Party: 2 of 3
Foggy Nelson
“Jen,” Foggy said to his fellow lawyer and superhuman friend. He tried his best not to enjoy what the very sheer black gown she was wearing did for her figure. “Did the God of Thunder invite his fellow gods?”
Jen looked at Foggy, then at the two men he was staring at. “Who, Fandral and Volstagg?”
“Which is which?”
“Fandral is the pretty one.”
“And once again, I die inside,” Foggy teased.
Jen punched him lightly, which still made him want to cry at the pain, just a bit. “Dummy,” she chuckled. “And Volstagg is the big one. Guess he took a break from getting his butt kicked at Smash Bros. I think the others are around somewhere.”
Fandral was flirting with a waitress, the blonde and dashing Asgardian crooning to the blushing brunette. Volstagg was speaking very seriously with a bartender, who began pulling out drinks and offering them to the massive man.
“What would that make it, the fourth or fifth time today?” Matt asked, walking up to join them with a large smile on his face. “What are you guys talking about?”
“The gods in our midst,” Foggy said. “Thor invited his friends.”
“Well, that is his prerogative,” Matt noted.
“Yeah… let’s go meet them!” Foggy declared, moving forward immediately.
“Wait, what?” Matt asked.
“Come on!” Jen pulled at Matt’s arm, dragging him along.
“Guys, I’m not sure if we should,” Matt said wearily.
“Ah, live a little,” Foggy chuckled.
He quickly slid alongside Volstagg, grinning up at the big man. “Hi there!”
Volstagg looked down at him. Foggy suddenly realized what a mistake this might have been. Volstagg was big. The Asgardian stared down at Foggy. Foggy gulped. Volstagg grinned.
“Good day, Midgardian! How do you fare this evening?!” Volstagg said. Boisterously. If Foggy could ever describe ‘boisterous’, then this man was the living embodiment.
“I fare pretty good!” Foggy said with a grin. “I’m Foggy Nelson, this is Jennifer Walters!” Jen nodded at Volstagg. “And this is Matt Murdock!” Matt took a seat with some difficulty, folding his cane up. “We’re attorneys-at-law, and-”
“You are a servant of the devil?!” Volstagg asked, shocked. Foggy didn’t even have time to be finished getting surprised as hell. “Thor told me of the evils your kind, the attorneys of Midgard, have caused!”
“Well, more like the best friend of the devil,” Matt joked.
“I am not a servant of the devil,” Foggy said very carefully, eyeing the suspicious superhuman. “We help people fight other attorneys if anything!" Volstagg didn't look convinced. He also looked very, very big. "And,” Foggy pulled at Jen’s arm, moving the amused green woman in front of him. “While my superstrong friend protects me, I’d like to explain why.”
“Super-strong and beautiful,” Fandral appeared out of nowhere, smiling confidently. “Milady, that dress is truly beautiful. It highlights your assets so well.”
He made no attempt at hiding where his eyes went.
“Dude,” Foggy said, sickened.
Jen rolled her eyes and placed a hand on Fandral’s face, pushing him back. “Back up Robin Hood.”
Fandral grinned, not the least dismayed.
“Please, do not judge my weedy friend overly harshly,” Volstagg said, clapping his friend on the back with a loud boom of sound. “He does not have the gift of a strong and loving wife.”
“Ah, but with one such as you, milady-” Fandral began to say to Jen.
Jen laughed, cutting him off. “Man, you really are a horndog.”
“If that is an insult,” Fandral smirked. “Then it is a shame that lips of such beauty turn even the most heated of words to cool breath on a scorching summer's day.”
“Daaaaaaayum,” Jen mumbled.
“But, if you wish me to stop, I will,” Fandral said, leaning back. “I am not one to make a woman uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“I’ll bet,” Jen said with a smirk.
“So you are all friends?” Volstagg asked, confused. “I was led to believe Lady Walters was an Avenger?”
“I am,” Jen said. “But I’m also a lawyer. We all work to help people in New York to understand the law.”
“Help the helpless and do it for free!” Foggy crowed.
“Well, free for the people we help,” Matt noted. “Mr. Schahed actually pays us quite a lot to have us do pro bono work for the city. We've been doing some small claims work mostly, but we're also planning to do some rather interesting work in superhuman law as it pertains for everything from damages to law enforcement.”
“Ah,” Volstagg nodded. “I understand.”
“You do?” Fandral asked.
The bearded redhead froze. “...Well, no. B-But I get the gist!”
