Log:Independence Day, 2063

2013/07/04 	 Bard Himinglaeva Porter American Dream Fynn Scrapper Fox Forge Sigi 1

7-04-2013 7:53:40 PM

Bridgend 

''Bridgend is an upmarket coastal stretch, between the port to the north and the yacht club to the south, where several main roads meet: Golden Sands Road from the southwest, Ming Street from Chinatown, Bridge Road from Sandy Bottoms Island, and Wharf Street, running roughly parallel to the shore. Some more prominent businesses have warehouses here, but expensive houses and nice cafes, restaurants and shops are more common. The spectacular arch of the bridge to the island guarantees these businesses always have a good tourist trade. ''

Bridgend is a place where folks coming and going from the beaches and coming and going from the town area can meet up. On the 4th, it's a lot more crowded. This confuses Himinglaeva. She understands some of the Midgardian traditions and holidays, but this one is new to her. However, the plethora of flags and decorative patriotic stuff tends to stand out. So it is that she stands upon a nearby rooftop. The gym's roof actually, hands on hips in her fully clad... *ahem* bikini adorned state, just staring at the bustling people below.

Of course, she gets some stares, and some folks who were in a rush to get someplace are suddenly in much less of a rush. But she doesn't want to show her ignorance by actually -asking- what is going on. Boy is she in for a shock once fireworks start. She might think it's some supervillain attack!

Flying in towards the gym of all places is MARCUS BARD. LAst time he saw the watery woman he could not fly, so when he realize who the bikini clad female is he perks a brow. "Been a while since you've shown up, Himi." He states casually landing atop the building. Guitar on back and fedora on head. he draws out a pair of rose colored glasses and sets them on the tip of his nose pushing them up into place. "What's new?"

Porter keeps some distance from the gym, and doesn't really even look in its direction. A shame, considering the view on top of it. He also stays away from any quantity of fireworks and anyone wielding a pointy object. This means that he stops well short of most things and manages to find or make a relatively bare spot at the edge of the crowds across the street from the gym.

Fynn has never been much of a fan of the fourth, seeing it is not much more than an excuse for people drink too much alcohol and end up getting themselves in trouble. And the crowds don't make it any easier for him as he floats over head, towards the gym. "Maybe everyone will be too busy to be at the gym and I can finally find it unoccupied." Several times he floats down to the people, handing out small animals carved from stone to children before continuing on his path. Position himself as he land on the roof, to keep from looking directly at the goddess he waves. "Guess the gym is even busy today."

The sound of a large motorcycle engine is heard. Through the traffic, usually going along with it and occasionally cutting through between vehicles to make headway using the natural agility of her generally smaller vehicle, the woman people could recognize as American Dream makes her way to where the celebrating will be taking place. She's dressed as usual, mostly, having traded her white cargo pants for cut-off jean shorts that are cut off so high that they're more bikini bottoms, and with her star-spangled banner blouse tied, up high enough to expose her midriff -- and she's also without the cape she usually sports. She's not wearing a helmet, but does have mirrored sunglasses over her eyes.

Well, the curiosity of the day, and also the fact that Himinglaeva really didn't know enough about Bard to realize that his ability to fly was all new and shiny... keeps her from commenting on it. "These mortals." she says to Bard as he inquires about what's new. "They.. seem especially worked up, energetic. More than on other days. What be the significance today?" she asks him. And then...

Fynn's arrival, floating along, likely gets some odd looks from parents, not wanting a stranger, let alone a flying one, near their children. But just the same, as he reaches the gym and makes that comment, she shrugs, "I would not know. I have yet to enter the gym. I was busy observing these mortals." She gestures, conveniently to the star spangled Dreamy one as an example of the ones below.

Scrapper flies in from Sandy Bottoms island, her new outfit fluttering in the wind. She smiles when she spots Bard and the big bikini lady and pauses to hover a bit.

 Scrapper says, "So, Marcus, who are you trying to match-make this one to?"

"It's Independence Day." Bard answers Himi. "Many years ago on the forth of July, a group of representatives of the early USA got together to throw off what they viewed as shackles of an oppressor." Bard answers. "We celebrate this day each year, by drinking and setting off explosives." He nods to Fynn. "Granted I don't drink, no tolerance for the stuff."

 Bard says, "Care to meet a 'deity'?"

American Dream pulls into what little bit of a parking spot is left by two cars that're all but double-parked, leaving just the right amount of room for her motorcycle. Killing the engine and pushing down the kickstand, she dismounts her bike... and unties the knot that's over her belly-button, pulling the blouse open... to reveal she's wearing a red bikini top underneath it. This, of course, gets looks from many people... men stopping for a good look... women stopping for a good look... women elbowing their men who're getting a good look... men elbowing their men who're getting a good look... etc, etc, etc. The bleached blonde woman can't help but notice the looks she gets, but clearly doesn't seem to mind. In fact, from how she all but makes a show of bending over to stuff the blouse into one of the lockable storage compartments on the bike, she's enjoying being looked at.

