the beach episode (dated before the east mission)

[fallingsand]

There's a small slice of sandy beach between mountains and wasteland, where the South meets Central, only an inlet of ocean between them, and that is where Bruno has decided to set up camp.

Literally.

He only had a simple tent and supplies for two initially. Tatara had asked if he could join him on his little trip out and how could he say no? Unfortunately for him, Tatara may have decided to invite everyone else, too, so, welcome, everyone, to the beach episode and a chance to relax after a potentially rough week in the City of Rain.

The sand is warm and fine, the water isn't too chilly, and scrubby little palm trees and plant life dot the dunes. Sea birds are the most active wildlife out here, not counting whatever fish can be found dwelling in the depths of the inlet between South and Central or further out into the ocean. It's comfortable enough... unless you hate sand, that is! You don't hate sand, right?

Since Tatara's arrival, more than Bruno's humble setup can be found.

- There's food fit for a picnic and enough bottles of wine for the evening.

- In the evening, a (non-deadly) bonfire will be built and there'll be pillows to sit on for those who don't want to sit directly on the sand.

- A few colorful rough wool blankets laid out under umbrellas meant to provide shade.

- There's still only one sad-looking tent... However! Bruno's gone ahead and enchanted it so that, when one pushes the cloth flap aside and enters, they'll find a much more comfortable setup inside.

And, of course, anything the other wizards have decided to bring! Bruno wasn't expecting a party but now that it's here, he sure can't tell them not to have fun however they want.

Comments

[leewards]

Ice. [A tall order, he knows. He gives a defeated laugh as he tugs his hood further down.]

I was born in a plateau that never saw warmer seasons. How else would I handle the heat, but to go to the extreme opposite?

[divineth]

[A tall order for someone outside the west, perhaps.]

I see. Then 'tis no wonder why thou art suffering so.

[From one extreme clime to another. It's like if a young Ishgardian experienced Costa del Sol for the first time.

He offers a hand to help Ithaqua up.]

Come. Let us locate shelter for thee, and I shall conjure thine ice.

[leewards]

[Ithaqua remains looking at Urianger and the outstretched hand for a few more seconds... before deciding that yes, he might as well accept help, even if it rankles at his pride. He looks like an ugly wet kitten, a horridly inbred creature with a smashed-in face, and he hates it, but there's nothing he can do about that.

He accepts help with a calloused, unclawed hand, unnaturally long fingers closing around Urianger's. Of course, he still does his part in standing on his own two feet, but he clicks his tongue when he notes how his limbs are just... encrusted with sand now.]

[divineth]

[Ithaqua please, it's for your own good--!! Ah, there we go. Progress. Urianger takes that hand before gently pulling Ithaqua up onto his feet and leading him under one of the umbrellas for some much-needed shade.]

Prithee, wait but one moment while I procure some water.

[After another quick trip down to the shore, Urianger returns with a few pails of saltwater. He sets them on either side of Ithaqua before drawing out his focus: a bright white crystal about the size of his palm.]

Now, then...

[The crystal floats between the pails, faintly glowing in the shade created by the umbrella. But with an uttering of his incantation, that glow strengthens as the water quickly begins to evaporate and freeze into a frigid mist.

The shelter under the umbrella is now a little arctic biome, all for the ailing abominable snowman.]

[leewards]

[The moment Urianger brings out his focus, he has Ithaqua's full attention, the snowman perking up like a lazy cat that's heard the clinking of dinnerware bearing food. His black eyes are big as he focuses on the elf's hands and movements, and he settles much the way a cat would-- in a loaf. Not entirely effective, given the length of his limbs.

But the moment the temperature drops and the water in the little buckets disappear and freeze, Ithaqua finds that he can breathe better, and he reaches out to tap one of the frozen droplets with a finger.]

You truly are accomplished in magic, aren't you? [That tone in his voice is awe.] This is amazing.

[divineth]

[Well now, that's a much better look on Ithaqua's face instead of all that misery.]

I hesitate to consider myself a particularly accomplished wizard just yet, but I did not arrive on this star lacking in experience with magick. Furthermore, wizards of the Western country doth excel in transformation magicks such as this.

[His long-winded explanation ends with a shiver. The cool air was nice on his skin for a moment, but he's quickly losing tolerance. Ithaqua, on the other hand, seems to thrive on this.]

How art thou feeling?

[leewards]

Much, much better, thanks to you. [He wonders if he could learn magic like this... The Northern country values combat more, and so does Ithaqua, but who says they have to cleave so closely to what's expected of them?

(This is how he learns to enchant snowmen properly.)

Then he notes the way Urianger is looking uncomfortable, and he tilts his head, black eyes narrowing.]

Not accustomed to the cold?

[He's not so self-absorbed that he wouldn't recognize someone having difficulty with the cold. In fact, he's well aware of the look.]

[divineth]

Full glad am I to hear it.

[He chuckles when asked about his own tolerance for the cold. He can hold out for a little longer...]

I am not particularly amenable to it, though I fare better when I am appropriately dressed.

[He's wearing sleeveless, lightweight robes and sandals. Not exactly winter attire. But Ithaqua is wearing about the same and he's doing far better than he was in the warm sun!]

I presume thy body is regulated differently than most?

[leewards]

Hmm. [He flexes his hands.]

Did you feel it earlier, when we held each other? I am colder than most people. [Though... he was quite hot then, he wouldn't fault Urianger for not noticing.

Then he stands, flexing his limbs. He's ready to leave this spot for Urianger's sake.]

[divineth]

[He has to stop and think about that for a moment because, embarrassingly, there is a lot about that night that he does not remember.]