Foggy grinned. Huh. Volstagg was his kind of guy.
“So, what are you drinking?” Foggy asked.
“Bah!” Volstagg stared at his mug of beer. “Water, apparently! Midgardian beverages are so much weaker now.”
Matt chuckled. “Well, considering that I can smell what you’re drinking from here, that’s quite a statement.”
“Well, just look at it,” Volstagg held the drink out to Matt.
Foggy and Jen winced. Matt just had the look of someone who was both amused and bit sad all at once.
“Sorry, uh,” Foggy pulled the drink in Volstagg’s hand down. “Matt is blind, actually.”
Volstagg and Fandral stared at him, horrified. “Ah,” Volstagg frowned. “If you don’t mind, how-”
“Did it happen?” Matt finished.
Volstagg nodded.
“He uh, he nodded. Volstagg, I mean,” Foggy explained. Volstagg looked confused, then cringed.
“Well,” Matt leaned against the bar. “When I was a kid, about nine, maybe? I saw an old man standing in the street. A truck, uh, you know what that is?”
“Yes,” Fandral answered, looking very serious.
“Well, a truck came barreling toward him. The driver, he had some sort of… Anyway, I jumped toward the old man, pushed him out of the way. And the truck’s contents spilled off the truck when it crashed.”
Foggy hated this story. Matt did too.
“And the contents it was carrying were caustic chemicals,” Matt took off his glasses. “They got poured into my eyes. And the last thing I got to see was my dad looking down at me, terrified.”
"...you never told me about that," Jen whispered.
“He never tells anyone that story,” Foggy mumbled.
“I told you,” Matt pointed out.
“After forever.”
Matt didn’t disagree.
“That is quite the story,” Volstagg said. He sounded respectful. “The Allfather is sometimes called ‘Odin One-Eye’. Long is the story told of how he gave up his eye for knowledge and vision beyond what he’d once had. For you to do the same with both your eyes, however unintentionally, to save a life is-”
“Heroic,” Fandral lifted his glass. “A worthy feat, young man. I salute you.”
“As do I! Come, Foggy, Son of Nel! Matt, son of Murdock!” Volstagg slapped the table. “Barkeep! Bring me-”
“Ah,” Foggy stopped him. “Let me. I bet I can get you drunk.”
“Oho?!” Volstagg grinned. “That would be quite the feat!”
“Trust me,” Foggy stared at the wall of alcohol, eyeing it with more seriousness than it actually required. “I was raised in Hell’s Kitchen. I know how to get drunk.”
“Indeed?” Volstagg asked. “A daunting challenge, to survive Hel’s Kitchen!”
“You have no idea.”
“Hey, Foggy,” Matt said, rising. “I’m gonna take a raincheck. But it was nice to meet you both.”
“And you as well, Murdock,” Volstagg said politely.
“As for me,” Fandral chuckled. “Since the beautiful Lady Walters has politely rebuffed my advances, I shall try my luck elsewhere.”
“Giving up so easy?” Jen teased.
“Well, if you want-”
Jen laughed. “I’m kidding. Go break some hearts, you gorgeous-assed man.”
Fandral laughed, walking away.
“I, in the meantime, am going to drag my cousin to the dance floor. Later fellas!” Jen walked away and soon had the massive form of her cousin dancing with her and Betty Ross, the three laughing. With the booming laughter of the Hulk joining in with the rock band on stage, Foggy had a drink with Volstagg, a big grin on his face.
-----
Steve Rogers/Captain America
Steve watched the stage from a couch as he listened to the music, nodding his head up and down all the while, his arms stretched out as he relaxed. Something about the song, the lyrics, really resonated with him.
Sif, who had chosen him to hang out with, seemed just as enamored by the song.
The singer on stage was a young woman with red hair and clothes far more in line with what Steve was used to, with those playing the instruments behind her wearing similarly dated clothing. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that… homesick, maybe.
Sif leaned over, drawing his attention. “This is quite good,” she whispered to him. “Is such music common in Midgard?”
“It was in my time,” Steve explained.
“Your time?” Sif seemed confused before realization dawned. “Oh yes, Thor has told me of your struggles,” he winced. She had the grace to look apologetic. “My apologies. I… cannot say that I understand, entirely. To my people, the time you spent frozen is but a blink of an eye. But for you, it was-”
“A lifetime,” Steve said.
“...You do not need them, I think, you do not seem a man in need of pity,” Sif said. “But you do have my sympathies, Captain Rogers.”
