"Serious or not, we all work with what we've got, right?" He asked, snatching the bottle from Apollo's hand and fighting with the twist off cap far too long. He ended up wrapping the cap in his shirt and then ripping a small hole in the shirt in his effort to get it off. A tiny bit of body hair peeked through the newly formed hole on his shirt as he settled into a wide stance, one hand on his hip in an almost heroic pose as he took a long drink of his beer. "We can't all be blonde gods now, can we?" He asked, shooting Apollo a knowing grin.
And then the big guy had to go and twist it all on him, didn't he. Shit, he'd forgotten they were all demi-gods. The kind that died. Crap, how did he forget something like that? "I really need to lay off the pot," he muttered very, very quietly to himself as he buried his face in his palm and rubbed. He was usually clueless as the day was long, but this was pretty bad, even for him. Part of him wanted to challenge Apollo, rib him into telling the tragic stories of their deaths because, well, let's face it, it would make him look entirely insane in front of the pretty girl, but he did not seriously need to blow both their mortal covers.
"Sorry, man," he said, looking serious suddenly. He reached a big hand out to slap the other lightly on the back. "You should have called me. Invited me to a funeral. Something." Full lips pressed together as he shook his head, looking quite taken aback. Glancing to Hilde, he sucked in a short breath and motioned to Apollo with his bottle. "This family... they never keep in touch." Okay, so he could be a little on the clever side when he put his mind to it. But that meant really putting his mind to it, and now his head ached from the effort. At least he had beer!