lucetilogs | and the bass keeps runnin runnin

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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!]

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[Be it the drink or the dance or exhaustion, by the time Zevran stumbles this far out of the crowd to breathe and find water- and a new shirt he seems to have lost his. For the fifth time. In the past half hour.

Shameful.

As it was he didn't think much of a woman that resembles a dragon. In fact he finds the very idea of it fascinating enough to list over and offer a shuffle of a courteous bow. She is, after all, dressed like nobility.]

Might I ask what manner of dragon you might be, my lady, to be so lovely and compact?

[Vastra sees the shirtless man coming at her, and wonders vaguely if she should step out of the way before he falls over himself and into her. It seems that most of the party-goers are, rather obviously, heavily intoxicated.]

[Though apparently, he wants to talk to her of all things. A half-naked man.]

What manner of dragon? [That's a new one.] I'm nothing of the sort. I am a lizard, and a giant one at that, compared to most species.

Is that not what makes a dragon a dragon? You do not have the wings, true- aside from those given to us upon our arrival but no being of such noble bearing could be anything less than a dragon of some sort.

[Someone to the left stumbles by within arm's reach, and there's not a bat of a lash or a beat missed in what he says as Zev deftly relieves the man of his shirt and shrugs it on.]

Unless, of course, you find it offensive to be called a dragon. In which case I very much apologize for offending you.

It is not offensive in the slightest, simply inaccurate. [Vastra laughs quietly, raising her brows as she watches the man take the shirt, literally, off of someone's back. This man was... something else entirely.]

I cannot breathe fire, I cannot fly, and I have a much higher capacity for intellect. Really, the only thing that separates myself from a human is my outward appearance and circulatory system.

[...and a poisonous tongue, but. When someone comes onto her rather hard she tends to keep her trump card to herself.]

And I wouldn't call myself noble either. If such terms could be applied to dragons where you are from.

It is a very fine outward appearance, I must say.

[He slips his hands into his pockets, and gives a casual shrug. He cannot do anything but appreciate her strangeness from an academic and aesthetic standpoint, to be fair. Not that most know of it. But the strangeness is particularly fascinating. he's never seen the like before.]

In my world? Dragons are harbingers of doom, destruction, and death. Most other worlds seem to deem them noble enough; so I thought it safe to hedge my bets, as it were. It does not do to insult a dragon after all. It typically ends with the offending party eaten.

Well, then I have something in common with dragons. [And she smiles, pleasantly enough. Did she just... imply...]

Where I come from, I am not a terribly welcome sight to criminals. I suppose that makes me a harbinger of doom to some people. But someone has to track the more difficult ones down.

[And then eat them.]

But thank you for the compliment.

[He is not so drunk as to have missed that. Where a normal or sane elf would have blanched and made a hasty excuse Zev finds himself all the more fascinated.

That she handles criminals as well is just that much more interesting.]

You are quite likely the only one I might be able to ask- well. I could ask the others I've met but they were far too concerned with trying to boil me or kill me, but I digress. I have always been curious. What do humans taste of?

[What the--]

[Damn it. He must be so drunk he actually took her meaning. Damn, damn, damn.]

What? [Vastra raises her eyebrows, looking shocked.] What?! No, you misunderstood. I mean that I have status as a harbinger of doom as your dragons do. Do I look so evil that I seem the type to eat humans?

[Apparently...]

One need not be evil to eat humans. I am certain whoever it is you have for dinner may very well deserve what it is they have coming.

[he shrugs, fluid in so many ways.]

As it stands the ones that look evil tend to not be- and those that look good? Tend to have more secrets than most of an unsavory variety. You look neither good nor evil. You simply look unique.

[Vastra looks, for once, rather flustered and indignant. This did not go as planned, at all. She's not used to her wordplay backfiring so badly, especially in front of some flamboyant, shirt-stealing, slang cove.]

[She raises an eyebrow and frowns at the assessment of her occasional diet. Not that she's going to grace that with a comment.]

Diplomatic answer. Most people are neither good nor evil though.

I am an assassin, dear lady. It is not my place to say what makes a man, woman, or lizard good or evil as they are arbitrary labels at best. Good men do cruel things, and evil men may save lives. It is not what we think of them that makes them who they are or what they are.

[And that is more than enough philosophy for one so drunk. He doesn't quite hiccup or crack a laugh, but his smile twists into something wry and only faintly easy.]

Most simply are, yes? It makes life complicated.

[She hadn't pinned him as an assassin, if she's being honest with herself. Eloquent yes, nosy yes, flamboyant yes. But now that Vastra is taking a second look, this man does seem very strong and lithe. Perfect for an assassin. If Vastra was male, she might look that shape too.]

[It does explain that discussion of 'good versus evil' at a wild party with altogether too-loud music. It was probably a topic he thought a great deal about. Vastra knew... on a very personal and close level.]

And thank goodness for that. I'd curse my long life if it wasn't. [Vastra eyes the smile this man is giving her and makes a consideration.] Have you ever eaten a raw steak?

Once or twice- it leaves something to be desired and getting blood out of my leathers is difficult enough when it comes from work- I would rather not add my meals to it.