Steve eyed her. She simply looked back at him earnestly. He was about to speak when someone joined them.
“Enjoying yourself?” when Steve looked up, Coulson stood there in his usual professional suit.
“Phil!” Steve grinned.
“Son of Coul!” Sif added.
Steve and Sif looked at each other, surprised. “You know Phil/Son of Coul?” they asked each other.
Coulson chuckled a little self-consciously. He gestured to the seat next to Steve questioningly. Steve moved aside, giving him room. “I met Steve when he first became an Avenger, remember?” he said to Sif. When she let out a little noise of recognition, Coulson turned to Steve. “As for Sif, I helped her stop a rogue Asgardian, a woman by the name of Lorelei who was mind controlling men on Earth.”
Ah, right. Steve had forgotten.
“And I once again thank you for your aid in that endeavor,” Sif bowed slightly, getting a bow in return.
“So, how you liking the band?” Coulson asked the pair.
“I like them,” Steve replied. “I mean, they’re making me feel a little homesick, but the lyrics are different enough from music in my time that it doesn’t hurt.”
“Post-Modern Jukebox,” Coulson said. When Steve and Sif looked confused, he explained. “That’s the name of the group. They’re a band that does more modern music in old school styles. I can send you a link to listen to them if you’d like?”
“Sure,” Steve said, pleased.
“Hm. I wish I could partake as well,” Sif mused.
“Well, whenever we finally get an internet cable to stretch to Asgard, remind me to send you the link,” Coulson teased.
Sif laughed. “I will remember that, Son of Coul.”
A loud sound brought their attention up. Fandral, Sif’s blonde friend, was on the ground. Melinda May, a member of Coulson’s team that Steve recognized as a damn good fighter, stood over the surprised Fandral with her arm outstretched. For a moment, everything got very tense.
Fandral’s lips moved, though Steve couldn’t hear it. Fandral was definitely smiling though.
After he spoke, May surprised everyone by smiling and laughing. She turned and walked away. Fandral didn’t seem to mind, just rising up to his feet and chuckling while rubbing his chin with a wince.
Coulson and Steve looked over at Sif, who was rubbing her forehead, eyes closed in annoyance. When she opened her eyes and saw them waiting for an explanation, she gave them the look people with embarrassing friends the world over always gave, sighing in annoyance.
In the meantime, the musicians on stage switched out. Soon, a large man was joined by a small group of bagpipers and men carrying traditional looking drums on their backs. The large man was Asian, wearing clothes of a traditional red design. He sat on a chair with a box-shaped string instrument and one of those long sticks used to play the violin.
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The man began to sing, a haunting and booming song. Sif listened, fascinated, as the bagpipers and drummers joined in, and the man played his string instrument.
“His name is Batzorig Vaanchig,” Coulson said simply. “A Mongolian throat singer. A carrier of an ancient tradition.”
“I really must find some way of sharing the music of my people as well,” Sif said quietly. “The music of Midgard is quite impressive now.
Coulson smiled as proudly as though he had made the music himself.
----
Matt Murdock/Daredevil
Matt sighed as he finally found some room to himself. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here.
He thought it would be fine. He’d been to parties after all. Lots of them, actually. They took a bit to get used to, the combination of noises, scents, and flavors all floating on the air, but no more than a crowded park. Nothing he hadn’t faced before.
Except, few of the parties he’d been at before had so many superhumans. Scratch that, none of the parties he’d been to had superhumans.
He could feel trace amounts of radiation from Hulk and Jen, massive amounts of power from Tony Stark’s chest, the odd scent carried by the Asgardians, Mahmoud’s strange scent that seemed to blend all the smells of his different aliens, as well as the strange way Mjolnir and the Omnitrix seemed to affect him.
Honest to god, these days Matt could sense Hulk, Jen, Thor, Tony, and Dial wherever they went. Well, it wasn’t that bad actually, since he had to actually work for it most days, but it was still there.
Someone walked up to him. Matt carefully didn’t move, despite the person he sensed knowing about his ‘unique’ abilities.
“Hey there, sailor,” Natasha said, joining him.
“Hey,” Matt returned, turning to face his ear toward her. “Hell of a party.”
“Well, it’s weird, that’s for sure,” Natasha said, the sound of her face muscles indicating an upturning of her lips. Despite his powers, Natasha was always so quiet. She somehow required his full focus to track with his senses. Even Elektra hadn’t been so elusive.
