Pictures of last night ended up online, I'm screwed

[ofmyth]

WHO: Thor (ofmyth), Loki (selfimage), a bunch of booze, and everyone!
WHERE: Safehouse 2.0
WHEN: Late afternoon, evening, night on the 28th.
WHAT: Some people took down the monster, some people kept the group safe, some people snuck off to steal booze. They can all celebrate together.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: This is a post-event mingle! Loki stole a bunch of alcohol and Thor is going to make sure everyone gets some. Debrief, have fun, get wreckt, prepare for tfln the next morning.
Tag your own/check individual threads for specific warnings.

[When Loki hears the news of the Godzilla's demise, it takes a moment to sink in. There were doubts when a handful of the refugees wanted to run out and play hero, especially with their lack of abilities (for those who had them). He expected Thor to come back content on his involvement at best, broken and nursing his own failure, at worst. This? This is better than the best, and it's worthy of celebration. I's hard not to be pleased, hard not to congratulate; it's Thor's victory post the fall of Asgard, and Loki's sure that he's reveling in it.

Then, comes the booze: all different bottle shapes and sizes, some dark with lighter liquid, others opaque filled with something that has a more amber tint. It's unloaded carefully by all of them, messily lined up on the frames of one of the cots..

Thor looks to be almost a different creature than the moping, sullen thing he'd been since they arrived in the safehouse. Getting to his feet he stands taller, shoulders held back, a bright look in his eyes. Loki backs him up, tinking a metal spoon against one of the bottles to get everyone's attention. As Thor speaks he looks around the room, seeking out the eyes of everyone present.]

Seven days ago we were strangers. We were brought into an underground bunker, unsure of who we were and how we had come here. Some were angry, some afraid, others unsure. It's thanks to the aid and kindness of Gaby and El that we survived at all, here in this foreign city. Today, we have proven we will not merely surivive here.

[Thor hasn't met everyone here, but that's ultimately not the point. In his mind they are in this together, for better or worse. There is a 'we' who celebrate together now just as much as there is a 'they' who are responsible for their being here.]

Today we have repaid Gaby her kindness. Today we have protected not only her people here in the safehouse, but the people of the city. Today we have proved our strength to ourselves, to the city, to any who are watching us. Today, we set fear in the heart of our captor. [He seems to relish that last one most of all.]

Seven days ago we had little to celebrate. Today we raise a toast—[Up goes his bottle, held high and triumphant.] To us! To what we have done today! To victory!

[Loki chimes in, shaking the little bottle in his hand.] To New Amsterdam!

[Thor's arm is held high while others raise their drinks, then Thor upends his to drain it in a long pull.]

Comments

[persists]

It's something about the taste, I'd say. Enough to punish you for your choices, but smooth enough to loosen you up.

[ She does offer a caring furrow of her brows downward. ]

Does it bother you?

[timemachine]

I'd be lying if I said it doesn't, but everyone makes their own choices for what they like to consume.

[And she gets anxiety and panic and all that, but alcohol is something that lowers inhibitions and sometimes causes one to lose control. Also a sign that maybe people turn to it for other reasons.

Then again, she turns to revenge to help her panic, so is she really a better person? Not really.]

But I'm not going to tell people not to drink, either. Everyone earned this celebration.

[persists]

[ Respectfully, Ciri only keeps a bottle of water in hand. She doesn't push the subject, mainly because it's not worth the headache or she doesn't intend to make anyone uncomfortable. ]

When everyone ends up face first in their own vomit, you have the right to keep walking. We all make our own mistakes, too.

[ It's playful, at least. ]

[timemachine]

[There's a gentle giggle from Akane. There's no reason to pester Ciri if she understands the consequences. Surely she won't be the one ending up face first in vomit, right?]

I won't lie, I would keep walking. That sounds really gross if that were to happen.

[And she wouldn't help. Live in your consequences, Ciri!]

[persists]

[ HOPEFULLY SHE'LL BE GOOD. For now, she just sobers up best she can. ]

When were bad choices ever graceful?

[ Totally gross. ]

[timemachine]

['Hopefully' you say.]

Probably never, but you can always see through your bad choices like a diva.

[Like holding on to a grudge for nine years and killing three people by manipulating another man. And fucking up your childhood love with some good ol' PTSD. BAD CHOICES!]

[persists]

"Like a diva"?

[ HELP. ]

[timemachine]

[Well, the word itself is not very kind, now that she thinks about it.]

I guess like a lead woman in a play? Someone who's important and kind of acts in that sense, in a selfish way?

[She can't joke or meme here, can she?]

[persists]

Oh. I see. It's slang.

[ A diva, a queen, a princess — all interchangeable. There's an awkward laugh, all while she pushes her hand into her cheek tiredly. ]

I'm not quite sure I have the acting chops for that. Too much attention to be "a diva".

[timemachine]

Well, I suppose being a diva isn't about attention. It's more of a mood.

[Oh lord, she's going to have to explain that, too? 21st-century slang sure is a thing she didn't realize was... different. She's just so used to it.]

[persists]

Unless you plan on offering tips or training, I may fall a bit short on that.

[ She's at least cheeky about the way she dismisses the idea. ]

[timemachine]

Or maybe you're doing it just right.

[Be a diva, Ciri. Be amazing. Steal the spotlight.]

[persists]

What's that mean?

[ SHE'S A GRUBBY SWORDSWOMAN.... ]

[timemachine]

It means you can be a diva. You are a diva.

[Divas have nothing to do with status. It's a mood..!]

[persists]

Don't say it like you're some kind of preacher or recruiter on the street!

[ Some kind of encourager. She laughs — certainly a bit heartier than she'd like. The notion was just far too funny. ]