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

PUPPY TIME

[vorbratta]

[ whiskey is not sonia's responsibility, and so she spoils the puppy horrendously. the dog doesn't need to steal anyone's food; sonia happily shares it with her. with her nieces and nephews far away in ferelden, she needs somebody to dote on.

now they have taken up playing in the water, sonia laughing and splashing while whiskey runs around barking in the shallows, kicking up water and sand and occasionally coming up with a bit of seaweed hanging off one ear. sonia is tossing a rubber ball out onto the water's edge for whiskey to catch and retrieve, but this time her aim goes a little wide, and whiskey dutifully kicks sand all over byerly in her pursuit of the ball before turning around and kicking up more sand as she bounds back towards the water. sonia's laughter is crystal clear. ]

Byerly, come over here! She wants to play!

[bouchonne]

And you're doing a perfect job of it.

[ By, stretched out lazily in the sand, contentedly brushes the sand off himself each time he gets covered. ]

Keep at it - if you tire her out, I won't have to exercise.

[vorbratta]

[ her pout is unfortunately only effective at close range, but she makes a face at him anyway as whiskey drops the ball with a splash into the shallows at her feet. she crouches down to pick it up, directing her conversational tone towards the dog. ]

You are cursed with a lazy father, little Whiskey. But when it's winter and the towers are very cold at night, you'll remember who your favorite auntie is, won't you?

[ whiskey barks, and sonia throws the ball again -- too far on purpose this time, so that when the dog runs past, she kicks sand over byerly's face. ]

[bouchonne]

[ Okay, that's a bit much. A grain of sand gets in his eye, and he sits up with a yell of pain. ]

Ow, fuck!

[vorbratta]

[ sonia stifles a snort as whiskey brings the ball back to her. still, she shakes the water off her feet and trots up the beach, handing him a canteen of water to rinse his eye. ]

Oh, it's only sand, you big baby. Weren't you bragging to me about how you got stabbed at Ghislain when I came back last year?

[bouchonne]

[ Gee, thanks, Sonia. ]

Certainly. See for yourself.

[ As he blinks rapidly, and tries to tip the water into his eye, he lifts an edge of his shirt to reveal some of the scarring. Which is actually quite nasty - ragged and deep, a marker of a wound that was quite life-threatening. One of a number, as it turns out: By's time here has not been easy. Which is not something he'd normally draw attention to, but he's feeling a little spiteful right now. ]

So I'll go blind now to go along with it.

[vorbratta]

[ oh. well, that does take the fun out of it. sonia's wicked smile deflates, her brow knitting together in a too-familiar look, the one that always appears on her face whenever she worries about byerly. that is...a far nastier scar than she'd imagined. ]

I didn't know it was that bad.

[ because of course he wouldn't have told her. even if she'd asked, he'd have spun her a lie better suited to laughter than the concern he always takes for pity. whiskey nudges impatiently at the hand holding the ball, and she tosses it back to the shoreline. ] 

[bouchonne]

[ Ah, he made a mistake. Well, he tries to salvage it, still blinking one eye intensely - ]

Teach you not to mock my heroism.

[vorbratta]

[ she has faith that his eye will pull through. and obviously that war wound is an old scar by now, and he's always withheld so much from her, for reasons she can only suspect, but there are places she doesn't pry out of trust. this, though -- this is a fight they are in together, if sonia can be said to be in the fight at all.

but she doesn't have any more interest in bringing down the mood than he does, so she just gives him a sly grin as whiskey returns and drops the ball at her feet. ]

My cousin, the hero. [ a little sing-song, as though she might burst into war ballad at any moment. fortunately for everyone's ears, she does not. ]Careful, dear Byerly. Too many remarks like that and people really will think you've abandoned all pretense of being a good-for-nothing lout.

[bouchonne]

[ A final blink, and the grit comes out, carried out of his eye and over the edge of his lid. ]

Pretense? You know it's the reality.

[vorbratta]

[ sonia laughs at that, light and silvery, and reaches down to scratch whiskey behind the ears. ]

You know I'm the last person you'll ever really convince of that.

[bouchonne]

Really? You never thought it of me? At least a little?

[ He watches fondly as Whiskey closes her eyes in rapture, making a little noise kind of like a snore, or a purr, in the back of her throat in sheer contentedness. ]

[vorbratta]

Hmm. [ sonia smiles a little, touching her chin with her free hand. ] There was that time you spent in Orlais, and I hardly heard from you. For a short time I was thoroughly convinced you had abandoned me, and in my darkest moments I thought I'd never forgive you for it. But when I heard what you'd been up to, I realized that wasn't the case at all. The feeling vanished without a trace.

[ that trying time is one of those few places sonia does not pry without invitation. there is still very much she does not know, but she knows with certainty that it had been no act of cruelty against her. whiskey's tail beats a happy rhythm against her leg, lightly spraying sand with every wag. ]

You've never been truly cruel to me, not once.

[bouchonne]

I wasn't after sincerity.

[ He grabs her bare foot and tugs at it - not roughly, just rather chidingly. ]

But you know that sort of comment is an invitation for me to say something terribly cruel.

[vorbratta]

[ she grins, heartlessly. ]

You spin the Sonia Barra roulette wheel, you don't always get what you ask for. [ she wriggles her toes against his arm in light retaliation, sticking her tongue out. ] Oh, go on. I know you won't really mean it.

[bouchonne]

[ He intones, solemnly: ]

You snore like a lumberjack.

[vorbratta]

[ sonia lets out an enormous pfffffft, blowing a piece of hair from her face. ]

I do not! Someone would have told me by now.

[bouchonne]

[ Innocently: ]

Someone just did. A few seconds ago.

[vorbratta]

[ she glares at him, pouting outrageously. ]

You don't count. 

[bouchonne]

I count more than anyone. Who was sleeping near you in that blasted jungle, hm?

[vorbratta]

Lots of people were sleeping near me. How could this be the first I'm hearing of it?

[bouchonne]

Everyone else is polite. I, I speak truth to an oppressive power.