[ OPEN ]

[signatures]

When; Midnight, the 29th into the 30th.
Rating; R...? I'm so bad at rating things. Drug use, obviously. Also inevitable nudity, I think, with this group.
Characters; Eames, Dulcie, Angela, and any other of the counsellors that want to join them! Posting order is up in the air. WHATEVS. GIVE NO FUCKS. Whomever. Go for it. Threadjack. Make with it.
Summary; Poetry reading. Book club. Every other metaphor under the sun for toking up behind the canoe shelter.
Log;

[ Eames feels more than a little ridiculous, waiting behind the canoe shelter as the watch on his right wrist tells him it's getting closer to midnight. Next time, he really ought to pick the location for himself, rather than out on the beach - though, granted, he supposes the sand would be well enough of a guard against Saya, who'd rather not sink with her heels in any sort of soft ground. He has to wonder if this is anything near normal, for camps, but then decides he doesn't particularly care. Between this and the occasional bout of cards with Rupert, Eames is having an easy enough time settling on with his community service. He either has the best parole officer and judge combination or potentially worst - but it benefits him, so he can't complain that perhaps in the grand scope of things he got off a little easy.

But money laundering isn't exactly all that serious, is it?

Right.

Anyway.

He shuffles on his feet, sandals hanging from two fingers of his hand tucked beneath the thong of them. Toes digging into the soft sand, still retaining the heat of the day, he waits for the others to arrive. More importantly, Dulcie - but anyone else was a welcome brand of company, anyway, so long as they were the proper sorts of counsellors. Or, at least, knew how to keep their mouths shut. ]

Comments

[dulcisnuntius.livejournal.com]

Hiya!

[Dulcie shows up only a few minutes late. She's thrown a tattered pashmina over her dress, and a large beaded bag hangs over one shoulder. She is also barefoot, but no shoes appear to be anywhere in sight.]

Did you bring chocolate?

[thenormalsquint]

I did.

[That's Angela's voice ringing as she finishes her hike towards the back of the shed, backpack slung over one shoulder.]

And chips and cookies and candy and a sandwich, but that sandwich's for me. You guys can have the other stuff.

[dulcisnuntius.livejournal.com]

Oooh, you're wonderful! Are there gummi bears?

[Dulcie drops her bag in the sand and plonks down beside it.]

[thenormalsquint]

Gummi bears, gummi worms, even gummi frogs.

[She kicks her own sneakers off and plops down next to Dulcie, stretching out her legs.]

You'd think these kids would learn how to hide their stash better after the first three bunk searches.

[dulcisnuntius.livejournal.com]

There's a reason that expression about candy and babies exists.

[She digs around in her bag and starts pulling out the tools of tye trade. A large book as a rolling surface, a pulverizer, her rolling papers...]

So this is a new crop so after the first round everyone needs to take a half hour break and see how they feel before we do any more.

[just because she's a drug dealer doesn't mean she isn't responsible]

[signatures]

So we're test subjects, now?

[signatures]

Or those sour skittles, from last time?

[thenormalsquint]

Do I look like a store to you, Eames?

[She laughs as she digs into her bag to produce said Skittles, tossing the pack at him.]

[signatures]

I feel like it would be terribly offensive if I said yes.

[ He catches it with a mild quirk of his lips. ]

But what if it was an exceptionally well-kept, classy store?

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[He's looking for Angela, hoping for another of those marathon make-out sessions they've been having behind various buildings. Maybe more if he's lucky, really, really lucky.

...but the slightly dorky Arts and Crafts geek has no idea what he's stumbling into here, does he?]

[thenormalsquint]

[Really, their lips and tongues should be sore, if not tired, with as many times as they've distracted the kids with toilet paper rolls, glitter, and glue just so they can sneak off for a couple of minutes' privacy. But Angela can never get enough and Cinna probably knows this by now.

She's made her backpack into a pillow as she reclines on the sand to take another puff, only stopping to raise herself on her elbows as she squints across the darkness.]

Cinna?

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

Um. Hi, there, Angela.

[He gives her a short wave and approaches a little awkwardly. He's heard other voices out here and he's not sure who's around. As he moves closer he sniffs suspiciously and his eyes widen.]

Are- are you doing... pot?

[thenormalsquint]

[There are two things Angela can do--she can lie and say no or she can say yes and let the card fall where they may, all the while remaining wide-eyed.

She goes for the latter.]

I guess I'm busted, huh.

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

Ange, you can get... fired or arrested.

[He moves in closer, coming to sit next to her and looking around like he expects the police to show up at any minute.]

[worksmart.livejournal.com]

[Well someone's late for the poetry reading. On the upside, he has brought beer (which to be honest is for his own benefit-- he'll take a drag of someone's joint but he's not into the whole scene.

Ignoring the temptation to pretend he's come to bust them, he nontheless walks up quietly behind the nearest silhouetted figure before spider-creeping a hand up their back to surprise them.]

lol o god im sorry

[signatures]

[ Eames' hand snaps back to grab at Chase's wrist, but he recognizes him soon enough to avoid doing anything serious, brow raising amicably instead. ]

Isn't it part of training to avoid surprising people in the dark? Or is it just Rupert.

<3

[worksmart.livejournal.com]

[He would have aimed for one of the women, probably a lot more likely to giggle and swat at him in a way he could pretend not to enjoy, but the angle had been all wrong. The quick hand on his wrist is surprising, though. Chase is quick enough, himself, to be able to appreciate when someone else is.]

I went to med school. We were trained not to sneak up on people with needles. Or nervous incontinence.

[And he blinks down at the improvised cuff around his arm.]

Your mum never told you to ask before holding someone's hand?

<3!

[signatures]

[ So wrong. Eames doesn't giggle or swat, no matter how much he might have smoked by the time Chase decided to come join them. He glances down at where they're joined, lips curling toothlessly in a harmless smile. ]

Actually, she taught me the romantic element in being unpredictable.

[ Still, he lets go of Chase's arm, patting the sand next to him instead. ]

Kind of you to join us. How was your earlier swim?

[ OH YES. EAMES KNOWS. ]

[worksmart.livejournal.com]

[Curling a lopsided grin at the notion of romance, Chase drops the crate of beer into the sand and follows it not long after, crouching on one knee. His hair is still damp from said swim, and his eyes flick across to Dulcie before he offers a shrug.]

The water was fine. Company wasn't bad either. Always nice to swim somewhere you're not sharing with fifty weak-bladdered kids.

[thenormalsquint]

[And from the other side somewhere:]

KINK-KAY.

[worksmart.livejournal.com]

[He grins, and for a moment it would almost be worth catching Eames' hand again, but he's not drunk enough - they're not drunk enough for him to know how it would be taken.]

Thought you'd have wilder ideas than that.

[dulcisnuntius.livejournal.com]

Hi! You made it!

[Dulcie is lounging in the sand, the toke hanging off her fingers. She doesn't look like she's interested in moving any time soon.]

[worksmart.livejournal.com]

No crises this evening, thank God.

[He kneels up and leans over, cold bottle offered in one hand.]

Want to swap?

[dulcisnuntius.livejournal.com]

[She grins and takes the bottle off him, handing over the the joint at the same time. She takes a long swig. A very long swig. Even in cursed human form, she has a frighteningly high tolerance.]

What took you so long, then?

[worksmart.livejournal.com]

[It's not vodka. A high tolerance for American beer isn't enough to write home about. He takes a drag from the joint before he answers, managing not to cough but trying to clear the scratch of the smoke at the back of his throat.]

That would be telling.