Porter's participation in the celebration appears to be avoid most of the participation. Several flying forms heading for the gym do draw his attention up that way, but then his eyes drop back down the the red, white, and boo..er, blue that shows up via the motorcycle. Lucky for him, there's no woman next to him.

"Yes, she is definitely something nice to look at as are you." Replies Fynn, doing his best to not actually look at either. "I've never drank and I think it only causes problems." He's back to looking like a vagrant for his intended workout at the gym, no sense in ruining new clothes.

 Scrapper says, "I get enough ego from my fiancee and you... there is a tolerable upper limit."

 Bard says, "Himinglaeva, Norse goddess of tides... if I recall correctly."

 Bard says, "Now stop being rude, and hovering in a skirt above people. There are children down there."

 Scrapper says, "I know I did not forget the shorties, thank you."

Scrapper flies in and lands behind Porter. A purple tendril snakes around his front and firmly pushes his mouth closed. "See anything you haven't seen in the Steel Gym ladies room?" she asks teasingly.

"Ah, finally, someone -not- as prudish as the rest of this land!" exclaims Himinglaeva as she points to the now bikini top clad woman. "And I see, so you celebrate when you forged this nation by the blade. That.. is a glorious thing to celebrate. I shall join the festivities! Had I known, I would have brought casks of mead from the last batch my sisters and I brewed!"

She shakes her head and sighs, "You should drink and celebrate my friend. If you prefer however, to use the gym, then I shall personally go within and insure that you get to."

Porter is corrected about the woman next to him... but at least he doesn't get elbowed? He turns to Scrapper while not turning red. "That was an accident, and I didn't see anything, anyhow..." He smirks. "Wrong place and wrong time."

Bard looks over the edge down at American Dream. "Hmm." He thinks to himself looking at her. "I wonder why she's in Colonial bay... Likely a promotion, I suppose." He shrugs and returns to his conversation. "Not as prudish... well if you insist." Bard begins to take his shirt off. "also we forged it by legal documentation and bullets. Combined with guerrilla tactics and a fight then flight attitude."

Scrapper says to Porter, still smirking, "That happens to you a lot."

Bard is clearly visible from the edge though.

Scrapper glances Bard's way and rolls her eyes.

 Scrapper says, "Is it really that easy to get your shirt off?"

 Bard says, "Girl you jelly."

Scrapper retracts the purple tentacle from Porter's jaw and asks him, "So are you going to get her autograph? I'm sure you can find something for her to sign."

Down below, Holly Davidson (aka: American Dream) makes her way over towards where the local radio station's got a 'DJ booth' area set up, and digs some form of ID, attached to a lanyard, from one of her the back pockets of her cut-off jean shorts. She puts the lanyard around her neck, so that the ID dangles between and slightly below her chest... THEN walks up to the security guards who're keeping regular people away from the DJs, gesturing vaguely at the ID she just donned when they do their job and stop her. A few flustered moments later, they let her by to where the DJs are at.

Fynn looks at bard then points down at Dream. "You know who she is?" He shakes his head. "I'm not in any hurry but I'm curious how the simulation room works."

Bard replies to Fynn. "That's American Dream. A meta human mascot of Harley Davidson." Bard replies nonchalantly.

Bard adds. "Don 't know much more.

"No," Porter shakes her head. "I'd probably get trampled by the crowd... or she would..."

Bard states. "By the way, hurry down to the DJ booth if you want beer, and can drink it legally. Dream boat just offered to buy people some Budweiser."

Bard adds, "also one of the gaurds thinks she had surgery to have a better bust. But that's beside the point."

Spying Scrapper among the persons in the general area, Fox leaps down from above, nearing her, waving to greet in her line of sight rather than sneaking up behind or above.

"As I said, 'by the blade' is a rather generic term." says Himinglaeva towards Bard with a roll of her eyes. "Though I am certain you knew what I meant and merely wished to hear yourself speak, so you elaborated upon semantics." She doesn't have a negative tone of voice as she says that, not condescending or critical. Simply observing. She turns to regard Fynn. "If you will not be using the gym. Then you should join the party." And that said, she simply steps off of the rooftop and starts to descend to street level. As she does, she raises her voice, "People of Midgard! This is a day of celebration! On this day... many years ago, you rose up and defeated your oppressors! You won liberty through force of arms! I salute you all and join in your celebration!" That said, she simply lands near to the DJ stand... no ID presented, and she starts to approach American Dream as if she belongs there, just kind of ignoring the guards for now.

Bard states. "Ooooh, someone might be interrupting mascot's big speeech~"

 Bard says, "care to test if I can send thoughts through the communicators that aren't mine?"

