The wind whipped harshly, his dark wavy hair swirling about his face as he removed the six foot steel pole from the back of his pick up truck. He carried the pole to the edge of the water and then stabbed the wet sand with the end of the pole. It took some effort but the pole was eventually buried deep enough in the sand it wouldn't fall over or come out without effort.
Going back to the truck, he grabbed a large black bag that looked like it saw a lot of sun. There were spots where the black had faded but the bag was still in really good shape. He unzipped the bag and grabbed what looked like a padded black handle from the bag with thick cords of rope attached to the handle by a series of multi-colored carabiners. He carried the padded handle over to the steel pole, the ropes uncoiling from the bag and snaking along behind him. Once the handle was secured on the pole, he returned to the bed of the truck and pulled a long in width, and a few feet in height bag towards him. He unzipped the bag to expose something that looked like a jacked up umbrella. He pulled the contraption out of the bag and unfolded it, forming a kite - it looked more like a parachute, but it was a kite.The sail was a vivid, flaming orange with a black outline. He connected the ropes that were still neatly coiled in the first bag to the kite with more carabiners. Then, he waited for a large gust and launched the kite into the air. The breeze caught the kite and started rocketing it upwards. The rope was uncoiling in a blur before the rope was free from the bag and holding taut by the padded handle attached to the steel pole.
The male's light green eyes followed the thick ropes up into the sky to watch the kite dancing in the wind as airstreams changed at whim. His hair was brunette, the natural wave of the locks causing it to hang just below his shoulders. His body was slim but muscular - obviously athletic but not bulky.
With his calling card in the air all he could do now was wait. He went back to his truck and pulled a large white ice chest out of the back, the muscles of his arms and back straining under the weight as he lowered it. He sat on the ice chest and gazed up at the kite. His surf board was still in the bed of his truck. He would get it out in a bit. For now, he waited.
Going back to the truck, he grabbed a large black bag that looked like it saw a lot of sun. There were spots where the black had faded but the bag was still in really good shape. He unzipped the bag and grabbed what looked like a padded black handle from the bag with thick cords of rope attached to the handle by a series of multi-colored carabiners. He carried the padded handle over to the steel pole, the ropes uncoiling from the bag and snaking along behind him. Once the handle was secured on the pole, he returned to the bed of the truck and pulled a long in width, and a few feet in height bag towards him. He unzipped the bag to expose something that looked like a jacked up umbrella. He pulled the contraption out of the bag and unfolded it, forming a kite - it looked more like a parachute, but it was a kite.The sail was a vivid, flaming orange with a black outline. He connected the ropes that were still neatly coiled in the first bag to the kite with more carabiners. Then, he waited for a large gust and launched the kite into the air. The breeze caught the kite and started rocketing it upwards. The rope was uncoiling in a blur before the rope was free from the bag and holding taut by the padded handle attached to the steel pole.
The male's light green eyes followed the thick ropes up into the sky to watch the kite dancing in the wind as airstreams changed at whim. His hair was brunette, the natural wave of the locks causing it to hang just below his shoulders. His body was slim but muscular - obviously athletic but not bulky.
With his calling card in the air all he could do now was wait. He went back to his truck and pulled a large white ice chest out of the back, the muscles of his arms and back straining under the weight as he lowered it. He sat on the ice chest and gazed up at the kite. His surf board was still in the bed of his truck. He would get it out in a bit. For now, he waited.
Vivienne slammed the door behind her with the kind of force that made doormen flinch. Her feet moved with that same blind, seething purpose they always did when something in her world cracked too sharply to ignore.
The morning sun kissed every inch of her bronzed skin, and the bikini she wore looked like it had been painted on by an artist with excellent taste and terrible impulse control. Her silk cover-up billowed behind her, half-sheer and half-forgotten, fluttering with the sharp movements of her hips as she stormed barefoot across the sand. This wasn’t a walk. This was a hunt.
Salt air wrapped around her, trying to soothe her, but she wasn’t in the mood to be tamed. Not when the ache in her chest was still raw and the image of Fitzpatrick, bent and bound by the past, played behind her eyes like a cursed lullaby.
