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]

( A pause, but he nods. )

They would only talk to me if they wanted something from me, or if I was doing something wrong.

( Even so, he couldn't help but love them, and want their approval. )

I'm the child of an affair, as well. So they only felt I was partly part of the family. It wasn't like how yours were, not in that memory.

Cw mild racism mention to be safe

[tylorific]

That's not how parents are supposed to be.

[ One of those those hills that Tylor is willing to die on, with a slight frown. Tylor blinks at him though.

His parents, the topic that is easiest to anchor him in seriousness. ]

No, definitely not like them. But, well, I wasn't exactly planned either, you know? My mom, her family didn't like my dad or me. We looked different and they were never married. She loved me, but it wasn't very fair.

cw mild racism mention jic as well

[tablescraps]

( He pauses, it taking a moment for the meaning to sink in... Ah. He felt so dramatically removed from society that, for a moment, he'd forgotten these were all things that existed every day. )

She couldn't choose between her family or your dad?

( He glances up at Tylor, faintly studying his face. )

[tylorific]

[ Tylor shakes his head at that. ]

They said they never wanted to get married, but who really knows?

My mom, though, she gave up a lot to choose me.

[ Tylor's gaze drifts downwards. ]

They were both so smart. Had jobs they loved, dreams, things they wanted to do with their lives.

I used to wonder, sometimes, if I just made all of that harder, even if they loved me.

[ A sigh, smile directed at Morgan a shade wistful. ]

I guess none of that really matters now.

[tablescraps]

( He doesn't know if this is a question he has an answer to. They probably did give things up to have Tylor. Conversely, )

... if they didn't give anything up, they'd probably be like my parents. ( He says this idly, by way of observation, as his gaze falls back to the fire. ) Everything has a cost. But they didn't feel like they regret paying it.

[tylorific]

Oh. Well, I can't argue with that.

[ A pause. ]

I wouldn't regret giving up things for the people I love either.

So I guess I got that from them too.

[tablescraps]

( He makes a vague sound of agreement. )

... You have their love, I think. It feels the same.

( The love he vaguely recalls feeling from them, in the memory, and the way it feels, being loved by Tylor. )

[tylorific]

Really?

[ Ah.

That dusts a rare flush over his cheeks when he blinks, even with the happy little laugh as he rises to tend to the charred fish. He does it carefully, with a press, the slide of his palm, at Morgan's back to signal his regret at breaking contact. ]

What does that feel like for you?

[ He glances to ask this by the fire only making the slight flush more obvious. Tylor takes a nibble, hums, and proceeds to dump popping candy down its throat along with seasoning to blend the sugar with a complimentary spiciness that (hopefully) won't burn Morgan's little mouth.

Pretend he gutted the fish with chopsticks somewhere in this thread if he didn't already, because dreamwidth isn't cooperating.

But whether he's answered by then or not, Tylor returns to Morgan like he'd never left. Taking his weight, free arm looping his waist, and holding the fish away so it can cool down a bit first. ]