Bard looks to Scrapper then Fox.

 Scrapper says, "uhhhh, no."

"Hmm, that sounds familiar." Fynne rubs his chin, deep in thought while staring at Dream. "Maybe I don't spend enough time in towns to see the advertisements. She is a bit um....larger than life. Both of them."

Bard looks to Fynn then shrugs. . o 0 (To each their own. She does have a bum to die for though.)

Sigi carefully makes her way down from the MagLev station and stands somewhat anxiously at the periphery.

Holly (American Dream), starting to chat up the DJs, looks up at the loud voice that somehow carries over the din of the crowd... and actually serves to silence the crowd a little. Her eyes widen a bit at seeing the Asgardian goddess coming down. "It's okay boy", she then calls over to the guards. "She's one of the good guys, if you can believe the news! You really mind having another bikini to keep watch over, anyway?", waving her hands at them in a 'back off' sort of motion when the start over... and actually gets them to back down.

Security dealt with, Holly turns to look up at the Asgardian woman as she lands; Holly's the shorter of the two, though only by a few inches or so. "Hi, I'm Holly Davidson... American Dream", she says, sticking her hand out at Himinglaeva as she introduces herself. "Me and the guys", she adds, with a gesture to the DJs, "are about to kick off their radio show... it's gonna be sync'd with the fireworks that'll start up in a little bit."

Bard hops off the gym's top to land down on the street level. Drunk people stumble about him and some try to hug him but he avoids them fairly well.

Fynn shrugs and steps off the roof, walking down the air like a set of invisible steps to follow the others. "Might as well join in. Regan probably doesn't want to spend the day showing me how it works."

Sigi tries to struggle through the crowd to get to a drink vendor, wincing as her arm is jostled.

Scrapper pulls Porter behind her and walks over to Fox. She's intimidating enough that most move out of her way and strong enough that she doesn't really need to worry about the rest. As her reaches Fox, she picks up the smaller woman in a quick bearhug.

Well, shaking hands is not an unheard of greeting in Asgard. After all, one likes to be sure that the other person's hand is not carrying a blade... right? Himinglaeva accepts the grip of American Dream and gives a good shake of the hand. "Radio... I have heard of this. I heard sailors talk of how it was going to win a war for them not so long ago. But... pray tell, what is a DJ?" And then she pauses and adds, "Fireworks?" Her voice almost hesitant, as if making sure that it's not only the right word, but implying that the term concerns her.

Bard floats up behind Himinglaeva. "Disc Jockey, they play music on the Radio."

Bard states, landing. "Fire works are explosives that give off color. You launch them high into the sky so everyone can see without being hurt. Some do things beyond just exploding." He looks to American Dream and nods. "howdy." He then looks to the security gaurds, and nods.

"Yeah, fireworks! That's the best part! Al and Charlie, here, are gonna play the 1812 Overture over the radio, with the fireworks all sync'd up. It'll be cool, just like it always is!", Holly replies to Himi, though she shakes her hand a little all on its own after the goddess releases it, as if she just met up with a very firm handshake. "If you wanna fly around, hereabouts, and over the bay, you wanna stay either really low, or really high... wait... you've never seen fireworks before? Where're you from, anyway?"

 Scrapper says, "Are you hoping the security guard rule is 'if it flies, it is above my paygrade to throw out'?"

The fox-girl hugs Jo in return, "Hewwo," she utters cheerfully, looking around at the persons who seem to have gathered into a large gathering. "Big...party," she comments, somewhat inanely.

Sigi looks around trying to see if there's anyone she knows while she waits in line by the drink vendor.

When Bard lands down by Himi and herself, Holly looks a little puzzled. "He with you?", she asks of the sea-goddess, gesturing over at the man. He /did/ fly down from the same general direction as Himi, after all, and spoke to the woman as if he knows her.

Fynn if doing a good job of being somewhere between a wall flower and a puppy, following Bard around. Several times digs into his satchel, pulling out a small piece of carved stone, handing them out to anyone who recognizes him.

"Marcus Bard. Local Meta." Bard states to Holly. "She's just not used to most customs so I help her understand some of them." . o 0 (1812? REALLY? man that song is over used...)

Sigi gets her drink finally looks around again, focusing on Bard, trying to make eye contact.

Porter is stuck behind Scrapper... which isn't a horrible place to be. She cuts through the crowd easy enough, and that makes things easier. Standing behind her also prevents unexpected bearhugs? Or maybe she just saves those for certain people. When they stop, and the crowd seems to close back in, Porter looks around with visible concern and discomfort.

Scrapper ignores the glares from the people in her wake (she is not as intimidating as she likes to pretend she is) and she sets Fox back down. "I haven't seen Fourth of July fireworks since I was twelve. I'm hoping, unlike some other stuff, it is as cool as I remember. If not, I should be able to pump it up." She doesn't appear to notice Porter's concern.

