lucetilogs | and the bass keeps runnin runnin

Entry tags:

and the bass keeps runnin runnin

Who: Anyone who heard the announcement, caught a flier in the plaza, of heard by word of mouth. Everyone's welcome!
What: A rave! Well, "rave." Luceti makes everything a little different.
When: June 21st, nightfall to early morning
Where: the beach near Adele's house
Summary: It's the first day of summer! This calls for bonfires, naturally, but why not spice it up with loud music, flashing lights, drinks, dancing, and a conspicuous lack of curfew?
Rating: PG to PG-13, please move anything steamier to appointments ~~or Adele will take the hose to you~~

Getting all the firewood, food, and drink out to the beach had been, honestly, the hardest part of preparation. Whatever else one might say about running things on magic, it certainly did cut down on the trouble of constructing edifices and machines to run the entertainment side of a party. As it stands, the setup is labour-intensive but otherwise minimal, and there's not much to do by sunset. Escape the house before Max and Zevran, the culture-displaced madmen, can put any more eyeliner on him. Arrive at the beach. Light the bonfires. Make sure the bonfire-cooking-compliant food is set out. Put up a table loaded with bottles, cups, ice, and permanent markers. Thank the resident doctor and quartermaster once more. Plug in the stereo system.

The speakers and light show have been with him since he left his house, in the form of the resident god of mischief, and they confer over sheets of paper with track names and times written on them for a little while just before the start. That's the last of it, and by the time the sky above the mountains is beginning to darken into twilight, the first thumping, trilling strains of dance music begin to echo out across the sand.

It's the shortest night of the year. Best make every second last.

[OOC: Feel free to post your character for mingling, since this entire event is very free-form anyway. For everyone's enjoyment there is a drinks table, food, several bonfires, the ocean (lifeguards not on duty, splash drunkenly at your own risk), and of course a dancing area with lights and music. Music will probably be primarily EDM with a heavy bass line, but occasionally wander into the territories of electro-swing and the like to give even less modern partygoers a chance to show off. The light show as well will stray out of the typical at times, with the expected abstract wheeling and flashing lights giving way to more complicated illusions. Don't be surprised to find yourself and your fellows occasionally dancing in a forest glen or a Rivendell look-alike for a few minutes at a time. Loki is working the tech booth, after all.

The party will go as long as people stay and are enjoying themselves, so have fun and tag around!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Now that's cheating. Just a little," he grins, giving her a kiss and subtly taking a taste from her lips before pulling away again.

"Do you want me to kiss the bruise later and make it better?" It's easy banter, and, like banter in recent days between them, was good natured and cheesy as hell. But they both seemed to enjoy it, so he was keeping up the tradition.

He'll keep a steady hold on her waist, both admiring the balance and enjoying the feel of her foot wrapped around his leg. He enjoyed the little touches between them like this. A connection they might not otherwise allow themselves.

"You never told me I had to play fair." She smirks against his lips, leaning after him for a moment to continue it for just that much longer.

The comment about the bruise earns a contemplative look and she is, truly, thinking it over for a moment, very much liking the idea of his lips there and his smile from that angle before another thrum in the music has her shrugging and tipping her head to rest against his shoulder. Comfortably twined and not at all thinking about the several different dances that start like this. Nope.

"True. Not that I mind if you cheat, anyway. I kinda like it."

He'll slide his arms around her for a moment when the music first starts, gently tracing her spine through the shirt and the feathers there. After a moment though, it's apparent he's having the same not-thoughts about certain dances as he starts to move them both a little.

"Do you have a dance for me, beautiful? Or will I have to wait for the next round?"

"I shall endeavor to cheat more often." It's easy to lean up to nuzzle the side of his neck, so she does. With how he's tracing her spine and wings, why not? Whatever consideration she might give that is set aside when he moves and she shifts accordingly, following without thought or comment. "A dance for you, Derek? Always."

She slips away enough to find her feet and adjust her posture to match the beat, hand curled in his. "If, that is, you can keep up."

He gives a quiet, pleased hum when she nuzzles him and then settles into proper position as well. It's been years, with only a few times in that span, that he's danced properly. but with his other training, and the control he has over his owm movements, it will come back quickly enough.

He'll give her a challenging grin, already leading into the first steps.

"Try me."

He leads and she follows, and it's instinctive and right and actually proper. no mere white man shuffle, no grind or odd gyrating as the others in the rave are enjoying, but actual ballroom posture and pace. Proper steps and classical movements to modern, manic music. It feels almost anachronistic, and somehow he makes it work.

"Color me surprised."

He smiles, keeping pace and managing to hit the steps in time with the beat of the music.

"Learned a lot of things before I started hunting vampires. This was one of the ones I enjoyed. Helps that I liked music classes too."

He'll lean his cheek against hers for a moment when the steps call for them to get close.

"And I like the way you move." And then they're out again to proper distance.

This was turning out to be an enjoyable evening.

For a moment she can't remember if this Derek, with what he knew and remembered of the village now knew her as anything other than a physician. But only until he starts to brag, just a bit. She snorts and hooks her leg around his once more when they pull close; but rather ankle around ankle it's thigh around thigh as is proper for this form.

Properly indecent, at least.

"I was a dancer before I was ever a surgeon." She murmurs with a smile before they pull apart, and she's ready to take the next few steps however he wants.

He chuckles, leading into the next round and they're close again. Which he'll intentionally hold, his hand in the right place at the small of her back...if not sitting properly still while he traces a few circles there.

"That explains the grip." Oh yes, he went there.

"Maybe you'll have to teach me better moves when we have time."

Alone.

