07 / 04 / 10 - LOTS
Dressed in a suspiciously church-like fashion (that would include a shirt that buttons rather than one with a fading print of some sort), Jean-Paul enters along the reservoir rather than cutting through the forest from the direction of the residences. Gaze skimming those assembled, he considers a moment with foot paused between one step and the next. Then he heads over, nonchalant, to head for delicious beverages.
Madrox beer-swigs. He appears to be still failing at social (other than idle, automatic glances and nods to each new entrant, even the social ones), but at least he's smiling in an idle way and generally alert.
"Thanks," Xen replies, a little amusedly wry, though he grins. "I'll try my best." He turns and heads down the dock, pausing at the table to grab some s'mores grub, enough for two s'mores, and drifts over to the bonfire where he greets the small gathering of women. He offers a half-grin and smirk, skewering two marshmallows, "Evening, ladies."
"It's pretty ridiculous," Kelsey says to Toby on the subject of his shirt. "S'mores are always popular," she adds to Hailey. A smile is offered to both Kestrel and Xen upon their approaches to the bonfire.
Toby arcs an eyebrow at Xen's greeting alrady putting a marshmallow to the fire. Long hair doth not necessarily equate to boobs. "Hi Miss Brandt." He glances over to Kelsey, giving a nod, "Yes it is!"
"So we're just lazy all around," Harrison concludes from Remy's words. A smirk curving on his mouth in between swigs from his bottle of beer, he adds, "Going to go say hi?" in a rather dry, knowing fashion. As Jean-Paul approaches, he offers a silent nod of greeting.
Ilad advances on prowling steps toward the bonfire. To the people nearest it, he offers a low-toned "Evening," his accent a heavy drape over the simple syllables. But he certainly fails to reach for a marshmallow; the glow of bright heat seems to be draw enough for him.
Isabel gives Xen a half-smile and trudges her way barefoot through the sand to wrap herself in her towel and pull black atheletic shorts on over her suit bottoms, leaving the red haltered tankini top to airdry. So wrapped and be-caped, she swings by for a lemonade before finding a chair and dragging it, telekinetic, toward Tom to drop down into it with a "Hey."
Laughing first at what Toby says, and then Hailey's question, Kestrel stoops to drop off the hard lemonade, straightening up with a bottle in hand. She looks over her shoulder at the other shifter and says, "Thrift stores are the shit, Hotwings. We gotta go shopping sometime in San Fran." Cap twisted off, she takes a swig and then eyes the bottle, trying to decide on whether or not she's digging the flavor at this moment in time.
Tom takes a long swallow from his soda bottle and then rolls it between his hands, glancing up at Isabel -- though the advance of the chair was certainly warning enough of her approach even with telepathy shielded close and tight. He says, "Hey."
S'mores or the water, S'mores or the water...well, chocolate and marshmallow-y goodness win out, and Al is edging towards the fire, careful in her bare feet.
"Evening," Kelsey replies to Ilad with a quieter smile offered to the quieter man. "Glad to see you're here to make sure nobody burns themselves on explosives /too/ badly." She snorts quietly to Toby's enthusiastic response, but the smile remains. Silly Toby.
"New girl, alone on the base, doesn't know anybody... homme, it is practically my job to make sure she's welcomed proper," says Remy, with a choirboy's innocent mien that's just as feigned as any choirboy's is. With a tip of his head and his beer to Harrison, and a second one to Jean-Paul, paired with a "{Going to make up for missing your country's explosions?}" in obnoxiously exclusive, if good-humoured French, he eases a little towards May.
"Oh, didn't see you hiding behind all that long hair, Donohue," Xen responds, half-joking as the pair of marshmallows drift out properly towards the bonfire's flames. And as Ilad steps up to the fire, Xen glances over at the third man to join the little group and nods, "Evening, Ilad." His attention then returns to the s'mores. Have to get it juuuust right, don't you know.
