[open] thor isn't the only one who gets to have drunk fun

[stotte]

Who| everybody stuck in the capitol
What| let's all just get drunk while wanting this arena to wrap up already
Where| bar in the training center
When| during the final week of the arena
Warnings/Notes| ultra booze fest

( Everyone, feel free to make your own prompts. Astrid is starting the Thor booze donation train, but really, it's just one big Kumbaya of drinking in here! )

Comments

astrid hofferson ♦ open to all

[stotte]

It was still a weird feeling, dying. But most of all, she was still distraught that she had failed everything she had hoped to accomplish. She certainly didn't keep a close enough eye on Ruffnut to protect her, and even sacrificing herself to save Hiccup led to his inevitable death anyway. She was weak and a complete disappointment, mostly to herself.

She was never a heavy drinker back in the village, but she couldn't bring herself to find comfort in the training center, instead finding herself at the bar. Eyes on the screen, she watches as the arena continues on, tributes still going down one by one, responding by taking another gulp of whatever she had been given (she hadn't even bothered to find out, just asking for the hardest they had).

There weren't too many left, only a few she was even familiar with, but she felt a sense of pride seeing Thor still there. Of course he's still there. He was the god that she had looked up to since she was old enough to pick up a shield, the first man she ever felt an immense amount of respect for. She wasn't the betting type, especially not with a joke of a hell like this, but she'd be rooting for him.

"I want to send him a drink. I want to send him all the drinks," she says it out loud to no one in particular, almost muttering in her drunken state. There's a short pause as she sorts through her thoughts before nodding with confidence. "43 drinks. That's a good number. A great number. I'll do that."

[iflipmyhair]

"Is that a good idea?"

The girl next to Astrid was a bit younger. Her drink was something fruity and purple.

"Fighting drunk," Homura spoke as she turned to look at the Viking, stirring said drink with a straw. "At this point of the game, wouldn't that be a risk?"

[stotte]

Astrid turns to the girl beside her, unfamiliar as she is. She only laughs, amused by the question.

"It's Thor. A man of his abilities won't be brought down by a little bit of alcohol." After all, he was still a god in her eyes, and what god would be weaken by a little drinking? Especially a god of the Vikings who knew no limitations in that standard.

Re: astrid hofferson ♦ open to all

[ruffntumblenut]

"Yeah! Get the god of Thunder drunk!"

Ruffnut had appeared behind her in time to hear that deceleration and pumped her fist in the air in approval.

"Look at those muscles! Those muscles need drinks!" She shouted gesturing to the TV. The crowd looked up to see who was shouting then scowled almost simultaneously before going about their business.

The scar on her cheek still branded her a traitor and as such the entire city seemed to loath her...not that Ruffnut cared.

[stotte]

It's a voice Astrid knows all too well. One that usually resulted in a quick roll of her eyes. But this time, her heart seemed to skip a beat and a smile takes over her face when she turns around and confirms the voice's owner.

"Ruffnut, you're—!" Alive. She knew she would be, but somehow seeing her was all too satisfying.

She'll blame the alcohol for it later, never even considering the thought while sober, but pleased as she is, she bounces off of her chair to wrap her arms around her very missed friend.

[fiercestwarrior]

No, dying was certainly not a pleasant experience, and it was in some ways only further soured by waking up safe and whole in the blasted Capitol all over again.

What was so wrong with ending up in some pleasant spirit world where you could get spectacularly drunk and spend the rest of eternity in glorious celebration of your honorable warrior death? Why could that not be a thing?

Well, the getting drunk part could at least be a thing which is why she sought out a bar and proceeded to get herself pleasantly buzzed. Her good mood fled, however, when she caught sight of Thor on the screen that Astrid was watching, and heard the girl muttering about sending him drinks.

"Don't. It'll only make him reckless...er."

Then again if Thor drank himself into a stupor maybe he'd forget about that thing she'd told him before she died.

That "I love you" thing.

[stotte]

Astrid turns to her side when she hears the voice, a raised eyebrow in surprise. There's an unfamiliar face, unknown yet not seeming entirely like a stranger. The comment, however, doesn't shift her mind from her ideas, only more determined to offer some sort of gift, whether as luck or even compensation for falling so early.

"A little bit of a drink won't ruin him. It'll probably just make him even stronger." Because any god of a Viking could obviously only get better with a little alcohol thrown in him. "Besides, he'll win. He has to."

[tasermaiden]

There's a chance Thor can actually win this. Which doesn't surprise her one bit. She's seen him regain his worthiness and his might and practically sprout armor and gain +10 badass hammer. (She's also seen him in just his boxers, which...if she had doubts about him being a god, they're gone now.) Of course, Darcy's too drunk to realize that sending Thor ludicrous amounts of alcohol could hinder his winning potential instead of helping.

Which means that, obviously, she's going to have to agree with that idea. Because it's a great idea. "So many drinks. He can drink his way to victory."

