"I can drink to that, as long as you understand you're wrong." John squeaked in while adding a bit to his glass. "I will not take it back. I'm just.. cold-hearted." Okay, that first drink might have been done in a bit quick and the effects were taking for jokes like that.
The spoken word was stated. There would have to be a way to kill an ice boy like Bobby. Nothing could live forever, so there would have to be a way. Ultimately, Bobby wasn't ready, and John wasn't looking to murder.
"Hah. Coexistence." John mused. "I agree the minimal is at least ignore the likes of us, but people refuse to ignore those they don't know, trust, or like." John made a face while glancing at Bobby. "Take history, between Nazi Germany and slavery." Annoyed. "Or my people and the Aboriginals." Truly, there was nothing but intolerance in this world.
"You know what, maybe this place is paradise."
John rolled his eyes so hard it would have killed a weaker man. "Best mates?" The look from John possibly could have been priceless. "We can be drinking pals who tolerate each other enough to tip the glass occasionally." John compromised. Then the Natasha question. "Uh. Not sure yet." Pyro considered. "I haven't dealt with her much, for obvious reasons but I don't think she's ours."