"Hey," Jean-Paul returns for Harrison's silent nod. He reaches in, the tips of his fingers poking over this bottle or that before he snatches one out. Glancing at Remy, his eyebrow twitches just slightly upward. That might be a no.
Gabe makes his way down to the bonfire, toting sodas. How boring. Actually, they're all made with real cane sugar, though, so that's a plus. Maybe he figures at least one person should stay sober, in case of a medical emergency. Anyway, he's still in jeans and threadbare t-shirt and flipflops, his pace pretty lazy as he wanders to the crowd.
"I pulled it back." Toby protests, turning the hangar a little ways to get the other side toasting. Head glancing up to the addressed newcomer, Toby gives a nod in greeting.
"Everybody knows what that means, LeBeau," Harrison tells Remy before taking another pull from his bottle. He frowns a bit at the obnoxiously exclusive French, but doesn't protest verbally. "Good work in Russia, I hear," he says to Jean-Paul instead.
"Do we have too many French people around the fire again?" Madrox 'asks' between swigs.
Isabel takes a moment to settle in, towel tugged tighter around her shoulders and lemonade lifted for a long swallow, before she glances over at Tom. Her frown is half-hearted. "What're you doing?"
"Sitting," Tom answers, after a moment's stock taken. He slouches back in his chair, tipping his head back as he stretches out his feet. "What are you doing?"
Alessia snags a marshmallow to start toasting, a face made at Xen before the redhead grins. She's outside again, and can go swimming again, and there's a bonfire. She can't quiet help being happy. "Hey, y'all." A vocal greeting filled with the bouncy tone of her mood as she glances around. Eyes linger on Ilad a moment, before looking away again.
"Hey, just 'cause I promised Terry I wasn't fishin' in the base pool no more is no reason to be -rude-," Remy half-carols, before with a bow over his beer he turns away from the men to fetch up beside May, a second bottle of beer light-fingered along the way held out with a terribly solemn expression. "X-Factor Welcome Wagon," he greets her. "My name's Remy, an' just wait 'til you find out about local business discounts..."
"Yeah." With a twist, Jean-Paul opens the bottle. Cap held light in his fingers, he twists and then folds it. Glancing away from Harrison, he watches toasting at the fire.
Ilad glances sidelong to mark the hair in question, with only a slight lift of one eyebrow marking what reflection his attention has formed. "Ah yes," he says with a depth of dryness in his quiet voice. "No burning yourselves. There, my task is done."
Isabel considers that question for a moment as she tucks one foot up under her leg, then allows, "Waiting."
Hailey looks down at her own, boring American flag shirt. "Jealous!" she describes herself and then leaves her bonfire in order to snag a beer. She cracks it open and sighs as she takes that first sip.
"I feel safer already," Kelsey assures Ilad.
Xen maintains absolute concentration as he keeps the marshmallows turning over the fire, watching them carefully. And as Alessia slides in around the fire, he flashes her a grin in return, "Evening, Al." As the marshmallows become lightly toasted and nice and gooey inside, Xen pulls them back from the heat. He scoops up the chocolate and graham crackers and manages to thread the gooey marshmallows into the s'mores, pressing them just a little to cement it all together. He doesn't get /too/ much on his fingers. "Be right back," he says, and then turns away. And spotting Isabel over talking with Tom, he heads thataway.
Tom takes a much longer swallow of his soda, and then recaps it, dropping its remains to the side of his chair. "Yeah," he says, grin crooked. "I thought about taking a nap until it got dark." He spots Xen's approach on a slow blink of his gaze, and lifts one hand idly in greeting.
Muttering to herself a moment, Kestrel takes another swig of the hard lemonade and then goes rummaging for something harder. Hopefully there is /something/. Whatever she finds, she dumps some into the lemonade and caps the bottle with a thumb to give it a brief shake. Here's hoping it doesn't taste absolutely atrocious now. She finds a seat and, well, sits.
Harrison arches an eyebrow at Remy's words, and then shakes his head and draws his gaze away to mark Jean-Paul once more. He considers the response a moment and then just nods -- which probably goes unseen, with Jean-Paul looking in a different direction. As Hailey approaches to grab herself a drink, he offers a quick "Bernard" of greeting.
