Event | Satellite | Salvage & Repairs

[ironwood]

Characters: Any and all!
Date: May 22 - 26, 2013
Location: Keeliai, turtleside, ARSHEPHELIOS cluster remains
Situation: The fires are put out and repairs around the city have begun. With life preserved, eyes turn now to what exactly crashed down into the ocean.
Warnings/Rating: Please put CW in your subject lines

Satellite Crash Event

Crash Landing | Salvage Party | Shocking Spectres

Questions | Keeliai | Repairs | Salvage | Other | Oceanside | Shellside | ARSHEPHELIOS-side | Coralside


The majority of fires are reported as under control and repair crews start forming up to bring Keeliai back to her pre-scorched splendour. This is all well and good, but there remains a cluster of debris that crashed into the ocean drawing the attention of salvagers and Foreigners alike. Boats and teams form up and head up to scour the ocean, where the cluster rests upon an expansive and ancient coral formation and can be reached within ten metres of the surface.

Comments

[depicted]

[Dorian will just be tugging that cup away to refill it, then.] It looks safe, but when you step across, you fall right through.

[usavatar]

So I'm unreliable? [The question is teasing, for all that he isn't sure what Dorian means. He accepts his refill without imbibing at once.]

[depicted]

You're not as innocent as you're assumed to be, and I'm considered something of an expert on that. [Dorian doesn't wait on Steve to drink.] I've never been played quite the way you played me. And the way you can match Harry! People overestimate your maturity, they think you've experienced more than you have, but they vastly underestimate your intelligence and your cunning. It makes you more dangerous. Charming, too, of course.

[usavatar]

[Steve is not entirely sure what to make of that mix of compliments and assessments, so he focuses on his glass instead.] Did I play you? I didn't mean to.

[depicted]

You made me keep promises. [This is manipulative. Somehow. Don't ask.]

[usavatar]

[Steve sputters a laugh into the wine, half-choking for a moment before he swallows and can breathe again. The grin he flashes at Dorian is full of wicked innocence.] Oh. That.

[He gives Dorian a tiny toast.] We should all try something new once in a while.

[depicted]

[A sulk and a roll of the eyes and Dorian finishes off the cup. It's going to his head, but not fast enough. Another cup required!] And there it is: hay over the water.

[usavatar]

At least I float. [He's an optimist. An optimist holding out his own cup with a sigh.] You know we won't be able to move this with the lid off, and if we got it outside someone else is bound to notice.

[depicted]

[The cup is refilled in a heartbeat.] It's almost as if you're suggesting we'll have to drink it all here right now.

[usavatar]

I think we'd both die. [Raised eyebrows as he savors this serving instead of drinking it down.] And I'm not as resilient as you in bouncing back.

[depicted]

But you do take more to get down in the first place. [He raises his cup to that.]

[usavatar]

[Steve shakes his head and raises his own, feeling the gnaw of intoxication starting at the edge of his senses.] I'm surrounded by bad influences.

[depicted]

By good company, you mean.

[usavatar]

That too. [He sits down with his back against the nearest wall, enjoying the cool of the basement now that he's finished adjusting to the dark and the wine has washed out the taste of dust. He swills his cup before taking another long drink.] You get to explain to Peggy.

[depicted]

Coward. [Dorian paces around the barrel, looking for—yes. A tap. He settles down beside it so that a refill is just a push of a button away.] It should come from you. I think she might have a bad impression of me.

[usavatar]

What makes you say that? [He knows about Peggy and Dorian's dance, their conversation. There's very little that passes in their lives that the other doesn't know about in one way or another. He slides his cup over to Dorian.]

[depicted]

[It's refilled in a moment and passed back.] Well, she has seen my real face. And what we're doing now isn't likely to help my standing.

[usavatar]

'Your real face'. You keep saying that. [Steve rubs the corner of one eye before he takes a sip.] You aren't holding my head under the tap.

[depicted]

[Dorian is offended at the very idea.] God, no. I'm not a Buller man.

[usavatar]

'Buller man'? [He draws one knee up and rests his cup on it.]

[depicted]

The Bullingdon club of Oxford. Loud, brash, and drunk.

[usavatar]

[A pause.] To be fair, you have the last two.

[depicted]

[He gets about as offended as an insulted cat.] I am not brash or drunk.

[He's just reckless in a charming way and often less than sober]

[usavatar]

You're always brash, and you're getting to drunk. [Steve smiles down at his cup. There's something about Dorian's indignation that's incredibly sweet, in its own way. The fact that even after living so long he can still get his hackles up over teasing.]

[depicted]

[Dorian feels the need to refute with a creative reinterpretation of his state of being.] Charmingly reckless and not always sober, thanks. And what about you? You're not exactly the picture of caution yourself.