The god smiled as he watched the boisterous man raise a glass, and offered a nod as he raised his glass in return. With a slight gesture he invited the man to take a seat, pausing to fill both their glasses for a moment, before quietly speaking up. Even over the noise of the crowd, and the background music playing on, Apollo's melodic voice could be heard clear as day. "I must admit that I am a tad rusty, but a few centuries of slumber or so have done little to dull my voice. Truth be told your kind has done well for themselves of late and I am quite proud to be their patron muse."
While he lacked the vanity that his brethren often possessed, Apollo was never one to turn down praise. With a light chuckle he took another sip of the aged scotch, and after setting his glass done the god offered an outstretched hand. "Apollo son of Zeus, at your service!"