May is tap-tap-tapping on her phone which is probably why she has said nothing so far. But that ends as Remy inches closer, and closer, until he finally finds her, and she finds him as the phone deposits into one of the straps of her bikini top. She smirks, eyes drifting to the taller man, saying, "That, and much more I'm sure. I'm May." An open palm goes to him.
"A /nap/?" Isabel glances over at Tom, scandalized. "What are you, my grandmother?" She's distracted from further mocking only by the appearance of Xen, who is suddenly gifted with the flash of a brightly-curved grin. "There we go," she murmurs.
"Noted!" Toby cheerily replies to Ilad's sound advice. Pulling out his little metal rod with toasted puffy goo on one end. Chocolate and crackers used, a S'more is soon produced and admired by one silly 30 year old, "Haven't had one of these in a long time."
"One o' the top local bits o' gossip about us is that we're all recruited from a modelling agency," Remy shares with May, and juggles the pair of beer bottles so that he can take her hand and bow over it in a bit of sly humour before he releases her and offers the beer instead. "Right now, I think it's about even odds with the one that says we are the new home of Area 51. Parlay that into a discount how y'will."
Ilad passes a hand through the leaping tongues of the bonfire, first in, and then out again. He says, "Good," as he lifts his hand back to his face, tracing knuckles down his jaw and past his chin. "Nor I," he says. "I think on camping trips, we typically default to hot dogs over marshmallow."
Gabe drops off the sodas he brought with the rest of the drinks, snagging a Dublin Dr. Pepper for himself, and as he twists off the cap he surveys the gathering with a faint, more or less pleasant smile.
Madrox takes one more swig, then puts beer next to chair to finally go get some marshmallows to stab with a hanger. He crowds up closer to the flame, necessarily.
Tom gets a nod from Xen, and then the pilot grins back to Isabel, offering one of the s'mores to her. "Hope it meets with your quality inspection."
"Do I look like your grandmother?" Tom demands. He glances up at Xen, and adds with the crack of his own grin, "Don't worry. If it doesn't, she can always roast you over the fire instead."
Alessia manages to not set her marshmallow on fire, pulling it away from the flames while readying some chocolate and graham crackers. "Have ya ever had a smore, Ilad?"
Hailey grins past the bottle at Harrison. "Hello!" She takes a quick look at the bottle and inspects the label. "Not bad," Hailey hums. "Pretty good, actually."
"If it does, are you going to make me another one?" Isabel hopes upward at Xen. She doesn't bother to stir or lean - not when telekinesis can tug the treat toward her without either. Iz glances over at Tom, and then swiftly objects, "Couldn't. Way too heavy."
Toby's eyes follow Ilad's hand as he blows on his smore a little. As the hand is brought towards the man's face, Toby's lips part in commentary. "I think that's an example of a 'Do as I say, not as I do' situation."
Kelsey watches Ilad draw his hand through the fire with a grinning sort of interest. "If you haven't," she tacks onto Alessia's question, "it's a great pity. S'mores are just -- one of those experiences." In fact, it might be time for a s'more for herself: she pulls back the marshmallow and, when it passes inspection, starts putting it together with the other ingredients to build her masterpiece.
Xen grins at Tom, "I don't think anyone thought to bring apples for pig roasting." And then the pilot looks down at Isabel, "You might not want me to. You're lucky you didn't get a black marshmallow this time." There's good enough humor about it all, lifting his own s'more and taking a bite.
Ilad turns a faintly incredulous look in Alessia's direction. "Yes," he says. He expands the angle and hue of this glance toward Kelsey, both eyebrows climbing. "I have had a s'more." He expands on this point with a baffled sort of dryness: "I was a Scout." He tips his head toward Toby, turning out his unharmed hand. "I wouldn't recommend it," he agrees.
