The Drunkening

[legionnpcs]

Who| Open to everyone!
What| A night on the town
Where| Galaxic, the hottest new club/bar in New Metropolis
When| After all the galactus stuff
Warnings/Notes| Almost guaranteed to have drunken children

The line outside Galaxic went around the block but all the Legionnaires had to do was flash their flight rings and even the people waiting in line wanted them to be allowed in first. As promised by the management, they were allowed in without a cover charge, and they would also find that every drink and food order was free. The United Planets as a whole definitely knew how to show their appreciation for the Legion.

In the 18+ side of the establishment, there were two sections. One was a more standard bar, decorated in a way that made it a perfect blend of classy and glitzy. The blue lighting and organically sculpted wall sconces gave it a bit of glamour, but the bar, the floor, the chairs, the padded stools, and all the tables were made from a smooth, dark, lacquered hardwood. The menu had a nice array of food from a variety of cultures, and alongside synthehol (like Silverale), the bar had made a daring (retro) decision to serve a few varieties of actual alcohol, for the adventurous and/or old-fashioned to try.

In the other section of the 18+ side, there was a dance floor and music, and the soundproofing was good enough that the music couldn't really be heard in the main bar. Deeper in the dancing area, it turned out that the adult side had its own anti-grav moon bounce, too.

In the 14-18 side of the establishment, everything was a little more hip, and it was split into a multi-floor club. The first floor had a massive dance floor, with multi-colored neon rave lights, and patterns projected in high definition on the dance floor. The dancefloor had a lounge area around it full of poofy purple couches and chairs for people to rest in. There was a seating area with tables there as well, opposite the side of the room with the DJ. While this little area looked like nothing more than a cafe with snacks and non-alcoholic beverages, it was also a bar and synthehol was also served here (though alcohol wasn't). Some of the drinks glowed in the dark or looked like swirling galaxies.

The first floor had an open ceiling that allowed club-goers to look up and see the other two levels of the club, and allowed the music to be heard on those levels, too. On the second level was an arcade, filled with very futuristic games, including Simroom suites and other virtual reality festivities. The third level held a massive room with a high ceiling and an anti-grav moon bounce, where club-goers could bounce off the walls and floors and floating bounce pads to dance around and mosh to the music.

Both the adult and younger side of the club served synthehol, which was non-addictive and hard to taste when mixed into drinks. While it was possible for someone drinking it to get very, very drunk, no matter how much they drank it wouldn't cause any harm to their bodies or cause them to throw up or black out.

The club/bar was filled to the brim with sentients of many species, all hoping to have a fun night on the town.

[ooc: Players can feel free to make up details about the food, drinks, and games.]

Comments

[ringslinging]

Synthehol was an impressive innovation in food science, to be sure, but Hal was old-fashioned, and drinking felt a little weird without a proper burn on the way down. He was getting used to going without it, given the ubiquity of the synthetic stuff and the apparent unpopularity of the old ways, but a line of text hiding at the bottom of the menu caught his attention, and he tossed the menu down on the bar and looked to the bartender.

"So. What's good out of the retro alcohol?"

Normally Hal wasn't financially stable enough to go for much above the rotgut, but if someone else was picking up the tab...

The bottle of whiskey the bartender produced from beneath the bar had some fairly old dates on the seal and was covered in a thin layer of dust. Clearly, this wasn't a request they got terribly often.

Or maybe they just saved the good stuff for VIPs, but either way, Hal wasn't complaining.

[got_gud]

Much like Hal, Alexander hadn't had much of a taste for synthehol. In fact, one could say his tastes were even more old fashioned.

After all, while Astora had its share of liquors like whiskey and brandy through trade, it was a relatively poor kingdom, and each village tended to have its own unique take on aqua vitae, most involving tinctures of spices, herbs, and roots. Mostly roots.

Despite his rather simple tastes, though, he wasn't above indulging in a little luxury every once in a while. Especially if it was on the house.

And so, from a few seats down at the bar, Alexander glanced over at Hal, raising a snifter of Cognac in his direction in a silent toast, before returning to his drink.

[ringslinging]

Hal raised his glass in return. He hadn't exchanged all that many words with Alexander, so far - not deliberately, more a case of their paths not crossing much - but from the impression he'd gotten, the man reminded him of some of his comrades back home in the Corps. Exactly the kind of serious dedication that was great to have at your back in a fight, but not so much on the social skills.

Then again, the fact that he was here with them at all put him ahead of some of those.

"You're looking pretty good for a guy who just got reported dead."

The number of hastily retracted news blurbs about the death of a Legionnaire in the line of duty had been...impressive.

[got_gud]

"Tales of my demise have been somewhat overstated," he replied with a chuckle.

He has absolutely no idea who Mark Twain is, nor that he just partially quoted him.

"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiments. Some of those obituaries were quite lovely."

It was strange being venerated as a hero. The concept of the media was fairly foreign to him, much less one that held him in high esteem. Though he'd done heroic deeds in the past, few people back home thought of him as a hero. In fact, there were more than a few who viewed him in a less than favorable light due to several key choices he made in the past.

