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Brian, massively out of place, allows himself to be asked about where he’s going and if he’s sure he’s dressed appropriately once he informs them that he’s going to the party. Brian glares at the help as they ask him about how he’s dressed and stomps away towards the elevator.

The doors open and Brian walks out still dressed in his fatigues which have spots where dirt clings to the jacket and the area around the knees are darkened by some substance that at one point in time may have been motor oil but it’s not easy to tell. He generally smells like three things: sweat, spent gunpowder and soap. Brian himself looks freshly washed, his face is totally clean and shaven, his Mohawk is standing on point to its full three inches and his fingernails, while uneven and untrimmed, are clean.

Brian walks right in and goes straight to the bar not even bothering with social niceties on his way there. Immediately on arrival Brian informs the barman, “depth charge, please.”

The barman stares back with surprise, either at the generally displeasing demeanor his customer has, the generally unpleasant smell emanating from the customer or the unfamiliarity he, the bartender, has with the drink that has just been ordered. In the moment of hesitation Brian rolls his eyes and then says in a frustrated tone, “f*** man, it’s an Irish Car Bomb.” The drink is produced and Brian wastes no time in dropping the shot glass in and slamming the drink. The drink only existed from creation to total consumption for about 15 seconds.

Brian slaps the bartender on the shoulder and says in a clearly happier tone, “that was good man! Got any snacks back there,” Brian adds on the last part as he starts peeking over to the barmans’ side. Wordlessly the barman gestures at the food that has been brought in which causes Brian to abandon the one-sided conversation and start sampling his way down the table which only increased the well-educated and overpaid peoples offense from this man. Now that he’d tried what there was to try he went back with a plate and took large portions of what he must have liked. With a full plate in hand Brian turned to look at the room and what he desired was clearly written all over his face, chair, chair, chair, chair which led him to Petres’ sofa to which his last thought was Sofa’ll do. Without ceremony or social grace Brian sits down on the couch and assumes a greatly lounged position and starts eating. Between mouthfuls of food Brian starts a conversation with his sofa mate, “hi, I’m Brian, I understand you're starting up the Avengers again.”

Jeff walked into the Penthouse. He had changed out of his Dr.Strange outfitt and was wearing a tight black t-shirt and black bootcutt jeans with large black and gold cowboy boots.
He walked over to the bar and sat down,asking the bartender for a magerita.
His muscles flex and buldge under the t-shirt with each movement. He had a massive body at 6 foot 3 and 300 pounds of pure muscle.

The bartender handed him his drink and he went and sat over on the sofa,at the end away from the other two.
He crosses his legs and takes a sip of the icy cold drink.
"Good evening Miss Stark.",he says with a nod to Pete and he glances at the other. He didnt know who he was.......

Probably another freak. Jeff thought. More and more people like him were probably going to join the Avengers. Not that that was a bad thing but Jeff wasnt very social.

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

Petre sat up slowly, as if she was void of energy. What was… her mind trailed but she heard people speaking and blinked back into the penthouse, coming back with reality, rejoining the present. “Uh, hey.” She stared at Jeffery for a moment, nodded, and then noticed there was another guy here that she didn’t know. It took several moments for her to process this, groggy and low on energy and then she tensed and jerked up fully. Oh s**t. The man sitting down by her made her have to force that people were here and she couldn’t zone out, trying to consider if she ought to start smoking or drinking or shooting up with some fantastic drug like every other rich kid in New York. “Clearly the A.I. system needs to be adjusted, I have this vague memory of programming it not to just let random hobos wander in and get up here.” She tapped a phone with a flat screen and pulled a blue-tinted HUD screen off it. It stayed suspended in the air and her small, thin fingers dragged pieces of it around that seemed like unconnected puzzle chunks with strange characters on them. As she was doing that, becoming alive once more, fingers working on some problem but making no indication she was going to kick the stranger out she licked her bottom lip. “Thanks for coming, Jeff.”

Petre checked what she wanted, knowing neither by her could read any of it and to them it would appear as fast moving gibberish. “Well now that there won’t be anymore of you,” She eyed the stranger, deep blue eyes exactly the same as her fathers. Her thin face showing bony cheekbones from how underweight she was but she put out her hand, wrist like a child’s. “Petre Stark, so what’s your sad story?”

