SUPER BARBECUE SUPER BARBECUE SUPER BARBECUE [open as heck]

[hugling]

Who: SUPER HEROES!!!!!
Where: Ernest E. Debs Regional Park!
When: Sunday!
What: SUPER BARBECUE
Warnings: Superheroes...



It's a pleasant evening at Ernest E. Debs Regional Park, just a couple miles from downtown LA, which can be seen through the haze. Late March means spring is just arriving in LA and the trees are just starting to bud. Unfortunately, the grass is still kind of dead and dry.

The barbecue and picnic area isn't too busy, though the park does have the usual assortment of joggers, dog walkers, and cyclists. There are some balloons tied to picnic tables, and strung between two trees is a very homemade "SUPER BBQ" banner, courtesy of Hulkling and Starbreaker. There's still glitter glue on Milly's apartment floor. There's another posterboard with the rules written on it in big bold sharpie letters nearby, just in case anyone forgets:

• Don't be a jerk!!!
• Keep your weapons holstered please.
• Do not trash the park!
• ABSOLUTELY NO FIGHTING
• Anyone caught fighting will be asked to leave!
• Really don't be a jerk!

[OKAY GUYS!!! mingle! have fun! maybe some THINGS WILL HAPPEN, whoooo knows!]

Comments

[squanderlust]

Meanwhile Severa just thinks the whole thing is dumb. She's been skulking around too, mostly keeping to herself and, at one point, spitefully eating a hot dog. Fancy meeting Longclaw here. She nods at him and slows to a stop. Maybe she'll hang out with him or something.

[hellacold]

He catches her eye and nods.

"Hey."

[squanderlust]

"Hey."

That's right, the peak of conversation going on here. She sidles a little closer to him, trying not to raise her voice too much.

"No weapons? I thought this was supposed to be fun."

[hellacold]

He ducks his head and laughs a little.

"The burgers are all right."

Good job Jon.

[squanderlust]

"I haven't had any. I'm already losing enough time in my schedule." She interlocks her fingers and stretches her arms upward. "I can't afford to do double time at the gym."

She lowers her arms and crosses them over her chest. "This seems like a terrible idea to you too, doesn't it?"

[hellacold]

He's not sure what to say to her remark about double the gym time--it's just a burger? you don't even have to eat the bun--so he's grateful when she keeps talking and chances on something easy for him to respond to. None of this shows on his face, which is helpfully mostly hidden. He furrows his brows above the bandana.

"They announced this all over town," he says flatly. "We make a pretty good target."

[squanderlust]

The bandana is at least good cover. She wishes she'd come up with something that simple. Instead she's in her Highlander uniform, which is really just lightly armored clothing that provides only somewhat more protection than her usual casual wear. Of course, the claymore is strapped to her back. Just because she can't use it doesn't mean she shouldn't have it.

"Understatement," she responds in the same tone. "Any supervillain worth their salt would take this opportunity. Especially with the Trailblazers here." She doesn't want to say it, but if someone wanted to eliminate a bunch of budding superheroes and send a powerful message, well.

[hellacold]

Claws aside, Jon doesn't have much in the way of weapons, but he does have some throwing knives and a small crossbow in his messenger bag with his bird. Given the company, he has to hope it'll be enough.

"Let's hope there are more of us than there are of them,"he says, lifting an eyebrow. "Any supervillain worth their salt would know better than to attack something like this on their own."

[squanderlust]

"They won't need much." she mutters, trying to keep her internal thoughts as private as possible. (The mutter is the best she can do.) She might sound pessimistic, but really, she and Longclaw could probably only handle one supervillain together on a good day, and that's only if that supervillain weren't ridiculously overpowered.

She sighs and uncrosses her arms. "May as well make the best of this. We aren't allowed to fight, which means sparring is out. What is there to do?"

[hellacold]

Jon's fairly confident in his abilities, most especially his ability to withstand most forms of attack, and he's pretty confident in his team. Still, there are kids here. They'll have to find a way to pull through somehow. He has more pressing concerns at the moment, like not embarrassing himself totally. He snorts, shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

"Barbecues are never as fun as they sound," he says. "We should have brought a slip-n-slide."

Jon is not remotely dressed for that, but he can't think of anything fun he ever did at a barbecue that didn't involve water somehow.

