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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[Jack lets him move off and follows easily, cranking open the water bottle and taking a swig for himself.]

God, I have no idea how you learned to twerk like that in maybe fifteen seconds. It's like you had some sort of repressed memory of spending years at it. [He nudges the bottle at him again, closer to his hand, more firmly.] Drink.

Now that is a simple question to answer.

[He takes the bottle easily and downs most of it in one go. He'd been in the mix of bodies and sweat and lost a shirt only to gain another one somewhere in the middle of it. Twice. he'd gone in wearing blue and has come out wearing something silky and red.]

I simply remember how it is to ride a horse- and how it is to ride a man.

[Even without anything to drink himself, Jack chokes on his own laugher, braying delight with the comparison. It works, he supposes - at least, on the latter front. He has absolutely no experience with horses.]

You've just found all the skill-sets that tie together, haven't you?

I have most certainly tried, Argento.

[Zev grins and takes another long swig of water, finishing the bottle.]

[It's an easy saunter down the beach, away from the rave and into the quieter atmosphere of sea breezes and cooling sand underfoot. Jack feels himself settle with it, and reaches between them as they walk, taking Zevran's hand and twining their fingers in a steady clasp In the joyous chaos of dance and music he can grasp more, twist and press and hold almost like things are the same. But away from that, in the darkness, intimacy is palm against palm and the freedom to not have to shout every word.]

You like it, then? All of this?

[He weaves and bobs along next to Jack as they wander, pulling out his earplugs once they are a safe distance away. It did feel so odd to plug them up but without it would have been maddening and painful. A little discomfort to preserve his hearing is well worth it. He settles into an easy pace next to Jack, now and then bumping shoulders with him.]

The party? It is different, but quite fun. I can see why you enjoy such gatherings.

And how you can miss the end of the world at one.

[The reference to a story Zevran's been told comes on an almost nostalgic note, laughing and fond, because what else is there to do but laugh. He could think of so many better places he could have been at the outbreak, so many people he might have been able to help. But he was where he was, and he met Eugene, and he lived.

It hadn't been an easy thing to come to terms with, but the alternative was going insane.]

Oh the world itself did not end, Jack. Civilization, perhaps. But the world? Will keep right on after every human, elf, and dwarf can no longer survive upon it. Nature is a fickle and determined bitch after all. And she has a fine pair of breasts to boot.

[Yes, he's seen the embodiment of nature. And it was bang'n.]

. . . I guess both of our points stand.

[He gives a fond, bewildered shake of his head, walking for several more placid moments and letting his mind wander. It's exactly the sort of moment when one has epiphanies, and Jack is true to form, though when his flits up into conscious thought he only hesitates, step faltering. Then he groaning, pressing his free hand against his face and smushing it around slowly.]

Oooooh . . . November Fourth, you ass-!

...what?

[He is all innocence, smiling at Jack without a single thought as to what or why he could be anything but innocent. It was a good day for him. A nice day in the fall when nice things fell into his lap. Why not make it his birthday?]

[Between his fingers, Jack shoots him the kind of dirty look that's grinning at the same time. Quite tellingly, too, he does not even try to pull his hand away.]

I just got it, and - Jesus, Zev, you can't just just . . . I mean, it's your birthday. It's supposed to be about you.

It is about me. That was the day when, while hunting for something that would bring me no joy, satisfaction, or closure I found two men stumbling about that brought me all three.

[He reaches up to tug that hand down, all but beaming up at Jack.]

I was lost and every inch the hunting Crow before I saw you two in the woods. When I dropped down to speak, I became myself again.

[It is, quite probably, the most perfectly romantic way Zevran can explain the choice. That he delivers the rationale, so guilelessly, so happily-

Jack don't know what to do with it. Pulled face-to-face, being presented with a selflessness that isn't deluded or damaged, an earnest happiness that leaves him absolutely no opening to tease or quip or do anything but smile more and more foolishly by the moment. There have to be words he can return with but he doesn't know them or how they fit together, and he finally laughs haplessly as he sags forward and tips his forehead against Zev's.]