[But the texture had been...not off putting, but odd. He hadn't cared for it, but he didn't loathe it. Rats, now. Rats he loathed. And spiders. You learn to eat a lot of things when you're a Crow trying to survive.]

Humans taste nothing like that. But that's more or less what it feels like. Like eating something.

[Vastra continues to give him an appraising look, rationalizing that this is one man at a very loud, very drunken party. She could easily cover her tracks if necessary. Most likely.]

Listen. [She takes a step closer, arms folded.] My diet spans many things. There is no reason for panic so I would like to avoid causing anything unnecessary. I haven't eaten anything sentient while here, given the lack of those who 'have it coming'. [Not strictly true but not strictly false--technically when she ate that Shifter on the draft, she wasn't in Luceti.]

Do we have an understanding?

Mmm.

[He can understand that much easily enough. There comes a point when what it is that you eat matters no so long as you have something in your belly. Curiosity sated he drops the line of inquiry easily enough, once again smiling bright, apparently brainless, and lazy.

At least until she steps in, and he out of habit steps forward as well to hear her.]

You wish me to remain silent on the matter? [That went without saying. He has no reason to air the information, but she didn't know that.] I will- for a dance. Well, I will remain silent all the same, but a dance would be lovely.

[Even if she thought he might not have reason, Vastra liked tying her loose ends in nice neat knots. Nothing left unaddressed, no surprises. When she could, she tried to keep it that way.]

[Vastra looks up at him, eyebrow raised as she weighs her options. It wouldn't hurt, it wouldn't help either. And more importantly--]

I am afraid I am unfamiliar with this... style of dance. [And she used the word 'style' extremely loosely.]

The shimmying and shaking and rolling of the hips far better suited to one's bedchambers than to a dancefloor- it is equally foreign to me, but it is fun enough to try. However you appear a- might I call you a Lady? Is that appropriate? As you appear a Lady of discerning tastes I would dance with you properly.

[And despite the drink and sand and strangeness he steps into the picture perfect stance that most might recognize as the beginnings of an open waltz embrace- it has a different name in Antiva, but most things do.]

[Vastra has lived with Strax too long. When the man first asks if she's a lady, her first thought is to confirm that yes, she is a female. But the positioning of his hands clues her in--he thinks she has a noble title.]

I am in fact a lady of discerning tastes, however I am not as self-important as the title suggests. [She steps easily into the stance and takes his hand, her other hand going over his shoulder. Vastra has practice at this, even if she doesn't use the skill terribly often.]

My name is Vastra--before we dance I suggest you give me yours.

A pleasure to meet you, Vastra. I am Zevran Holden-Woods-Arainai. Zev to my friends.

[He grins and finds the beat with an instinctive grace that was partly due to what he is, partly due to practice, and mostly due to not at all caring about what others thought of him.]

[Vastra takes a moment to process all of those names, following along with Zevran's movements. She frowns after a moment--clearly she has enough practice following that she can follow and think at the same time.]

You have Jack and Eugene's last names...? [She doesn't know much about the customs of... whatever Zevran is, however Vastra is wondering if she missed some other marriage ceremony while she was gone.]

Is that not a custom of a married couple, to take the names of those they have wed? Or is it different where you are from? It is certainly the custom in Antiva.

[And it is a custom he very much enjoyed. Mixing their surnames together is quite amusing to Zevran.]

No--yes, it is customary where I am from as well. I was simply... not aware they had married, ah, again.

[And she feels like a heel for it now. Vastra is embarrassed, and she's looking everywhere but at Zevran now. It's also not customary for someone to have two spouses where she is from.]

It is an unconventional arrangement, even for me.

[Terribly odd, but he's terribly proud of the fact that he has two handsome men to call his own. Enough so that he doesn't mind her embarrassment or comment on it.]

And a very quiet thing for the most part. Most Antivan weddings end with at least one murder and I wished to avoid that.

[Well, whatever floats everyone's boat, apparently. It wasn't as though Vastra had never heard of polygamy, plenty of other species practiced it quite happily in other dimensions and other planets. However she reasoned that humans, being what they were, tended to keep one spouse and avoid taking another and incurring things like resentment and jealousy. Not to mention they all lived so long in comparison to most polygamist species--the offspring alone could overrun the planet.]

[But maybe Zevran's people compensated for polygamy by simply murdering someone at the wedding. It was a form of population control...]

How... [She's got nothing.] Nevermind. I suppose I owe you all another wedding gift, though. Terribly late as it is.

Honestly? I am still sorting out how it should go. For the most part I follow Jack and Eugene's lead.

[They seemed to know what they were doing. When it came to carnal matters Zev understands entirely. Matters of the heart? He avoided in the past and now that he was thoroughly mired in it he still has no idea which way is up. Through them and the books he tends to hoard he figures that, in time, he'll manage on his own.

If not the boys will help him back along the right path in time.]

You owe us nothing, really. You can give the boys something if you wish but I truly- elves do not receive wedding gifts.

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eversohungry - 2013-07-31 19:27 (UTC) - Expand

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