"I'm not sure," Madrox says across the fire as he rotates his line of marshmallows in the flames (and one alights), "that s'mores are an /experience/ anyway."
"I'm glad you like the beer that I didn't bring," Harrison tells Hailey with a twitch of a smirk.
"S'mores /are/ an experience," Kelsey insists with a gaze narrowing on Madrox.
"If she's too lazy to roast her own marshmallows she gets what she deserves," Tom says, although you don't notice him picking himself up off HIS chair and going toward the fire. He does lean forward, propping his elbows on his thighs and ducking his head with his lips twisting in a rueful curve. "I guess you're safe, Xen. You're too big /and/ we're short apples."
"If I were really enthusiastic - or if the bonfire were like a /smidge/ closer - I'd just do it myself," Isabel answers Xen with a faint sigh before she turns her gaze sharply toward Tom, scowling. "If you were an awesome friend, you'd offer to make me one," she objects toward him, pinching down on her graham cracker to send marshmallow oozing out the sides, which she promptly tips her head to lick up before taking a proper bite.
Jean-Paul glances to Hailey when Harrison addresses her, but then looks away. Yup, beer. Does beer go with marshmallows? No, probably not. Back to sipping.
"Everything is a type of experience," Toby replies to Madrox, "Just how much of one depends on the person." S'more deemed cool enough to bite into, Toby does so, getting a little dribble of brown on the side of his mouth in the process. YUM!
Alessia holds up a hand. "Hey, ya said hot dogs trumped marshmallows. Sounds like a man who doesn't know marshmallows, to me." S'more in hand, biting into it carefully. Her eyes wander again, lighting on Gabriel, before she's waving as best she can with her beer bottle in hand.
"Lighting a bit of puff on fire and smooshing it on some graham crackers?" Oh no, Madrox is on 'argue' setting. "If your definition of 'experience' is 'everything,' like Toby's, sure, I guess."
"The benefits are endless, I see," May replies, a smile given to the man before she relinguishes the offered beer. She takes a small sip of it but does not reject immediately. "Thanks. I hadn't been to a bonfire in such a long time."
Parked with her mystery drink, Kestrel semi-sprawls in a sunning-like state, although there is a lack of sun to soak up. But still! She is nice and relaxed. Until she takes a sip of her horror-in-a-bottle and grimaces at it. And then takes another sip, anyway.
"Lucky me," responds Xen amusedly. He munches another bite of his s'more as he eyes Isabel. It looks as if it's passed inspection /so far/. Omnomnomnom.
Hailey shrugs. "Hey. I'm glad too." She grins and glances over. "Do you have beer you did bring? I'll try it. Doubling fisting for America." Hooting with amusement, Hailey looks around and spies Kestrel. "God, you are /so weird/." It's affectionate, of course!
"I feel very sorry f'your deprivation then, Miss May," says Remy, with his beer bottle pressed briefly to his heart and his eyes bright. "We'll have to do our best to make it up t'you. Purely as a reward f'your service to our country, and nothin' at all to do with how fine y'look by firelight," he assures.
"My definition of 'experience' is not 'everything,'" Kelsey retorts with a frown. "It's not my fault that you don't appreciate the true value of s'mores." Does her 'argue with Madrox' setting ever get turned off? She squishes her completed s'more together and licks up some of the marshmallow and chocolate the ends up oozing out. Pointedly. /Delicious, dammit/.
Although her expression twitches from a supressed smile, Kestrel doesn't open her eyes to look over at Hailey. Instead, she simply responds with, "/You're/ the one talking about double-fisting for America, Hotwings."
"The one has actual food value," Ilad says, annoyance rendering his voice abruptly flat. He flicks a glance between Kelsey and Madrox.
Okay, okay. So it is not /her/ holiday, no, but there has been a promise of /things exploding/ (maybe), and a fire, and beer that is totally for winners. Thus, Nadia approach: /late/, yes, but not /so/ late. She has replaced her earlier jeans with shorts that do not, thankfully, venture into short-short territory, and ditched the unbuttoned-button down, leaving band t-shirt and hair loose. Thus, on battered, beat-up Chucks, up she traipses, and moves off in search of -- what else. A hot dog. (Mebbe a beer if she can sneak it.)
