Open | The Epicurians Present: The 1st of September Beach Bash!

[bleatingedge]

Who ► Leo & Anyone that wishes to join!
What ► BEACH PARTY!!
When ► September 1st
Where ► Δ Haggard Traveler's Reprieve
Content Warnings ► People will be drunk. Will add to if needed

[The time has come... for fun! Δ Haggard Traveler's Reprieve has been decorated with all the niceties that a beach party requires - docks for fishing, large umbrellas to hide from the sun, several tables with sets of chairs for sitting and conversing, and the most obvious addition: a massive roaring bonfire with a big cooking mesh over the top of it for barbecue cookin'!

Leo's wearing a fishing hat and aviators alongside his trademark loincloth-and-nothing-else getup for maximum dissonance. From his position on the other side of the bonfire, he waves a hand at those arriving.]

Welcome to the Beach Bash! Snacks and drinks are on the tables, bottles of sunscreen and crafting tables are under the umbrellas, and complementary fishing gear are at the docks for your convenience. Have fun, friends~

[Emperor Grunty is also here, should you wish to annoy him! He's currently laying in the sand with a reflector. What? Grunties need their sun too!]

Comments

[tablescraps]

( That's even trickier. Mm... )

... What does your brother do?

[gluttoning]

[Oh. Booker?

...]

There isn't anything he can do in the moment. His attacks happen really fast by the time he notices things, but...

He's learned some things that he knows make his condition worse, so he knows to be careful or to try to be sitting down if he's in certain situations, or he'll ask me or a friend to stay close to him. Sometimes we can see he's getting out of it right before he falls over, but that's usually just luck.

[tablescraps]

( Mithrun forgetting Barrett has like 38 of those things (brothers)

He does seem to think it over, though. )

... Then it's just a matter of determining whether I'm entering a dangerous situation or not, and then calling you to go with me.

( He looks at Barrett. Does that work :thinking: )

[gluttoning]

[Yeah they multiply if you stop looking at them really

Something in his eyes pains a bit as he lets himself smile, before shaking his head slightly.]

I wish I could. If things were different... I'd be here whenever anyone needed me.

But... I know I can't.

Maybe making a list of people you trust here could help. Not just me.

[tablescraps]

I could do that.

( He'd suggested Barrett since Barrett seemed personally concerned about it, but if anyone will do, then, well, anyone will do, Mithrun supposes. He's missing the drive to do this for himself, but... since it's Barrett suggesting this, he'll consider it. )

I'll think over a list next week. Maybe Sunday. ( Mithrun with higher priorities on his to-do list. ) It shouldn't be too difficult to come up with.

[gluttoning]

So long as it's people you think would help you in a situation where you feel you might not be able to help yourself.

[A beat. His head lulls a bit against his wrist with a tilt of warmed expression, and that free hand reaches out again. From sand to skin, T
The lightest touch only, knuckles just boastong briefly against the curve of his shoulder. The glimmers of affection.]

I'll do what I can to help you. Whenever I can.

[tablescraps]

( Ah. Again. He wonders if he'll pull it away, in a moment. )

... When you can.

( Whenever you can sounds nice - but his gentle reiteration is a needling, in some sense, that Barrett's time holds priority, too. He doesn't want or need Barrett to overextend himself to be there for him, if it ever comes to that.

And this time, before his knuckles might slip away again... Mithrun lifts his other hand, and lays his palm against Barrett's palm, curling his fingers around his hand. )

... I'll be fine.

( Well, a lot of things can go wrong, and he's still pretty careless. But... he'll be fine. And even if some minor injury happens to him, he'll recover in the end - he can't, after all, die yet. )

[gluttoning]

[Oh.

The touch halts him, a sheepish coloring of his face as Morgan's fingers curl. He lets his fingers open, spreading out their touch under Morgan's press in a cupping, circular motion against his shoulder.]

...Yeah. I... trust you. I want to.

[tablescraps]

( rip to barrett's trust................... )

... You're all red.

( Teasing? Maybe. Hard to tell with Mithrun. The touch doesn't feel bad, though. )

[gluttoning]

Am I? [Again? Damnit. He brings his free hand up his chin to his face, burying his features in his fingers with a slightly embarrassed look when he feels how warm he's turned.]

...You surprised me.

[tablescraps]

( ...

He lifts his hand from Barrett's to gently lay a finger along the curve of Barrett's cheek and pressing up along the hand burying his features, as if asking permission to see his face again - or maybe touch it - or, even, both. )

... I like it.

[gluttoning]

[The touch earns another blink of surprise, muted but not fought. His fingers curl, give way, letting Morgan look at the pink that dusts his face, even if his eyes can't meet for a second. When they do, it's a sheepish glance, but open, the touch on Mithrun's shoulder sliding carefully down his forearm.]

...Mn. You liked it before. I don't understand, but...

[It's distracting. Weren't they talking about NPCs? Armor? His mind is fuzzy.]