"I heard your own team faced its share of harrowing experiences," he continued, pushing those thoughts away. "It is good you made it out relatively unharmed."

[ringslinging]

Hal was probably better prepared for the media circus than most of the others, all things considered; he was used to them taking an interest, as a member of the Justice League, and gossip rags tended to speculate here and there - it was mostly just the level to which the gossip rags and the news were intertwined and nigh indistinguishable that took some adjusting. (Though he couldn't honestly say it was a surprise, given the patterns that had already been showing in the media of his own time.)

"I think I'd have preferred the straight fight, honestly. It was mostly psychological bullshit on our end." He'd known to expect it, and he did consider that mission to have been the best one to put him on, given his past experience with the Spectre, but tackling his inner demons was twice as exhausting as a good fight.

After a while, he really just longed for an enemy he could punch in the face and be done with.

[got_gud]

"I would say you could have taken my place, but I imagine that would be a losing proposition for anyone without my...unique condition."

Despite his rather jovial mention of it, the fact that he was the only Undead--at least, his world's particular brand of Undead--in this universe was somewhat disquieting to him. It was an objectively good thing, definitely, but it also meant that there were worlds that didn't know the same kind of suffering his did.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but wonder why his world in particular was afflicted by such a curse, and no others.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, and raised his glass again with a laugh.

"Still, it good that no one was lost to us, given the dire nature of the battle."

[ringslinging]

"My idea to let the Spectre out of the box, only right for me to deal with it, whether I like it or not."

He didn't particularly like it. The Spectre was less dangerous than Galactus, to be sure, but Hal hadn't forgotten how his own tenure as its host had started after Asmodel sent it out of control, and he certainly hadn't forgotten how difficult it was to find anything capable of damaging the Spectre in a fight.

Still, they had a plan for dealing with it that didn't involve letting another cosmic entity out of the can this time, so he figured it could be a lot worse.

"I've seen a lot more people - wielding a lot more power - go down facing lesser threats." Too many Green Lanterns at full power had been lost during Sinestro's attack on Earth, and Sinestro wasn't on the same level as something that could eat planets.

[got_gud]

"And yet now we are to face an even greater threat," Alexander replied in a somber tone, as the bartender poured him another drink.

"It is too much to ask of so many that are so young. I have lived long enough to be willing to die my final death facing a threat such as Chronoblivion, yet many of our Legionnaires are but children. It is not right that they be asked to stand on the front line against this new enemy."

He hadn't actually realized how old he was until coming to this world. Being stuck among the deathless in the desolate ruins of Lordran, one loses track of time, and days and months and years blur together.

"But I cannot deny them this battle. Many have already proven themselves as courageous and capable warriors, willing to take up this fight. And we've not the numbers to turn them away. The only option, then, is to be their shield, and see to it myself that they live through this."

Taking another sip, he looked down at his glass and chuckled quietly.

"Truly it has been too long since I've had a strong drink. I do not normally ramble on like that."

[ringslinging]

"I'm not too wild about having kids on the battlefield myself, but legally, it's their call." Hal shook his head and took a sip of his drink. "I could say a lot about how questionable having a single age of majority for every species in the universe is, but I'm sure that'd be about as productive as filing a complaint with any government that's ever existed."

Which was to say: not at all.

"But they're pretty impressive. I wouldn't expect most kids to do half as well as the ones we have." His tone was fond. Hal never expected to have any kids of his own, but he liked them quite a bit. He always enjoyed being the cool uncle, when he was actually on Earth long enough to see his family. And like his brother's children, the younger Legionnaires here were hard not to like.

[got_gud]

"In Astora, one was considered a man at the age of fifteen, though it was only in the most desperate hours that our nobles even considered drafting anyone so young for their armies."

Though Astora's nobility had its fair share of decadence and arrogance, they were a relatively decent lot, compared to the nobles of other lands. It was a small nation, one that could be easily crippled by a peasant revolt, so the nobility tended to stay on good terms with the common folk.

"Though I cannot remember much of my life before becoming Undead, I do remember having a family. A wife, and three children. That time is centuries past, and they are long dead, but I cannot help but still think of my children as wee babes. I think of them often when I see the younger Legionnaires."

It had been so long, and dying so many times had taken such a hard toll on his mind, that he could no longer remember any of their names. He could only recall fading images of their faces, and that warm feeling he had whenever he saw them each time he returned home.

"But you are right. They are certainly impressive, and I am proud to fight beside them. Perhaps we'll even manage to teach them a thing or two about survival. For the ones who aren't too stubborn to listen, at least."

[ringslinging]

"I'm not a father, but I can get that. My brothers' kids are always still gonna be kids to me, even if Howie winds up taller than I did."

(The tall gene had skipped Jim, but hey, it could happen.)

"I'm not sure this crowd is the best to teach them how to not die, but maybe they'll at least learn what not to do from the rest of us." Alexander, Rich, Hal himself...there were more of them here who'd died and somehow come back than he would've expected. Mostly doing the kinds of things that they considered "right" and Grif would probably call "stupid."

It was fine if they did it, in Hal's mind, but he didn't want to see any of the kids throw themselves onto the pyre like that.