14939/Gym Bros

Gym Bros
Date of Scene:	15 April 2023
Location:	Gym, Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	A God, A Super Soldier and a Mortal walk into a gym...
Cast of Characters:	Thor, Hawkeye (Barton), Captain America

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Thor has posed:
One might wonder what challenge a MORTAL gym might offer to THE MIGHTY THOR, but said Asgardian Avenger is giving it his best collegiate try. The weights of several machines have been combined and (mostly) secured to one of the contraptions already designed to challenge a metahuman, and the Stormbringer readily, even enthusiastically presses this mass.

Thor is garbed simply in a tight singlet bearing the Avengers logo, and matching lightweight, and notably looser, sweat pants as he tones and entertains himself, more than actually bulking up. But then, he's doing rather well in that department already, densely corded limbs with strength worthy of Yggdrasil pumping that proverbial iron. The room's sound system projects a mixed shuffle of classic and Scandinavian rock, and Thor's liftings are quite rhythmic; not that most, or perhaps even the god himself, are liable to notice!

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
... and here comes Clint.

The keen eyed Avenger wanders into the gym space with his black sweatpants and purple shirt on. The shirt has a 'Just Shoot It' logo printed on the front of it but there's an arrow and target where the Nike swoosh would be. On his shoulder is his towel just in case he actually breaks a sweat up in here.

There's a stutter step when he wanders in and immediately spots the Thor Workout because how he could miss it? There's a smirk as he wanders over towards something to toss his towel over it. "You're gonna' put all those back where you found 'em, right?" comes the teasing comment from Clint to make his presence known.

Clint sends a glance around to see what machines are still available for use.

Thor has posed:
"Are there not servants for such?!?" Thor objects drily, convincingly arrogant and dismissive of the idea of such as -he- cleaning up after -himself-. It lasts several beats. Enough for three presses. On the third descent, Thor pauses to laugh heartily and from the taut and toned belly. "Ton of Bar, I understand Midgard's customs and the fundamentals of respect better than that!" Did the God of the Storm really layer a bad joke on top of sarcasm? He really -is- learning!

Thor secures the bar, the machine shuddering under the excess of weight with an alarming metallic creeeeak, but the Asgardian notes Clint's workout gear instead. "You do your own branding and merchandising?" Another beat. "Smart." No sarcasm detected, there. He needs a cool, trademarked logo, clearly. Something with a hammer, perhaps.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Servants? I don't think--" Clint has to stop himself in that next moment. "You know what, Tony may actually have some of those. So I'm not gonna' answer that. I'm not a billionaire. I don't know how they live." He might like to find out someday though. Maybe. "... Ton of Bar?" Even Clint has to roll his eyes a bit at that. But he's still rocking an amused smile at all this.

"What?" Clint looks down at his shirt. "Oh. No. I found this in a thrift shop. I think it's probably bootleg Avengers merch." Clint offers with a small shrug. "What can I say, I like purple." This is pretty much where Clint shops for most of his things, anyway.

"My whole deal is to fly /under/ the radar." Clint is not worried about this branding and merchandising!

Thor has posed:
"Ah, the Lord of the Holdfast." Is Thor continuing dry mockery? It's nigh impossible to tell. "I suspect such household staff are poorly suited for this task." Even if the God of Thunder -did- desire to leave it for others. But no-- he does an impressively effortless job of lofting and returning each massive bell to its mount, sometimes stacking several under one thick arm for a more efficient trek.

"Most enterprising!" The bootleggers, apparently. "I must explore these trading posts more fully." Color Thor somewhat confused, however. "Is all the fame and glory you may accrue as one of Earth's Mightiest Guardians a dramatic miscalculation then?" Thor considers... "Or perhaps-- the FINEST cover for more surreptitious operations in the darkness?!"

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Yeah, uh, no fame or glory here. Just me being me." Clint taps the machine he's been leaning on for a moment as he does make a realization though. "Wait no, that's a lie. Sometimes I do get a free yogurt." Clint remembers this time fondly and thus the smile that comes along with it.

"If you want I can take you thrifting sometime. I know a lot of great spots in the city." Clint then blinks. "You're going to need Earth money, though. They don't take gold coins or rubies or whatever you gotta' use to cross the River Styx." Clint is both teasing and serious with this particular statement.

Captain America has posed:
"That's Greek, Clint,"

accompanies the pneumatic hiss of a well-concealed door sliding into the wall, allowing a shirtless Steve Rogers to emerge with a towel draped over his neck. One of several combat training suites sectioned off from the main gym for safety and comfort lies behind him, no doubt full of precisely cut drones in need of repairs.

"The River Styx, I mean -- Thor's people have their own nether-ecology. Completely different."

A beat passes as he dabs at the sweat coating his chest and neck, peering towards Thor with mounting curiosity.

"... right?" he checks at a softer level.

Thor has posed:
"Low in fat; high in protein!" Is Thor referring to Clint being Clint? Probably the yogurt. One hopes. "I am told my sense of modern style can be lacking; though only by those who cannot appreciate fine mail, I suspect. Still-- that could be quite a jaunt."

