2014-03-23 Stark's Charity Pot Luck
Players: Black Rose, Hulk, Loki, Phantasm, Tech Star, Tony Stark
GMed by NA
Title: Stark's Charity Pot Luck

It is a chilly 'Spring' evening, and Manhattan is buzzing with activity as people file into Stark Tower, which is lit with spotlights and other fancy lighting with banners indicating there is an event benig held here. People in suits and fancy dresses socialize outside while others mingle and pick at the impressive buffet spread. The buffet has food brought in from the people attending the event, creating a wide assortment of food of all ethnicities.

Loki is dressed in a sharp black suit with a dark green tie, his blonde hair slicked back. He holds a drink in one hand, though, due to his young appearance, it is a sparkling grape juice. Alas. He looks around, observing the people and taking noteof their behaviors.

Tony has a champagne flute in each hand and ends up at Loki's side to offer him one. He knows the score. It looks pretty much the same anyway, and to Loki it'll probably be about as weak as the aforementioned sparkling juice. "Bottoms up!" The inventor calls cheerfully to Loki, before it occurs to him that the encouragement may be horribly misinterpreted. "It means, uh, enjoy your drink. The bottom of the glass, up. That bottom." His contribution to this was not only hosting it, though: he also made a rocking 7-layer dip. It was easy enough for him to make it well and quickly.

Loki takes the flute and just kind of stares at Tony for a few moments, the nraises his glass. "I see. Thank you." He keeps a wary eye on the man as he takes a drink of the champagne. Tony may not be aware of the fact that Loki isn't in possession of his powers at the moment, and would be hit by alcohol the same as one his apparent age. "It is…fizzy."

Tony is totally clueless about the whole powerless thing. He just figures that Loki is Asgardian, so he'll have the same endurance and ability to drink anyone else under the table. He raises his glass cheerfully to the godling and looks around at the crowd. "It's really great to see so many people coming out for charity like this. What a great idea, charity pot luck! We should do one of these at least once a month."

Although Mike's not one to be throwing money away for social events, being a reasonably popular celebrity does result in sometimes getting invited to act as incntive for the non-celebrities to attend. And so, Mike is here. Wearing a well fitted and much higher-end suit than what he wore in Hell's Kitchen, with a black dress shirt and crimson tie in place, he could probably blend into the shadows, if there were any. But instead the ponytailed rocker/actor hybrid is making the rounds, and indirectly acting as a peace keeper for the younger attendees who got dragged along by their parents in a desperate attempt to show to their offspring that they were 'hip' to the times. As for his culinary offering, the ranch and parmesean seasoned red potatoes, one tray is already down and the other is already being worked upon.

Loki finishes his drink and shudders at the fizziness. "Why are the pots considered lucky? Are they randomly enchanted? They don't let me cook in the kitchen, so I brought a box of crackers. I hope that is acceptable." Loki brought goldfish crackers of all things. "They're not made of real fish, though, so have no fear."

Tony nearly chokes on his champagne, but he covers it up with the chuckle that follows it immediately. "I'm sure that's fine," he answers. "Next time, we can make something together. Like…no-bake cookies? Something like that?" Tony is not really a culinary marvel, but he knows how to cook at least. He has chefs when he wants something really fancy or intricate; he can at least make pasta successfully and some decently intermediate dishes on his own. Layer dip is easy, so that's what he's stuck with today. When he spots Nick Drago, he raises his glass to the man, not wanting to disturb whatever vibe he's got going on with the crowd and, in any case, trying to explain to Loki. Trying to think how, anyway. "It's…I think it's because you don't know what everyone else is bringing, so you just have to go with whatever they bring in the pot. So you hope for luck that it all goes together? I think?" It's a good guess, at least.

