I notice most of our RPs seem to revolve around food...
Bobby only chuckled at Ragnar's dare and to absolutely nobody's surprise, he took the bait; "no, you're far too hairy to look like a Noblewoman. At least I think so, maybe the high-ups from Fenris rock the bearded-lady look," he responded with a smirk.
Thor smiled warmly at Ragnar's magnanimous rhetorical-challenge; he passed the Space Wolf an extremely large Xavier Institute t-shirt (thankfully they now made sure to keep shirts of the Fenrisian's size in constant supply) before he stood up and moved around towards the larger man. He may still be weary; I shall not let him fall were he to stumble.
"Kitchen will be empty, everyone else ate earlier," Baird said with a slight bit of agitation in his voice as he looked at the time on his mini-tablet. Psycho-viking attack means two extra hours before I get to shovel some food into me. He could've woken up psycho so I had to keep watch he thought. But he knew that wasn't his only reason for staying with the afflicted Fenrisian.
"Which means all those leftovers are ours," Bobby replied as he began to smirk and walk towards the door. That's another point in his favor the cryokinetic reluctantly admitted. He opened the door and waved back to Thor, Damon and Ragnar; "foodgasm, this way," he said with a grin.
Meanwhile, the Asgardian placed his arm around Blackmane's broad back in what seemed like a standard comradely half-hug, but it also offered physical stability to the Space Marine. "Shall we plunder the wonders of Remy's cuisine?" he asked as he cast an enthusiastic grin Ragnar's way.