"When I could trust everyone else to bring beer?" Harrison replies with a snort. What a cheapskate. He glances over at Kestrel and tips his beer in her direction. "Nothing wrong with double-fisting for /any/ reason, Birdy."
Remy's beer is present in case form, and is sitting under minimal guard near Harrison. How daring is Nadia feeling?
Catching sight of the wave, Gabe makes his slow way over to Alessia, greeting her with a warm smile and a light clink of his bottle against hers. Cheers. He remains, however, pretty quiet, content with just observing for the moment.
"You know what's an experience?" Madrox grumbles as the lower marshmallows brown to the top marshmallows black. "Staying up all night to snag perps. Or going flying. Or something /interesting/. Maybe a really good firework."
Toby frowns, munching away at his smore.
"I guess I'm just not as awesome a friend as Xen, then," Tom says. He grins up at Isabel with a kind of bright-cocky edge in his vivid green eyes, and then glances out across at first the bonfire and then the water, as if in idle consideration of the generally assembled X-Factor populace.
"Well, you have one of those options available to you," Kelsey tells Madrox, a little weary-annoyed. "Maybe you could exercise some initiative."
"If it's /for America/ than it's fine. I'll sign up for AA tomorrow. Maybe." Hailey snerks and takes another long drink of her beverage. "Birdy. Hah!"
"May," she corrects. The former makes her seem old, and that's not good. She takes in her appearance for a moment, another sip from her beer coming slowly, and then tilts her head to the man. "You mean, it has not even a little bit to do with how fine I look, Remy?"
"Chocolate has value. Sugar." Al responds to Ilad. "But Ah was kiddin', anyhow." A smile for Gabe, offering him a bite of her S'more.
"/Clearly/," Isabel grouches, and then, quite belatedly, she thinks to offer up to Xen, "Thanks. Not a bad effort." She wriggles a bit, lifting a hand back to flip wet hair over the back of her chair, and then turns her gaze in a slow circle around the group with a keen eye. "I'm trying to figure out who /else/ is a better friend than you," she notes to Tom.""
"Maybe you could - stop exercising your face," Madrox fires back, for a given value of firing. That one actually sounds more like a tease. It is possible!
That twitchy smile turns into a pretty wicked grin as Kestrel does open her eyes to look at Harrison. "Oh, you into that kinda thing, huh, Nice Boy?" And she just smirks at Hailey.
"Wow," Kelsey replies blandly. "Good one." She takes a stubbornly enjoying bite of her s'mores.
"None at all... and I never, -ever- lie, cher." says Remy to May with a wink over his beer bottle. "The way I notice the light is catching y'eyes is purely professional." Madrox's attempts at firing earn a slight editorial shake of his head.
Toby glances over to Madrox at his retort, "Wow. Are you five?"
"I can't be on /all/ the time. Have to save some for - other people." Madrox inserts another of his awkward pauses in the middle of that before turning a straight-face at Toby. "Yes. I am."
Hailey gags. "What? /Kes/. Beer! Like... two beers!" She steps over to toe her friend in the side. "Dirty!"
Gabe gives a small shake of his head in the negative at the offered s'more bite, with a slight smile as a thanks. He might get one later, but for now he's not so much in the mood for gooey goodness. He has Dr. Pepper, instead.
That gets a laugh from May, not pushing it further. She does happen to turn towards the firing between the others, and her smile dims slightly. "Is this normal for them?" she asks Remy of what seems to be arguing to her.
Ilad makes no comment. He reaches into the flame and gathers up a handful of fire. When he has his own bonfire in miniature bound by the cup of his hands, he walks away from the bonfire and its associated ... people. He moves with some exaggerated care to the pad of his feet and with attention to his path, because walking into people while carrying fire bare-handed strikes him as a bad idea.
