The Best Party in New York

The tension was slowly dying down from the party as more were coming between him and the woman, the mortal that fashioned herself into a paladin. This new man was odd, he could feel the love coming off him, it was strange. Another meta human, no there was a taste of divinity. There were a lot of gods here. Well it is expected, he was not just some random meta-human. He was the child of an outer god, a being whose mere word could end entire realities and dimensions. Kade took in a deep breath, separated from them and retrieved a slice of red velvet cake. Kade preferred vanilla or German chocolate cake.

"Let's all calm down, this is a celebration, not a fight. There is plenty of cake for everyone and beer. I am Kade, and I am just a man who wants to see people happy. I am not a god, nor a meta human, just a man." He passed it to Amour. He also poured glasses of ale and set down on a table for anyone to drink, attempting to calm the situation.

”Thank you thank you!” Amour responded with an all too pleasant tone, taking the cake offered and quickly taking a forkful of the treat. ”Just a man, well that’s a little questionable. Dude you’re like 10 foot tall! You’re at least a goliath or a...biblically accurate nephilim?” He cocked his head to the side, examining the demi-eldritch god. That was what he knew of the man, or the child? Judging the ages of non-mortals was always so difficult. Those pink eyes turned to Speedrun, arcing a brow and his smile widening even larger.

”Speedrun huh? Think you’d be willing to take a selfie with me? You’re kind of a small digital celebrity. “ He seemed to sidle up to the speedster with cellphone posed to take pictures of the two of them and one arm slung over him.”It true the rumors about you and Frontline? Oh look at me I’m sounding like a huge gossip.” The snap of a camera and he was already moving.

“I don’t really care what you are but I don’t exactly approve of the blatant lying.” Vera said seeming to ignore the energetic social media expert.

Amour however already had his attention on Quickdraw now. ”So what’s the deal? Cosplaying as a sexy cowboy just a thing you do or is it legit? You have no idea how popular a cowboy vigilante would do in this days market!”

Cas just seemed almost overwhelmed with what was happening, eyes just blankly looking between everyone and lips pressed into a forced smile.

"Well..." David/Quickdraw started in his laid-back Texan drawl to Amour. "The story on that is a good century an' a half old. Ya'd have to go as far back as what the history books call the 'American Civil War'. Ran with a gang, went straight, do bounty work to this day. That's my life in the smallest package you can put it in."

David chugged down the strongest thing he could, loosening himself up. Out of at least a modicum of respect for the party's host, he removed his hat from his head - it was worn from leather that had been repeatedly exposed to the elements and then repaired. His Duster was similarly ripped and repaired over time. Anything else was clearly made with newer material. "When I'm not huntin', I'm drinkin' like this. Was on my way to the airport from a hunt up north when I came across this party. Needed a drink and...well, here I am."

"Short answer: half of what I'm wearin' is from back in the day," David said. "Rest of it is reproductions - not very good reproductions, either. Woulda' loved to meet Clint Eastwood in person to let him know just how much about the Old West attitude he got down - from the slang to the wardrobe."

"So, the best bounty I ever took...well, it's not somethin' that they teach about World War Two in the history books," David said.

When the war in Europe was at its peak, the July 20 plot of Operation Valkyrie was put into effect. Officially speaking, it failed. In reality...the conspirators got the wrong guy. The Allies didn't need a discontent officer, or one of their own secret agents to bump off the face of evil. Allied Command needed someone who had traveled Europe, witnessed the downfall of the Weimar Republic, who knew the geography of the nation in and out, and who had spent every second around the man memorizing every detail about him - every facial feature, the exact tone of his voice, all of his habits, and even the posture with which he walked.

They didn't want a good hunter, or even a great one...they wanted the best. And they attracted him with the biggest bounty that had ever been offered in history to get him. They wanted somebody who could shadow him for months upon months before getting close enough to put a bullet in the skull of history's most vile man. In September of 1944, he found him. David had caught him isolated and shot him dead in his office with a clean shot to the head with a 9mm round, getting out with no one the wiser.

The war should have ended there, and David had the payday of a lifetime. But everyone underestimated how far the fanaticism went. They just trotted out another charismatic body double and the war raged on. That was who shot himself in that bunker in Berlin was a double - David Crenshaw had already killed the real deal.

"I woulda retired with that money for offing that scum," David said. "I didn't...I'm too good at my job to retire."

Mason was blindsided by the man asking for a selfie, while in his current mood, he would attest, there was something about the man that just felt welcoming to the speedster. He even smiled softly for the picture, which felt good. “Wait, what rumors?” He stated, but the man was already walking away. He turned back to the tall man, who was trying to move on from the situation. “So how do you explain being ten feet tall, then?”  

“I don’t really care what you are but I don’t exactly approve of the blatant lying.”

Mason sighed as he looked to the lady with the sword, who clearly had some unsettled issues to go over, and was going to settle them one way or another. He had already seen enough death and destruction in the past few weeks, the last thing he needed was the “Human” and sword lady to throw down, and risk hurting bystanders. “Okay, ya know what, screw this.” He suddenly disappeared from the view of anybody without super enhanced perception. A gust of wind consistently whipped about as the crowd of bystanders started to dwindle, until the room was empty, save for people involved in the direct conversation. The doors had been barred with chairs, so no one could just wander back in.  

“Okay, so let’s try this one more time...” Mason reappeared right in the middle of the group, looking from the tall man to the sword woman, speaking in a louder, firmer tone. “What is the issue here?”

"You came to my party and disrupted the people of their fun. You don't get to make demands of me. I am not lying, you can do your little truth spells and see the truth. You already soured the mood but regardless, I still have more cake that I can give to the shelters. What do you do? Harasss people at parties, the ruin of the party? Not like you helped the homeless, this is why the people don't like meta humans, and lowly gods, stuff like this.  I will do one better so you can piss off." Kade did a gesture and he did the truth spell on himself." I am just a man. And yes if you aren't magically stupid you will notice I did a truth spell." Kade had lost his temper  and already was packing up the cakes. He will give them to the homeless shelter so the less fortunate can enjoy the goodness of cake.