Loki nods. "Perhaps that would be a good idea. Oh, did someone poison the other dishes and you are lucky if you ingest the one that has not been poisoned?" He doesn't know why he finds that concept so amusing all of a sudden. "I am banned from the kitchens at home as well. May I have some more of this fizzy drink? Then I will tell you about the time I accidently enchanted the pheasants and we were overrun."

Mike, AKA Nick nods slightly as a politician takes time to introduce him to his college age son. He reaches over to shake the kid's hand. Seeing movement from the other side of the room, Mike glances up and returns Tony's toast with one of his own, holding up a beer bottle in return. Guess someone is not a champagne fan. Seeing Loki, he gives a nod to the Asgardian as well before turning back to the politician's son.

Being a Stark function, there's plenty of variety in the drinks, and they're all of high quality. He wouldn't have it any other way! As Loki speaks, he ends up finishing his own glass full, so he looks around the room. There — a waiter carrying a number of the flutes. Champagne is the drink of choice at these functions, so he flags the man down and trades the two empty glasses for two full ones, handing another to Loki and blissfully, blissfully unaware that Loki actually doesn't have his usual stamina. "No, no. No one poisoned the other dishes. It's just that when you have a smaller pot luck dinner, you're not sure if the tastes will go together. I think."

So this might not have been such a good idea… When he'd heard about the charity 'do at Stark Tower, Sam figured he should at least show his face and arranged for a ticket. At the very least he'd be able to get a hold of Tony again and discuss the finer points of electromechanical engineering, or so he thought at the time. Standing around mostly by himself, ignored by the celebrities and the more important guests, the young mutant feels ill at ease in his hastily tailored suit. The tie had come off already, and like most kids he insisted in wearing his usual sneakers rather than more formal footwear. Sipping his lemonade, he decides there's not going to be a chance in hell he'll be able to fit in, and sets out in search of people he knows amid the chattering masses.

"Well, I suppose if people start throwing up everywhere you will have your answer." He takes a drink, always shuddering when the fizziness hits him. "That man over there sounds familiar but I am not certain why. Do you know him?" He gestures toward Mike/Nick. "This event would be much more exciting if one of the dishes was poisioned and nobody knows which one it is. So what is your occupation? I have heard that you play with boys (Playboy as in Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist) and are a Fill-In-Throatist. Are you a doctor?"

That was ttly Loki

Everyone's got champagne… Except for Nick. Which leads to the question: WHERE DID HE GET THE BEER? Either way, Nick has one and he's not giving it up as he talks a bit with the politician's son. The talk is cut short however as said son is dragged along by the father to talk to some other folks. A sympathetic look is flashed towards the back of the son's head before he turns, taking another sip of his drink.

"Let's…let's just hope that doesn't happen." Tony tries to keep smiling during the whole thing. "He's that musician, right? I think he's a musician. Haven't met him but he seems nice. Plus his potatoes are really tasty." The crowd mills about around the two. It's almost as if they've become invisible for standing still, despite Tony's tailored red suit and unmistakable features. He happens to turn just in time to catch Loki take a drink. "Sip it, it's better that way. Might make you sneeze if you gulp it." To demonstrate, he takes a tiny little mouthful of the champagne himself. Then he starts choking for real when the unfortunate mistranslation hits his ears.

This is getting him nowhere. Jostled by the crowd and not even getting anywhere near the buffet table, Sam decides to try a different tack. So what kid brings a bluetooth headset with him to a VIP charity party? This one does, and this one just hooked it around his right ear and bimbled off towards the edge of the room, leaning casually against the wall. Sotto voce, the young mutant tries to connect his 'call'. "Jarvis? I know I'm not s'posed to talk to you, but this is the most boring party I've ever been to, and I can't find Tony."

Loki watches Nick, trying to place his face. If he had his powers he could immediately identify him, but he doesn't so it's a bit of a puzzle. He looks at his glass and sips the rest of it, then holds it up. "I like this drink. Another!" *crash* The champagne flute is smashed onto the ground, in true Asgardian style.