"If they play music upon the waves of the air, then... why is their name not a reference to such?" asks Himinglaeva. She shakes her head, a bit confused. God, she wishes her Valkyrie companion hadn't been recalled. She would explain it in terms that Himinglaeva could understand. And then talk of explosives. "Um, is that not normally the sort of thing.. the explosives that is, which would be used to hurt people..." And then... back to Dream. "I know him, Marcus Bard, but I would not say... -with- me is appropriate. It appears that he followed me. Oh..." And Dream's question hits her, "Asgard, the shining eternal city."

Fox looks behind Scrapper at the nervous Porter. "Him... shy," she suggests, stating the obvious. She offers the man a smile, making it seem like it is very easy to befriend her with that expression along with her general body language. "Hi," she says toward him, going no further than she does to avoid overstepping boundaries.

Sigi frowns as she fails to get Bard's attention.

Scrapper sidesteps to get out of between Porter and Fox. When somebody else steps into the place she vacated, she frowns and considers the crowd, rising a few inches off the pavement to get a better view.

Holly (Dream) seems a little confused at Himi's reply to her question, but seems ready to shrug it off. Then Fynn follows Bard down. Still, she waves the guards back, once again. "Well, if you and your buddies wanna hang out here in the DJ area, that's cool... but y'all hafta hang back over closer to the cordon", she says, pointing at the simple rope-barrier that serves as the visible demarcation of where the crowd isn't allowed to pass. "We're gonna be starting the show in a couple minutes", she adds, even as one of the two DJs (who is very clearly distracted by Himinglaeva's looks) hands her a headset with an earbud and a microphone loop. Holly, as she receives the headset, actually pouts a little at that Charlie's looking at the sea-goddess.

 Scrapper says, "Wait till she sees Ten. :)"

Porter looks at the fox-girl that Scrapper bearhugged and smiles back easily enough. "Hey. I'm not shy, just ...complicated." It seems way easier to leave it at that instead of trying to explain himself just yet. "You having a good time with all this?" Scrapper moving and the crowd filling in forces him to step closer to her so he isn't speaking through anyone.

"Skald Bard, it appears as if there is someone trying to achieve your attention." offers Himinglaeva as she gestures towards Sigi. "And.. Cordon?" she asks. "Pardon?" she asks. Her reaction is visibly one that is -easy- to read. Without -saying- it, she projects the air of... you are telling -me- where I can stand?... almost incredulously. Her eyes narrow a bit and she doesn't care that she's being stared at, only that she is being told where she can and cannot -be-.

Bard states to himi. "It's a business thing. They don't want something happening up here unplanned. If you'd grace the crowd with your presence it'd be much advised. Or perhaps you'd like to meet my other friend?" Bard offers. "I'm certain they'd like to meet someone of such standing as yourself." He smiles to Holly. "I'll be on my way." He says but doesn't move. He does however attempt to read Holly's body language in interest of how she's handling all this.

"Hay Marcus, do you know her too? She's staring at you, although she's not the only one. The missing arm looked out of place." Fynn taps Bard on the shoulder and points over at Sigi. He looks up at the goddess, only to get a great view of her behind, his cheeks turns rosey and he quickly looks back down.

"Sorry... it's kinda the rules. Security'll probably try and kick you out, even if I said it's okay for you to be here, if you get in the way of the show, and I'd rather everyone just had a good time. Hey! I can get each of you a card for a free beer, if you want?", Holly says, mostly to Himi, as she pulls the headset onto her head and makes sure the earbud's well-set into her ear.... then, suddenly, rips the whole thing off her head. There's a squealing issuing from the headset's speaker that's audible even over the sound of feedback that's now issuing from the speakers that're set up near the table the DJ equipment's set up on. "OW!", she says. "Holy hell!"

The crowd seems incredibly displeased with the speaker squeal.

Fox nimbly steps through the closing persons to reach Porter, almost bumping into him. She shrugs slightly, "Not...bad," she responds slowly, though clearly, and her words are overenunciated. She laughs as someone experimentally picks up her tail, which slides out of their hands. "Am Vox!" she adds.

Sigi is bumped in her missing arm and drops her drink. Looks crestfallen.

"I don't fully recall her but yeah, let's investigate." Bard floats up and over towards Sigi. "Need a new drink?" He asks the one armed lady. "My treat."

Turns out, Himinglaeva is standing on one of the wires, and she's like... damp all the time, insulation was missing for just a portion of it. She feels the little buzz of a shock as the feedback happens. And it tells her precisely why she should not be here. "I see." She remarks, "I apologize then." And then she turns to reach for the free beer card before aiming towards Sigi. She'd already been looking at the young woman, and offers, "Mortal, allow me to replace your lost beverage."

 Bard says, "remind me to work on her not calling people mortal..."

