(mingle) It must be party time

[forethinking]

Who: Ren Amamiya, Wanda Maximoff, you!
When: 12th of September
Where: Good Harbor Beach
Summary: Here's the barbecue log! Eating, playing games, having a bonfire and sleep-over on the beach!
Warnings: Alcohol? Ghost stories?



ɪ. ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ

Congratulations, you've made it to the Good Harbor Beach September barbecue! With the weather cooling, but still pleasant enough, it's a pleasure to have a hangout involving ADI's residents and those who live at Bonnie's. There are still so many people who don't know one another, and many to strengthen bonds with, so the hours your dearest Wanda and Ren spend cooking and flipping and seasoning are nothing but rewarding! Seeing people enjoying themselves is great and it's motivating for them to keep doing these encounters every now and then.

On the menu, we have:
- Burgers;
- Steaks with jacked potato sides;
- Ribs;
- Zucchini-and-Pecorino fritters;
- Several different salads, including ovcharska;
- Aubergine kebabs with charred onion salsa;
- Salmon yakitori;
- Takoyaki;
- Cupcakes
- Apples and honey;
- Cherry dumplings;
- Sarmale filled with rice;
- Bundevara (pumpkin pie);


For drinks, there's a selection of alcohol, as well as coffee, water, tea, and a variety of sodas. Take in the nice view, jump on the ocean, sink your toes in the sand and enjoy yourselves. There aren't any usable tables, but there are several blankets on the floor for your perusal.

ɪɪ. ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ

With bellies full, now it's when the real fun begins. There are a few decks of cards being passed around, as well as one of their single tables now organized to a beer-pong competition. Individually, games such as Never Have I Ever, as well as Truth or Dare can be seen, and those who wish to use their skills for entertaining are more than welcome to do so.

A little bonding here, a little drunken chatting there, this is your time to shine!

ɪɪɪ. ᴀ ʙᴏɴꜰɪʀᴇ

With those who have a curfew to worry about in mind, a bonfire is lit, and a few tents are set around the beach (may have to be shared). If anyone's got a nice story, now it's the time to share it, or perhaps if anyone can play an instrument, it's about time to break it out of its case. The night will be lively until the early hours of the morning, and of course, mindful of those who couldn't stay up this late.

The next morning, everyone will be properly thanked for their attendance and tupperwares will be distributed with leftovers for those who'd like to take some food home, the beach will be cleaned impeccably and everyone will go their own way, hopefully with smiles and a new sense of unity and connection from the amazing night they've just experienced.

ɪᴠ. ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏᴏᴄ ɴᴏᴛᴇ

(Please put in your top-level subject line or prompt line whether it's okay to threadjack! Just to keep things more dynamic, we encourage it!)

Comments

i

[sorser]

[Guess who’s not in his sorcerer’s regalia today? It’s Stephen, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, dragging a rolling cooler full of drinks through the sand. The sight is absolutely mundane compared to their first meeting, which might make it all the more surreal.

A beach barbecue isn’t exactly his scene, but he did promise he would help; the preparation for this many people showing had kept him surprisingly busy. Stephen scoots the cooler next to a table with a spread of food, then stoops down to open it up — it’s full of unopened soda cans, nestled snugly in a bed of ice.]

Haven’t you ever bent the rules a little?

[Even Stephen, whose responsibilities are bigger than most back home, doesn’t always strictly adhere to the by-the-book rules. And this?

This is just a barbecue.]

[ployboy]

[This entire other worldly experience has been the worst fever dream Tim's had the misfortune to conjure up. He's watching the man, detached enough to be defensive, but there's an obvious understanding that wasn't, well, with Tim. before.

There's no freaking way anyone from the League or Council or-- literally no way anyone would get roped into pulling a soda cooler down the beach, looking like an average American dad.

(Correction, there is of course a way but the obsessive paranoia can only stretch so far.)

Tim makes an offended little noise, like a real protest got stuck at the back of his throat.]

I-- yeah, sometimes. Do you need help? [He asks like he hasn't already swiped... a marshmallows bag.]

[sorser]

[There’s something quaint about all of this, and maybe even Stephen can appreciate the mundanity of a barbecue in the midst of the less-than-ideal circumstances as to why they’re even here in this world. It exists to while away the idle hours, which is always a positive in his book — he’s allergic to idle hands, you see.

Stephen looks pointedly at the bag of marshmallows.]

It looks like you’ve already got your hands full. Straight for the sweets?

[He straightens, having plucked one of the sodas from the cooler, remnants of already-melting ice clinging to its side.]

But no, I’ll be fine. I promised Wanda I would help, not that I would enlist help along the way. You should try to unwind and enjoy yourself.

[Tim can do that, surely.]