Devil's Nest, Thursday Night

[texted3times]

Last week had been an extremely successful evening and while this week seemed...slower and full of incredibly irritating interruptions, Eric had made a promise to some of the people who'd been there last time:

LEATHER PANTS THURSDAY
Half-priced drinks if you're wearing them!

Eric was, of course, wearing his leather pants. It was only fair! (Well, perhaps not fair to everyone else. He looked amazing in leather pants, if he did say so himself.)

[OOC: Meant to do this earlier! Apologies!]

Comments

[chef_chocobro]

Well, Ignis was a man of his word, which was something he took great pride in, so he was absolitely there that evening in his leather pants with the dark purple animal print shirt and the jacket to complete the ensemble.

How fortunate that it just so happened to be one of those rare occasions where he felt he actually needed a drink.

Or five.

He was trying his best to remember that he did have class (and Prompto) to deal with in the morning...

[texted3times]

"Very nice," Eric praised, clapping in an almost-sincere way. "Do a little turn?"

[chef_chocobro]

"Far be it from me to disappoint an appreciative audience," said Ignis, who even removed the jacket for said turn.

It certainly helped that confidence--at least in that respect--was in no short supply when poured perfectly into such pants.

[texted3times]

"I am extremely appreciative," Eric said. "I do not regret giving you reduced drinks on spec."

[chef_chocobro]

Ignis knew that idle compliments from the lips of leather-fond club owners should not affect him much, but after the week he had, he was going to take it.

And a seat, now that the fashion show had concluded.

"And today as well," he noted. "I daresay, this could become a habit."

[texted3times]

Eric grinned. "It seemed popular last week. I'll keep it going until wearing leather in summer become uncomfortable."

[chef_chocobro]

"Catering to the amateurs, then, are we?"

He fought in these clothes, Eric. He fought in those shoes. They gave him certain bonuses. His strength and magic went up just by removing his jacket.

[texted3times]

Eric laughed. "Yes. Their whining would be a real mood killer."

[chef_chocobro]

"Fair enough," Ignis allowed, with a faint grin and a glance around the bar before finally signaling the bartender over to put in an order for a drink.

"A bit quieter in here now that the air has cleared a little, so to speak."

This was not necessarily a complaint.

[texted3times]

Eric nodded. "I don't mind the quieter nights." He winked. "More time for one-on-one conversations."

[flourish_or_perish]

Faye was not wearing leather pants tonight, and actually kind of internally cringed at the idea of that right now when she read the sign. No, Faye was wearing a loose, swishy (but still very short) skirt, and when she flagged Tiny down for her order, she was very specific that she wanted a shot of vodka and a glass of cranberry juice, not a mixed drink.

Last week had been worth it, okay?

"This is a good tradition to start," she told Eric, gesturing to the sign. Even if she wasn't participating this week (in much of anything, damn it), she had eyes. "Everyone likes Fridays, but Thursday never gets any attention."

[texted3times]

"As a Viking, I'm just horrified by this Thor erasure," Eric entirely made up, nodding. "He'd love leather pants."

Probably true!

[flourish_or_perish]

"Was that Thor's whole thing?" Faye asked, tapping her chin. "God of thunder and form-fitting clothes?"

[texted3times]

"Well, the one that was here for a while...yes," Eric said, grinning. "And amazing hair."

[flourish_or_perish]

"You know, one of these days I'll stop being surprised by that kind of thing," Faye noted, blinking a moment. "Weirdly not surprised by the amazing hair, honestly."

[texted3times]

"Mesmerizingly good," Eric admitted. "I thought of growing my hair long again."

[flourish_or_perish]

"Your hair still grows?" Faye wondered, finding that interesting in spite of herself as she gave him an obvious trying-to-picture-that look.

[texted3times]

Eric nodded. "Haircuts for a thousand years," he said. "It's very annoying."

[flourish_or_perish]

"You'd think it'd be one of those things you get to opt out of. I thought everything was, like, in stasis once you turned," she admitted.

Her own hair hadn't grown while the rest of her hadn't aged, anyway. Maybe cryostasis was different from vampires.

[texted3times]

"Well, hair and nails continue growing for a while after you're dead and Charlaine Harris didn't put that much thought into this," Eric mused. "But can you imagine being turned in the 80s and ending up with a mullet for eternity?"

[flourish_or_perish]

"At least you could cut that off," Faye pointed out. "Though from what I've seen, the eighties looked sort of fun, at least, even if the fashion was...something. I was born a little late for all that."

[texted3times]

"When were you born?" Eric asked.

Half the reason he stuck around Fandom was meeting people from all places and times. (And because he'd gotten to go to space, which was still the Best Thing Ever.)

[flourish_or_perish]

Faye considered giving a fake answer, but decided she just would vague out if he noticed that the details didn't quite match. The truth was interesting enough, anyway.

"2014," she supplied with an easy smile. "The future's more fun than this, where I'm from."

[texted3times]

Eric laughed. "Oh, really? Are there spaceships?"

Tell him there are spaceships.

[flourish_or_perish]

"I have a spaceship," Faye assured him. "I can take you up in it sometime. Only meant to carry a single passenger, though, so I'll have to sit in your lap."

This was really becoming quite the line during her time in Fandom.

[texted3times]

"That's just making the offer even better, you know," Eric said.

[flourish_or_perish]

"Oh, I know," Faye assured him. And fortunately she did already know she could at least pilot the Red Tail from someone's lap. And while rather distracted, if needs be. "And it's just a little thing. We could go about as far as Jupiter and back on a tank of fuel."

So not, like, far. Just to Jupiter.

[texted3times]

Eric grinned hard. "Jupiter?"

[talentforlying]

A promise had been made, so John had dug out his leather pants, coat, and a mesh shirt from when he'd been in Mucus Membrane. And he'd even thrown on some eyeliner for shits and giggles.

"As promised, one librarian in leather pants," he said as he took a seat. "Is it all you hoped?"

[texted3times]

"And more," Eric said gleefully. "Where did you unearth that shirt?"

[talentforlying]

"Memento from my teenage years in a punk band," John said cheerfully. "Fits a bit tighter than it used to, but not in a bad way."

[texted3times]

"I have another bar in Shreveport," Eric said. "I have seen the mesh shirt go the bad way. In a Piggly Wiggly at 2am."

He shuddered overdramatically.

[talentforlying]

"Now why would you put that image in my head?" John complained. "Shots. Shots, now."

[texted3times]

"I'm not a nice person," Eric said sweetly, gesturing for Tiny to get them some shots.

[talentforlying]

“And that’s what I like about you,” John replied cheerfully. “Can’t trust nice people. You never know what’s going to make them snap.”

[texted3times]

"That's very true," Eric agreed. "I know...one...nice person that I don't want to kill."