[tablescraps]

( His fingers brush along the gentle flush - right at the cheekbone, just below the eye, like touching something fragile, something that might leave soon. )

... Maybe because your face is often one way. I like it that way.

( His fingers brush in a curious diagonal, across the cheek, sailing slowly, lazy down; coming to land, gently, at the corner of his lips.

Ah, this feels a little familiar. )

... But I like it when it changes, too.

[gluttoning]

[He remains very, very still under Morgan's touch, a whisper of warm breath sneaking out as the pads of his fingers cross his lips.]

...My brothers say I don't really react strongly to most things. I don't know how true that is.

But I guess... I can't promise it'll ever change very much.

[tablescraps]

... I don't mind, even if it doesn't. Mine doesn't change much, either.

( It feels a little like having his fingers against the lips of a wild animal... Though Barrett's hardly as dangerous - at least, he hasn't been with Mithrun.

His fingers linger there, but seem keen to drift down. He's just exploring - curious about all of him. )

... You do, though. React strongly.

( The picnic, and onward - Barrett isn't boisterous, but he is a steady force. )

[gluttoning]

Mn. For some things... I can't help it. And it makes my face hurt in a good way.

[His lips thin for a second as he swallows. Unsure of what to do. Keeping still as though Morgan is a butterfly that will startle if he isn't careful.]

Yours changes sometimes. When you smile. When you're sulking.

Or when you're listening really hard. You're kind of like a cat watching a bird sometimes. [His lips quirk upwards under Morgan's touch, eyes crinkling slightly.] It's nice to see.

[tablescraps]

( ! A slightly surprised look. He hadn't thought he emoted much at all. And he hadn't thought it warranted a smile of Barrett's own. )

... I didn't know I sulked.

( A cat...

With purpose, he presses a thumb lightly where Barrett's lips quirk up, and then his fingers drift up to where his eyes crinkle. )

... These. I like these too. When you smile.

[gluttoning]

[His smile twinges upwards a little stronger at the moving touch. It feels strange, to be observed like this. Like a small child with their hands on everything, unsure of how to process the world otherwise, tugging on hair and earrings and lips in pure curiosity and instinct.]

It's nice to be able to smile.

You sulk when you get angry. When you tell me something I'm doing is frustrating you. Or when you get worried and intense, like at the onsen. Your frown gets deep and your eyes feel thin. [His hand lifts from Morgan's forearm, placing a gentle press of his fingers right between Morgan's brows.] You get all tense right here.

[tablescraps]

( Oh. Right on cue, with Barrett's fingers right there, he frowns, thoughtful, brows furrowing just below and on either side of Barrett's fingers.

Ah, then he looks surprised - because he can feel more consciously how his brows furrowed with the fingers right there. )

... You're right.

( He lets his hand slowly sink from Barrett's face, falling onto his forearm - their hands about switched places from where they were a moment ago, like a mirror. )

... I don't notice things about people often. But you have a good eye.

( That's Mithrun's blindspot - a very big blindspot - where Barrett seems to have much better clarity. )

[gluttoning]

...Do I?

[A slight tilt of his head. He's never really thought about it before.]

Mn. I don't know if that's it. I don't feel like I pay close attention to anybody. I just like to remember things about the people I like.

[His fingers move to Mithrun's hairline, brushing some of the salt-encrusted hairs away from his skin.]

It makes me happy.

[tablescraps]

( Oh.

...

...

He shifts a little closer...? Not by much. Could be easy to miss as a normal repositioning, for comfort. Just - a little bit more. )

... Are you happy right now?

[gluttoning]

Yeah.

[The smile comes right back. Genuine, simple, fond. If he notices the change in distance, he says and does nothing to indicate it.]

I get to spend a little time with you before my game tomorrow. It's nice.

[tablescraps]

( He settles in where he is. He wasn't looking for anything in his shift. It was just... an echo of something Barrett said at the hot springs, about wanting to be closer - they just never followed up on that, then. He lets his hand take to the sand again, supporting some of his weight.

This doesn't feel bad. )

... Do you get nervous before games?

[gluttoning]

Mn... yeah.

[He leans a little bit into him, an unconscious acknowledgement of the shift in space. It feels nice to be together.]

This is our first game of the season. My first college game at all. Everybody's nervous.

Even if I'm second string, I still gotta be ready. But... I want to make the people who watch me feel proud. I want them to see how hard I'm working.

[His expression softens with a quiet nod to himself.]

All I can do tomorrow is play my best, listen to my coach and help my teammates. I believe in them.

[tablescraps]

( ah,

The sudden weight surprises him, and he pauses a little like a wide-eyed cat. His expression, though, is more subtle; the warmth sinks into a soft curve in the echo of his smile. )

... I can see it.

( How hard you're working, he means. Maybe not in the way Barrett means, but - he means it.

It feels natural, as they talk, how his weight shifts slight to meet Barrett's lean in turn, without him really thinking about it. )

Do something nice when you win tomorrow. ( when! you win. ) You're training and studying when you're offline, right?

( Busy bee Barrett... )