind," Eric said. "It takes skill to stay on her good side."

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer eyed him.

"You're tempting me with a good story," he said finally, "Succesfully. Continue."

[texted3times]

"Sophie-Anne Leclerq is the vampire Queen of Louisiana," Eric said. "We vampires love our hierarchy--it stops us from killing all the new, annoying ones immediately, but politics of alliances and rivalries can stretch out for centuries." He shrugged. "Sheriff is high enough for me, for the moment. Sophie-Anne is more...tolerant of humans than most vampires. She takes some as lovers instead of just as snacks. But her mind is difficult to follow and more than a few have died for guessing she wanted something she didn't."

[my_own_advocate]

"So basically no gifts, is what you're saying."

[texted3times]

"Well, you can't go wrong giving her lotto scratch-offs, strangely enough," Eric said, "but don't try for anything larger. And definitely don't think you can dodge one of her requests. Because she's not asking."

[my_own_advocate]

"All of this seems rather basic," Lucifer said. "How on Earth did anyone screw that up?"

[texted3times]

"You may have noticed that vampires are slightly arrogant."

Sliiiiiiightly.

"And there are vampires who think they can play the Queen of Louisiana off of the King of Texas and not die screaming."

[my_own_advocate]

"Do any of them have any level of interest in self-preservation?" Lucifer asked dryly.

[texted3times]

"I do," Eric said. "It seems to be rare."

[my_own_advocate]

"They don't really pick the smartest humans to become vampires, do they?"

[texted3times]

"Well, I do, but I'm fairly picky," Eric said.

[1000yearstoolate]

Was someone trying to insult Summer? Seivarden didn't keep track on who was working in Devil's Nest during the nights she wasn't there, but that sign was a perfect excuse to have a drink to cure her hangover from yesterday.

"You're having something against jello shots?" she asked, leaning against the bar.

[texted3times]

"They're vile and tacky," Eric said, "and it's not Spring Break."

He was from Louisiana, home of Mardi Gras, terrible life choices and soooooo many shots.

[1000yearstoolate]

"I won't question tacky," Seivarden said. "And popular by college students, I hear. Are you trying to scare away your younger customers?"

She was defending you, Summer.

"Oh, and I'll have a whisky."

[texted3times]

"I am definitely trying to scare away younger customers," Eric said. "I'm a thousand years old. What am I going to talk to a teenager about?"

[1000yearstoolate]

Seivarden shrugged. "They're still customers, aren't they?"

Adding, with a gesture of her hand: "Never mind. What about that whisky? And I didn't think you were the sociable type anyway."

[texted3times]

"According to the laws of this country, they are only customers who are allowed to drink soda and other non-alcoholic items, which nets me very little profit," Eric said with a shrug, waving Tiny over with her whisky. "So they can go to Caritas, which can handle the fines if they ever get caught serving something harder. As an undead-non American, I don't need that potential legal headache."

[1000yearstoolate]

"Oh, yes, the laws here."

Seivarden shrugged.

"I, on the other hand, is old enough for a whisky."

It was the third time she mentioned that whisky.

[texted3times]

Eric might have been having Tiny go slowly on drink delivery just because of how eager she seemed for it.

"Neat or on the rocks?" he asked.

Tiny already knew, of course.

[1000yearstoolate]

Seivarden gave Tiny a look.

"Neat."

She smiled at Eric. "So, things are a bit slow tonight."

You know, the service.

[texted3times]

"I don't mind slow," Eric said. "If I wanted busy, I'd open a bar in New Orleans."

But there were all of those tourists. Ugh. People.

[1000yearstoolate]

"Doesn't slow mean bad for business, though?" Seivarden said. "It's actually not as slow during Lucifer's nights."

At least not the service.

[texted3times]

"Well, I don't have his sort of groupies," Eric said as Tiny gave Seivarden her whisky, neat.

[1000yearstoolate]

"Oh? Why not?" Seivarden said, taking a sip. "Maybe you should be more sociable."

[texted3times]

"I don't want groupies," Eric said, wrinkling his nose up.

[1000yearstoolate]

"You seem surprisingly unsociable for a bar owner," Seivarden said, then held up her hand. "That's not meant as a judgement."

It was. It was also a comment deliberately meant to annoy.

[texted3times]

"I don't generally spend much time with humans," Eric said. "That's why I hired Tiny."

[1000yearstoolate]

"Do you spend time with anyone?" Seivarden asked, raising an eyebrow.

[texted3times]

"Those I find worth my time, yes," Eric replied.

[1000yearstoolate]

"So you're discerning," Seivarden said, lips curving.

[texted3times]

"I like to think so," Eric said.

[1000yearstoolate]

"Nothing wrong with that," Seivarden said. "There are plenty of non-humans on the island after all."

A few. Maybe. Seivarden didn't keep track.