OPEN LOG: A beach party.

[bouchonne]

WHO: Everyone.
WHAT: A beach party.
WHEN: On a very hot day. At some point during the month.
WHERE: A beach just outside of Kirkwall.
NOTES: It is a beach party.

During a particularly hot and oppressive week in Kingsway, the Diplomacy division announces it will be diverting some of its funds to organize a party on a nearby beach. Kirkwallers are invited as well - a relationship-building sort of effort - but the party is mostly intended for morale boosting for Riftwatch itself.

The party features the following:

• Transportation to this lovely beach from the Gallows and from Kirkwall.


• Sunbathing and swimming in skimpy (or non-skimpy, if you're a fuckin square) bathing suits.


• Live music and dancing.


• Delectable grilled meats (and some vegetables, if you're a fuckin square).


• Rum drinks served in hollowed-out fruits.


• A sandcastle-building competition.


• A swim race.


• A few fun little sailboats bobbing around out on the water.

Does all that sound too wholesome? Great! There's also a cave system in the cliffs next to the beach. These little grottos are full of nooks and crannies and are perfect for a bit of sinful action after dark; in one cavern, there'll be some gambling games where some of Kirkwall's citizens are losing money; in another, you're likely to run into people making out.

Have fun! Soak up sun! Don't get in trouble! Or do, whatever, it's a beach party.

Comments

d

[altusimperius]

[A bit tipsy and sleepy from working and carousing in the sun all day, Benedict is leaned against the same wall with a drink in his hand and a pleasant smile on his face.]

Maybe they're not.

[bouchonne]

Such scandal.

[ He doesn't sound particularly shocked. ]

I suppose anything can happen at this party. It's like early, hot Satinalia.

[altusimperius]

Is this the sort of party you warned me about?

I'd rather like to see one.

[bouchonne]

Oh, no. No, this is tame.

[altusimperius]

That's good. Otherwise, I'd wonder what I'd been missing.

[He sips from his drink.]

It's been good, though. Spirits have been high.

[bouchonne]

It's helped by how many spirits have been consumed.

[ He taps on his own drink. ]

[altusimperius]

So it is.

[He lapses into silence for a while, breaking it only to stifle a yawn against the back of his hand.]

Have you gotten what you wanted out of it?

[bouchonne]

Why, dear Benedict, I wanted nothing more than joy, of course.

[altusimperius]

Theirs or yours?

...or both, I suppose.

[bouchonne]

Always theirs. I'm an incredibly selfless man. That's all I crave.

[altusimperius]

Ah, yes. That much is always clear.

[bouchonne]

My sacrifices are plentiful and noble. That's what you say about me when people ask you, what's Byerly like, right?

[altusimperius]

I would if anyone ever didn't already know what you're like.

[bouchonne]

Are my misdeeds so notorious?

[altusimperius]

Isn't that how you prefer it?

[bouchonne]

Of course not. I'm persecuted and treated cruelly.

[altusimperius]

By whom?

[bouchonne]

Everyone, of course. Don't you think it hurts to be treated like a villain?

[altusimperius]

Well.

...yes.

[That strikes a cord.]

It does, but... isn't the solution to treat other people better?

[bouchonne]

I have treated you wickedly, eh?

[altusimperius]

[A scoff and an eyeroll-- he's not taking the bait.]

I mean, not constantly trying to catch people out in everything they say. Misunderstanding them on purpose.

[Kind of like you're doing now, the unspoken subtext.]

[bouchonne]

Ah. Is that an evil thing to do, dear fellow?

[altusimperius]

Not evil, but not kind. You know it makes them feel small and stupid.

[He twists his lips and looks into his drink.]

...I know, I haven't had much room to talk.

[bouchonne]

Oh no? Have you been endeavoring to make people feel small and stupid?

[altusimperius]

Yes. Actually.