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

[cozen]

I wouldn’t dare.

[ He tosses the piece of wood from his and Whiskey’s earlier game off in her direction, though far enough away that she’ll still need to do some searching. ]

But who could blame her for losing her senses? I think you must have four or five more vertebrae than other men—so she got that many more bones for the Necropolis out of the bargain. And those nostrils, and that accent, and now you are the third-place finisher in Riftwatch’s first annual Greater Kirkwall Area Summer Swimming Competition! So really, she is the one who has married up.

[bouchonne]

[ That vertebrae joke -- fuckin A+. It takes a lot of effort to put on a puzzled expression instead of cackling. ]

Accent? I don't have an accent. You have an accent.

[cozen]

[ Bastien scoffs and falls back to lounge on his elbows. ]

Non. In Orlais, we speak as the Maker does. Everyone else has strayed.

[bouchonne]

Absurd. We speak Trade just like Andraste did, down in Fereldan.

[cozen]

[ Sing-song: ] Andraste was from Jaaader.

[bouchonne]

You blasphemer. I should exalted march my way over there and beat you up.

[cozen]

[ Bastien snickers. ]

No religious massacres on beach day.

[ He picks up a bit of vegetable, awkwardly, with his elbow still planted in the sand to hold himself up, and throws it sideways at Byerly's torso. ]

I want to tell you something, but you have to promise not to freak out or... pop.

[bouchonne]

[ By turns his gaze towards Bastien, trying to figure out how serious this is. ]

You have my word.

[cozen]

[ He nods, and leans a bit sideways. It's not actually close enough to whisper, but the idea is there. ]

You seem happy.

[bouchonne]

Well, I -

[ He feels a bit self-conscious. ]

I'm fond of the ocean.

[cozen]

[ Bastien smiles, but then he shows some mercy. Maybe. Maybe it isn't actually merciful to say, ]

I can see why. Mostly-naked and glistening in the sun is a good look for you.

[ But it is at least not hammering further on the issue of happiness. ]

How do you swim so fast? Will you show me? I missed most of the race, I was— [ he gestures to Whiskey. ]

[bouchonne]

[ Fortunately, they've flirted enough that By is comfortable offering a flouncy little toss of the head in response to that. Emotions - emotions are difficult. But sex is sex, and it is simply a fact that half-naked and glistening is a good look. ]

Well, step one - figure out a way to be shaped like an eel. So here, Whiskey, you take his feet and I'll take his arms and we'll stretch him out.

[cozen]

I am serious.

[ He's also wiggling his feet invitingly in Whiskey's direction, so not too serious. ]

I can swim, you know, but it is— [ He moves his hands like seal flippers as well as he can without giving up his propped-on-elbows posture. ] —lake paddling. [ With the airy generosity of a lord: ] But we can do it later if you need a rest.

[bouchonne]

No, I'd be overjoyed to show you. Though you may be a bit disappointed. See, in the ocean, it's not actually about you swimming faster - rather, it's about them swimming slower.

[cozen]

[ With the hush of scandal: ]

Because you weighed everyone down with sausages?