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The Devil's Nest, Thursday Evening

Thor was a bit distracted tonight, being deep in conversation with himself.

Well, with Don, but Don was a bit invisible unless you could see ghosts. Still, if anyone tried to sit on that particular barstool Thor would tell them to move.

I just think we've got to be coming at it all wrong. It's not like anyone knew how to create Asgard before it was created in the first place.

"Did they not?" Thor asked, ignoring the look Tiny shot him. "We do not know that."

Maybe it's something you just have to...do.

"But how?"

Don did not have an answer for that.

Specials
May Daisy
May Queen
May Day

The Devil's Nest is open!

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Well, hopefully Don's stool wasn't the same as Gladio's usual stool, because he was headed right for it as he came in, grin on his face, and thudding a bottle down on the bar a moment before he took his seat. He nodded at the bottle and then grinned a little more at Thor.

"Don't go too hard on me," he said, "it's my first time. But I think that batch of mead we were talking about's finally ready."

And just in time for what was definitely going to be a totally normal camping weekend with the guys!

Camping trips with mead were the best kind! And fortunately Don had not, in fact, picked Gladio's usual stool to manifest himself upon, although he was looking rather curious.

"Friend Gladio!" Thor greeted him. "Then we must sample it, to be sure!" It was very important to be sure of things that required sampling of mead.

Add vampires into the mix, and they were gearing up for a perfect weekend!

"I'm genuinely interested to hear the opinion of an expert," Gladio admitted with a snort.

Somewhere, Ignis Scientia was suddenly feeling offended and he didn't know why.

"As long as it's passable, though, I'll be happy. I'd hate to have wasted so much of Nell's honey only to go and mess it up."

"Then you merely let it continue into vinegar and pretend that was what you meant to produce all along," Thor advised him.

"I do have some I'm letting age longer set aside," Gladio reported. "From my reading, it seems the longer, the better, but about six months'll get you there if you're impatient." He grinned. "Which I am. If it's real bad, though, guess I can give Igs a challenge in trying to make something decent out of it."

There was a flicker of humor on Thor's face, and he said, "Or you could--" and then he remembered. "Ah, no. That...will not work." Volstagg would not be an option for bad alcohol disposal, alas.

"Oh, come on, now," Gladio snorted a laugh, wagging a finger at Thor. "You can't do that. Even if it won't work, you can't just leave a guy hanging like that! Because now I'm curious."

"I was merely thinking of a friend of mine, who would surely drink the mead regardless of its quality, though he might complain mightily afterward," Thor explained. "Alas, mighty Volstagg is not...currently with us."

"Yeah, okay," Gladio allowed, with a little wince of sympathy, "I can see why that might make it pretty hard to foist it on him. Although maybe for the best if it's really that bad."

It wasn't. It wasn't great, either, but he'd done a fairly fine job of it. Maybe a little off on the spices, the year-long batch was definitely going to be an improvement, but no one would call it undrinkable...except maybe Prompto, who found most alcohol to be undrinkable in general.

Stark had been promised a drink if he came in tonight and so here he was. Ready for a drink with a friend who things weren't very complicated with.

He avoided the occupied stool. Sitting on ghosts was rude.

"Hello, Thor."

"Stark," Thor greeted him, and if there was a silent 'other' before that 'Stark,' who was to know? "Good evening. May I take your order?"

He'd been called worse than other!

"I'll try whichever you like best," Stark told him. "Of your specials for tonight."

Thor considered the options for a moment. "I must confess I am not particularly partial to any of them," he allowed, "but 'tis May Day, if that would suit?"

"That's fine. I don't think I've ever tried any of them or at least i don't recognize the names."

Stark paused. "Is today another holiday then? One i don't know?" There were so many here!

"Oh, hey, Stark!" Once he spotted him, Gladio, grinning, went to join him. "Glad you could make it. How's it going? Not too sore from Tuesday, right?"

If he was, he might get a lecture about proper warm-ups and cool-downs and muscle care.

"I'm fine." Someone was going to need to take that word away from Stark sometime soon.

"Not too sore. Just a little." Mostly his hand and arm from hitting a bag. "I was trying not to get hurt."

"Yeah, generally, most people try not to," Gladio snorted faintly. "If you're going in intending to get hurt, you're probably doing it wrong. But what're we drinking? On me, too, remember."

Sometimes you hurt yourself to distract from other hurts, Gladio! But that wasn't Stark's plan. He was just trying to keep himself from thinking too much.

"Something strong?" He said with a shrug. "I tried a May Day but that could be much stronger. What do you usually order?"

"I'm pretty easy," Gladio said with a shrug. "I usually get something on the specials board or a beer or two. Used to always try to get something blended back when Annie was bartending, but that was just so she could use her powers to on the blender. Maybe something with whiskey, though? Let's see if Tiny has any recommendations."

He was Gladio's Third Favorite Bartender, after all.

Did Gladio have definitive rankings of all island bartenders and was Tino dead last?

"Whiskey can be good." Sometimes it burned and that would be fine with Stark. Feeling things was good!

"Wednesdays i usually try one of everything..."

Tino didn't even make the list. And, really, there were currently only three people on that list, since Gladio didn't really know many of the other ones well enough to give them a ranking.

So he entrusted Tiny to treat the two of them right with a good, solid whiskey drink, and while that was being prepared, he lifted a brow at Stark. "One of everything, huh? Now that's dedication right there."

"Foolishness, maybe," Stark suggested. "Not everything every week but often. Unless it's something truly terrible and then I try not to."

And maybe he'd have to make some changes there. He hadn't decided yet.

"It's... habit now. I've been doing it so long."

"Yeah," Gladio agreed, nodding to Tiny as he brought around the drinks and he picked one up. "I bet. And, well....it's Summer. She'd probably be pretty disappointed if you didn't by now, too, huh?"

"I'm not sure disappointed is the right word."

Maybe after the last 2 bouts of awkward she'd be relieved if he skipped a week. Who could say, really?

Stark shrugged and picked up his drink. "She'd notice if I weren't there. I think."

Now both brows lifted.

"You think?"

"That wasn't fair of me," Stark said. "Sorry. No. She'd notice. I'm not sure that she'd mind right now. Things are...different. Odd. Maybe not as odd as they feel but they've changed and I'm..."

Confused? Processing? Unsettled? Awkward AF?

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The Devil's Nest, Thursday Evening

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