"I would need to know what moves you are familiar with first." Was that a challenge? By the press of their hands and the alignment of their bodies, along with the way her lips twitch just so? It likely is. And how fun is it to have a proper dance partner- not that there is anything wrong with a waltz. But now and then something latin and wild is exactly what the doctor ordered.

The fact she just thought that to herself is fairly indicative that she's at least somewhat tipsy. What was in that bottle?

"So, beach boy. Show me."

"As the lady asks," he grins, pulling her just a little closer, teasing her to her toes with his hands on her waist, and then taking one hand to twirl her back out and away.

It was on.

That, she will later admit (except for the part where she truly won't,) threw her. Even with dance classes and music classes pre-vampire hunting beach bums and surfer boys did not know classical, Blackpool caliber ballroom. It simply was not the way the world works.

Except this is Luceti and, apparently, it truly is as she finds herself set into position and loosed like a hawk from it's jessings. She doesn't let her surprise register in anything other than a laugh as she uses that momentum to pull herself back in, leg once again curling in to lock around his thigh as she leans into him for support. "Excellent form."

"Nice return," he replies quietly. The tone is still teasing, but he's also starting to focus now, his gaze intent as he traces his hands back up her sides again, down her arms, coaxing her into a backward arch. he brings them almost flush at the hip, waiting for her next move in response.

They haven't danced before. Not like this. They don't know each other's limitations or comforts, strengths or weaknesses- but there's nothing to fall on but sand and room enough that it won't hurt. That makes the choice easy for Adele. She arches- and lets her other leg come up as well, locking it in place around his waist and letting Derek have the whole of her weight as she goes all but limp from the hips up, curving backward in a sharp arc.

His hand and arm slide easily behind her to support her, hopefully leaving no doubt that he has control and will by no means be dropping her. He lets her hang, stretch, feel the ground pull at her, before bringing her up again, that one arm still around her waist and that hand bracing the small of her back while he seeks out her other hand so that they can match steps across the floor.

She holds the pose a moment- attempting to reorient herself and keep the bottle yet in her hands from spilling. It's a near thing so when she pulls herself back up she takes a long swig. The lighter the bottle, the easier it is to handle. Logic. She has some on occasion. Grinning through the pleasant burn she offers him much of the same, sliding back to her feet in such a way that she's more entwined with Derek than not even when she is on her own two feet.

Entwined, he'll take the moment to gently pull the hand with the bottle to his lips, taking a drink himself before carefully kissing the inside of her wrist and putting that hand, and the bottle, back into proper position. He'll slide his own leg up, a tease before he turns away, letting her go with all but one hand.

Playful. She doesn't know why she expects him to be anything but playful and contradictory anymore. Teasing earns teasing in turn as she steps back into position, following the lead he set with his hands and his hips, legs darting in and around his as they move through the crowd.

It's been a long time since he's wanted to be playful, and she only encourages him in her own way, just by being herself. He'll smile at her as they make their way across the floor, and it's both open and intimate and quickly gone to be replaced with the same intent look he started the dance with. But it was there, for a second, just for her. A thank you and a part of him that he meant only for her to see in that second.

When they reach the end of he floor, he stops, ready to let her take the lead...at least for the moment.

It means something, that smile. Small and private and not something for most to see and she nearly loses her step for the realization. For her this is well and good and fun and comfortable. Relaxing and without definition and without the drowning weight of any serious romantic intent behind it. She can't- won't let herself fall into that trap again.

And yet here is a normally paranoid man baring that sort of vulnerability to her-

She sets the thought aside. Focuses on the dance. On stepping forward into his space and ghosting her lips across his before darting back in a spin, pulling free entirely for a few half steps in the sand. Come and get me, she thinks.

If he notices the shunting away, he gives no sign. The smile he gives her for the kiss is much like the ones earlier in the evening; playful and teasing and asking nothing of her. Just appreciating the moment. And when she leaves him completely for those hanging seconds, he lets the moment drag a little.

Will he or won't he?

But then he catches the next beat, and her, leaning into her until the next flight out of his hands, which trail down her arms to tease at her fingers.

He will. She knows that, somehow. It isn't quite a certainty but she knows in this moment? He wants to give chase. After all he is a hunter and that comes with a particular set of instincts and habits.

As little as she likes to think of herself prey it is remarkably applicable for the moment.

She leans into him, fingers tight around his and head tilting just that much to the side, baring just a bit of her throat to him.

He lets himself go flush against her, tangling their fingers together, teasing at that bared neck with a near miss of his lips as he traced from jaw to shoulder, and then he's moving again, bringing her around to face him, still staying as close as the steps will allow.

He knows she's teasing him with this chase and stop, and he lets her do it to him, even as he knows it's nothing but the illusion of being 'prey' for her. It's enough that she knows the game, and that she's willing to play it out, that gets him intently watching every move, anticipating the next time she'll break away, teasing at him to follow.

For the moment she's content to be caught and held through a few turns. Glad to move and be moved, to lead and follow and enjoy this flirtatious give and take in the middle of a sea of writhing bodies and music so loud it is not so much heard as it is felt. The key and the tempo seem to change just so, and that is when she spins away- billowing sleeves and loose hair flaring and flying about her slim form until she's almost, but not quite, lost to the crowd.

He'd have to work a little harder to catch her this time, and it will give her a moment to take a swig from the rune marked bottle.

He'll laugh as she goes, letting her nearly disappear from view. Tease.

He'll let himself be slowed down by the intervening people between them, matching his movements with them as he worked through the crowd to catch up. As the other dancers surged and swayed to the music, he did actually lose sight of her a few times.

And decided to take advantage of it.

Working around, disappearing from sight himself, when he finally did catch up with her, it was from the opposite direction and from behind, his hands and arms catching her waist and hips before wrapping around her.

and the bass keeps runnin runnin

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)