"Well, if the situation calls for it," Harrison replies to Kestrel with some gleam of reply in his dark eyes and the upward twitch of his mouth.
His grin lingering, almost lazy in the slow sweep of his eyelashes, Tom tells Isabel, "Let me know if you figure that one out."
Xen cleans up some stray marshmallow with a swipe of a finger at his lips, still grinning, "Thanks. Maybe you can teach me the /proper/ way to cook a s'more next time." The pilot shakes his head and takes the last bite of his sticky treat. He glances over at the assembled folks in time with Tom and Isabel, then glances back down at the pair of them, "Oh. Also, thanks for the little celebration the other week. Happy birthday." There's a pause, and then an added, "Very belatedly."
"If we had Facebook accounts, they'd be an 'it's complicated'," says Remy in reply, with a crooked smile and a wave of his hand that seeks to reassure May and her dimming smile. "Best thing t'do is leave them to work it out an' join in on the bettin' pool."
/Minimal guard/ is pretty great. Nadia is at least feeling daring enough for the approach, for the snatch and grab that is more along the 'I am ttly allowed, no really' end of the grabby spectrum than the 'I am doing this fast so you can't see me!!!' end. "Hello," is sort of a lameass intro to any kind of conversation, but /oh well/. God only knows who she's saying it to. (Now ... hot dogs. S'mores?)
Kestrel bwahahas at Hailey's reaction, a sip of her god awful drink unable to even silence it completely. She just gestures to Harrison after what he says, as if to say 'See?' to the other shifter, before she grins at the mechanic. "Uh-huh."
Kelsey just rolls her eyes at Madrox, pointedly unimpressed with his totally failed attack. She eats her s'mores instead of dignifying it with further responses, though she does glance at Ilad's departure with renewed interest. Mini-bonfires are kinda cool.
Toby's head tilts a moment at Madrox's response before finishing off his S'more. "MMmmm. What an EXPERIENCE."
Silently, Jean-Paul taps his fingers on the neck of the bottle as he tracks conversations and the flow of people. His eyes narrow, and remains so as he looks at the grabby Nadia. His eyebrow twitches upward in her direction.
Hailey groans and rolls her eyes. "You are worse than a flock of college frat boys." She leans to snag the drink in Kestrel's hand and switch it out with her own beer. "Why don't you have a little bit of fun, huh?"
Madrox snorts. His lobbied, "Bastard," at Toby seems rather more fond than exasperated. He withdraws his thoroughly cooked marshmallows from the flames and tilts a glance toward Jean-Paul.
She gives his comment an "Ahhhh," and then nods in recognition, taking another sip from the beer that she seems to be enjoying now. Her eyes dart to them--over there!--but not for too long, whispering to Remy, "My money goes to her," says May.
"Maybe she is having fun," Harrison points out to Hailey. Sitting and drinking is fun! And...talking to Harrison? Sometimes.
After a stifled snort of a laugh at Toby, Kelsey tells Madrox in a dry tone, "If that's what your marshmallows look like, no wonder you don't appreciate s'mores."
"Sorry, wrong." Toby replies chipperly as he grabs another marshmallow, "They were married."
"Hey. Ah um...Kendra an' Ah were talkin' about goin' out later this week. Probably up to San Fran, sort of an open invitation to anyone who wants to come...Ah... do ya have clinic duty?" Al asks Gabriel before finishing off her S'more.
Mickey made an attempt to be ...barely festive. Blue jeans, red sweatshirt, white sneakers. Does it count? No, probably not. But the thought was there. The young male wanders in, late evidently, from the general base vicinity, to promptly blend into the crowd, likely.
Nadia does not find a hot dogs -- she finds a Jean-Paul, and his eyebrow. She counters with a lift of her own. Are these twist-off caps? Hopefully, otherwise the top of the bottle twisted into the hem of her shirt is awfully out of place.
