legionmissions | The Drunkening

Entry tags:

The Drunkening

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.]

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There was food. There was drink. There were people who thought he was great. It was the best night Grif'd had in...

Well. A really, really long time.

He was too wrapped up in explaining some key facts to some friendly strangers to get hung up on that detail.

"The point is," he said, spreading a hand out on the bar with great authority, "they're all idiots. I'm like a built in safety feature. Someone has to remind them they're idiots."

"I believe that's because it takes one to know one." Hiccup said jovially, interrupting what was no doubt a fascinating discussion.

The asshole dragon was right behind him, looking entirely to innocent.

Grif was completely sidetracked from whatever witty rejoinder he had in mind when he noticed Toothless.

It was hard not to notice Toothless.

"They let him in?" he asked, brows rising.

"Well, since he's here, I assume so." Hiccup said wryly.

"I mean, it's not like I could've snuck him in. He's a little too big and this place is a little too crowded for that."

Meanwhile, the people who had been paying such rapt attention to Grif were now looking over at Toothless. One alien woman is cooing over out adorable he is.

Grif rolled his eyes. "And I thought they had all kinds of standards in the future. Shouldn't this be against a health code?"

Nevermind that the media had been treating Toothless just as much like a hero as any of them. Well, maybe a hero mascot.

Stupid Hiccup and his chick magnet dragon.

"I don't see where there's a problem." Hiccup shot back. "Especially since I'm willing to bet he's got better hygiene standards than you do."

Toothless took a whiff of Grif, and snorted, nodding back at Hiccup in agreement.

Grif sighed dramatically. "I can't believe this. My bathing habits are being called into question by the viking."

And the dragon.

But he figured it was more cutting to just not acknowledge Toothless's scorn at all.

"Yes, and? I'm not sure where you're going with that. I bathe. A lot more often than the traditionally required once a week, even. A lot of Vikings do."

And some, like Gobber, didn't, but Hiccup wasn't going to mention that.

"Where'd you even get the idea that we don't?"

Toothless, meanwhile, decided to ignore Grif right back, by actively stealing the attention away from him. He slipped around Hiccup and Grif, and gave the most adorable innocent puppy-dog look he could to the temporary entourage.

"We know that people smelled bad before showers were invented. A bunch of smart guys decided that's a fact. I'm sorry you're just on the wrong side of history here," said Grif.

He shot Toothless a nasty scowl, because he could tell the dragon was smart enough to be doing this on purpose and enjoying it.

Stupid asshole dragon.

"You're more fun than the guy who did that for me back home, so I'll take it," Hal said nonchalantly from two seats down.

Grif waved a finger at him.

"Flattery won't make me stop!" he replied, clearly sensing an ulterior motive.

"Grif. If I had ulterior motives, I can see at least five women I'd be turning them towards here instead of talking to you."

And that was before turning his head to look at the rest of the bar.

(Truth be told, though, Hal hadn't found himself needing to rely on flattery to get very far, either. Legion affiliation was apparently a +5 modifier to irresistable in the eyes of some sentients.)

"Just so long as they all know you're an idiot," Grif replied with a magnanimous shrug. "I'm doing a public service."

"It's only idiotic if it doesn't work." Hal drained the last of his glass and slid it to the bartender for a refill.

"I'm practical. And in completely practical terms, you guys have been doing a lot of stupid shit."

Several other patrons were watching this friendly argument by that point, and Grif could not have been more pleased. He liked all this attention.

"As far as stupid shit I've done to save the universe, this doesn't even top the list."

Hal sounded utterly unconcerned. He was still here, the universe was still here. Ergo, not as stupid as it sounded.

Grif grinned. "Are you actually gonna tell me about it, or are you gonna leave everybody in suspense?"

"So. Picture the zombie apocalypse. Now picture the Spectre as a zombie that's still powerful enough to wipe the floor with just about anybody you send at him."

The bartender plunked another drink in front of him, and he paused for a sip.

"So, I let another cosmic entity take my body for a joyride to fight him, and thankfully this time we got it back out of me before I decided that rewriting the timestream was a cool idea."

Grif nodded as Hal talked, paused to empty his glass then asked,

"How many cosmic entities are there? Cause it's starting to sound like there are just an infinite number of these assholes waiting to show up whenever it's inconvenient."

"Not infinite, probably. I hope. Too damned many, for sure, and it feels like I'm hearing about new ones all the time."

Parallax had been news. And then the rest of the emotional spectrum, so of course there was one for every color there, and then that had to include black and white...

Hal was getting pretty sick of cosmic powers, honestly.

"Let's just hope we keep kicking their asses, I guess." Grif shrugged, as if this hadn't been a big deal. As if it hadn't been scary and possibly disastrous.

It was good for the image he was trying to project, at least.

"Us? We just had aliens. Seriously ugly ones."

"Only ugly ones? That's disappointing."

They had ugly ones too, sure, but they also had some pretty attractive ones. Of course, all of Hal's time out in the galaxy had left him with a fairly flexible definition of "attractive." Possibly a scandalous one, depending on one's perspective.

(...some of the fanfiction was probably more accurate than anyone knew.)

Grif laughed. "Hey, I knew a guy who had a baby with one. It must not have been a problem for him!"

...God that had been weird, because it was the guy he knew who had the baby.

It was still a good opportunity to rib Hal about the reputation he was developing. "Maybe I'm too judgmental though, you'd have to see them for yourself. How do you feel about mandibles?"

That reputation was fairly deserved, which meant that Hal wasn't particularly ashamed of it. Most of it.

"Aesthetically I could take or leave them, but it's what you do with them that counts."

Are you sure you want to tread this path, Grif?

Hal had challenged Grif to... something. A game of conversational chicken, perhaps.

In that case, game on.

"Oh, so you have experience?" he said. "Keep in mind that and they're all like twice your size, dude."

Aliens are scary, but using them to make fun of someone really helps cut back on the residual fear.

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ringslinging - 2016-06-28 20:40 (UTC) - Expand

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