She saw it then. A burst of fire in the sky. A defiant streak of orange and black carving through the blue like it had somewhere better to be. It tugged at something in her. Something that hadn’t stirred since…
Her gaze dropped to the man beneath it. Oh.
He was all sun-warmed muscle and casual rebellion, sitting on a cooler like he owned the beach and couldn’t be bothered to pretend otherwise. The wind danced through his hair like it was entitled to, and his eyes held that faraway look she recognized instantly. Dreamers. The dangerous kind.
Vivienne stopped a few feet away, brushing wind-whipped strands from her lips. Her voice, when it came, was low and smooth, like silk dipped in sarcasm. “Tell me that thing isn’t your idea of a mating display.”
She let the silence hang for a moment, then tilted her head. “Because if it is, I hate to admit it’s working.”
She stepped closer, toes sinking into the sand as she looked past him to the soaring kite above. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s not just for fun. You’re waiting for something. Or someone.”
Another step. “Lucky for you, darling…” Her lips curved, though the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m in the mood to be found.”
It had been a very long day of twists, turns, and driving to a place he had never seen before. He hadn’t any idea what the place was, but he had always liked a challenge. He drove to the address he had been texted, but his expression was that of utterly confused as he drove into the town. A…beach town? He blinked as he pulled off the road, and got out of the truck.
Maddox Gage Everette stopped dead in his tracks when his boot hit sand, staring down like the ground had betrayed him. “Well, that ain’t dirt.” He lifted one foot, gave it a shake, then looked out at the wide stretch of ocean like it might offer an explanation. Waves rolled in all casual-like, seagulls wheeled overhead, screeching in a way that made his sharp hearing ring, and the wind ruffled his shirt like a flirty bartender.
A crab scuttled by as he stood there, paused, and looked at him. Maddox looked back, and in slow, quiet amusement, said; “Don’t judge me, partner. I woke up in a Motel 6 with two busted ribs and half a corndog in my hand last year. This ain’t even my top five weirdest mornings.”
He took a few steps forward, boots sinking stubbornly into the sand like they were trying to stage a protest. The spurs jingled just enough to sound offended. Tall, sun-dusted, and very much overdressed for the occasion, Maddox was the picture of misplaced confidence. Worn leather boots, currently being swallowed by sand. Faded jeans that had seen their share of fence posts and saddle horns. A pearl-snap shirt rolled to the elbows, sleeves stiff with trail dust. A belt buckle so shiny it could double as a distress signal. And sitting proud on his head, a black weathered Stetson that looked personally offended by the ocean breeze.
Blue orbs scanned the area once more, and on this pass, Maddox spotted the truck first. It was parked just a little too smugly near the edge of the sand, with a big colorful mess of cords and canvas spilling out of the back like a party he wasn’t invited to. He then saw the person, someone he was almost sure was familiar to him, sitting in it, calm as you please, like this was normal. Like it made perfect sense to be beachside with a kite the size of a small barn door.
Before he could make sense of that picture, movement caught his eye.A woman was striding across the sand like the tide owed her money. Maddox watched as she approached the truck with a sort of elegant menace that suggested this was not her first dramatic entrance. He couldn’t help but watch the interaction, just long enough to confirm what he was watching.
Maddox ambled up, brushing sand off his jeans like it might restore some dignity, and kept that amusement at himself, even as the sound of his spurs clashed with the natural sounds of the beach. He straightened up as he got closer, flashing a grin and tipping his hat back slightly, and with amusement asked; “Well, ain’t this a show? Should I stay out of the way, or is it my turn to make an entrance?”
Maddox Gage Everette stopped dead in his tracks when his boot hit sand, staring down like the ground had betrayed him. “Well, that ain’t dirt.” He lifted one foot, gave it a shake, then looked out at the wide stretch of ocean like it might offer an explanation. Waves rolled in all casual-like, seagulls wheeled overhead, screeching in a way that made his sharp hearing ring, and the wind ruffled his shirt like a flirty bartender.
A crab scuttled by as he stood there, paused, and looked at him. Maddox looked back, and in slow, quiet amusement, said; “Don’t judge me, partner. I woke up in a Motel 6 with two busted ribs and half a corndog in my hand last year. This ain’t even my top five weirdest mornings.”
