and the bass keeps runnin runnin

[250mhzwabl]

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!]

Comments

[z_jay]

[Seeing Jack in his element like this was fun, a far cry from the preconceived notions of a panicked journalist on the run from a horde of newly christened rave-zoms, eager for his brains. But each time Jack would snag him or he would snag Jack into a dance things narrowed down to just the two of them, a little slower than the rest of the world. There was something primal and familiar here, not nearly as off-putting as coming here alone otherwise might.

It was a mixture of lights, sound, jubilation, a showing of being alive and as loud as possible, where he would normally feel a bit hesitant to let things get this raucous. Even if he stumbled, Jack was there to catch him, and he stumbled also. It... was as though their time in a zombie apocalypse was far behind them and all that was left was being with one another.

It was intoxicating, this feeling. He never wanted to leave. So when Jack dragged him off toward the shore he grinned and purposefully drew him close, hands cupping his face just to look at him. Every sweaty, loud, beaming, bright-eyed bit of him]

I think I love you-- no, wait, I'm sure of it.

[250mhzwabl]

[Jack stumbles to a stop sloshing about in the waves, unsteady with drink and the force of tides buffeting legs, and maybe a little with the way Eugene settles warm hands onto his cheeks, fingers curled up into his hair, drawn close and curled against him, tall and solid and so stupidly romantic that he couldn't help but catch the heel of one of his hands in a gentle nip before kissing it soundly.]

Good. The return policy on me is rubbish.

[z_jay]

No way in hell am I returning to sender, that's just... no.

[Drawing his head in, he soundly kissed Jack's forehead before a wave sloshed over them and whatever footing he'd had was lost. With a soft yelp he dragged Jack down with him into the water, though instinct had him shoving so Jack's head didn't submerge. Drunk with slightly unsure balance-- not a stellar plan, and he cracked up, softly at first, before the absurdity of it hit him harder than it should. By now he was too comfortable to push himself up and rested his elbows in the sand, feeling the water lift and drop him with each wave]

Can honestly say I'd trade the world for you. If I was here alone, I wouldn't wanna be here.

[No matter the conveniences and the people he knew, friends he'd made-- all of it would be trumped by a chance to have Jack again, and as sappy as it was he knew it was true. Jack... really did make him do stupid things]

This is also so much more romantic than making out in the gas station.

[tw: talk of man-kisses]

[250mhzwabl]

[Of all the ways to have a heartwarming moment interrupted, your still-rehabilitating, many-pounds-heavier boyfriend being knocked over by a wave and dragging you into the surf was one of the best. Jack wasn't long in following Eugene in laughter, far more raucous and gleeful, soaked from the shoulders down and half-draped across Eugene by the time they settled.

He grinned, nuzzling at his neck, taking earnest affection and humour with equal appreciation.]

Were we even going for romantic at that point? I thought the priority was getting our tongues into one another's mouths as quickly as humanly possible.

Re: [tw: talk of man-kisses]

[z_jay]

I was going for romantic-- you just don't know my mysterious Canadian mating methods. It just so happens that swapping spit is one of those ways.

[But how often was Jack the one who came out on top? He gave him a slightly suggestive lifting of his lips before looking him up and down, snickering at the end of it.]

Though I do prefer this to... to having to keep watch for zoms by moonlight.

[he could taste the seawater that had splashed up on Jack's face, one hand clutching at the center of that mesh shirt and quietly admiring how very smooth his shaven face was]

No one's gonna miss you for going away for a few minutes, are they?