... Sch-ool? I am just here to toss a ball at people wearing pathetic forms of armor as they run down a thing called a > Anthony Stark

<'football field.' I'm something called a Quarterback... Yes, that's it! Anthony Stark

//Sitting here watching Tony and Bucky like... 'No, but yes.'

[He looks down at where Anthony Stark had touched him.] Tony! Be careful. The man named Coach says my arm is precious.

Mine anaconda doth not

I'm a god, so yes. Normally I would break your arm for even daring to touch me without my permission, but apparently it's not >Anthony Stark

<proper etiquette to do that here. Anthony Stark

[Shoves Anthony Stark into a locker.]

Hehe... puny mortal. [Walks away and leave Anthony Stark inside the locker.]

[Left like three hours ago.] Anthony Stark

Mjolnir isn't the only hammer I possess.

Only poorly endowed men say such things.

Ta-da.

Never mind. I'm good on this end.

[Sits down for lunch. Three whole chickens and a bottle of wine.]

[Glares at the other boy, sliding his chickens closer to himself.] Midgard sustenance is meager to that of Asgard's. Thus, I must eat more.

Oh look. It's the annoying one. [Throws chicken bones at Tony.]

[Goes back to eating his chickens.]

[Pelvic thrust.]

pic.x.com/W9deOsDTdd