He took a few steps forward, boots sinking stubbornly into the sand like they were trying to stage a protest. The spurs jingled just enough to sound offended. Tall, sun-dusted, and very much overdressed for the occasion, Maddox was the picture of misplaced confidence. Worn leather boots, currently being swallowed by sand. Faded jeans that had seen their share of fence posts and saddle horns. A pearl-snap shirt rolled to the elbows, sleeves stiff with trail dust. A belt buckle so shiny it could double as a distress signal. And sitting proud on his head, a black weathered Stetson that looked personally offended by the ocean breeze.
Blue orbs scanned the area once more, and on this pass, Maddox spotted the truck first. It was parked just a little too smugly near the edge of the sand, with a big colorful mess of cords and canvas spilling out of the back like a party he wasn’t invited to. He then saw the person, someone he was almost sure was familiar to him, sitting in it, calm as you please, like this was normal. Like it made perfect sense to be beachside with a kite the size of a small barn door.
Before he could make sense of that picture, movement caught his eye.A woman was striding across the sand like the tide owed her money. Maddox watched as she approached the truck with a sort of elegant menace that suggested this was not her first dramatic entrance. He couldn’t help but watch the interaction, just long enough to confirm what he was watching.
Maddox ambled up, brushing sand off his jeans like it might restore some dignity, and kept that amusement at himself, even as the sound of his spurs clashed with the natural sounds of the beach. He straightened up as he got closer, flashing a grin and tipping his hat back slightly, and with amusement asked; “Well, ain’t this a show? Should I stay out of the way, or is it my turn to make an entrance?”
He was facing into the wind, which was a difficult feat at the beach, if you were facing the water you were facing into the wind. Point being, he didn't notice the dazzling beauty walking up on him until she spoke. His eyes were pulled away from the sky and in her direction. He wasn't startled, calm and cool, he stood up from the ice chest and turned to face her.
She made him smile with her little comment about his kite being his mating display. He looked back up at the sky and then back to her, "It is quite eye catching." His voice was rich, deep, and flowed with a tongue that was more attuned to the romance languages but trained to sing in the English dialect. "I wasn't aware that I was fishing, but since you jumped in my boat, I will happily keep the catch." He gestured to the ice chest, "May I interest you in something cold to drink?"
Cassiel was so taken by the company of such a woman he completely missed the entrance of his friend. Maddox's voice traveled over the wind and interrupted his oogling of his female visitor. Cassiel turned, his shoulder rolling back to allow him to twist his torso so he could confirm that really was his friend's voice. He looked, looked away, closed his eyes, shook his head, and looked again. "What the...?" The incomplete question haulted in Cassiel's throat as he looked at his most unlikely of friends.
Cassiel spin and moved to stand next to the vision of beauty he had caught with his kite. "That is what you chose to wear when I told you to 'get ready for some fun in the sun'?" Cassiel, glowing in the rays of the early sun, gave a welcoming laugh and waved his friend in. "How was the drive?"
She made him smile with her little comment about his kite being his mating display. He looked back up at the sky and then back to her, "It is quite eye catching." His voice was rich, deep, and flowed with a tongue that was more attuned to the romance languages but trained to sing in the English dialect. "I wasn't aware that I was fishing, but since you jumped in my boat, I will happily keep the catch." He gestured to the ice chest, "May I interest you in something cold to drink?"
Cassiel was so taken by the company of such a woman he completely missed the entrance of his friend. Maddox's voice traveled over the wind and interrupted his oogling of his female visitor. Cassiel turned, his shoulder rolling back to allow him to twist his torso so he could confirm that really was his friend's voice. He looked, looked away, closed his eyes, shook his head, and looked again. "What the...?" The incomplete question haulted in Cassiel's throat as he looked at his most unlikely of friends.
Cassiel spin and moved to stand next to the vision of beauty he had caught with his kite. "That is what you chose to wear when I told you to 'get ready for some fun in the sun'?" Cassiel, glowing in the rays of the early sun, gave a welcoming laugh and waved his friend in. "How was the drive?"
