Phobetor and OPEN After leaving Idun, which he guessed was fine since Tyr just left her with him, he headed toward the punch table to table where the self-serve was located. As much as he would have loved to get something strong, he wasn't sure that was what was best for Idun right now. His brows furrowed mostly because he wasn't sure what, if anything, was good for Idun right now. He was really going to have to have a talk with Bragi about disappearing. Then again, there was the whole blood thing.
Maybe he should've offered to go and sniff out the place. These were all things he thought through as he began to toss finger foods into his mouth.
There was a wide variety of non-alcoholic beverages in front of him. He guessed it was for those gods who were afraid of losing control. Those were never the ones who really needed to keep their head on straight. He spotted the punch bowl not so far off. It was hard to try and pick out whether it was spiked or not, considering the smell of different grades of alcohol was all over. There were small plastic cups with handles arranged neatly around it and a big scoop within the middle.
Small plastic cups. Small Idun. That would work.
Little did he know, his next step would be on a low hanging piece of table cloth. Nearly tripping, he shifted his weight, pulling the food and the bowl toward the edge of the table.