Sigi blinks, "Um, hi Bard, and um, friend? Um, thank you, both." She leans toward Bard a little, "It's me, Pleiades. They let me out of the hospital as long as I stay places where their are a lot of heroes. I was going stir crazy in there."

"That makes it good, then," Porter grins at Fox and then chuckles when she explains the tail to someone curious. He takes a look, too, being a little curious, himself. Hopefully she doesn't take it the wrong way. "I can see that. Guess it took them a second to figure it out."

Out in the crowd, Malcolm Gibbs grabs his ears as a local news camera crew jostles past him. The boom mic may have just scraped over Malcolm in a way that, were he made of (let's just say) metal, you could get weird feedback. It just so happens to coincide with the feedback from up on stage. /HOW SUSPICIOUS/. Grumbling to himself, Malcolm shoulders and squeezes through the crowd in a surprisingly nimble way for such a big guy. He may be headed in the general direction of the collection of heroines and heroes by the stage.

The DJ who'd been staring (and still is, actually) at Himi presses several 'free beer' cards into her hand... he just picked up a bunch of the stop of the stack and handed them over. Meanwhile, the squealing of the speakers settles down, to the relief of the crowd, and Holly's given a new headset... not as fancy and lightweight as the other one was, but this one's not squealing and shorting out on her.

"Audio check... Test. One, two. Test. One, two", says Holly into her new headset's microphone. The non-staring DJ, Al, gives her a thumbs up and calls out, "Five minutes!"

Bard nods to Sigi. "Himinglaeva, Sigi, Sigi Himinglaeva." Bard states doing introductions. "I think some associates of a friend of yours and I had a disagreement lately. I'm glad to hear you're recovering though." He motions for another drink from the drink cart. With a commanding presence like his own, it doesn't take too long, and he pays. "People should respect people better, especially the ones at a disadvantage." . o 0 (she could KILL most people here but atleast make it seem like you're standing up for a handicapped lady.)

Fynn has seen entirely too many monster and villain attacks in his time and looks around nervously when the electronics act up. Some incredibly rude party goer instead draws his attention near Sigi. He flied over, tapping the map on the shoulder. "Hey, you should watch what you're doing and be more careful."

Sigi smiles gratefully, "Um, thanks Marcus. Nice to meet you Himinglaeva."

The fox-girl offers her hand to Porter. "Am Vox," she says again, grinning. "Name?" The tail is given further examination, and Fox seems to not mind at all the attention to her oddities. Fur, tail, large ears, no clothing (but not indecent), coloration, all make her visually easy to look at. And she seems to revel in that fact.

Bard waits for the fireworks to start and listens into what AD is saying if it's not broadcasted. "Don't mention it." bard replies to Sigi. "Also Himi, does my lack of shirt make you more confident everyone here is less prudish?"

Extending a hand with at least a dozen... free beer ... cards, Himinglaeva raises a brow. "I have these... " she offers, but she shrugs and shows one to a vendor, gets a beer and takes a sip. She grimaces a bit but shrugs, "This is... tolerable goat-piss." she remarks with a grin before turning back to Sigi.

"Well met!" she announces. You see, anyone who shows obvious wounds, scars, or the like, already has the respect of the Asgardian. It shows that they are warriors and bare their wounds proudly as trophies. "You are showing remarkable fortitude for having such a debilitating injury recently." she offers Sigi, gesturing towards the missing arm.

"Huh?" asks Himinglaeva towards Bard. "Your shirt? What does your lack of a shirt have to do with anything?" I mean, she spends time around Asgard, with gods... you know GODS. Sexy hunks of men like Thor, Baldr.

Porter straightens up and now feels a bit guilty. Here he's checking out her tail and hasn't even introduced himself. His cheeks redden some. "Er. Sorry. Porter. Hi." He takes the hand and gives it a tentative shake, as if worried it might break off, catch fire, or something else entirely.

Sigi smiles shyly at Himinglaeva, "Er, um, thank you. It still hurts a little, but I should have an appointment with a specialist soon to get it repaired, er, treated."

A Malcolm abruptly appears behind Bard and Himinglaeva, who he totally didn't almost type as Sigrdrifa, and reaches out to lightly clap Bard on the shoulder. "Trying to dim the quality of the fireworks show for the ladies, B-man?" jokingly inquires Malcolm.

Scrapper notices people flying above the crowd and decides to join them. Effortlessly, she scoops up Porter and Fox and also rises in the air over the crowd. Predictably, when a large group of metas gather in one place, the locals back up a bit, almost as if they expect something hazardous to happen. She smiles when she lands among more friends than she expected to find.

Holly's not saying much, nothing at all really, quietly waiting for the show to start. Finally, it does.

