milliways_bar | (no subject)

When Thor steps into the bar this time, he's looking much more normal. (For Earth. Not really for Asgard.) He's in black jeans and workboots, and a sturdy brown jacket over a t-shirt -- borrowed clothes again, but this time they mostly fit, and they're suited to the New Mexico winter he's come from.

Of course, humans feel cold rather more acutely than Asgardians do, but Thor is pretty close to human at this point, like it or not. Anyway, he's used to wearing heavy layers of clothing. The jacket's honestly kind of a comfort.

He also steps up into Milliways, because he thought he was getting into a van.

Milliways is unexpected this time too, but his confusion passes rapidly. (And it's much less existential this time. Half a day and a good meal after his first Milliways entrance, Thor has his feet under him much more solidly.) He heads for the bar, although he's perfectly willing to be flagged down along the way.

[Tinytag: Thor Odinson, Darcy Lewis, Leela]

[OOC: Closed to new threads, sorry!]

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"Three Warriors, is it?"

Diana's smile is warm, and has no trace of any previous wistfulness.

"It is an auspicious number, three, is it not?"

"They are great friends, and mighty warriors. But I suspect the luck of threes is part of why they are often named so."

And part of why Sif isn't added in to make the Warriors Four -- but only part of why. The warrior-maiden Sif is notable in her own ways as well.

"Might all your friends be classified so? As warriors, I mean to say."

She laughs a little, quietly.

"Some of my sisters were well-known as metalcrafters and healers, though most preferred to train for battle."

"We have those as well," Thor agrees.

He respects their work, too, in the vague way of someone who's never had equipment or health fail him enough to really drive home how important their skills are. But to be a warrior is the most honorable option possible, in Thor's opinion.

"But all of my friends are warriors."

"Loki is fond as well of magic and trickery. But for all his sneaking, he is no coward -- he is a brave and deadly warrior."

"There is a great deal to be said for misdirection."

Diana smiles.

"And, of course, to harnessing the power of your enemies own expectations against them."

Diana has a little skill with that. As do some of her companions.

"Have you come here often enough yet to have such friends here, too?"

Thor has... not a lot of skill with that. In part because he has very little inclination for it. Sneaking about and pulling tricks is effective, sure, but it's not the same thing as honest battle!

There are reasons Thor's dad has just exiled him for a lack of thinking things through, is what we're saying.

He shakes his head. "I have met folk both kind and generous, but only for a short time. None I know well enough yet for true friendship."

Thor makes friends fast, but not that fast, and not on the strength of just some barroom chatting.

"There is a great deal to be said for simple acquaintance, as well."

Here Diana's smile goes crooked, and a little bit wry.

"Though even that takes time."

Days, but not years.

Generally.

"Very true," Thor approves.

Thor is very much a people person.

"Comrades of any sort are not to be scorned."

"And with that being said -- "

Here Diana's grin turns mischievous.

" -- shall I buy you a drink?"

Thor's grin matches hers, mischievous and openly amused.

"I would return you my thanks, lady Diana, and buy you one in return."

Not that he has any money on him, but he's had the whole tab system explained to him. So!

"I consider it a bargain well-made, then."

Her smile remains bright.

"Do you have a preference for beverage, or shall I offer you a drink fit for an Amazon?"

"I leave the choice in your hands," Thor says, with the blithe cheer of an alien space Viking with a superhuman metabolism.

He may or may not regret that later. But his metabolism right now is, if not fully Asgardian, at least on the alcohol tolerance of an elephant end of the scale.

"It remains to be seen whether that is a wise decision," Diana says, laughing.

"Mead for my companion, if you would, Bar. You know the one."

Apparently Diana has some obvious preferences.

And, once the cup has appeared --

"Thank you."

Then she looks at Thor, raising an eyebrow as if to say well?.

Thor gets as far as a hearty "And an--"

Um.

Actually, wait a minute.

To Diana, he says, "By my choice, I would repay you with Asgardian mead. It is a noble drink, commonly drunk in fellowship. But I fear that for mortal stomachs the drinks of Asgard are strong perhaps to danger."

The mead he's had here was weirdly weak, anyway, and he has vague recollections that this has been an issue Asgardians have run into in the past. It's newly relevant information.

Diana laughs, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You need have little fear, then. Neither I nor my sisters are mortal, though my differences are greater by far than theirs."

Being shaped out of clay will do that for a former goddess.

Anyway.

"Though as I have been warned, rest assured I shall take the first sip cautiously."

The next one --

Probably less so.

Thor beams.

Nothing against mortals; he never has had any quarrel with them, and his brief companions of New Mexico are both kind and courteous. But it's also nice to meet someone else for whom he doesn't have to silently wonder when something simple is going to break them.

(Thor is as breakable as any highly muscular mortal now himself. But he hasn't fully internalized that; it's only been true for a day, after all, and he expects to be his normal self again soon.)

"Then a mead of Asgard for the lady Diana," he charges of Bar, and a golden goblet obediently materializes.

What's in it is a faintly luminous honey-wine, not exactly glowing but definitely of brighter color than its surroundings. It's not as strong as Atlantean, or anything -- that's what Asgardian hard liquor is for, not mead -- but it's definitely up there with, say, Everclear.

Even though it doesn't taste like anything of the sort.

"I thank you," Diana says, smiling brightly and lifting her cup in a toast.

"To your health, and long life."

They are warriors, it is not as if such well-wishes are ever inappropriate, invulnerability or no.

And then she takes a quick, careful swallow of mead.

It burns on the way down.

Gloriously.

Huh.

"And to yours!"

Thor's first swallow is likewise experimental, although not quite so careful.

The verdict: weaker than he's used to (which... may be a good thing), but stronger than the mead Dinah Lance gave him. And delicious!

An enthusiastic second round -- not to say a third and a fourth -- seem fairly likely.

Though perhaps they'll try other drinks as well. Fellowship is the goal here, not drunkenness.

(And time may stop while he's here, but Thor has not forgotten Mjolnir.)