Vivienne didn’t blink when the second man arrived. Her attention had been squarely on the first, on his voice like warm bourbon and the way his grin seemed to carry the wind. As the sound of spurs hit the sand like punctuation marks, she turned slightly, just enough to let both men into her frame.
Her expression didn’t shift much. She’d perfected the art of looking unimpressed, even when she very much was.
One brow arched as her gaze swept over Maddox, dust and denim and that stubborn cowboy energy that always acted like it was above the drama while standing right in the middle of it. Her lips parted, then curved slowly.
“Well,” she said dryly, “if this is your entrance, I’m already expecting a monologue and a horse named Silver.”
She pivoted toward Cassiel, one hand resting on her hip, hip tilted just enough to suggest curiosity wrapped in challenge. “You didn’t tell me it was a party,” she said, eyes still on Maddox but her tone directed toward Cassiel. “Should I be flattered I was the first to arrive, or annoyed you didn’t mention a dress code?”
Then, with a languid turn, she faced Maddox more fully. “You must be the comic relief. Or the trouble.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Possibly both.”
She stepped closer to Cassiel again, hand reaching to brush an invisible thread from his shoulder. “I’ll take that drink,” she said, voice softer now, just for him. “But only if you promise I won’t regret it.”
Then, over her shoulder to Maddox, like a warning and a wink all at once, “You can stay, cowboy. Just try not to get sand on my champagne.”
Her expression didn’t shift much. She’d perfected the art of looking unimpressed, even when she very much was.
One brow arched as her gaze swept over Maddox, dust and denim and that stubborn cowboy energy that always acted like it was above the drama while standing right in the middle of it. Her lips parted, then curved slowly.
“Well,” she said dryly, “if this is your entrance, I’m already expecting a monologue and a horse named Silver.”
She pivoted toward Cassiel, one hand resting on her hip, hip tilted just enough to suggest curiosity wrapped in challenge. “You didn’t tell me it was a party,” she said, eyes still on Maddox but her tone directed toward Cassiel. “Should I be flattered I was the first to arrive, or annoyed you didn’t mention a dress code?”
Then, with a languid turn, she faced Maddox more fully. “You must be the comic relief. Or the trouble.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Possibly both.”
She stepped closer to Cassiel again, hand reaching to brush an invisible thread from his shoulder. “I’ll take that drink,” she said, voice softer now, just for him. “But only if you promise I won’t regret it.”
Then, over her shoulder to Maddox, like a warning and a wink all at once, “You can stay, cowboy. Just try not to get sand on my champagne.”
Maddox stood out like a stubborn, Southern dream. Black cowboy hat tilted just right, boots half-buried in the sand, and a pair of jeans that had no business being that close to the ocean. The breeze teased at his shirt, ruffling it like it was trying to dress him properly for the setting. He slowly took in the view, the sunlight skipping across the waves, a damn near mythical woman by Cassiel’s side, and his friend looking like he’d just been caught sinning with his eyes. Knowing Cassiel, that was likely the truth.
A wicked but slow grin spread across Maddox’s face at Cassiel’s question. “Y’know, Cass,” He called out, voice rolling over the wind like warm molasses, “When a man says ‘get ready for fun in the sun,’ I usually take that to mean barbecue, beer, and maybe a frisbee I’ll even pretend to know how to throw. Not you lookin’ like you wandered into a cologne ad, standin’ next to a woman that could stop time just by smilin’. But then, I reckon I shoulda known better.”
He shook his head, stepping closer to the pair of them. Every step left a print that looked like it didn’t belong on a beach but at the end of a long cattle trail. Maddox rolled his shoulders when asked about the drive. “Long enough I started talkin’ to my truck like she was the only woman who ever understood me,” He said with a lopsided grin. “Me, her, a busted air freshener, and a playlist that went from outlaw country to angsty pop without warnin’. Somewhere ‘round Arizona I hit a spiritual low point and sang Adele at full volume.” He adjusted his belt, as if that somehow fixed the memory, and laughed at himself. “But I made it, and I’m glad to be here.”