In truth, I struggle to recall that sensation. However, it explaineth much about thy heat poisoning today. 'Tis a unique trait that shall no doubt aid thee in the event that we visit the Northern country.

[Which will happen much sooner rather than later!

Suddenly, Ithaqua rises to his feet and Urianger finds himself craning his neck up in confusion.]

Thou art finished so soon? I can maintain this magick with little trouble.

[leewards]

[Ithaqua shakes his head as an initial response, and then dusts off any sand that may have somehow gotten onto his limbs.]

You needn't trouble yourself. If you're uncomfortable with the cold as you are, let's not linger.

[divineth]

[Ah. It wasn't Urianger's intention to draw concern upon himself. He makes a sheepish laugh before getting up.]

Very well. But if thou dost require this again, thou needest only ask.

[He makes a gentle flick of his hand, and the mist begins to return to the pails as regular water.]

Let us not succumb to heat once more.

[leewards]

Perhaps an easier solution for both of us would be to cool down from within.

[Ingesting the right liquids, and whatnot. Why did Ithaqua not think of it before? The heat really did affect his thinking, didn't it?]

Such as a cold drink. [Now he holds out his hand for Urianger's.] Shall we find out if there is some juice left?

[divineth]

Hah. 'Twas hardly a bother.

[It's fine. Sometimes you just need some really strong air conditioning to set your brain straight.

With a nod, he takes Ithaqua's hand. Back to the tent!]

But I do agree. Cold juice soundeth like a lovely alternate solution for the both of us.

[leewards]

[Perhaps now, with no gloves or distractions in the way, Urianger can feel what Ithaqua's skin is like. Calloused, yes, but that's beside the point-- he's cooler than most. Not the coldness of a corpse, but a few steps away from that.

In contrast, Urianger feels warm to him-- though he has not had much opportunity to touch others without his gloves. Or even just most clothes off in general.]

It's no wine, but best we keep off the alcohol for a while... And I do prefer having it only in the evenings, heheh. [He also refuses to pull a Solomon.] This way, we shall also be clear-headed enough to speak about other things.

[divineth]

[So it is... Urianger finds himself looking down at their clasped hands as he takes in the sensation. He wonders what sort of species Ithaqua must be to have such a low body temperature. Something to ask over their conversation, perhaps.]

Thou shalt receive no arguments from me. I would prefer a proper conversation with thee as well.

[And he's not like, a lush or anything. The ball was an outlier that should not be counted.]

'Tis long overdue, wouldn't thou sayest?

[leewards]

I do agree. [He's been curious about this elf for a while, after all, but has been too busy training, studying and trying not to murder people to pay him a visit.] Why not have a chat with the gentleman who indulged me with a dance?

And in an environment that suits him better than the ballroom.

[Reclined on a chair and relaxed, he means. Not performing energetic dances and knocking the wind out of his slender frame. Urianger strikes him as a man who prefers exercising his mind than his body, especially with that display of magic-- that could have only come from will and a lot of practice.]

[divineth]

["trying not to murder people" One of these things is not like the others, help.]

And what a dance it was.

[A lot of that night is a blur, but how could he forget their dance? Ithaqua sure kept him on his toes.]

Still, thou hast the right of it. Though I have labored to further extend myself, I do prefer quieter settings if I can help it.

[He's a recovering hermit.]

[leewards]

I do not blame you.

[He prefers the quiet of the woods, himself, but the forest around the manor is too unfamiliar for him to sleep in. And he has no roof over his head in there to keep the sun out of his eyes as he sleeps, either.]

The manor feels crowded, but still, it serves its purpose. [And he can't complain about the neighbours on his floor. Perhaps those below, but sod them.

When they arrive at the tent, Ithaqua lets Urianger's hand go so he can pick up some of the juice hottles, checking closely to see which ones he'd like to have. He knows what an orange is and has had it before... but what is a mango.]

[divineth]

'Tis the simplest manner of keeping track of our fellow wizards, even if it can become a bit...cacophonous at times.

[Ignoring how Urianger lives right below Ithaqua: yeah, sod those lower floor neighbors, though. /s

Anyway, Urianger watches Ithaqua examine the mango juice bottle with confusion for a moment before offering:]

Art thou unfamiliar with mangos? 'Tis a sweet tropical fruit, comparable in composition to a peach or plum in that it containeth a large pit in its centre.

[leewards]

[The keyword is "tropical" and it's enough for Ithaqua to make a noise of understanding in his throat. He tucks one of the bottles in his pocket, and then waves his hand at the selection, so Urianger can tell him what he wants.]

[divineth]

[Sounds like mango is a winner! Urianger chuckles as Ithaqua stashes it away, then shifts his gaze to peruse what remains. What sounds good, what sounds good...ah.]

I shall have the lemonade.

[leewards]

[Ithaqua snatches the lemonade-- at least he knows what that is!-- and hands it to Urianger after helpfully popping it open with a twist.]

Choose whichever place you prefer, and I'll find something to perch on.

[divineth]

[The little act of service doesn't go unappreciated. Urianger returns it with a smile and a bow.]

I thank thee.

[With that, he leads the way toward a comfy corner of the pillow-filled couches and settles down. It feels better than he imagined it would, so he can't help but let out a contented sigh as he politely crosses his legs and watches for where Ithaqua decides to perch.]

[leewards]

[Unlike Urianger, Ithaqua doesn't feel like sitting like a person right now. He gathers some cushions at the foot of the couch, dragging them if he must, and relaxes on them like a particularly gangly cat. Or dog.

Like a big creature that's decided it has claimed the cushions, the floor, and even the couch, with the way he's settled his cheek against it.

And thenhe sighs contentedly, finally as relaxed as can be.]