Thor isn't nearly as enthusiastic - not for lack of agreement that the young warriors deserve a bit of coming of age acknowledgement, or less appreciation for a few drinks and good food than his old friend - he just doesn't cust loose among mortals so easily. Even so, he's along, and in reasonably good spirits, ordering himself a tankard of mead and finding a place to settle back and keep an eye on things.
Behind the mighty warriors of debatable myth is Dr. Pym.
He's less concerned about celebration and much more concerned about Victor Mancha and Cassie Lang... both tied into his own legacy, albeit in different ways.
He's hoping he'll be able to talk to one or the other of them in a much more amiable setting. He wants to build trust, if at all possible after this debacle.
"AYE, BRING FORTH THE CHICKEN WINGS! BEER!! STRIPPERS!!!" comes the eager bluster from one Santo Vaccaro.
All he'd had to do to get permission to come to the party was point to the side of his mouth where four of his teeth were still missing. The Greek god of skirts owed him a chance to make merry, and he fully intended to take advantage of it.
Looking around, he's cresftallen. "Dude. No strippers? Aww, c'mon!! Call She-Hulk! Call Tigra! Call- are those the only two hot Amazons on your team? CALL SHE-HULK!!!" He has SO got his camera-phone ready.
The God of Thunder nods. "Aye Hank... this once. Under watch. After all they hath been through, Herakles wast right, they hath come of age in a way few wilt e'er know. Worry not, they shalt not e'er be unsupervised."
Sofia went behind the bar to see what she could drink. She was frowning. "And sometimes I forget why most people hate you." Straight away she went to mixing several drinks together with the skill that only comes from practice.
"Yeah, I know." He held up a bottle of cheap gin. "I'm an acquired taste." He grinned a bit.
"But tonight's a good night. Good booze..." he glanced at the bottle of cheap gin, and set it aside. "Well, mostly. Good company... and the Young Avengers too, but no reason to let them ruin a fun night.
"I just want to enjoy myself." Cause in a number of weeks, this would all be taken away from him. But while he still had it, he was totally going to cherish every moment (screw you Hallmark) live it up while he could.
Victor has come along, but he's really not trusting the idea of free booze. He's been drinking before... but he's never really liked the idea of getting drunk, and now that he knows what's inside him... well, losing control like that really seems like a poor idea.
Instead, he orders an orange juice, and he watches the karaoke, and wonders just how his life got so strange.
Julian was... worse. In fact, he was singing along to the song currently blasting out of the karaoke machine. His words weren't slurred, but he didn't seem to be entirely realizing what he was doing.
He still poured himself another drink.
"'Never really knew that she could dance like this She makes a man wants to speak Spanish Como se llama, bonita, mi casa..."
He held up his shot as a toast to her, then down it in one go.
He started laughing when she laughed, and almost fell out of his seat. He caught himself, and got up. He was a bit unsteady at first, but then he remembered that, yes, the ground was down there.
...Perhaps he should stop floating if he wanted to stand on it again.
"Ok, yeah... I think I hit my limit."
He landed next to her, and leaned on the bar for support.
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Even so, he's along, and in reasonably good spirits, ordering himself a tankard of mead and finding a place to settle back and keep an eye on things.
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He's less concerned about celebration and much more concerned about Victor Mancha and Cassie Lang... both tied into his own legacy, albeit in different ways.
He's hoping he'll be able to talk to one or the other of them in a much more amiable setting. He wants to build trust, if at all possible after this debacle.
Set an example, though... order orange juice.
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All he'd had to do to get permission to come to the party was point to the side of his mouth where four of his teeth were still missing. The Greek god of skirts owed him a chance to make merry, and he fully intended to take advantage of it.
Looking around, he's cresftallen. "Dude. No strippers? Aww, c'mon!! Call She-Hulk! Call Tigra! Call- are those the only two hot Amazons on your team? CALL SHE-HULK!!!" He has SO got his camera-phone ready.
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"You do know she's a lawyer, not a stripper? How old are you?"
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Then he glances at Thor.
No, it's more of a glare.
"Are you giving these kids alcohol?"
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This is not going to end well. He'll pretend he was bullied by the Gods to go along with this...
"You do realize that they'll revoke the charter if this gets out?"
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He watched her carefully. She had done this before.
"I was trying to be nice. Not my fault people are so sensitive about things."
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"But tonight's a good night. Good booze..." he glanced at the bottle of cheap gin, and set it aside. "Well, mostly. Good company... and the Young Avengers too, but no reason to let them ruin a fun night.
"I just want to enjoy myself." Cause in a number of weeks, this would all be taken away from him. But while he still had it, he was totally going to cherish every moment (screw you Hallmark) live it up while he could.
"Relax a bit, and everything'll be fine."
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Instead, he orders an orange juice, and he watches the karaoke, and wonders just how his life got so strange.
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She focused on speaking. "Quier-" She blinked. "Want another drink?"
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He still poured himself another drink.
"'Never really knew that she could dance like this
She makes a man wants to speak Spanish
Como se llama, bonita, mi casa..."
He held up his shot as a toast to her, then down it in one go.
"Sofia, Sofia!"
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...Perhaps he should stop floating if he wanted to stand on it again.
"Ok, yeah... I think I hit my limit."
He landed next to her, and leaned on the bar for support.
"So... you win, beautiful. Name your prize."
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