The sound of the breaking glass draws Nick's attention back over towards Loki. Turning, Mike starts moving over towards Loki and Tony quickly. He looks to the sputtering Tony and then towards the broken glass, "Alcohol?"

If Samuel manages to hook up with Jarvis, he would probably get a "my word!" or something like that. With HOMER, he might get a different response. In any case, it's not that hard to find Tony anymore: just look for the handsome man in the red suit doubled over choking next to the young-looking man that just demolished a glass on the floor. Nick finds him easily enough! But there's unfortunately not a lot the genius inventor can say. Went down the wrong pipe.

Gambit played and failed, there's not much for Sam to do but admit defeat and look at leaving early. He'd need some kind of miracle to find Tony among this lot, some sort of very clear signal that turns heads and maybe even helpfully clears a wide circle around him. Such as the sound of a breaking glass and a choking host. That would do. Pushing his way through, the younger genius inventor takes in the scene and then looks up at the gawpers. "Don't just stand there, he's choking. Do something." And almost with indecent haste, he adds. "Except you, Loki."

Mike looks to Sam at his command, eyes narrowing a bit before sighing, looking towards Tony, "Um." He reaches an arm behind Tony and starts swatting the back til Tony stops sputtering. "Better?"

Poor Tony. Champagne went down the wrong pipe when Loki horribly misunderstood something he was told. Now the playboy philanthropist has a face almost as red as his finely-tailored suit. He straightens up a bit and clears his throat, offering a sort of thin smile and a wave of gratitude to Mike. "Thanks," he offers, voice a little rough still. "Shouldn't sniff and drink," he tries to explain, although it was more of a choke of utter, unexpected surprise. Loki stands right beside him. Tony breathes deeply, slowly, and waves off any of the crowd that assembled, though he does give a smile he hopes is reassuring to Samuel as he's noticed.

Samuel tries not to get swept away by the crowd again, pushing against the human current as they begin their interminable mingling dance once more and stepping on toes where required. Elbows are employed when absolutely necessary. In the end he manages to stay roughly where he was, having found the person he desperately wanted to speak to, and finding that he now doesn't know what to say. At an almost complete loss, he strikes out with a very lame "Tony, do you have a minute to talk?"

She doesn't have a dish. Michelle doesn't tend to.. cook often anyway. She does have a ticket and this she hands over at the door before moving further in. This evening, she's in her usual black skirted suit, high heels and red silk blouse. Tony and those around him are noticed, but she doesn't intrude. At least not yet.

"No problem," Mike replies to Tony, once more glancing to the broken glass, "So, what drink merited such a lively request for more?"

"Just some champagne." Tony reaches over to place his hand supportively on Loki's shoulder, hoping to fend off any sort of antipathy between Samuel and the godling. "Nothing too extreme. Good old champagne — who doesn't love that?" However, he subtly sets his own half-empty flute aside, to turn back when Samuel addresses him. "Sure. Shoot."

Loki is careful to pat Tony on the back. "Are you all right?" he asks, then glares at Samuel. "Be silent, Samuel, you will only make an ass out of yourself." With another pat, he remains where he stands as long as Tony needs him to so he doesn't keel over. Otherwise, he willjust remain there as he goes to talk to Samuel.

Mike blinks, looking at Tony and then looks over to Loki, "Well now that he's fine, How're you feeling, Loki?"

There is a brief smile flicked as she runs into someone familiar, drifting off to mingle and talk for the time being. Michelle's blue eyes flick to Tony and his group now and then, but the English woman is making the appropriate, polite 'rounds' as it were.

"I rebuilt it." is how Sam starts off, hoping that Tony will realize what he's talking about. "Been testing it in the lab, and it's faster than the old one, tougher too. I made some improvements to the actuation and the miniaturization of some of the components, especially…" he trails off, aware that this is a social event and not a tech showcase. "Anyway, I think I found a few ways to improve yours."