“I imagine so,” Matt replied. “The uh, the party being weird, I mean.”
Natasha chuckled. “Why so awkward, Mr. Murdock? I thought you had some experience with women.”
“A little,” Matt admitted, knowing full well Foggy would have laughed his ass off. “But I find myself a bit overwhelmed. Parties like this are hard for a man of my circumstances to go through, at times.”
“Oh?” Natasha seemed intrigued, leaning toward him. “Now that is interesting.”
“Is it?” Matt smirked. “You know, I have to say, I really thought a woman like you would be here with someone.”
“You’re not with me?” she teased.
His smirk deepened. “Depends on how you feel about it.”
Her response was a little hum. He wished, for the millionth time in his life, that he had his vision back. Just to see her face.
“Do you,” Matt coughed, straightening his back. “Do you want to dance?”
“Not really,” she said. She laughed when he slumped, just the slightest bit. “I have the feeling you’d have to step on my shoes a few times, to save face. And I like my shoes.”
Matt laughed, an honest laugh. “That’s, that’s fair. Mean, but fair.”
“I’m a superhero now, mean but fair is how I live my life,” she leaned towards him just a bit, crossing one leg behind the other. “How about we stay up here? And just talk.”
Matt Murdock folded up his cane. He wasn’t going anywhere for a bit.
----
Mahmoud Schahed/Dial
“I don’t like doing it!” Creel complained as we stood by the bar.
Skye, who had joined us a little bit ago, laughed. “Oh come on, you’re gonna look awesome!”
“Yeah, you’ve got to do it at least once!” I agreed, having to shout over the music.
“It’s dumb,” Creel shook his head, looking bemused.
“You kidding? It’s gonna be awesome!” I gestured to the golden vase we were standing next to, one of the many bits of bling that Tony had in the apartment.
Creel sighed. “...Okay, but just this once!”
“Yes!” Skye cheered as Creel took his shirt off. “Take it off, take it off!”
“Making this more awkward than it has to be,” Creel grumbled to himself. He reached out for the golden vase. A second later, the color began to flow over his arms. People started to notice as the gold flowed across his abs, pecs, and bald head before going to the other arm.
Soon enough, Creel stood as a titan of pure gold, and the light shone against his skin. He grumbled slightly at the cheers that followed, though I could tell he was laughing on the inside.
“There is a joke about bling in here somewhere, I swear,” I said, getting a laugh out of Creel. “Why do you hate being gold so much, anyway?”
“Because I’m weak and heavy as hell,” Creel grumbled. “I can’t do anything like this.”
“But you look amazing,” Skye teased, taking a picture of him.
“Sure, I look awesome and changing feels great no matter what,” Creel put his shirt back on while letting go of the transformation. “But gold is dumb. It’s soft, it’s heavy but not strong… I hate this form.”
I thought of Walkatrout, the alien I hated most from Ben 10. The worst alien, worse than worst. Screw Walkatrout.
“I never thought of that,” Skye noted.
“I mean, if I want to be useful bling,” Creel reached into his pocket. Slowly, he began to shift again. When he was done, the man was made entirely of shiny diamond. He smiled at the looks on our faces as the light shone across his brilliant form.
“Diamondhead is better,” I grumbled.
“Shh,” Skye mumbled, taking another photo. “Don’t ruin this.”
----
Skye and I ended up alone a while later, Creel having gone to find Isabelle. Just me and Skye next to the bar. We looked at each other for a moment.
And I had no idea what to say.
“...Been awhile?” she said.
“Yeah, yeah, been a bit,” I replied awkwardly. “Been busy, lately.”
“Same,” she ran a hand through her hair. “Been doing a lot, with Coulson and everything.”
“That’s nice.”
“...You’re not going to ask about it?”
I blinked. “I… I mean, I already know, since I read the reports from Coulson all the time. You guys haven’t had any luck finding HYDRA or Ulik so far?”
“Uh, no,” she admitted. She sighed sadly.
“...I’m sorry,” I said at last.
“Me too,” she mumbled. “I miss Trip.”
I nodded. “Trip was always cool. Sharon too.”
“It’s just hard to enjoy this as much as I want to,” Skye looked over at the party. “It feels like we’re betraying them.”
“We aren’t!” I protested. “If we gave up on them, sure. But we aren’t. We’re just human. We’ve been fighting and working almost every day since January. If we didn’t do this we’d just crap out. Lose our ability to
help.”