Jeff snorted at Brian's persumptious speech.
Hehated this guy already. Hpw nice of him to just walk in and presume that he's better then anyone else here.
More then likely have the avengers could kill this kid without so much of a sweat.
"How cute. Your little pea-shooter can hit someone at over a mile? I can kill a man in a completely different part of the world. Watch what you say about overinflated do-nothing egos.",he said in a low growling voice.

"You sound pretty useless to me.",he added,standing up and walks over and gets a small plate with some fruit and cheese on it.
His the metal on the bottom of his cowboy boots click with each step he takes.
"Which means. Your the one with the over inflated ego.",he finishes as he sits back down on the couch,eating a cheese cube.

"I advise you respcet those you work with,especiall when they can kill you without a second thought.",he says,stopping his rant to hear what Pete had to say.
Surely she wasnt impressed by the kids medicore credidentials.

Brian opens his mouth like he’s about to have some very unkind things to say but Petre starts talking before anything comes out. This went better than expected. Petre informs Brian about shield which seems to placate Brians need to retort. Brian is about to get up when Petre has her exchange with Tony and then the quick changeover from alcohol to a kiddy party seems to break Brians desire to leave. Brian stands up anyway, but to look at the bar area for where all the alcohol went. “Powers and skill don’t impress me, Jeff,” Brian heard Petre say Jeffs name earlier, “the will to use them does.” Brian walks away from the bar after realizing he’d need more than a visual inspection to understand where all the alcohol has gone. “I’ve been on the street cleaning up the city and I haven’t seen you that means you haven’t been doing anything,” Brian makes eye contact with Jeff, “if you think I’m useless that means you must think you’re a waste of resources because you aren’t doing s***. I think I like you though, I think you’ve got the fire to use your skills, why don’t you come out to Hells Kitchen with me? I’d like to work with somebody rather than be in that piece of the third-world alone.” Brian keeps his eyes locked on Jeff; Brian seems to be completely genuine about the invitation. “If you’re half as powerful as you just said I could use your help because those people really need a hero right now and I’m not the sort that America wants to admit it needs to save itself. We could clean it up and you could be the poster boy.” Brian, whom just mere seconds ago was clearly the most offensive man ever born, started sounding like a thinker and a bit of a dreamer.

“Ah, there it is; the good old racism.” Brian smiles thoughtfully and looks at the ceiling. “Oh, I’m thirty-four; and I’m not your boy.” Brian lifts his left hand to eye level showing the missing pinky and tip of the pointer finger than runs his right hand over a burn scar on the right side of his neck that runs down under the jacket, the smile has melted away into a scowl, “I’ve been fighting for this country for a longer than a decade, seen things that a man doesn’t stop carrying with him.” Brian drops his hand back to his side, “I poured my heart and soul into America in a lifetime of war and blood only to see this country is no better for it. Murders, rapes, theft, racism, hate crimes and all the other things humanity has made to make death not seem so bad are all going on right here, and right now at this very instant.” Brian looks at the ground and shakes his head, “I was asked for a resume, I gave it. I didn’t say I didn’t want to hear about your powers, I said I wasn’t impressed that you had ‘em. I didn’t say I wanted you to work for me, I said work with me.” Brian sighs, “I can see you’re going to keep sputtering about how impressed I should be with you and I’m sure any second now you’re gonna to start flying but I’m trying to get a job right now from a family that will likely get me access to resources I’ve not yet even dreamed so I’m gonna f*** off before you try to tell me how long your p***s is ‘cause I’m not really interested.” Brian smiles, turns to Petre to say, “You have a nice place and the food was excellent. Call me if you want me on your team,” he pulls out a notepad which he scribbles out his phone number that he leaves next to his plate and starts walking to the elevator.

"Oh right I'm a racist?!",Jeff yelled.
"Sure I proudly celebrate my mothers african heritage and yet I'm a damn rasict!",he yelled.
He rounded on Pete.
"And this isnt about being a mutant. This boy...Yes I'm calling him a boy becouse he talks like a pissy 16 year old! He walks in here and makes an assumpton about us saying we dont do anything.",he slams the coke down the drink goes flying.
"Listen to what people are saying before talking through your a** kid! I never tried to impress you! I'm just trying to show you that your not the only damn person that actually does anything in this world! I'm tired of everyone tryin to be a damn Martyr!",he screams before a light in the ceiling burst and he sits down at the bar with his head in his arms.

((Hehehe dont take anything personal ^^ Jeff is hot temperd and he is serious about people actually listening to what others say >_< He's like a real life grammer nazi XP))