taxonomites | [ location: bronte beach ] let that igloo cooler mark your piece of paradise.

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[ location: bronte beach ] let that igloo cooler mark your piece of paradise.

Word has it, Taxon, that there's going to be a party. These rumors are not untrue, for one

slaying has arranged something of a get together for the Fourth of July. Unfortunately, the Extras have caught wind of this soirée and are already in the presence of crashing it, rocking those holey jeans and chilling with some Lynyrd Skynyrd and good ol' Hank Williams. This is their kind of party.

Don't let them have all the fun. The sun is getting low, so get on out here and get your party on before fireworks start lighting up the faux night sky.

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Although the false sunlight wouldn't have hurt her, habit - and a sense of loyalty to the moonlight that had soothed her for so many decades - confined Drusilla to the shadows. It was growing dark when she reached the beach. The fireworks were as bright as stars, but they didn't have the same power. She couldn't read anything in them. She could only remember the times she'd watched fireworks in the past and hope that, one day, she'd get to watch them again. With the people that mattered.

The dragons were singing and the flames reminded her of a burning city. She smiled to herself - a secret smile, filled with mystery and mischief - before wandering off up the beach.

The hug took him slightly by surprise; physical displays of any kind were still somewhat foreign to him. The last girl to hug him with any kind of regularity had turned out to be someone entirely different than he'd thought. Still, there was nothing bad to be said for this particular hug, and though it took him a moment to catch on, he smiled brightly as he returned the embrace.

"Hi there. Having a good time?"

His face fades back to human as he retracts his fangs from a vampire's version of a love nip, lifting his head from her neck to look at her face as he licks what escaped of her blood before the wound closed off his lips. "Just a little," he agrees. "You know what doesn't?"

Stefan steps out of her embrace, a few paces back in the water and bends down, using cupped hands to shower her with water. "Splash war!" And then he's running towards the other side of the surf.

Edited 2011-07-14 21:14 (UTC)

Katherine merely raises a brow and tilts her head in question, momentarily distracted by the ridiculously attractive sight of a trace of her own blood on his lips.

"No!" she protests laughingly as Stefan's intent becomes clear, squealing a little as the water hits her. Quickly wiping a hand down her face, she tears after Stefan, laughing as she catches up to him and returns the favor, splashing him furiously.

"Too slow," she teases with a wide grin, brushing aside a few sodden curls that have come loose as she backs down deeper into the water. "Are you a better swimmer?"

Willow just rolls her eyes in return. "Look. It's a lot more loose where we're from. I think you're stuck back in a different time. This is normal for us and it doesn't mean we're shameless-"

Okay, people like Faith are shameless, but that's another story entirely.

"It's just... how our worlds work, okay? I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. Maybe getting in the water will help."

Somehow she looks completely unperturbed by this and only marginally more disheveled than pre-trip. Granted, she also didn't end up in the sand, and is peering down at Willow with a hand stretched out.

"You fell."

Dismissing apologies and stating the obvious: apparently River's hobbies.

"You know well I how strong of a swimmer I am, Miss Katherine," Stefan reminds her in a hushed voice, one that's both almost conspiratorial and a touch shy. Like he used to be, that innocent seventeen-year-old who lived under his father's stern hand and protective wing whose exposure to the war barely went beyond Damon's stories and what he read in the paper.

River is standing in water halfway up her calves, letting the waves roll in. The bottom of her skirt is wet, but she doesn't seem to care. Wiggling her toes in the floaty top layers of sand and nudging her heels past the smooth shells is far more interesting.

...and then there's a tiny boy running into the water and then running away again.

"You're doing it wrong," she calls out at him.

Although B'Elanna had been to plenty of beach parties, most of them had been on the holodeck and involved virtual representations of beaches rather than physical locations. She arrived as the sun dipped below the horizon, giving the assembled Extras a dark look before making her way over to the crowd of prisoners. Their bracelets - and their mutual disdain for the artificial guests - made them easy to identify and, fortunately, she'd exchanged her Starfleet uniform for a loose Hawaiian shirt and a pair of shorts that didn't look too out of place.

In typical Sookie fashion, a call to barbecue means a call to cook; she's lugged about forty thousand ice chests here with her, and sets out a spread that could feed almost all of Taxon. (Hey, somebody had to make an acre of potato salad and fried chicken.) Once that's set up she'll take a seat nearby, pulling off her coverup and reclining on a convenient lounge chair to work on her tan.

Bothering is encouraged.

[ ooc | THIS IS GOOD FOR ANY POINT IN THE NIGHT don't feel like you have to stick to sunbathing sook. ♥ ]

[ he laughs and waves the frisbee. ] Oh good, I was...advised to bring it, we don't really have these things in my world. [ frisbees? beach parties? beaches? any would qualify, really. ]

Are you settling in? Found a place to stay yet?

And it was in that moment that Glitch decided that the beach was his favorite place ever. Well, that he could remember, which was good enough.

"Hi I brought stuff," he called as she approached. "How's the water?"

When Eowyn glances around, she may notice at least one person not any form of naked-- Long is seated in a beach chair, reading, but is as fully dressed as when she saw him the first time.

He glances up though and offers her a slight smile and nod across the distance between them, then returns to his book.

Glitch nodded, a bit sadly. "It does make stuff hard to remember. Harder, in my case." He looked back inland, toward the jumble of spires and stuff that made up Taxon. "Sometimes it feels more like home than home does. I I know more people here than I do back in the O.Z."

DG and Cain, of course, but also all his friends whom he'd never have met if he hadn't been brought here.

Well, it's better than nothing. Willow accepts the hand up with a slight frown, more confused than angry or upset.

"Yeah. We kinda ran into each other. A-are you okay? I didn't hurt you...?"

