something something amusing double entendre about pussy [dante's]

[tendencytostart]

St. John has had a trying day, all right, listeners...readers...whatever, shut up before someone dies. He's been prevented from doing the noble work of drunkening the fine folks of Hell by Pietro, who as far as he was concerned was insane when he worked with him in New York and is also insane now, he's dragged a bathtub across town (with Adam's

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[chovihanni]

Wanda rejects your double entendres, and posits that she has had an equally trying day, St. John, sir. Anyway. She wanders downstairs and goes to sit at the bar, slouching down like a good 19-year-old girl lookin' to get drunk.

"If it's this hot in May," she says, absently, "It's going to be awful in July."

[cordillageddon]

"So we leave the AC on. It's not like we have to worry about the electric bill anymore."

He punctuates this with a Look at St. John. He just helped you drag a bathtub across town in sweltering heat, dude; you are not allowed to make a crack about his religion even if he has left himself completely wide open for it.

...although really, what's he gonna do if you do?

[lovegonetowaste]

Nica, who before coming to Hell had never met a Jewish person in her entire life, is not going to make any of these jokes. Because she is only peripherally aware that you can.

Anyway, she straddles the bar (manfully -- she is clearly dramatically reenacting Nathan Petrelli's meaningful relationship with Bosnia) and lies down on it, closing her eyes.

Stfu, she doesn't need to talk.

[tendencytostart]

Actually, Adam, luckily for you St. John is so self-absorbed he's not even thinking about that right now! "My body temperature is 41 degrees on average. By July if any of you bastards are really my friends you'll shoot me in the fucking face."

GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY HERE, KIDS.

PS after uh...a lot of math in the IRC room, it should be established that St. John does in fact mean degrees Celsius here. Which for this PAINFULLY AMERICAN typist means about 102 degrees Fahrenheit....possibly. Maybe. Hopefully.

[chovihanni]

Wanda considers this.

"As an alternative to shooting, I think we need a swimming pool. Or we will, eventually." This is her professional opinion. She also looks over at Nica for back-up, because any excuse to run around in a bikini ought to be right up Nica's alley.

[cordillageddon]

"We'd have to clean it out first," says Adam morosely. "And eventually we'd have to change the water."

Feel free to glare at Mr. Optimism over here, guys.

"God. I fucking hate summer. We didn't have any of this 'seasons' bullshit back in Los Angeles. We had the same weather all year round."

Oh, god, here he goes with fucking California. This is going to be a theme. Because clearly absolutely everything is perfect in California. No earthquakes or rolling blackouts. It isn't, y'know, the state that elected Arnold fucking Schwarzenegger as governor or anything.

[lovegonetowaste]

"You also had the Terminator in a position of authority, dude." Nica is OBLIGED, as an action movie fan, to point this out.

She doesn't actually really...move at all, but she is considering the swimming pool suggestion. "There's bound to be swimming pools around here. It's stinking hot. You boys could stand to learn a thing or two about honest work."

It's worth noting that when Nica says 'honest work' what she actually means is 'doing exactly what Wanda and I tell you to, quicksmart hop to'.

[tendencytostart]

St. John goes very quiet and chokes on whatever he is drinking, which is presumably beer. He totally did honest work today, and it sucked. DON'T SAY ANYTHING, ADAM, IT'S A SURPRISE.

"I really kind of fucking hate swimming," he returns mildly, once his esophagus crawls back to where it's supposed to be.

[chovihanni]

"It's hotter in Los Angeles," Wanda says, eyeing Adam sidelong.

"Well, Nica and I will just swim together and ignore you two, then." Wanda is entirely too innocent, in her fashion, to be a cocktease about this, which is sad, because there is great potential for it right now.

[cordillageddon]

"It's perfect in Los Angeles," he says patriotically.

He's always been relatively indifferent to swimming. He didn't have time for it anyway. The idea is vaguely appealing now, as disgustingly hot and sticky as it is, though the idea of having to strip down to swim trunks in front of other people is...not.

"We could get one of those tables with a big umbrella in the middle. For shade."

[lovegonetowaste]

Nica makes a vague noise that doesn't really express an opinion either way -- having contributed her feelings on the matter, she is just going to go back to hanging out in the heat.

She is mostly inclined towards rolling around and going ":3?" when it gets hot. Emphasis on the lazy rolling.

If she does that on the bar, she's going to fall off, though. So more of the :3 face in this instance.

[tendencytostart]

"You know what else you didn't have in LA..." it occurs to St. John, who of course by this point is doing things like trying to balance a martini glass on Nica's stomach - stop rolling, dammit woman! -

"Snow. Which Wisconsin, I've heard tell, gets a fuckton of." He is...not pleased by this. Fucking precipitation!

...oh well, at least it won't be hot.

PS...was that a scratching, scratching at your chamber door, THK? IS IT VAMPIERS? ...at 4 in the afternoon?

[chovihanni]

"We should do that! Except I'm going to try to tan." FOR ONCE IN HER LIFE. The sun does not like Wanda much.

Wanda brightens up at the mention of winter, however. "I like snow. And ice, and snowfights, aaaaand also snowforts."

Wanda is five, apparently.

[cordillageddon]

Aaaaaa, snow. Adam...has never seen snow in his life, which annoys him, not because he's ever wanted to (shut up, he doesn't go in for all that cutesy holiday stuff, REALLY) but because he would like to think that he knows everything about everything, and snow is a rather significant thing never to have experienced.

"You can show me how to make stuff with it?" He doesn't want to be left out.

[lovegonetowaste]

Nica stops rolling long enough to go >:3 at St John, which is an expression that actually means 'and while Wanda is showing him how to do that, I will be stuffing snow down your pants and laughing like a woman possessed'.

It's eloquent facial contortion, stfu.

However, she sits up, dislodging the martini glass -- one of them will catch it, surely.

"Anyone else hear that?"

[tendencytostart]

At which point he will probably jam her head into a snowbank...they're a lovely couple. "Nica, you--what?" He listens! And lo, there was....hey, that really is scratching, he wasn't just being Poe-retarded earlier.

"What the fuck." St. John is naturally inclined towards...uh, suspicion and hatred, so you'll forgive him if he's immediately got out the cheap Bic he's been using in lieu of his Zippo (RIP) for the past few days.

Time for hoisting himself over the bar - it does have a door, St. John - and picking his way toward the source of the noise (the entrance of Dante's, for those keeping score at home). Yeees. Perhaps he will get to kill something. :3