"Great. Great! We can talk about it. Soon." There's a conviction, a solemnity in Tony's face that makes it clear that, even a bit rushed, is no less sincere. "I'm glad things are going well for you…was hoping you'd have some luck there." He clears his throat again, looking around at the people near him. Got to make sure no one walks on the glass. Fortunately someone's sweeping it up. A robot.

Loki looks toward Mike and nods. "I'm fine, thank you. Do I know you? You seem familiar, but I am uncertain."

Nick Drago cracks a slight smile as Loki poses the question. "I should." He replies, "A hint. St. Patrick's day, you were getting advice on how better to hide your identity from two people…"

Tony looks around to try and find the half-empty — or maybe half-full — glass he put down a moment before. Of course, it's been picked up already, so he only sighs a bit and steps back in the direction of Loki and Nick, glancing around to notice Michelle mingling.

Loki blinks, then emits a rather loud and oddly high pitched giggle, then clasps a hand over his mouth. "What is this I have been drinking? I feel as though I have drank too much ale. Why do you umm…what was the question?" The question Loki didn't ask but MIke was supposed to know.

There is brief laughter coming from Michelle, patting someone on the arm just before she turns to collect a glass of champagne from a passing tray. Taking a sip, she turns away to head further in the crowd, making her way towards Nick and the rest, though caught midway into another mingling session.

Nick's head tilts a bit as Loki starts giggling and forgetting the question he asked "I'm thinking that that you may have as well." The rocker agrees, voice lowering, "Your drinks were alcoholic like ale tends to be. We'll have to find you something that doesn't have alcohol in it it seems."

"Huh? But…" Tony looks between the two, and his eyes narrow as he looks Loki over. "Wait. I thought…your system was hardier because…" He clears his throat quietly and shakes his head, shrugging nonchalantly. "Sure. Why don't we all switch to juice? Sparkling juice!" Loki had some of that earlier! It's bound to be around.

"I don't have my powers right now," Loki says, rubbing his forehead. "I was cast out of Asgard because I said something I shouldn't have to Magneto even though I thought I was doing the right thing. I had already been punished for it, but…well someone brought it up and Odin exiled me." He hiccups and nods to Tony. "Juice is goose, er good." To Mike, he grins and reaches up to poke him on the nose.

Mike stands still, allowing for himself to be booped by the buzzed Asgardian. "Yeah, Juice him up." He agrees, giving a bit of a sigh before lifting up his beer to take a long swig. "I take it you've figured out why I look familiar now?"

Tony groans and folds his arms over his chest. "I'm getting sick of this Odin character." He's still studying what readings he got off that frost giant, some months ago. There's something to be said for it. Going quiet, losing himself in thought, he listens carefully nonetheless to the others speaking, letting them converse uninterrupted for a moment.

Loki dramatically pulls back his arm and points at Mike. "Yes! I /do/." Fortunately he's not as wild on alcohol as he is on caffeine. "Odin is the king, he will do what he pleases. But don't say anything, because he's probably having us watched. You should use a lot of words that he wouldn't understand that sound very inappropriate."

A lot of talking tends to make the mouth dry, and one glass of champagne emptied and passed off. Of course a fresh one is taken, but this one mostly just carried for the moment. Michelle finally arrives after wading through the sea of people to stand a polite distance behind Tony and the others. "Good evening, Gentlemen. I hope I am not interrupting?" Her accent is very heavily British with a light inflection of Scottish. She gets a light gleam of talks of Odin, but doesn't make it obvious. They could be talking about a movie for all she knows.

"If he's watching, I hope he's enjoyed my exciting baths," Tony remarks half-joking but half-bitterly. He turns at the pleasant voice that greets them and his expression goes to a more cheerful and hospitable one. "Good evening! Welcome to the pot luck. I've supplied the 7-layer dip, have you tried it yet?"