Thor agrees, and then agrees some more, nodding along with Steve as the Captain makes his entrance. "Quite-- the bifrost and Asgard itself, even in ruins, is a very different adventure than passage into any underworld, much less one etched in such morose tones." Valhalla has a somewhat different reputation indeed, you see.

"Many realms form a lattice of reality around, within, and throughout the material worlds of the multiversal cosmos, my friend and comrade." There's a certain chest-puffing pride to this fact, or perhaps this knowledge, or perhaps simply centuries-- millennia-- of adventure across said realms of reality and magic. "Though as I understand it, our nethers are actually quite similar." Deadpan. Stone-faced. Important to note.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"I can't keep up with all you gods, goddess, super soldiers. Too much mythology. I'm going to need flash cards." More teasing from Clint as he gets even more comfortable leaning on the machine that he probably should be working out on but with so much actually superhumanly strong muscles in the room maybe he can wait a little while longer.

Save himself a little embarrassment.

Cap gets a nod in greeting from Clint before he turns his attention back to Thor for the explanation and there's just more confusion on Clint's face. It takes him a few moments to try and catch up and when he does he's gotten some clearer words in his head. "Sounds like a plan. A jaunt is a plan, right?" Clint shrugs that part off. "I don't know about any of your nethers but I'm pretty sure when we reach ours, speaking on behalf of most of humanity, I think that's it for us. No second chances."

Captain America has posed:
Listening intently as Thor describes his vision of creation, Steve slowly, inevitably arches an eyebrow.

"Similar... how?" he wonders, tentative and curious. With a sideways look towards Clint, he adds, "With the lives we lead -- interesting as they are -- who can really say where, or when, or how it all ends for us?"

Thor has posed:
"I am sure they make such learning aids, good Hawkeye." Thor helpfully intones, slipping the last of ~numerous~ barbells away and clapping Clint-- carefully-- on one shoulder. "A fundamental truth of the universe is the transformation and preservation of energy. Why should a human's end be any more final? Such finite existence is unique enough without eschewing what lies beyond. Though, ah--" Thor squints between Clint and Steve.

"-- I thought the Captain meant a different sort of nethers. Valhalla, however-- well." The Stormbringer breathes deep the wistful air of something that's not quite nostalgia, and not quite anticipation. "Drink, battle, glory and camaraderie for all eternity beats the more boring or tortuous options hands down, I should think." Though of course he would; and such things are very very much a matter of individual perspective. And spiritual heart. "A jaunt, my Marksman ally, is an adventure with balance tipped towards revels."

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Personally, I would like to go out with a bang. Like sacrificing myself so that a friend can live and save the world." Clint's having a moment of mortality pondering. "Or saving my dog's life. I'll take either of those options."

Clint nods along with the words from Thor. Kind of understanding some of them. "Okay, Valhalla sounds like a blast. If we can visit there without me having to shed my mortal coil, count me in." Clint's down for a road trip to Valhalla it sounds like.

When the jaunt definition is brought into the mix, Clint actually seems impressed that he was kind of close. "Thrifting can definitely be an adventure. Especially on Sundays. That's when the sales happen." Clint shudders at the memory of the last time he spent the day thrifting. "It was war. I still have nightmares about a little old lady with a grabber cane.""

Captain America has posed:
"Oh--"

Steve gives the Thunderer a double take, brow furrowing.

"Why would--" follows, lower.

He pauses for a beat, then shrugs it off with a sheepish smile. Leave it to Thor to have hammers on the brain.

"I'm living proof," he instead says, looking between his fellow Avengers, "that sometimes, what we figure'll be the end, just... isn't. Interesting lives," comes with a brief nose-tap, "like I said." Approaching Clint, he gives the archer's shoulder a firm clap.

"It's a good thought, just the same, wanting to spend your life for a worthy cause."

Thor has posed:
"Such an end is how a warrior might find themselves plucked from the battlefield by the Valkyries of old and taken to the eternal feast and hone their skills for the Last Battle-- for the final cycle of this timeline." This, too, is a paradox-- Thor finds both sorrow and excitement welling within him, the seemingly contradictory emotions etched on his face, in the momentary waffle between grimace and smile, in the single, manly tear that leaves one eye, and threatens in both.

"Our finest banquets are said to be but vague echo of that grand beyond." The Asgardian's chiseled features settle into broad grin as he observes, "There is no throng that might stand against us, a god and the greatest of mortal warriors-- but..."

Thor lowers his voice, just a little conspiratorially, "I am left to understand that it is typically frownd upon to do so. Perhaps a more strategic approach, right Captain? Clint can show us the Googles of the least populated times at which to pursue great Thrift! Swiftly, brothers-- to the workstations!" With, perhaps, a stop at the fridge for cold ones on the way. They all worked out, they deserve cold ones. Hawkeye can make up for this oversight... later.