"Hello, Colonial Bay!", says one DJ, his voice on every radio in the area, and simultaneously on the speakers that're set up for the crowd's benefit. "I'm Big Al", he adds, then the other DJ chimes in with, "... and this is Charlie! We're here, in Bridgend, to bring to you the 2063 Independence Day 'Fireworks over the Bay' radio show. We have a special guest with us, today, representing this year's drink sponsor, Harley Davidson, Inc.... her name's Holly Davidson, and you might better know her as ... AMERICAN DREAM! Say hi, Dreamy!"

With that introduction, American Dream lifts into the air, an almost-yellow glow around her. One of her hands is upraised, and from that hand emit a flurry of energy bolts of the same sort of 'light' as the glow around her body. Her voice then comes over the air waves (but very keen eyes might be able to tell that the radio-audio is a fraction of a second behind what she actually says (as it was for the DJs, also), as she says, "Hello, Colonial Bay! Happy Independence Day!"

The crowd, having gone silent as the DJs opened it up, erupts in a cheer at American Dream's greeting... and then the music, the 1812 Overture, begins... and the fireworks, launched out over the bay from Sandy Bottoms Island in the distance, begin to go up in time with the music.

Fox enthusiastically shakes with both of hers, adding, "Can...wook," as she turns to give Porter a profile view. She could be doing so specifically for Porter's benefit, and or possibly firework observation.

"Hey, M. Money. You wanna be jealous of my body, feel free to." Bard strikes a pose, showing off those clean cut abs and fine swimmer's muscles. "I'm just cooling off from begin so Hatw~" He chuckles. "Nah, someone was complaining it was rather prudish, so I tried to make them comfortable to no avail."

"Oh, no, I was complaining that the land seems to think that baring the body is bad, but doesn't care that their children are allowed to watch entertainment involving the most gruesome deaths.. and the women seem to want to dress to be looked at, and take offense when men -do- look." Himinglaeva shakes her head, "There is no one part that is prudish. Your shirt being off just reminds me of what a self agrandizing sort you are my Skald."

She takes a sip of her beer and looks back to Sigi, her mouth opening as Holly starts her intro. Himinglaeva stares at the speakers then, amazed that the voice of the woman is coming from ... over there.

 Bard says, "You know you want some. Too bad It's taken~"

<Guard> Scrapper says, "I got some and he's both bigger and stronger than you, pretty boy."

Scrapper rolls her eyes at Bard's display as if she has been exposed to it far too often. "Hey Malcolm, she says with a smile."

Porter gets a vigorous handshake from Fox, and then he's grabbed by Scrapper and lifted off his feet. There's nothing like having two women trying to pull you in opposite directions... and this is still nothing like what he thought that might be like. "Whoa! Uh..." He looks around, then apologetically down to Fox, then at Scrapper curiously. "Where are we going?"

Sigi jumps a little as the fireworks go off.

It seems that Holly's part in the show was... just that. As the musical fireworks show begins, she lands, the glow fading from her body as she does, and removes the headset to hand to the DJs. She pauses to sign an autograph for one of them, too, before slipping back outside the roped-off area. She even removed and left behind the ID on the lanyard she'd been wearing while in there. In the air, the explosions really and truly begin, with the expected loud BOOMS that make the crowd "oooh!" and "aaaah!", and the bright colors, almost all of them reds, white, and blues, and mixtures of the three.

Out of the radio-show area, Holly passes by the nearest drink stand and, without anyone arguing it, goes right up to the head of the line... and receives a big styrofoam cup of soda, on the house. (Dr. Pepper, if anyone listened in on her ordering it.) Sipping at the drink through the straw, she starts back to where her motorcycle's parked, which of course takes her right to where the other metahumans are all gathered.

Porter gets a vigorous handshake from Fox, and then he's grabbed by Scrapper and lifted off his feet. There's nothing like having two women trying to pull you in opposite directions... and this is still nothing like what he thought that might be like. "Whoa! Uh..." He looks around, then apologetically down to Fox, then at Scrapper curiously. "Where are we going?"

Fox doesn't seem to mind being absconded with, into the next part of the place.

Ragnarok, at the edge of the crowd watches impassively.

"Oh... that is what is meant by.. fireworks." offers Himinglaeva as she looks skyward. The lights of the works tend to flare and reflect off of her hair and skin if one were to look closely. "Bard, my Skald. Behave yourself." she remarks. Heh, talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

Scrapper's eyes light up as the first firework soars into the sky, and smiles at the boom. At the second, her smile falters a little and by the third she looks both troubled and disappointed. "It was cooler when I was twelve," she mutters to those friends who notice her expression.

Fynn is surprised as a group of people fly over towards him as the fireworks start. They must be using them as a distraction for their attack and he raises and arm up defensively until he sees whey they are and waves the arm instead.

Bard States to Scrapper. "Everything is more fascinating when you're younger. Cherish them though. Remember them fondly." He smiles,stretching.