[squanderlust]

"Slip-n-slide?" she repeats, an incredulous look appearing on her face. She's familiar with the concept, of course. She wasn't raised in a ba—wait, her mom's a horse breeder, she's spent a decent amount of time in barns. But that's not the point.

"I can think of few things we're less appropriately dressed for." Especially if this barbecue does turn into a target. "Any suggestions that don't involve mingling? You're the only person whose company I halfway enjoy here anyway." It's a compliment. Really.

[hellacold]

He shrugs. Secretly he's very pleased she (halfway) enjoys his company, but he's determined to play it cool.

"We could ask King Triton to buy us beer," he nods at Finnick, presumably somewhere nearby.

[squanderlust]

"You don't want to talk to me drunk," she says, though it isn't honestly a bad idea because it's basically the only way to have anything interesting happen around here. "I slip into my mother's accent. It's terrible."

Even with that caveat, she looks around until she spies Finnick. "He won't actually buy it for us, will he?"

[hellacold]

"I don't know," he says. Whether or not Finnick ends up doing it, the mere act of them asking him will inevitably result in years of embarrassment. "I don't think he cares about the law."

[squanderlust]

"Well, he's a king." And opinions on kings notwithstanding, Longclaw's internal monologue is right about how embarrassing actually having to ask for it would be.

"I've got a bottle of Cameron Brig in my room, but that doesn't do us much good here." She brings it up as an idle comment, her attention somewhere in the middle distance. "And it's not the kind of thing to be drinking at a party. It's more refined than that," she adds like she would know.

[hellacold]

Jon isn't 100% sure that she knows Finnick is not actually called King Triton, and is in fact a rebel fighter from the future, but he doesn't want to ruin her joke, if it is one, so he's happy to change the subject.

"There might be somebody else here over 21," he eyes the crowd dismally. "We'd have to find a grocery store."

[squanderlust]

Severa shifts her weight to her back foot and rolls her eyes. "That defeats the purpose of not mingling with anyone." But if it's for the greater good, as it were... she can probably deal with it. Unless there's a better plan. She moves her weight to her front foot again and looks towards where the food is.

"Didn't anybody bring any? The fliers said this was a potluck." It seems a lot easier this way, and she's got a good feeling. "I doubt anyone would stop us, and it would technically be more legal." Somehow.

[hellacold]

"We could look," he says. "I didn't see anything."

He peers at the table of food and drinks.

[squanderlust]

All right, fine, she's going to have to be the one to go over there. She foregoes the theatrics and saunters over, looking in what she thinks would be common places for booze. Which basically amounts to just checking under the table and then checking under the other end of the table. She emerges with two bottles of beer, stolen from a six-pack that she is almost 100% certain should not have been there.

She returns to Longclaw and hands him an opened bottle. It won't be much, of course, but it's... well, it's something. "Here. Make it last. I didn't see much else." Or maybe it would be smarter to drink it fast to avoid suspicion? She'll follow his lead on it.

[hellacold]

Jon gives her a bright smile, but the effect is somewhat lost through the mask. One beer isn't going to do much for him, especially with a healing factor, but he likes the taste.

"Thanks," he says, taking a sip. "It's not bad. Could be colder."

[squanderlust]

All right, making it last it is. She matches his sip and actually smiles. Well, kind of. Halfway. It's progress for her, okay?

"I'll send out a recruitment letter for heroes who can freeze things." She's not exactly planning on revealing her lack of powers just yet. Sure, she's having fun with Longclaw, but it's never a bad idea to keep potential weaknesses close to her chest. "Unless you know someone. I'm not as well connected in this community as you." Maybe if she mingled more, that wouldn't be a problem.

[hellacold]

He laughs again and drops his gaze to the ground in front him, pleased and a little embarrassed to hear himself described this way.

"Not in Los Angeles," he says wryly.

[squanderlust]

"Of course not," she says, her voice just as wry. "Everybody from the great lakes is born with that ability innately." She happens to think she's quite clever, but... well, okay, just in case, she adds very unsubtly, "Because of how cold it is."

[hellacold]

Yes, he understood, but whatever, it's kind of cute.

"Are you from up north?" he asks, grinning.

[squanderlust]

Okay, yeah, just pretend she didn't screw that one up like a dork. She's still a refined and mysterious lady. Holding a stolen beer and being terrible at flirting.

"No, I'm from here. I've never left Los Angeles." She considers taking another drink, but falters awkwardly and decides against it. "Most of what I know about the rest of the country is from television."