Maddox’s gaze drifted to the woman beside Cassiel, and that familiar, laid-back smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, plain good manners and a hint of cowboy ease. The kind of smile that came from years of front porch greetings and waving at strangers just in case they turned out to be friends “Well now,” He said with a nod, his voice like warm sun through worn denim, “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Hope I’m not trackin’ in the dust.” He tipped his hat respectfully in her direction.
“Name’s Maddox. Maddox Everette. Rolled in all the way from Texas, and I’ll tell ya, these boots are holdin’ on through sheer will and bad decisions.” He chuckled, glancing between them. Maddox tipped his hat with a grin that sat easy on his face, and listened when she spoke to him. “Well, ma’am, I can’t promise nothin’ about the sand, but I’m sorry to say Silver’s with the doc.” He stepped back just a touch, hands casually hooked on his belt. “And trouble? That’s usually Cass’s department. I’m just here for the sun… and now apparently the show.”
A wicked but slow grin spread across Maddox’s face at Cassiel’s question. “Y’know, Cass,” He called out, voice rolling over the wind like warm molasses, “When a man says ‘get ready for fun in the sun,’ I usually take that to mean barbecue, beer, and maybe a frisbee I’ll even pretend to know how to throw. Not you lookin’ like you wandered into a cologne ad, standin’ next to a woman that could stop time just by smilin’. But then, I reckon I shoulda known better.”
He shook his head, stepping closer to the pair of them. Every step left a print that looked like it didn’t belong on a beach but at the end of a long cattle trail. Maddox rolled his shoulders when asked about the drive. “Long enough I started talkin’ to my truck like she was the only woman who ever understood me,” He said with a lopsided grin. “Me, her, a busted air freshener, and a playlist that went from outlaw country to angsty pop without warnin’. Somewhere ‘round Arizona I hit a spiritual low point and sang Adele at full volume.” He adjusted his belt, as if that somehow fixed the memory, and laughed at himself. “But I made it, and I’m glad to be here.”
Maddox’s gaze drifted to the woman beside Cassiel, and that familiar, laid-back smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, plain good manners and a hint of cowboy ease. The kind of smile that came from years of front porch greetings and waving at strangers just in case they turned out to be friends “Well now,” He said with a nod, his voice like warm sun through worn denim, “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Hope I’m not trackin’ in the dust.” He tipped his hat respectfully in her direction.
“Name’s Maddox. Maddox Everette. Rolled in all the way from Texas, and I’ll tell ya, these boots are holdin’ on through sheer will and bad decisions.” He chuckled, glancing between them. Maddox tipped his hat with a grin that sat easy on his face, and listened when she spoke to him. “Well, ma’am, I can’t promise nothin’ about the sand, but I’m sorry to say Silver’s with the doc.” He stepped back just a touch, hands casually hooked on his belt. “And trouble? That’s usually Cass’s department. I’m just here for the sun… and now apparently the show.”
She was intoxicating, exactly his type and feisty to boot. He wanted to give him attention to his friend, but it was difficult when the pull of something stronger than gravity kept pulling his attention to the woman at his side. She had a tongue like a whip, and she wasn’t afraid to crack it. Smitten wouldn’t be the right word, but it was close enough.
Then Maddox said the one word that Cassiel could not ignore. He practically prairie dogged at the mention of the children’s game he knew he could turn into a full contact sport. "Frisbree?!” Cassiel’s eyes flared with amber for a moment as his impulsive side stepped forward. "I got your beer, cowboy. Barbecue can follow. You get me a frisbee and get out of those shit kicker clothes, and we can have some fun.” The challenge was being offered and Cassiel knew Maddox would want to play.
The amber faded back into the light green as Cassiel looked over at the woman next to him. He wasn’t sure if the eye color change would be noticed by her yet. If she spent any amount of time with him, it would be something she would start to recognize about him. When the eyes went amber, the darkness was stepping forward and he was going to react in some odd way. He chuckled softly to the woman, "I think we would look perfect together in a cologne ad.” He offered her a wink before leaning down and opening the ice chest. He pulled out a can of Maddox’s signature beer and tossed it at the man. "Cool off a little before you go change into something…else.” He dipped back into the ice chest and pulled out a small bottle of chardonnay. "It’s not champagne, but I hope it will satisfy you.” He leaned in close, his lips a breath from her ear, "I can’t promise anything but a good time you will never forget.”