"Hey, Scrap. How's it going?" replies Malcolm, smiling cheerily. The tall man glances over at Bard and Himinglaeva, listening thoughtfully. "Mysteries of life, I guess," he offers as explanation to the goddess before patting Bard on the shoulder again. "Quit that. I don't want to get stampeded by a thousand swooning women," he laughs.

Holly walks up to the group, eying, of all people, Himinglaeva... though she does it with a little pout that she hides with the straw from her drink. She clearly doesn't like being 'outshined' that way. Still, when she gets closer, she says, "You guys all have fun, okay? I'm gonna go out closer to the shore and find a party to crash", even as she reaches over to sneak a pinch at Malcolm's backside. (Maybe she likes big, well-built black guys?)

Porter is deposited with Fox in the midst of others. That explains where they were going. At least Fox didn't go far. He looks up at the fireworks and watches a moment. When he looks back down and around, the first thing he sees beside the ladies next to him is Bard and his lack of shirt. Porter looks back up to see if something else shiny is exploding in the sky.

Ragnarok accepts a drink that is pressed into her hands. She nods in thanks and cautiously sips the beer.

Sigi stays close to Bard and the others, watching the show and listening to the music, clearly happy to be out and enjoying herself.

Straightening up a bit, Malcolm swivels his head as his butt gets pinched. "Sounds like a good plan," offers Malcolm, smiling at Dream, "Have a good time at whatever party you crash." About three seconds later, Malcolm realizes who happens to be in his vicinity.

Fox looks at the persons she is now near, leaning into Jo, smiling. She does this not out of shyness, but of demonstration of how comfortable she is in the situation of being among many persons. "Hewwo," she offers.

"Enjoy the party." says Himinglaeva to Dream as she is spoken to, but the goddess's eyes never leave the fireworks. She just... stares and inclines her head. Not speaking really.. and barely moving but to take a sip now and then from the goat-piss... er... beer.

Holly wanders off into the crowd. She gets stared at by various people as she goes, of course, and eventually gets lost to view as she makes her way farther over towards the shore.

Scrapper wrinkles her nose at the alcohol, but it is a poison she is long familiar with. Ignoring the fireworks, she looks around and finally spots Sigi. Noting the delicate way she is favoring that arm, she asks, "How long ago did that happen?"

Bard states. "Anyways, going go play security guard over at the artist's quarter. You all be safe, okay?" Bard smiles and starts to walk off. "Oh and malcolm..." he lips. 'go get ya some' to him before turning around and heading off the other way.

Sigi sblinks, "Um, about a month ago, I think?"

Scrapper nods, "Accident?"

Sigi shakes her head, "Um, no, a person with a sword attacked me."

"Hello Fox, Jo. And the rest of you that I do not know." Fynn leans back a bit watching Dream leave before turning to Himiinglaeva. "So, you're from Asgard? Like the viking place?"

"And so it begins again," mutters Malcolm to himself as Bard walks away. The tall man suddenly wishes he had some beer. Instead of getting on line, Malcolm just shakes his head a little bit and glances at the other metahumans in his general vicinity. Faintly canting his head, Malcolm eavesdrops on Sigi and Scrapper.

"Yes, the Viking place." offers Himinglaeva with a bit of a smirk. And then she tears her eyes away from the fireworks to look at Sigi, "A sword? I had thought swords were... not so popular anymore. Pray tell me the tale." Yep, vikings and their oral tradition.

Sigi smiles weakly, "Um, there's not much to tell. I was walking along, and she jumped out and hacked my arm off."

Ragnarok downs the beer in three gulps and gets another one.

Scrapper glances at Himinglaeva with surprise. "I use a sword, from time to time."

"I am a sword," comments Malcolm, "From time to time."

"They're not but some people still use them." Fynn points at the jagged scar, just above the elbow on his right hand. "I sort of understand how you feel. Fought a guy once that could make his sword burst into flames. Damn thing nearly took my arm off."

An image of bard appears, small, very much so, an on Himinglaeva's shoulder. "I use sound in the shape of swords." It says before poofing again and bard leaps atop the gym to get his shirt back. "Hey," Porter greets Malcolm and Himinglaeva, as the ones in the larger group he recognizes immediately. He just nods to the rest and stays quiet for now. There are some interesting stories being told, it seems.

Ragnarok, in the background purchases a bag of zeppolis. She eats them methodically, getting powdered sugar all over her face and hands.

"Well, then I stand corrected." offers Himinglaeva. She flails a hand at the image of Bard like swatting a mosquito. "I swear, I think the Skald is as enamored with himself almost as much as he wishes the rest of us were enamored with him. Reminds me of a handful of men back home who are far too pretty... to be handsome." She shakes her head, finishes her beer and says to Sigi, "It does you service... the way you bear the wound openly. I salute you warrior."

