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

[cynisme]

[He wants to draw Enjolras. It's not the first thought he had upon seeing their Greek God of a leader out of dress; he could never claim to be so pure or so unspoiled. It was his third, after less savory thoughts and then a self-derisive follow-up. Funny, how rarely he actually wants to draw. He draws because it's something he knows how to do, has been trained to do, but he has little to no passion for it. Not like some of his fellow students who have already succeeded in academic acceptance or worse.

Yet that would be Enjolras, wouldn't it? The one who always brings out that inspiration in Grantaire, as hidden and rusted it tends to be. Always Enjolras whom he gravitates towards, despite his mistress being present(he half calls her that because it bothers her, and half because it's familiar to him and he's never been so blessed to have one of his own). Swimming had been fun, but from the moment of Enjolras' arrival he was lost. He's sitting on, on the sand beside Enjolras, one knee up and his arms around that knee as the other leg remains extended against the sand. He's silent, watching and thinking as he always does when he's not yammering on, now wishing he had a pencil and some paper, and wanting to find Combeferre's own.]