Dr Leonard "Bones" McCoy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
homeostatic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2023-08-03 04:00 pm
homeostatic) wrote in ximilialog2023-08-03 04:00 pm
(OPEN) Come down, come down sweet reverence
CHARACTERS: Bones and you!
LOCATION: Sim room
DATE: Couple days after mission end.
CONTENT: Chill time with McCoy on the beach. Stars, s'mores, drinks, snackage, music and reminiscing.
WARNINGS: none atm!
The invite goes out via word of mouth versus anything formal, a wistful mention to friends that maybe travels a little farther than intended. Fine really: the only requirement to join is beachwear and a potluck item of the invitee's choice.
Salty air, soft white sands, the susurrus of a gentle surf, and distant guitar greet those who stop by the sim room that evening. A simple sign of 'Shoes off!' has been plunked onto the nearest dune, with an open basket beneath it for tossing forbidden footwear.
From the top of the dunes, the path leads down to the beach proper, where a small bonfire has been built up a little ways from the water, flames licking high at the emerging stars. Blankets and a few low-slung beach chairs rest in the ring of orange light, welcoming all, with other supplies neatly arranged farther out: a small chest of ice and drinks, a low table of finger foods and the makings of s'mores, a few selections of hard liquor lined up in the sand. There's even a kettle sitting on a stone near the fire, boiling water for tea.
McCoy himself has already snagged a glass of bourbon and a square of blanket, lifting a hand from Jim's acoustic guitar to greet any and all who show up. He plays mostly quiet pieces, with some favorites he remembers (most of) the lyrics to, but will happily give up the instrument to others wanting to play. Maybe add more vigor to the get-together?
First arrivals get the best seats as the sun sinks at last below the horizon, ahead of the silvery moon emerging over the water. There's a surprise a half-hour later: a second moonrise, gleaming golden as she follows her sister's path across the dark, star-studded sky.
Latecomers will find themselves equally welcome, with sticks offered out for roasting marshmallows, and warmer beverage available for imbibing. The breeze coming off the ocean is cooler now, so more blankets are handed out to snuggle up in, either alone or with a friend. Talk, share, tell spooky ghost stories or tales from home, or just stuff yourself with noms and get delightfully buzzed.
Stay all night, if you like– he won't hustle anyone out, but in the morning McCoy may snag you to help distribute the odd hangover remedy, or carry dishes back to the kitchen.
In the meantime? Relax.
LOCATION: Sim room
DATE: Couple days after mission end.
CONTENT: Chill time with McCoy on the beach. Stars, s'mores, drinks, snackage, music and reminiscing.
WARNINGS: none atm!
The invite goes out via word of mouth versus anything formal, a wistful mention to friends that maybe travels a little farther than intended. Fine really: the only requirement to join is beachwear and a potluck item of the invitee's choice.
Salty air, soft white sands, the susurrus of a gentle surf, and distant guitar greet those who stop by the sim room that evening. A simple sign of 'Shoes off!' has been plunked onto the nearest dune, with an open basket beneath it for tossing forbidden footwear.
From the top of the dunes, the path leads down to the beach proper, where a small bonfire has been built up a little ways from the water, flames licking high at the emerging stars. Blankets and a few low-slung beach chairs rest in the ring of orange light, welcoming all, with other supplies neatly arranged farther out: a small chest of ice and drinks, a low table of finger foods and the makings of s'mores, a few selections of hard liquor lined up in the sand. There's even a kettle sitting on a stone near the fire, boiling water for tea.
McCoy himself has already snagged a glass of bourbon and a square of blanket, lifting a hand from Jim's acoustic guitar to greet any and all who show up. He plays mostly quiet pieces, with some favorites he remembers (most of) the lyrics to, but will happily give up the instrument to others wanting to play. Maybe add more vigor to the get-together?
First arrivals get the best seats as the sun sinks at last below the horizon, ahead of the silvery moon emerging over the water. There's a surprise a half-hour later: a second moonrise, gleaming golden as she follows her sister's path across the dark, star-studded sky.
Latecomers will find themselves equally welcome, with sticks offered out for roasting marshmallows, and warmer beverage available for imbibing. The breeze coming off the ocean is cooler now, so more blankets are handed out to snuggle up in, either alone or with a friend. Talk, share, tell spooky ghost stories or tales from home, or just stuff yourself with noms and get delightfully buzzed.
Stay all night, if you like– he won't hustle anyone out, but in the morning McCoy may snag you to help distribute the odd hangover remedy, or carry dishes back to the kitchen.
In the meantime? Relax.
no subject
[But actually she gets it. Time is weird in space, she's been here long enough to know that. She sighs, more exasperated with the orbs and their shenanigans than with Tony Stark being himself.]
No. [Not any more, anyway. Thanks, orbs. She flops back on her blanket.] You know my sister.