[Mantis considers him for a moment, then turns to the table and gets herself another cup of water. Obviously, she's messed this up somehow. Surely, there is some way to fix it.
When she faces him again, she upends the cup over her own sleeve. There. Now they match.]
Peter gawks at her for a few seconds, a mix of totally weirded-out and completely baffled, but—
Then, he barks out a laugh.
And he almost seems startled by it – he’s not sure if he’s laughed like since he got here. He hasn’t exactly been in a good mood for it, what with everything that he remembers happening and everything that’s been on his mind. It’s almost a relief, if he’s honest.
He reaches for a few more napkins from the table, offering them out to her. ]
[ And there's his usual sarcastic tilt to his words, but he reins it in a little, if only for Mantis' sake. Sarcasm and half of the members of the team didn't mix well, and he has to imagine the same is probably true for Mantis, sheltered as she probably had been.
He blots up the water on Mantis' sleeve – or at least a good majority of it – and tosses the napkins onto the table. ]
Seriously, though.
[ And this time, Peter will be turning to the table to pour Mantis a cup of water. He holds it out to her, and with a pointed look. ]
[She takes the cup with both hands and gives him a genuine, if lopsided, smile. She doesn't catch the touch of sarcasm at all -- and it'd be hard to say if she'd catch it completely sober. Ego was never much for sarcasm.
He had been either bold-faced lying or finessing the truth until it sounded far prettier than it actually is.]
Thank you. [Still double-fisting that cup, she takes a long swallow.] After this, can we play more games?
[For the love of all things good, Peter, you should probably say no.]
[ He's gratified to see that the water ends up being properly drunk, this time, instead of ending up soaking into their sleeves and shirts, so that's a relief.
At her question, though, his head tilts, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. He should, you know. Probably actively discourage this, but a small part of him is almost curious. ]
Depends on what kinda games you got in mind. 'Cause shouting profanities at some random Olympian in the crowd? Probably not a good game to try again.
It is not my fault that he was not having fun. [No, really. She had been playing a game and that Olympian had to go and take it far too seriously.] Maybe we should find him and try again.
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When she faces him again, she upends the cup over her own sleeve. There. Now they match.]
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Peter gawks at her for a few seconds, a mix of totally weirded-out and completely baffled, but—
Then, he barks out a laugh.
And he almost seems startled by it – he’s not sure if he’s laughed like since he got here. He hasn’t exactly been in a good mood for it, what with everything that he remembers happening and everything that’s been on his mind. It’s almost a relief, if he’s honest.
He reaches for a few more napkins from the table, offering them out to her. ]
I said drink the water, not wear it, dude.
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One point to Wyver. No one from Olympia made him laugh right then, so she's winning. Logic.]
We match!
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We already match.
[ And he points to the Wyver pin adorning his lapel. ]
C'mon— [ This, as he's reaching out to dab a napkin against her sleeve. ] —you're gonna drip everywhere.
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Sorta.
It is kinda funny.]
I didn't want you to feel left out. [About having a soaked sleeve.
Something like that.]
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[ And there's his usual sarcastic tilt to his words, but he reins it in a little, if only for Mantis' sake. Sarcasm and half of the members of the team didn't mix well, and he has to imagine the same is probably true for Mantis, sheltered as she probably had been.
He blots up the water on Mantis' sleeve – or at least a good majority of it – and tosses the napkins onto the table. ]
Seriously, though.
[ And this time, Peter will be turning to the table to pour Mantis a cup of water. He holds it out to her, and with a pointed look. ]
Drink this, this time.
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He had been either bold-faced lying or finessing the truth until it sounded far prettier than it actually is.]
Thank you. [Still double-fisting that cup, she takes a long swallow.] After this, can we play more games?
[For the love of all things good, Peter, you should probably say no.]
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At her question, though, his head tilts, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. He should, you know. Probably actively discourage this, but a small part of him is almost curious. ]
Depends on what kinda games you got in mind. 'Cause shouting profanities at some random Olympian in the crowd? Probably not a good game to try again.
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Honest to God pouts.]
It is not my fault that he was not having fun. [No, really. She had been playing a game and that Olympian had to go and take it far too seriously.] Maybe we should find him and try again.
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No, no. Let's, uh. Let's let the guy cool off, okay, Mantis? I think he's probably gonna be in a pretty bad mood for a little while.
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Don't kick a puppy, Peter. Why would you do that?]
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Yes, Mantis. You won.
[ It would take a far, far crueler person than Peter to dash her hopes like that, after all. ]
And that dude seemed like a pretty sore loser, you know? So we should probably give him a wide berth for the rest of the night. Just to be gracious.