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

[hassaran]

Yseult, who has been busy circling around to send the guardian off further in the wrong direction and then delivering one of the broad flat stones Darras has been using for digging to the boy left behind to work on his castle, returns in time to cock an eyebrow at Darras over Edgard's shoulder that's decidedly skeptical.

"Perhaps a swim would improve his day."

[muckspout]

Edgard gives Yseult a distrustful look and then looks back to Darras. He rolls his eyes and then sighs. He pushes his hair out of his face, sending sand flinging backward.

"Get me a drink and I'll let it go. I'll pass on the swim."

He goes from standing to crosslegged next to the pit in one fluid falling motion, sending another wave of sand down with him.

[staysail]

"A mercenary."

Darras sighs, without much weight behind it, and hefts himself out of the pit. Damp sand is crusted on his arms and his hands, and he's a polite enough barkeep to start to brush it off.

"How do you feel about rum? Yseult, stand guard, would you, make sure he doesn't roll in. I don't want him to be buried alive."

[muckspout]

Edgard narrows his eyes at that.

“I won’t fall in! And rum is fine. At least I won’t fall in unless pushed.”

He looks warily at Yseult, his guard.

[hassaran]

Yseult is busy casting a flat look at Darras, but she turns it on Edgard too, for that comment. It very obviously takes in the state of his hair, his face, and his clothing, and finds them wanting. Of a wash, in particular, or perhaps a cleansing fire. "For that I'd require a pole."

[staysail]

Darras laughs. He gives Yseult a kiss on the cheek and an ultimatum, "Be nice," that he doesn't really mean at all, clearly, from both his general tone and the way he winks at her. "You too, Edgard, but I'm not kissing you, mate."

And he sets off to fetch the rum.

[muckspout]

Edgard does not respond to the pole comment, but returns Yseult's flat look. He holds the look as he grabs a handful of sand and tosses it into the pit. He does it again.

He then stops and waits, still not breaking eye contact. He possibly hasn't blinked.

[hassaran]

Yseult casts a look after Darras before turning back to find Edgard staring at her while throwing sand in the pit. She watches for a moment, expressionless, and then turns away to check on the progress of the boy alongside them, still happily building his castle.

"You and Darras met in Orlais, I think?"

[muckspout]

Edgard stops throwing sand in the pit and turns his head away as he answers. He's still pouting, but he'll attempt to be nice.

"We'd met before on a mission, but we were roommates in Orlais, yes. He tried to get the washerwomen to stop singing for me."

[staysail]

The boy goes dashing toward the waterline to snatch up a big seashell that has washed up. He runs back to his castle and places it with reverence upon the recently reconstructed spire of a tower.

Then he kicks it down for himself with a cheer.

Darras reappears and observes this behavior with a little grin. He, against all odds, likes children. And he wouldn't have condoned the ruination of a child's sandcastle, for the record, but watching a child visit destruction upon his own creation, well, that's all right.

He hands Yseult a cup of rum first, then holds the bottle entire out to Edgard to take. The liquid sloshes brightly inside the dark glass, a little less than half full.

"Edgard here has remarkable hearing," he says. "While all others were asleep, he was hearing singing through the floorboards. It's a skill."

[muckspout]

Edgard watches the child knock down his own sandcastle and decides to forgive, at least a little. He still isn't too pleased about being tripped, but will be in better spirits. Despite himself, he grabs the bottle,

"Santé!" He says clinking the bottle on Yseult's glass. "And my hearing has nothing to do with it. It was deafening and endless!"

He takes several great gulps of the rum and smiles, "Very good. Thank you."