Skye spun to look at me, her pink dress flowing around her knees. She shook her head. “You say that. But I think you’re trying to convince yourself, too.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it, sighing. “That’s… damn it.”
“Yeah,” Skye shook her head.
“...I was going to ask you out,” I said finally. Skye looked over at me. “A while ago. But things just kept coming up.”
She smiled sadly. “You should have. I might have said yes.”
“You want to go out with me?” I asked. “I mean, I can probably take you anywhere in the world. We could have dinner in China, then fly out to an island in the Pacific? I've got pull around here.”
Skye smiled weakly. Which wasn't a good sign. She seemed to think about it for a while. Then Skye shook her head. That… damnit, that really hurt. “I want to. But I want to focus on my training, with May, Tony, my armor.”
“You could train and go out with me at the same time?” I tried not to sound whiny, which we all know is the best way to end up sounding whiny and pathetic. I felt it, anyway.
“I can’t,” Skye sighed. “Last time I tried to do something like that, it was with Ward. And that didn’t end well.”
I leaned back, struck. She winced. “I-I didn’t mean,” she stammered. “I know you aren’t Ward.”
“I’m not,” I said weakly.
“I just need time,” she crossed her arms. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine… I mean, it’s not,” her turn to give a hurt look. “I’m being honest. It sucks. I understand. I get it. But it sucks.”
“Sorry,” she said.
“Me too,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Friends?”
Skye didn’t seem satisfied with that, but she nodded anyway.
Damnit. Over a dozen superstrong aliens at my disposal and I still couldn’t get the girl. Maybe it was selfish, but I very quickly got away from Skye after that. Just needed a bit. I went to the one guy who could make me forget my problems better than anyone on Earth.
But first, I noticed Thor and Jane talking with some guy.
----
Thor Odinson/God of Thunder
Thor and Jane went up to the buffet tables together. He looked down at Jane as she put some fried shrimp on her plate. “Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah,” Jane smiled up at him. “Everyone has been so great, and Bruce and Betty have been so helpful for my research!”
“Have you spoken with Stark?” Thor eyed the Oriental table, which was really ‘tables’ that were dedicated to various cultural foods of Asia.
“Yeah,” Jane shrugged. “He offered me a job, again. I might take it, what do you think?”
“I do not know,” Thor walked up to the man who was apparently taking care of the tables. “I…” he thought for a long moment. “I respect Stark.”
“You uh, you hesitated there.”
“He is a great warrior and inventor, and has much regard for those of intelligence,” he continued. “But you know best. If you believe it will help in your research, and I do believe it will, then I will respect your decision.”
The man in charge of the tables turned as Thor waved to him politely. “Excuse me, sir, do you have some more of this, ‘muuushu pork?’ I quite liked it.”
“I can tell, young man,” the man said, turning around. Thor immediately thought of the elders on Vanaheim, Hogun’s people. He had a long white wispy beard, the only amount of hair he had as his head was cleanly shaven. He wore an apron over a very nice suit of a dark green color with an interesting pattern. He smiled at the massive pile of food on Thor’s plate. “I do believe you and your friends have come close to cleaning me out.”
Thor blushed while Jane chuckled. “My apologies, good sir-”
“No need,” the man chuckled. “It is good to see you young people enjoying my food. The same to you, young lady.”
Thor smiled. “I do not mean to cause any shame, good sir, but as an Asgardian, I may well be thousands of years older than you.”
The man smiled. For just a moment, Thor was reminded of his father. “Ah. My mistake.”
“Hey, Thor, Jane,” Thor turned to look at the speaker and smiled at the sight of young Mahmoud. The shapeshifting human looked as though he had encountered some hardship, but he still managed to walk up to them with a nod. “What’s up?”
“Just grabbing some food and talking to…” Jane blinked, surprised. “I’m so sorry, I forget to get your name.”
Thor felt a deep sense of shame. “Good sir, I am so sorry, I-”
“No need, young man, no need,” the man waved off Thor’s concerns. “It was my shame, for not introducing myself. My name is Mr. Foom, owner of the restaurant, Gǔlóng.”
Mahmoud’s smile fell and he immediately turned and started walking away.
“M-Mahmoud?” Thor asked, surprised by the sudden rudeness of his usually polite young friend.
“This party has been fun as hell, depressing, and weird as hell all at once,” Mahmoud mumbled to himself, simply leaving down the stairs as Mr. Foom, Thor, and Jane watched in confusion.