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

[muckspout]

Edgard raises his hands above his head, spilling some drink. A likeminded person at last!

"Exactly!" He points to his face. "I'm forty-three! Everyone thinks I'm younger! and its good for healing too. Honestly, people just don't understand how great mud is."

He brings his hands down and points at Vanadi.

"You know what? You're a smart person. You're great."

[highborn]

He ducks lightly out of the way of any potential enthusiastic drink spilling, but there's no denying that that's a smile buried into the rim of his own drink. Maybe it's the drink in him, but his savior is a bit endearing.

"True," he says, which it is absolutely not, "And good of you to notice. Is that another benefit of mud, keenness?"

[muckspout]

“Yes!” Edgard responds with unbridled enthusiasm. He takes a long swig of his flask, some of which dribbles down his beard.

“It’s supposed to be good for the-“ Here he taps on his head. “The-the” More tapping. “The thing inside here.” Alcohol is definitely not, however.

[highborn]

"The mind?" he prompts helpfully. "Yes, so I see." He finds himself vaguely concerned this will be taken as encouragement, though, for further extolment of the virtues of mud, so he adds, "And where do we stand on the thought of bathing? Fancy soaps and salts and whatnot."

[muckspout]

Edgard makes an exaggerated stink face and shakes his head.

“No no no no no no.” Edgard makes a gagging noise. “That’s not good for the mind. I took a bath a few weeks ago, not my idea,” He waves his hand.

“Long story. It seemed worth it for a bit, but” He again brings his finger back to the temple. “Mind’s been addled ever since. Dirt, mud, this is what’s natural.”

[highborn]

Ah, he sees where this is going. Nowhere clean, that's where.

Vanadi downs his drink in one go, sets the emptied mug on the sand behind him (it will probably be washed away sooner or later, but that sounds like not his problem), and claps a hand to Edgard's shoulder.

"Come along," he announces, and begins marching the two of them forward, into the water. Or trying to. Brute strength has never been his gift.

[muckspout]

Edgard yelps in alarm. He thought he found an ally here and suddenly the tables have turned.

"Wh-what are you doing?" He says nervously to Vanadi while digging his heels into the sand.

[highborn]

Digging heels in is really all it takes; Vanadi can't out-drag that without a lot of embarrassing effort. He instead shoves at an unmoving shoulder, his smile going a little strained. He thought this might be how it would go, based on limited but compelling evidence.

"Yes, I really think we better -- just for a moment, is all."

[muckspout]

Edgard grabs the hand at his shoulder, a half-hearted attempt to stop it from shoving, and turns to look Vanadi full in the face, deadly serious.

“Why?” It comes out louder than he intends.

[highborn]

So serious. Vanadi's eyebrows arch, but even drunk, he doesn't have the heart to try and coerce anyone into much of anything. So he only heaves a dramatic sigh, making to withdraw his hand and step back -- further into the water, incidentally.

"I suppose just me, then. How lonely."

[muckspout]

Edgard frowns at Vanadi's sigh and let's out one of his own. He puts a hand on his face.

"Don't do that. Don't be all sad."

He waffles a moment and then takes an extra big pull on his flask and steps hesitantly into the water.

"You" He points at Vanadi. "You. Oh, I don't like water." He looks down at his submerged feet frowning.

[highborn]

What a champion. Vanadi hides his smile and takes another step back; the surf washes against the backs of his knees. "And why is that?" he asks, head tipped with a perfect sympathetic act. "It's perfectly warm."

[muckspout]

Edgard just shakes his head.

“Not the temperature. I just don’t. It’s—-I just don’t.”

He steps towards Vanadi, noticeably shuddering at every step.

“Why are we doing this? You like this?” He looks at Vanadi, who seems very comfortable.

[highborn]

"Oh, yes, very much," he says, which isn't true at all. Vanadi is water-ambivalent, unless it's a game of sexy-splashy-splashy, which is always good. He drops a hand, and backs deep enough into the water to trail fingertips through it.

"It's pleasant. More than you realize, maybe. You have enjoyed a swim before, yes?"

[muckspout]

Edgard raises his eyebrows, but continues to slowly follow Vanadi in, breathing at every step. He grits his teeth at the feeling, but looks ahead at Vanadi to distract from it, focusing on his eyes and trailing fingertips.

“Can’t day I have. Swum, yes. Enjoyed it?” He shakes his head.