"You can't manage the proper way," Isabel answers with the breath of a laugh as she turns back to Xen and tugs a trio of marshmallows free from their bag long-distance. The floating puffs of sugary sweetness dodge around a few people and weave their way through the crowd before coming to hover in front of Isabel, and she pops one up toward Xen in indication. She snorts at the last, but dips her head and responds with a warm enough smile, "Thanks."
"Wise choice," says Remy with a grave nod, and a crinkle to the corner of his eyes as he spots the ttly sneaky Nadia at work. A lift of his beer bottle beckons her over, before he continues on to May that "As a linguist, Kelsey takes no verbal prisoners in any o' the tongues she speaks," in tones not unlike that of a sportscaster before a match.
Closer to waterfront than bonfire, Ilad folds himself down on the sand with his legs crossed, carefully juggling his handful of flame as it glows over his palms. He peers up into the gathering dusk, head tipped back. He puts out a general inquiry to those nearest of, "Dark enough?"
Harrison is ttly fun to talk to. Usually, Kestrel would not object to the drink swapping, but in this particular instance, she warns, "Uh, Hotwings, I dunno if you'll like that. It's got, uh--a bit extra in it." It is mystery lemonade! And strong, whatever the hell it is. She eyes the replacement beer for a moment, then sips that, since it is there.
Maybe Nadia just wanted to pull her shirt up. Skank. Jean-Paul blands back at her eyebrow and makes no comment on her acquisition of alcohol. He tiny-sips, then tips his bottle toward her in a mocking toast.
When he spots Nadia trying to open her bottle with her shirt out of the corner of his eye, Harrison digs out his keys and holds them -- and the bottle opener keychain -- out in her general direction without looking. Don't be a skank, Nadia.
Gabe's gaze briefly unfocuses, but before his pupils can even start to really dilate, his eyes shift and slip back to Alessia. "I should be able to go," he says, a small but warm smile in place.
Hailey sniffs at the drink, wrinkling her nose curiously. "Extra?" She asks, plopping beside the other girl in a cross legged sit. "What... it's legal, though. Right?"
Arching his eyebrows at that last, Tom's mouth pulls slightly sidelong-sour, but what he says is, "Thanks," in easy enough echo of Iz.
Alessia looks around the fire, finding Toby, Kelsey, Madrox and the rest of them. "Everyone's welcome, of course. Just Ah wanna dance on my birthday." Eyes flick up to Gabe, "Can Ah con ya into one?"
May feels proud in her decision making. "I'll remember that," she replies, taking note of how much she is actually enjoying the beer. Her eyes wander to those gathered and her cold feet keep her in one spot. "Maybe I should say hello or something. Being rude isn't something I'm good at."
"Ah, right," Xen says as he notes Isabel's demonstration with her marshmallows, then nodding at the return of thanks by the both of them, a slight grin on his face. "And now, if two will excuse me, I need something to wash that s'more down." Thus saying, he turns to head in the direction of all of the drinks.
"We got plenty who make a callin' of it around the base as-is," is Remy's opinion on rudeness, one hand rubbing along his jawline as he lets a faint smile slip. "But that shouldn't stop y'from sayin' y'hellos. Go on, cher, an' if any of 'em bite come on back an' I'll tell y'dirty lies about 'em until y'laughin' again."
"Toooooby, where's your laptop? Did it get severed from your hip?" Mickey asks, showing up roughly behind Toby, grinning, to pop by and tease him, apparently.
"Hey," Isabel says to Tom, nudging at him with a lift of her foot as she deposits one of the marshmallows in his lap for his consumption. She jerks her chin toward Ilad and his tiny hand-held bonfire, and wonders, "So what, he's providing the lighter?" Because surely his hands aren't just that cold.
Laughing, Kestrel shakes her head. "Yeah, girl, it's /legal/. I just kinda made myself a mat shot lemonade, since that shit was weak solo. You go on and take a sip, but you spit it out, I'm gonna crack up at you." Hailey's so not getting the beer back now.