"Hey, Porter. How's it going?" replies Malcolm, smiling cheerily. Glancing over at Himinglaeva - and inadvertantly visually glossing over Ragnarok in the background in the process - Malcolm opines, "The mini Bards can be a pain, but he means well."

Fynn motions towards the severed arm. "I'm surprised that there's no one in the city that can fix that."

Sigi grins sheepishly, "Uh, thanks, I mean, I'm pretty upset about it, but I know they'll be able to reattach it eventually, so I'm not really being brave."

Sigi looks around, "Um, well, I have a rare gentic condition, um, that, er, means, I um, need, specialist, um, treatment."

"Re-attach?" asks Himinglaeva. She pauses and inclines her head, "The mystic healers must truly be able to work potent magics then!" she exclaims. "Even in Asgard, those who lose limbs outside of the warriors of Valhalla... are unable to regrow them." She looks... astounded. Ragnarok, in the background, discovers cotton candy. It's not entirely obvious if she's successfully eating it, or just getting entangled.

[To Himinglaeva] Scrapper says, "You should try having him as a big brother. He's convinced he's a good matchmaker too."

Fynn's eyes go wide at the shock of the goddess. "Not even with magic? Well. I'm not entirely convinced that magic is real but I would guess that it would be able to, it's magic afterall." He leans in close to Sigi, expecting to see something truly unnsual. "Don't we all?." He makes a sewwping gesture at those gathered. "I mean, Jo has this purple stuff in her. Fox is, well a fox. And she's a god." A nod is directed at Himinglaeva.

Sigi leans back a little, "Um, well, I, uh, that is, I um."

"The All Father gave up an eye to -learn- true magic. The gods are not sorcerers. Only Odin himself works such magic. And even he does not work -healing- magic. Tyr gave up his hand that Fenrir be bound, and to this day, has only his left hand." offers Himinglaeva. And then to Scrapper, she turns and says, "I have eight sisters. I need no brothers.. believe me."

Porter shrugs at Malcolm. "Nothing's exploded. Lately." He tosses in a smirk with the hesitant optimism. Unlike many in the circle and the crowd, he does not have a beer. This is probably intentional, with as many plastic cups as are floating around. He looks at Sigi and frowns some at the missing arm. Luckily, it sounds like it's not such a big deal. Also, he's pretty sure that he had nothing to do with it.

Ragnarok fist pumps as she defeats the evil cotton candy. The vendors seem amused by her, as they offer her a candy apple next. She bites into it, and then makes very odd expressions as she tries to open her mouth.

Fynn takes a step back and shrugs. "Don't worry about it, I was jsut expecting....well I don;t really know what I was expecting." His eyes narrow as he looks over at Himi. "Wait, this is all sounding very familiar. Almost like stories I heard when I was a kid. Fenrir is the wolf right, the one that's supposed to eat the sun or something like that? Was the hand part of some contract or agreement?"

"Aye, you may have heard tell of such tales. We have not hidden them away. In fact, a few brave heroes long ago were allowed to document our stories. Those were passed down apparently until modern day... they do exist still." offers Himinglaeva. "Fenrir, the great wolf, would not allow himself to be chained unless one of the gods placed a hand within Fenrir's mouth. Tyr agreed and lost his hand, but Fenrir... much to his own chagrin, was unable to -break- the chains as he thought he would be able to do."

Sigi nods, "The chains were Gleipner, right?"

"Oh, is that how you pronounce it?" asks Malcolm. He seems surprised at Himinglaeva's pronunciation of... Something Norse. The tall man may be trying to file this away as he vaguely notes Ragnarok battling a candy apple in the background. Malcolm nods thoughtfully, listening to the brief retelling of Tyr's be-handing.

"I thought that was a horse." Replies Fynn.

Scrapper says, "You thought what was a horse?"

Fynn turns to Scrapper "Gleipner."

Laughing softly, Himinglaeva shakes her head, "no, that is Sleipnir." She grins a bit and chortles, "Wait until my sisters and I gather to brew our next batch. I will have such tales to share for their amusement."

"I thought the chains were Greipnir?" comments Malcolm to Fynn.

Fynn only shrugs. "I don't know."

Ragnarok defeats the dastardly caramel apple. The vendors give a small cheer. One offers her an ice cream bar, which she bites into cautiously, then eats once she realizes it's harmless.

Fynn's lips pull into a broad smile as he turns to look at Himi, and quickly looks away. "I would greatly welcome the stories but not the alcohol. I have no need for food or drink."

Porter knows as much about Norse things as Unified String Theory... which is nothing. His attention drifts to the crowd around him. This includes a rather ...conspicuously dressed woman making a big impression with the food vendors. He casually oggles a bit while half-listening to the tales.

Ragnarok bows to the vendors and walks away from the crowd.

Fynn waves and starts floating. "I should be going. Don't like to be around so many people." He turns and flies away.