Under the Sea (Open)

[poeticverses]

Characters: Jehan, Grantaire, Byrn, and everyone who wants to join them!
Date: April 23rd, midmorning to late evening
Location: The edge of the turtle!
Situation: Swimming! A picnic! A party!
Warnings/Rating: I'm going to rate this PG-13 for naked/nearly naked people, alcohol, and smoking. Also R's mouth. And apparently terrible mythological comparisons.

[Jehan has never been this happy, he doesn't think. The ocean. The blue, warm ocean. He gets to see it again, gets to swim in it with his friends, gets to enjoy it. He's so happy.

Of course, he's taking a long moment to shed anything but his coat once the group gets to the edge. It's a beautiful shade of blue and he can't not admire it.]


((ooc: go crazy!))

Comments

[trifurcate]

[Sorry Henry, but even as happy as Bryn is, the effect of Tu Vishan means she's far more likely to be affectionate with her friends, in whatever state of dress or undress she's in.]

When is the last time you've gone swimming anyway? Has it been a long time or do you go often back home?

[epigrammatical]

[Henry actually has to think about it.]

I have been to the seaside as recently as last year, but one rarely swims there these days—one promenades, or sits by the ocean thinking poetical thoughts, or wishing one were back in London, where later one will wish one was at the seaside. No, it has been more years than I care to think of since I have been swimming like this.

[Oxford? Or a time he and Basil were out at Basil's family country house? It bothers him that he can't quite remember.]

[trifurcate]

[Drifting around in Henry's general vicinity, Bryn cocks her head to the side as Henry comments on the contrariness of those in his society, but smiles all the same.]

Then I'm glad to have drawn you into it. It's wonderful, isn't it? Entirely freeing. It's moments like these that I feel as if I'm part of the world around me instead of simply existing in it. I'm just disappointed I don't have fins.

[epigrammatical]

Ah, that is what it is to truly live—to immerse oneself in experience. Quite literally, in this case. [A smirk. It's an uncharacteristically ridiculous joke for him.] You would make a very fetching mermaid, I should think.

[trifurcate]

[The joke makes her smile wider, however, as she takes it as a sign that he's giving in to the joy of the day by letting himself speak as he pleases.]

All shining scales and a garland of seaweed and pearls for my hair perhaps? You would probably look magnificent as well, come to think of it.

[epigrammatical]

[He laughs.] I never fancied myself a Triton, I confess, and my friends are more likely to call me a satyr, if they must name me as any creature of antiquity.

[trifurcate]

It doesn't seem quite the right fit for you, I agree. Let's see. We've talked of graces, naiads, mermaids, and now satyrs. What are their defining characteristics?

[epigrammatical]

[Henry drifts idly in the water as he speaks, gaze somewhere off in middle distance.]

A naiad might be mistaken for an ordinary human girl, it was said; they inhabited streams and rivers and the like. Satyrs were part of the retinue of Dionysus, the Greek wine-god; they were said to be distinguished by goat-like ears and beard, and in some interpretations, with the lower body of a goat as well.

[He smirks.] The satyrs were very fond of feminine company as well.

This is a bad idea in so many ways, for so many reasons...

[trifurcate]

[Swimming closer, she gives his beard a look.]

Well you certainly have the beard, though I'm afraid your ears are not at all goat-like.

[She smiles a bit wider, enjoying joking this way.]

I know your fond of wine and feminine company...all that remains is...

[Trailing off, she dives under water.]

so bad.

[epigrammatical]

[It takes him a moment to realise what she's up to.

Were this some play in the privacy of the bedchamber he would simply relax and let her have her way, and let matters go where they will. But they are out in public, in front of other people.

Which is why he abruptly splashes backward in a startled attempt to evade her.]

[trifurcate]

[The thing is she's not intending to do anything, just swim down as if she's going to check for goat legs. Really she just swims down a bit and resurfaces off to the side, immediately running her hands over her hair to slick it out of her face.]

No goat legs, but perhaps I can see why they might make the comparison.

[She gives him a cheeky grin, enjoying for once being able to fluster the usually unflappable Lord Henry Wotton.]

[epigrammatical]

[...That's not what she means. He is quite sure that is not what she means.

Well, so much the better to make her blush, then. Fair's fair.]

My dear Bryn, I wasn't aware that you were so familiar with matters of animal husbandry.

[trifurcate]

[She doesn't get what he means at first. She hadn't been talking about that, she had been talking about the earlier commonalities! The beard! The thing for feminine company! Associations with gods of wine (who didn't love a good glass?).

The realization strikes in an instant and Bryn's eyes go wide and her jaw drops. She laughs but it's not one of amusement but of being flabbergasted as she sputters.]

Henry I didn't--I mean--that wasn't what I was--I didn't check that.

[epigrammatical]

[And Henry just laughs.]

[trifurcate]

[Entirely flustered, Bryn's face gets red. She closes her mouth and lets Henry have his laugh. It's only fair after having pushed him off balance so often that afternoon.]

[epigrammatical]

[He is content; not smug, exactly, but pleased to have gotten at least a bit of his own back.]

My dear girl, I had no idea that you blushed so beautifully.

[trifurcate]

[She huffs a little breath before finally managing a small, sheepish smile.]

That is because I don't blush so easily anymore.

[Bryn is a grown woman now :T! Not given to blushing!!]

[epigrammatical]

Then I feel as if I have glimpsed the rarest of birds.

[trifurcate]

One you're not likely to glimpse often.

[She's just, going to duck her head under water a moment to cool her face, quickly so that he won't accuse her of trying to sneak a peek once more.]

[epigrammatical]

Then I shall treasure the experience.

[trifurcate]

I wish you joy of it.

[Okay, she is pouting a little, but good-naturedly so.]

[epigrammatical]

[He's actually grinning.]

Shall we call it even, my dear?

[trifurcate]

[She is giving you a look, Henry! Slightly disgruntled but showing signs of good humor.]

Very well, even then.

[epigrammatical]

Splendid. [He's just beaming right back at her.] Do you know, I had thought myself quite incapable of having a new experience or a new emotion, but all at once I have been proved entirely wrong, and I have you to thank for that.

[trifurcate]

[And oh, that makes her finally break and laugh.]

Oh, well then I'm so pleased to have given you the opportunity. Perhaps I ought to take it upon myself to give you new experiences and emotions more often.