Bobby Drake / OTA Multiples Welcome
Any excuse to party. It was cathartic, even among strangers, a way to expunge the tension of inaction and of being unable to do anything to change their current situation. That's totally what Bobby was thinking about.
Yeah, no.
"Boozecicles, get'cha boozecicles, something to suck on while your friend tells you all about 'that one time they totally saved the world.' Shaped like dicks 'cuz it's what you're thinking about, eyyy."
Mostly they were shaped like dicks because that's what the cake was and Bobby figured it was better to stay in theme. He didn't have anything to do that night, so why not do what he could to spread some light-hearted fun? Currently, that fun took the form of touring around the bar shirtless in his tight jeans with a bow made of bright blue glacial ice hugging his neck. His torso was coated with frost, causing it to sparkle when hit by the light. In his hand he'd conjured a tray of ice that held a series of popsicles he'd whipped up with bits of fruit soaked in different kinds of booze. A nice treat, especially when you needed to slow down after taking a few shots.
And so the arctic shot boy traveled from group to group, offering the tray with a bright smile and a wink.