Hah- when you put it that way, I . . . well. If we helped you get to even half of that, I'm glad we could. You deserve it.

There is much I deserve, Argento. Not all of it is kind. This? This I most certainly do not.

[He loops his arms around Jack and pulls him close, holding on tight all the same. This was his. This love, this life, this warmth and joy and satisfaction. This bright brilliant thing that should feel like the scorching flames of Andraste's pyre instead warms and soothes his cold bones when he forgets what it is to be an elf. When steel and blood and iron and salt wind through him so deep he is uncertain if he will ever be able to come back out again.

Every time, Jack smiles. Jack laughs or says something and the Crow is gone, leaving only Zevran.]

But I fully intend to keep it. You and Eugene can be pried from my cold dead fingers- and after that I'll come for you twice as mad. Never doubt it.

Oh, shush.

[The dismissal is soft and pleased, Jack turning his head to kiss Zev's cheek, hands clasped loosely at the small of his back and whole bearing pliant with willingness to be taken and held and adored. Zevran gives off such an energy that it's almost impossible, sometimes, not to want to just bask in it for awhile.]

The only thing I'm doubting is your judgement on anyone deserving us or not. We can be a complete pain in the butt, if you hadn't quite noticed.

Only if I am not sufficiently oiled and stretched.

[Dirty, filthy humor- he's more of the mind than he is the actions of it- but this would be well worth that hiccuped laugh of Jack's that makes his heart twist.]

[Jack's never a difficult one to get going, especially when he's in a mood like he is now, buzzy and alcohol-warm and content with being with someone precious to him. The obligatory groan he gives the joke tumbles into a laugh, and he twists and rocks idly with the music, drawing back enough to look at Zev properly and with an aggrieved sort of appreciation, huffing a breath out of his nose.]

God, why do I even put up with you.

Because I am so very pretty and can twist you into shapes you'd never imagined before.

[He counters easily, slipping over to pull Jack into a proper rolling dance. Something that is mostly hips and quirked lips and almost obscene in it's intent.]

And you love me.

[There's no living with Zevran for any length of time without gaining at least a vague sense for those motions, and even if he'd never have any hope of leading in a dance like that, Jack can follow along happily enough. He lists close in a curl and tug of heat, feeling the magnetic snag and pull of hip to hip, breastbone to breastbone, and murmurs so close to Zev's lips it's palpable rather than visible.]

There's the one.

And I-

[breath so close the words are more puffed into Jack's mouth than against his skin, lip to lip, heart to heart, soul to soul. It's low and roiling and taut and he wants to feel something, anything, so he takes one of Jack's hands and rests it against the stud on his ear.]

Love you. With every breath.

[Jack thinks he might kiss him then and there, dancing on the sand and being so relentlessly romanced, except for the way his world zooms back into the sharpest focus currently possible when Zev lays his fingers over that still-tender, still-healing little wound. It's the one place even a careless flick is practically debilitating, and he lifts his touch the moment Zev lets him, brow lightly creased in concern and lips curled in adoration as he traces northward to less dangerous territory.]

Later. [He hushes, or maybe promises, nuzzling Zev's jaw as he traces a fingertip along the first ridge of the shell. ]

[He takes the promise for what it might be and tilts his head into Jack's hand. It isn't the same as it was before he died, the sparking, crackling sensation. It's bright and intense and almost painful and that is as close as he can get to how it ought to feel to him. He knows this sensation isn't the proper one and if he whines a little petulantly, well. He just wants something that he can't quite put into words.]

Almost there, love.

[There's something heartbreaking about the sound and the sightless searching of Zev's movements, and Jack shushes him as he stops teasing his ear and pulls him close, kissing his temple firmly.]

We're almost there, all right?

A month and some more.

[He counted the days constantly. He wants his lust, his desire back. Wants to enjoy Jack and Eugene in every debauched way that he can imagine. Wants to avoid awkward conversation with lips and teeth and tongue at inopportune but delicious moments.

Wants to be able to kiss Jack and feel warm throughout.]

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and the bass keeps runnin runnin

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