[stotte]

They may have never met, but in her intoxicated state, she's already become incredibly fond of the girl. With a huge grin, she slams down her hand hard on the counter, shaking from the strength of a shieldmaiden.

"Then let's do it! Let's give the great God of Thunder the fuel to strength his mighty arms!"

before or after the gin decision, either way

[capitolprivilege]

"How're you feeling?"

Stephen slides into the seat next to her, resting his arms on the bar. He'd been looking around for her -- not too hard, he's got to keep up appearances -- but he's glad to finally have found her. His manner is completely casual, like he hasn't just seen her die horribly.

[stotte]

Even if it had been about two months since she'd seen him, Astrid hasn't forgotten his voice. There's slight hesitation before she can manage to twist her body to turn to him, mostly due to the slight shame in what had happened since they'd last met.

He had warned her about acting against the Capitol, and despite not regretting going to save Hiccup, she had not only failed that mission but ended up getting killed in the arena as well. He had pushed her and believed in her yet she had probably let him down as a tribute.

"Oh, you know me. Tough as nails." She finally turns to him with an attempt at a smile, but it wasn't hard to see Astrid's hopeful outlook on things had received plenty of cracks since she'd arrived. "How about you? How's the Capitol world been?"

open!

[a_minute_younger]

A good number of people in the bar right now are probably drinking to drown out pain, memories of loss, simply pass the time until the Capitol gave them something else to do. They have their reasons--the battle-proven few amongst the cheerful press and fans.

Gary is neither aware of nor concerned with any of them.

The teen's been spending most of the day of his arrival exploring his suite in the Training Center and the city at large, sticking his nose into anything he wasn't immediately scolded for. It's a pleasant surprise for him, then, to return later in the evening to find the lobby thriving with all sorts of people, personalities--booze. The booze is important, if only because everyone else is partaking in it. It does not take long for Gary to start partaking in it as well.

The centers of attention in the room are on the television, for obvious reasons, but Gary can't pay attention for them for too long. He'll wander between gathered crowds, loudly-colored drink in hand, watch for a minute or so, then promptly get bored and turn to whoever is standing next to him. "Hey," he'll say, grinning brightly. "What'd you get?"

There's a gesture at the glass whoever he's talking to is inevitably holding. Alcohol is the one thing that he knows (or is fairly sure that) everyone in this room has in common, so it's also the one thing he's certain he can break the ice with.

[wizardplease]

Haruto hadn't come to the bar with the explicit intent of drinking. He just wanted to ask around about things, get the feel of the situation, and put together a plan to handle this. But once he realizes that they're not just televising these 'games', they're editing them and showing them in the most lurid, sensationalist way possible... he needs a drink.

So there he is, taking periodic gulps of something fizzy and yellow in a highball glass, eyes fixed on the nearest monitor. Gary catches him entirely by surprise and he jolts and lets out an exclamation that's almost a squeak. A moment later he's coughing, sitting straighter, and putting all of his attention on the guy that just cut in on this horrible moment. "...chuhai." And then he glances down at his glass, frowns, takes another gulp of it, and nods. "Yeah. I think that's what it is."

...wait, what the heck kind of question is that, anyway?

[a_minute_younger]

Gary has no idea what chuhai is. "Cool!" He beams and takes a gulp of his own drink. Gary has no idea what this is, either. It's bright blue and very strong, and really that's all he cares to know right now. The glass comes down and his face is briefly scrunched, before settling to something more skeptical. "You didn't ask?"

Re: open!

[culturalappropriation]

Punchy has been taking advantage of the fact that Panem's got a lower drinking age than Missouri for the better part of the evening. By the time he and Gary run into each other, Punchy's got a decidedly pink cast to his nose and cheeks, obscuring the freckles that usually stand out against his skin. The rest of him looks nearly equally ridiculous - his muscular body is covered by a hoodie covered in rhinestones and embroidered dragons and tigers, and his spiky hair is dyed with bright blue tips.

He greets Gary with an equally bright grin, all happy-drunk and friendly. "Dawg, I'm just getting my liver lubed up with some Crystal before I act the fool. You, lil' homie?"

And because he has absolutely zero respect for personal space, he slaps his hand down on Gary's shoulder as if they're already best buddies.

[a_minute_younger]

Gary does not mind the invasion--actually he braces into it, laughing and raising his glass in a pseudo-toast before taking a hearty sip. This is not his first and he, too, is running a bit pink in the face. But he's not smashed yet. Clearly they need to fix this.

"Alright! Great!" Having experience only with the dirt-cheap beer and vodka served at impromptu house parties, Gary naturally has no idea what kind of drinks are being served here. Punchy's sounds vaguely like it should be illegal. Gary doesn't particularly care. Of course, he also doesn't know what he's been drinking, either, so instead of fumbling for an answer he just makes one up.

"I just asked for the strongest thing they had," Gary grins, aiming a jab of his elbow into his new friend's side. Actually he asked for whatever the last person at the bar ordered, but details. They looked like they were having a fun time, so obviously it must have been good. "Didn't even card me or anything. Can you fucking believe it?" He holds out a hand and makes a wide, sweeping gesture in front of them. "Best bar."