"I don't give a shit if he's watching." Nick mutters, shaking his head, "Because right now the only thing I can think of to describe him is asshole." The expression lightens a little as he looks to Loki, "I'll go grab you some juice. No more champagne." He starts moving over to the refreshment table.

Loki wrinkles his nose when Tony mentions his baths. "I hope he would not subject Heimdall to that. Can we not mention him again? I don't want to get into any more trouble. " He glances to Michelle and smiles lopsidedly. "Greetings! Of course you are not interrupting!"

"I have not, but I thank you for the offer. I was of half a mind to bring yorkshire pudding and parsnips, but Americans tend to not appreciate some British foods unless its tea and biscuits." Crimson lips quirk at the corner, a hand offered to Tony. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Stark. I'm Michelle MacGregor. PA to David Zanatos." Her gaze shifts to Nick for a moment, slender eyebrow raising. "Are you certain I am not interrupting?" A smile is further given to Loki. "Evening."

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. MacGregor." Tony offers his hand to her, that winning, brilliant smile combined with his friendly tone making it really a warm welcome. "You're not interrupting. I'd have enjoyed the parsnips, for sure."

Nick gets a drink from the table.

Her slender hand is set in Tony's. "I will sent some over tomorrow, then. I wouldn't want to disappoint." Michelle's hand rests lightly for a moment, at least long enough to shake or squeeze, or offer whatever greeting Tony has in mind. Afterwards it easily falls back to her side, lifting the glass in the other to her lips. "Nice party you have, Mr. Stark."

Tony gives a polite little squeeze, not wanting to be presumptuous, dipping his head in deference. "Don't go to any trouble. Maybe sometime we can have a nice meal of some regional cuisine, if you're so inclined. I hope you'll have a great time here."

Nick Drago returns! And in each hand a drink. One being the beer bottle he already had and in the other, one of the sparkling juices. Upon reaching the others, he hands off the drink towards Loki, "There you go." Once he's sure Loki has the drink securely in hand he takes notice of Michelle having joined. "Hello" he greets.

"Par..snips?" Loki pronounces, trying to search his memory for the word. He takes the juice and nods. "Thank you. What was your name again?" He asks Nick, having enough brain cells still working to not assume that everyone knows him as Mike and Nick.

"That would be grand. I will promise to stay the haggis. More of a favorite of the north." Michelle then half turns to Nick with the same pleasant smile. "All right?" Though for those familiar with British slang and terms, it generally means 'Hello, how are you?'. To Loki, she chuckles, "Yes, Parsnips aren't overly popular in America. More overseas. Its a root vegetable that looks like a pale carrot. Very good when sweetly marinaded and given a good roast or oven bake."

Tony laughs at the mention, but maybe there's a little bit of a nervous quality to it — haggis, after all, is not one of those well-loved dishes even inside its home territory. "Ahh, parsnips. Actually, if you'll excuse me, that's awakened a powerful hunger. I'm going to nip over to the pots and take another lucky dip. Please enjoy yourself, it was wonderful to meet you." Flashing that smile again, he turns to go to the vast table of pots again.

"Brilliant." Nick replies, giving a bit of a slight smile, as he offers a hand out to her. "Nick Drago." He introduces himself, answering Loki's quesion at the same time, "More of a potato person myself." He looks over to the departing Tony and smirks, "Leave some for the rest of them!"

"Yes, Mike is a potato, erm, makes good potatoes. Stop saying strange things when my mind feels as though it has been stepped upon by a bil- large green creature. Perhaps I would like to try a parsnip sometime." While Loki has the accent, he isn't exactly British. "Potato potato potato…."

"Fantastic." Michelle seems at least approving he caught the term. Her free hand is offered to Nick, "Michelle MacGregor. A pleasure, Mr. Drago." A small nod and polite smile is given to Tony as he goes to leave, amusement showing as a bit of a smirk appears as she looks to Loki, though she glances to Nick. "Your mate is a bit pissed, isn't he?"