Stating things that could be misconstrued is apparently one of Willow's.

As much as Angel enjoys the faux sun of Taxon, vampire or human, night is admittedly comfortable in ways he can't properly put into words should anyone ever ask him to. It helps that the lack of light feels soothing on too pale skin that shouldn't have been out in such direct sunlight, and he's going to hate his life in the morning while getting well-acquainted with the wonder that is aloe very. For now, however, he's content to sit back and enjoy the fireworks--

Or yelp rather unmanly like as he leans back against his burn, swearing in what isn't English at all. Motherfucker that hurt.

Edited 2011-07-16 18:37 (UTC)

"Language, Angel. I can't tell what you're sayin', but I can tell it's nothin' you can say in church." Sookie's scolding is humorous, though, and the hand she lays on his shoulder is barely more than a brush, careful of his obvious sunburn. "Honey, didn't anybody give you sunscreen? You're bright red. Honestly, men. Y'all're just--"

She falls silent midsentence as Angel's thoughts filter in; she's so used to not shielding around him that touch is enough to reach in without meaning to, and for a moment she just loses herself in the rise and fall of his thoughts. Maryann's thoughts were just as foreign, but they were ugly, frightening. Angel's are lilting and beautiful, like listening to music even if Sookie can't understand the words. Then, flushing guiltily she steps back, wishing she had pockets to put her hands in.

"I'm sorry, I just don't have to block you out normally-- and touchin' people helps, and I swear it won't happen again."

Shouldn't say in church, maybe, but that doesn't mean one can't or that Angel didn't. There's a long list of things he did to tick his father off and no matter the amount of faith he may or may not have had when he was alive, swearing in church was pretty tame compared to the other stunts he pulled before he was stupid enough to ask a pretty stranger outside a bar to show him the world.

He winces as he leans forward, longing for the rapid healing of the vampire he should be. Her touch is cool and it's completely foreign to him to feel cold radiating off another being, his own body temperature -- or lack thereof -- when he was undead canceling out any of that.

"I never really had to do that," he answers. And he hadn't. The early-mid eighteenth century predated sunscreen. "There wasn't an--" Whatever he's about to say is cut short in favor of staring at her in confusion. So used to being unreadable, Angel forgets that Sookie's a telepath and it takes him a moment to realize that's what she means: she could hear his thoughts.

"...oh. No. I mean, that's okay. Don't imagine there's anything too pretty in my head, but I've got nothing to hide." Lies. Angel hid a lot of things, but it sounded better to say so and sunburn aside, he was in a good mood and didn't feel like playing up to his gloomier self.

Oh, she knows, alright. Stefan's words and tone call up the memories in perfect clarity. Katherine dips her chin and smiles impishly, shoulders jumping up and down a little as if in silent laughter. It's a mixture of demureness and mischief that is pure Katherine Pierce à la 1864.

"Now that you mention it, I seem to recall something about that. I must say, I prefer ponds to such vast waters as this. Don't you?" Her lips curl into a tiny smirk. "Splashing Stefan."

"Liz," she repeats, committing the name to memory. "Yes, I do remember that. You mentioned a keen interest in molecular biology, correct?"

Brennan is lousy with names, but she tends to recall faces. Or rather, the underlying bone architecture. However, more than that, she remembers scientific interests and/or achievements.

"Cold," she said, flicking a few drops of water in his direction to illustrate her answer. She wriggled her bare toes in the sand, savouring the strange sensation, before hurrying over to join him. "What sort of stuff?"

Dawn is a deeply huggy person; the Sunnydale concept of personal boundaries isn't exactly stringent. Add in her attachment issues and Connor's standoffishness doesn't stand a chance.

"I am! I mean, beach party. We didn't have a beach for the longest time, how could I not?" Oh wow, her sandals are totally fascinating. "And the company isn't bad either."

Sookie would whack him a good one, you don't say those words inside a church. (Not that her attempts at correction ever once stopped Jason or Tara, but she lives in hope.)

"Well, I know that. But somebody oughta be watching out for you, just until this whole thing is over. I mean, sunscreen's just the tip of the iceberg, sweetie. Bein' a human's tough, and you're out of practice." What could sound condescending is just worried, because Sookie has attached herself to Angel and he can't escape being mommed to death. A particular skepticism about mens' ability to take care of themselves without a women prodding them is something Sookie was weaned on.

"No, it's beautiful!" Careful to keep her shields strong, Sookie lays a gentle hand on his forearm. "Your thoughts are in Irish, like that nickname you call me sometimes? It's pretty, it really is. Like a song, almost."

Eowyn tilted her head. This person used strange words, so it took a moment for Eowyn to understand what she was saying.

She couldn't say that this young woman was lying. Everyone else seemed to be lacking clothing. Still, Eowyn wasn't going to take any part in it. "I think I will keep myself dry, thank you."

Eowyn shifted again. If she had felt out of place before, it had been nothing like this moment. She glanced at the fireworks nearby. "Are those fireworks? For what occasion are they to be used?"

Eowyn returns his smile before deciding to walk over to Long. Not only is he the only one dressed decently around here, but he's also familiar. "Good day Master Long. What brings you here?"

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[ location: bronte beach ] let that igloo cooler mark your piece of paradise.

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we'll still have the summer after all;

we'll still have the summer after all;

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we'll still have the summer after all;

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ain't you glad we ain't all california girls ain't you glad there's still a few of us left;

the ocean breathes salty;

[location: the beach]

[location]

the ocean breathes salty;

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but, uh oh, those summer nights;

but, uh oh, those summer nights;

but, uh oh, those summer nights;

we'll still have the summer after all;

watching the clouds roll by;

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but, uh oh, those summer nights;

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[location]