come the fuck on

[hemomancer]

It's a bright New England winter day. Xan and Leo have elected to take the tunnels from Poe dorm to the Powers Theory classroom, because regardless of their Exemplar ratings, they're still from California and it's eight degrees out. And the tunnels have central heating. Glorious, glorious central heating.

In the middle of an extended diatribe against artificial turf, Xan opens the door to Schuester Hall, which is... not the door to Schuester Hall.

Xan peers at it. "Are we being pranked or something? Has someone not been informed that I piss napalm?"

"You bleed napalm," notes Leo. "If you were pissing it we'd have a medical issue on our hands. Somebody could've thrown up an illusion, but I don't really see the point of replacing Schuester with... a bar? With some chick inside? Like, what, we're going to whip out our fake IDs and get in trouble? But Mom always says that if you can't see the point of a trap then whoever set it is smarter than you are. Let's go down the hall and take the south door."

"Jesus Christ," Xan mutters, hauling Leo in by the arm. "Let's avoid the cool-as-shit magic bar, he says. You're such a fucking girl."

Leo makes a noise of protest. "I'm working on that! And I object to your manhandling!"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

They behold the bar. It's a very nice bar. It has a window to some exploding stars. "Huh. I'm... pretty sure that's magic of some kind," notes Leo.

"So am I, dipshit, we're both wizards."

"Just making conversation."

Comments

[stonedtimewitch]

Damara Megido wonders what the appeal of alcohol actually was. She understands why someone would wish to be drunk but she doesn't care much for the bitter taste of the alcohol itself. The japanese girl decides to try something to make the wine this bar served more palatable since she can use magic here without risking some asshole with a broad sword coming to cut off her head.

She puts her hand against the wine glass and takes a deep breath. The ticking that refuses to leave her head suddenly speeds up, sounding more like a motor then a grandfather clock. Her eyes glow, the wine inside her glass churns about. After 100 seconds she takes her hands off the glass. A single sip confirms it, after 100 years of aging this wine still tastes like shit. Typical topshelf swill.

She puts it down and takes out something to smoke instead. She isn't sure exactly what it is this strange magic bar gave her but it makes her high and doesn't smell as strong as her usual stuff. It will do. She hears one of the doors open, two new patrons of moderate prettiness entered. Damara is both high and bored after hiding out here for so long, she decides these two would be her source of entertainment for tonight. "Hello boys," she says, exaggerating her accent. "There lonely pretty girl here, that get me free drinks?"