"A little plastered, yeah." Nick agrees,inching in a mild Irish accent of his own, not indicative of living thick in it but perhaps living around one or two dominant carriers of it. He takes the offered hand to give it a shake. Not quite a firm as he would to a guy but still with some support to it, "Lost a bit o' tolerance it seems. But at least he's not Shlossed."

"I'm not pissed, just a bit annoyed, perhaps. Who are you again? Oh, you just introduced yourself. Greetings Michelle MacGregor. I am Loki. Would you like some crackers?"

Michelle grins a little at Loki. "I use a bit different terms than perhaps you are used to. I'm from the United Kingdom. Pissed means drunk, dear." The shake is returned to Nick before her hand is withdraw, her own grip feminine, though it might be noted she has calouses on her first two fingertips. "Nice to meet you, Loki. I'm guessing your parents were a fan of Norse Mythos?"

"Oh," Nick considers looking towards Loki, "You could say that."

"Pissed means drunk deer. I see. Yes, I suppose they were. A rather ridiculous name, isn't it? I suppose I could always have been named Thor or Balder. Then again, I suppose…what was the question again?"

"No…" Michelle sighs, shaking her head. "Not quite what I meant. Drunk. Pissed means drunk. Though you don't seem much like a Thor. Doesn't he have bigger muscles?" She shrugs a shoulder, giving a faint wave at the thought. Lifting her glass, she takes another drink. "So what is it you two do, then?"

"Yeah that name wouldn't work for him." Nick agrees, looking towards the younger LOOKING male, trying to add in something a bit more, well, supportive to the observation, "Loki suits him better, He does have an air of intelligece and curiousity about him when sober." He pauses, "I'm an entertainer."

"I thought you looked a bit familiar. I'm sorry, I don't usually have overmuch time to watch the tele outside of the news now and again." There is a party going on; a sort of pot-luck and Mr. Stark seems to have gotten off somewhere. Michelle is standing speaking with Nick (Mike) and Loki.

"I like watching television! Do you watch the show with the multicolored horses? It is quite fictious but amusing nonetheless. Where I am from, there is no television, so I am quite entertained by it all."

"It's alright," Mike assures, "You're likely outside my primary demographic." He glances around, "I believe the primary reason why I even get invited to these type functions are for donors that have older children who are in high school or college."

Bruce figures that he'll at least make an appearance at Stark's party, unsure if he should be there. They do get rather crazy

The British woman laughs, shifting her barely touched champagne glass to her other hand, lifting the other to shift the glasses atop her head. "Possibly, though moreso I just don't pay much attention to entertainment." She blinks openly at Loki, "You don't have television where your from? How is that even possible in this day and age?"

"Mike is a potato man." Loki giggles, sipping his juice. At least he's a happy little drunk guy. "I'm from a looonnnnnnng way away. It's against our um…religion."

His parents are extremely old fashioned and traditional," Nick supplies, looking over towards Loki. Our happy little drunk guy using the wrong name… "Potato man…" He repeats, giving a shake of the head, "Close enough, I'm part Irish." As Bruce comes into view, the rocker smiles, giving a wave to him.

Bruce blinks as someone waves to him. Certainly not someone he recognizes

"I don't quite think he looks like a children's toy, Loki." And pausing a beat, Michelle raises a slender eyebrow at Loki. "Are you Amish on a Rumsspriga? Perhaps Mennonite?" As Mike waves to someone, her attention shifts across the crowd to find Bruce, casting a polite smile.

When there's not much reaction from Bruce, Mike leans over towards Loki and Michelle, "Uh, excuse me for a moment." He steps away from the two to start walking over towards Bruce. Before he can get to the scientist, a donor with two similar looking guests in two comes rushing up to him all smiles. "Nick Drago!"

Shhhhi… Well, looks like he's going to be busy for awhile.

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