Open

[fiercestwarrior]

Generally speaking it really wasn't a particularly good idea to give Sif access to large amounts of alcohol, but since the Capitol bartender did not know that it was likely to eventually get the establishment he worked in utterly trashed if he kept serving her... well, the drinks would keep coming as long as she asked for them.

She was not yet so far gone that she was that much more likely to punch someone in the face than usual (which still meant that someone might get a fist thrown their way if they made a wrong move) but there was a pleasant sort of hum in her veins that did at least take the sharpest edge off her utter embarrassment.

She had promised herself that she would not speak of her feelings to Thor, and what had she gone and done?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Sif really didn't like feeling stupid. Not one bit.

Admittedly she had been not only dying, but her brains had been scrambled by some kind of poison but still. She should have been strong enough to keep her damn mouth shut.

But no, now the cat was out of the bag and she was in an utterly rotten mood, standing out like a sore thumb in the bar because people were mostly being smart enough to give her lots of space.

[gladiayyygirl]

Most people might be smart enough, but Gannicus is hardly most people. Grinning and shirtless, as ever, he had been propping up the bar for hours before the Thor-Drinkathon had pitched up. He certainly didn't mind the company, nor did he mind the challenge of the dark haired lady who managed to cut a swathe through the bar with the merits of her bad mood alone. That was a skill in itself.

He subtly takes a space at the bar by her elbow, eyes trained on the dregs of what was left of his own drink cradled in his hands.

"You are not entertained," He observes in a low murmur as he grins sidelong at her. "Is it foul drink? Or foul company?"

[fiercestwarrior]

The look she gives him is rather cold, but there is something... familiar about Gannicus. He feels like someone she would not have a hard time understanding, should she feel inclined to try.

The problem is of course that she is not much in the mood for company at the moment, which is why he is facing down her more hostile side rather than something more friendly.

Then again, is that not what drew him to her anyway? Perhaps he'll not mind as much as she wants him to.

"Did I seem particularly keen on finding out what the company is like in here?"

[a_minute_younger]

Gary is smart enough to notice someone in a nasty mood, but he lacks the tact to avoid them. That same malfunctioning censor also does not inform him that he is entirely too young to approach brooding women at bars. At least he doesn't have any long-term goal in mind (save refilling his drink) when he swings around Sif's back and takes up the spot next to her at the counter. A glance is cast between her and the glass in her hands.

"They forgot the olive, didn't they?" ...That's what they put in fancy drinks, right? Olives? Gary thinks he's seen a couple people with olives in their drinks. He's sticking with it.

[fiercestwarrior]

"No one should try to put anything in my glass except for hard liquor."

Because the truth is that Sif is more or less itching for a fight, and it is very frustrating indeed that she doesn't really have a reason to punch anyone in the face.

There is of course also the part where she would most likely get arrested and punished if she were to do something like that, and she would hate to be imprisoned upon Thor's return from the arena.

[hiccup1puberty0]

Hiccup didn't give her space, but that was because he knew who she was from all the commercials and such. She was Sif - the Sif. Or a Sif, at least, like Thor was a Thor.

"Can I buy you a drink? Or drinks? Multiple drinks? You look like you're having a bad day and on account of, y'know, you being a goddess and everything, I feel an offering is in order."

The young man that had approached her was dressed like...well, a Viking. It was likely very familiar dress. A furry boot on his flesh and blood foot, leggings, a green sleeveless tunic, and a thick leather belt over all.

He was still a little twitchy but judging from the scar on his forehead, shaped like the Capitol's insignia, he was one of the people that especially had reason to be. But funnily enough, his hair had been braided out of the way, as if he was refusing to be ashamed of it. Drawn over top of it was a mark that seemed to have some sort of symbolic significance, not necessarily masking the brand but making it appear almost as if it was meant to be there with the symbol.

"Although I do have to say, I always pictured you more blonde. That's how all the stories describe you."

[fiercestwarrior]

Sif blinked a little, surprised by the mention of her as a goddess. It had been some time since she was spoken of as such, and it made her surly expression soften ever so slightly. Not so much because she wished to be worshiped, but more because Hiccup made her think of a younger time. A happier time.

"An expectation I would have lived up to, once."

[honeyibrokeharlem]

When Bruce had seen the love confession on TV, he had visibly winced and looked away. He is the type to try staying out of people's drama at the best of times, and witnessing something so personal was already cringe-inducing even without understanding that it'd lead to nothing but awkwardness and possibly a broken friendship.

So, just as much for her as for him, he will not acknowledge that he has any idea what happened. Instead, when he notices that they're sitting together, he quietly nudges his scotch towards her without a word.

If anyone asks, he just thinks she looks like she needs a drink and he wants an excuse to stop himself from drinking.

[fiercestwarrior]

She's not even going to try to pretend like she is too proud to take that drink, and she downs most of it in one gulp.

"Hello, Bruce."