(open)

[hischair]

When: 19th
Rating: TBC
Characters: You!
Summary: A shindig at the beach for the best navigator in Starfleet.
Log: 

[ OOC: Feel free to assume your character has received an invite to the party via their inbox or word of mouth for Chekov's birthday! Everyone is welcome except you, Khan and presents are mandatory for the Enterprise's young navigator. Please tag under either section to keep the party somewhat ordered, and have fun! ]

Comments

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei's most commonly manifested emotion during any party is boredom; he stuffs his face, stifles yawns, and allows his eyes to wander from the people on the beach to the endless sky above. On more than one occasion he's looked straight at Yin, seemingly blindly ignorant of who she is, seeing her only as a pretty shape in the distance, a nondescript dress amongst bare skin and swim trunks and summer-frocks that are like swarms of butterflies. ]

[ But that isn't true. Hei has a blueprint of most people stamped at the back of his retinas. He could recognize Yin at a half-glance -- a single flash of her hair or her profile, the style of her walk, would be enough to identify her. He doesn't try to get her attention. But after his plate is empty, he does pass by her spot. Heaping seconds on the plate, he settles at an angle from her. Not close enough to be obvious, just enough for his voice to reach her. ]

You'll burn to a crisp, sitting in the sun.

[ Hi, Yin, hi. ]

[moonlitrequiem]

[At his words, without even a glance at him now that he's closer, Yin moves into the shade of a nearby tree. There is no single word in return, but that's normal. Perhaps even her way of saying hi. He was acknowledged and listened to, either way.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei watches from the corner of his eye, as Yin drifts into the dappled shade under a tree. Picks at the food on his plate, before refocusing on the horizon, an untrustworthy boundary between a vast blue sky and an aquamarine ocean. The sound of peoples' voices threatens to become indistinguishable from the cries of seabirds, and all of it is swallowed up by the amorphously soothing slosh of the waves. For a while, he amuses himself with differentiating separate voices among the desultory murmur, catching hold of strings of words and following their roots into interwoven conversations. But mostly he concentrates on emptying his plate. ]

[ He didn't want to come to the party, but now that he's here he's content -- or as content as Hei gets -- because it's so much easier to just be. The convoluted mazes through which his thoughts have been running lately are left behind in the City. Here, he can melt into the background and watch the dramas play out among the guests, without being reminded of his own. ]

[ When he's bored with people-watching, and ready to retreat somewhere else, he'll pass by Yin's spot. Drop a hat onto her head (purchased earlier from one of the vendors next to food stands), quiet and unobstrusive, before shuffling up the sandy slopes alone. ]

[moonlitrequiem]

[There's no thank you from Yin. She simply puts one hand to the hat in confusion, and she will keep the hat. Even after the party, it will remain in her wardrobe.]