"Why are you pelting me with marshmallows?" Tom says. He shrugs his shoulders, reaching to pick up his present so that he can pop it whole into his mouth. With his mouth full of lovely crisped sugar puff, he adds, "Hell if I know," he adds. Why are you asking my one alt about my other one?
Nadia wrinkles her nose at Jean-Paul's mocking toast, but fishes her beer out of her shirt (maybe she did) to lift it right back -- as she reaches out to snag Harrison's offered keys. (She probably has a churchkey on her. But this is better.) Bottle opened, she pockets the cap, and passes the keys back. "Thanks," has maybe had a little practice coming out on the manly-grunt side, but she doesn't linger. (Maybe she is still sore about losing at pool.) She sips, half-meanders toward Remy. (She caught that summons, yo.)
Yet another marshmallow gains a slight tint of toastiness to one side before it's rotated. Toby smiles contently to the practice as a Mickey greets him from behind. Head tilting back he chuckles, "Bonfires, explosions, and circuitry don't mix." His head nods over to the unclaimed hangars, "Come on, grab a marshmallow, make a s'more!"
"I say it's dark enough," Kelsey calls back to Ilad. Belatedly. Oops.
"Next time I'll eat them all myself," Isabel answers, popping one of her two into her mouth before she wrinkles her nose at Tom and pushes up toher feet. "Someone here has fireworks," she determines lowly. "And I have never wanted to blow something up as much as I do right now." She slings her towel over the back of her chair and curls her toes into the sand, turning in a slow pivot to eye the crowd for potential fireworks possession.
"Sure," Gabe answers amiably enough, a smile showing around a sip of soda. His hand hovers for a moment or so at the small of her back, before he half-turns to scope out the seating situation. Hmm. Chair or log or ground...
"You already laugh at me all the time!" Hailey reminds and readies herself. She puts the drink to her lips and takes a quick sip. She stops, blinks, and swallows very painfully. "Aw, Crumbs," she groans and shudders. "That's terrible. Trying to get drunk? There are better ways."
The fireworks that Harrison brought are in their bags probably around the tables, but he is not currently hovering over them to lay claim.
Harrison looks between Kestrel and Hailey with smirking humor before snagging his keys back from Nadia and depositing them back into his pocket. "It's not like there aren't other drinks," he points out to the two shifters.
Ilad does not have fireworks. He does, however, have a double handful of fire. He separates it into two fires by pulling his hands apart, and then shoots both into the air. Gaze narrowed in concentration as he looks up at his pillars of flame, he starts messing around with color-heat: the one lightens into a blue-white blaze, fiercely, viciously hot, while the other fades into a cooler, mellow red-orange. What a show-off.
"What, don't you like sand in everything?" Mickey asks. "Add some grit to your s'mores," he adds, cheerfully squatting to accept the toasting of marshmallows offer--- though he cheats, some of the chocolate for the first one goes into the mouth, instead of the squishy sandwich. Incidentally, his tail is out, but held down inconspicuously towards his left leg. If you can call having a tail at all inconspiculous. "Is it just starting?" Mickey asks; he'd have the appropriate passion Isabel is glancing around for.
Total show-off. Remy, who was probably planning something similar but tailored to his own powers, looks mildly disgruntled before he takes a pull of his beer and lets the moment pass in favour of a shrill and approving whistle. Fire good.
"Deal," May says with a smile. She is a fan of beelines, apparently, as making one seems almost imminent but it gets the job done, inching closer to the others. Her focus goes to the s'mores but, belatedly, hovers on a familiar face when she thought there were none. Becoming the sneaky sort, May finds her way next to Mickey and even closer into Toby's ear, saying, "So this is why you wanted to recruit me? To have me sprawled on a beach with a beer in hand, hmm?" It is a soft kind of saying, friendly even.
Kestrel just laughs again, both at what Hailey says and at the face she makes. Humming a little to keep from laughing /more/, she snatches the failonade back. "I hate wasting booze," she says to Harrison. As if this is a good excuse to keep drinking the trainwreck. A beat, and she adds, "We should do shots or something."
Token appearance. (1/2)