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

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."

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.

Edited 2014-10-02 16:41 (UTC)

"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?"

"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.

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?

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.

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.

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?"

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?"

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.

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.

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."

Now feeling more than a bit defensive, Haruto rolls his shoulders and angles himself subtly away from Gary. "I asked! I'm just not sure that's what they gave me." He holds the glass up and gives it a little indicative wiggle. "It might be vodka, or...."

Wait, wait, no, hold on... Down goes his glass, and he looks more indignant than startled. "Why are you even asking this?" He is going to get his conversational footing back, damn it.

"Only curious!" Nope, not allowed. Gary drags the conversation back just as quickly as he started it, hardly skipping a beat. "I don't blame you--never can tell what the bartender slips in your glass behind the counter, eh?" He is, of course, pulling this right out of his ass, but that eyebrow-waggle he gives suggests a much higher level of confidence than a mere bluff.

Haruto was ever so resistant to being hauled into the conversation that Gary wanted to have. "Are you even old enough to be drinking?" Not that Haruto himself is that far past his own country's drinking age, but he will darn well throw some stones from the comfort of his glass house if he wants to.

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.

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.

"In this place, anyone can have their abilities impaired, dampened. Taken from them." Casually, Homura sipped her drink. "Even a god."

It didn't escape her who - what - Thor might have been, after all. Especially with a name like Thor.

"Just don't be angry if he doesn't win on account of it."

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."

Ruffnut grinned at Astrid's joy and then stiffened with surprise at the hug. It only took a moment for her viking nature to kick in and she wrapped her arms around Astrid in turn squeezing hard.

"What? You didn't think you'd get rid of me that easy did you?"

She'd seen Hiccup and Astrid looking for her when she watched the arena later. It was touching in a way she'd never admit to out loud. Even though they had each other they were still keeping an eye out for her.

If the man that's never failed her once suddenly lost, would she be angry? No. Maybe not. Though she was already disappointed enough in herself for losing, especially so soon. She was more afraid to face him for that.

"Even so, he's incredibly tough. He'll be a challenging one for anyone to beat."

"Course not. We've learned that from plenty of experience." Drunk or not, Astrid's signature smirk comes around, more amused than anything by the returning squeeze. It wasn't often that they engage in this sort of affection (they never did, rather), so she'll let her altered state be taken advantage of.

"But I'm really glad you're okay."

"Yeah you too. I've been waiting for like...ever!"

Ruffnut found it easier to adjust to such affection when Tuffnut wasn't there to mock her for it. Go figure.

"Is Hiccup still crazy?"

Ever the delicate one when addressing such sensitive topics.

"Depends on what you mean by that." She finally pulls back with a raised brow, a subtle reminder that their chief was always a little bit wild no matter what his state of mind. Of course, she knows exactly what she's referring to, a relieved sigh escaping her at the thought. If she was a bit more sober, she might be a little more shaken up by the talk, but she's determined to tough things out as best she could.

"He's better. No more hallucinations as far as I'm aware."

"That's better then." Ruffnut agreed and thumped the bar to get a drink for herself. When the bartender gave her a dirty look she scowled right back at him.

"This traitor business is hard. Everyone hates us now. I can barely even buy anything." She complained. Not that she had much money either.

"So who finally snuffed you two out?"

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

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