Cassiel grabbed himself a Captain Morgan’s Parrot Bay cooler. The one he grabbed was Pineapple Colada, but there was also Sunset Surf (pineapple and orange) and a Wave Runner (passion fruit and mango) all spiced with Parrot Bay coconut run – a slow way to get completely wasted.
He twisted the cap off his bottle and held it up between the trio. "To fun and friends.” He was ready to start the party.
Then Maddox said the one word that Cassiel could not ignore. He practically prairie dogged at the mention of the children’s game he knew he could turn into a full contact sport. "Frisbree?!” Cassiel’s eyes flared with amber for a moment as his impulsive side stepped forward. "I got your beer, cowboy. Barbecue can follow. You get me a frisbee and get out of those shit kicker clothes, and we can have some fun.” The challenge was being offered and Cassiel knew Maddox would want to play.
The amber faded back into the light green as Cassiel looked over at the woman next to him. He wasn’t sure if the eye color change would be noticed by her yet. If she spent any amount of time with him, it would be something she would start to recognize about him. When the eyes went amber, the darkness was stepping forward and he was going to react in some odd way. He chuckled softly to the woman, "I think we would look perfect together in a cologne ad.” He offered her a wink before leaning down and opening the ice chest. He pulled out a can of Maddox’s signature beer and tossed it at the man. "Cool off a little before you go change into something…else.” He dipped back into the ice chest and pulled out a small bottle of chardonnay. "It’s not champagne, but I hope it will satisfy you.” He leaned in close, his lips a breath from her ear, "I can’t promise anything but a good time you will never forget.”
Cassiel grabbed himself a Captain Morgan’s Parrot Bay cooler. The one he grabbed was Pineapple Colada, but there was also Sunset Surf (pineapple and orange) and a Wave Runner (passion fruit and mango) all spiced with Parrot Bay coconut run – a slow way to get completely wasted.
He twisted the cap off his bottle and held it up between the trio. "To fun and friends.” He was ready to start the party.
Creed wasn't a talkative person and usually minded his own damn business. Until very recently, he was just floating around and trying to find answers about his family. He had just found the information he had desperately been searching for when he felt it. His sister's pain through their familar bond followed by the tether to them fading slowly. He knew something bad happened and couldn't exactly get a hold of her by phone, so he rushed back to Sunset.
He was beyond angry, almost murderous to the point his sister was trying to calm him down after finding out what happened. He left in a fury the previous night before when he got the message that his sister was staying with the fucker that broke her. He usually didn't care who she was with, or what she did, but when he saw her in the state she had been in for five days. He snapped. Although, he had never met this so-called mate, he already disliked him from what Fitzpatrick did. So, he grabbed a few bottles of whiskey from The Grog Shop and left a note for Jasper, then headed to the beach. He was already in a pair of board shorts, a white t-shirt, and a pair of slip on tennis shoes.
He sat on the beach for a while drinking one of the bottles of whiskey. Trying to calm himself down before he went on a rampage. He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes as he walked towards the water. He dove in once he waded deep enough and stayed under for a while just to block out what he truly wanted to do. He was still angry when he surfaced, though he realized nothing could pacify him now at the moment. He swam back to shore soon enough and rose from the water. Once he was out off the water, he pushed back his damp hair from his face but let the droplets of water run down his tattooed, muscle riddled body. He figured he would just air dry since he didn't exactly come to the beach prepared.
He surveyed the area around him on the beach and noticed there was a trio nearby with a huge kite in the sky. He saw some chick in a bikini, and a skateboarder looking guy, followed by what looked to be a cowboy on the beach. When did the rodeo come to town? He thought as shook his head, slightly amused though he didn't really care. He wasn't in the mood to make acquaintances with anyone, so he trudged towards where he left the second bottle of whiskey. Just as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey, he noticed out of the corner of his eye something lime green half buried in the sand. He leaned over and picked it up and saw that it was a Frisbee. With the anger built inside him, he just launched the disc with such force he wasn't really paying attention to where it went. He didn't really care until he saw it head towards the trio nearby and directly at the long-haired dude. "Shit!" He mumbled to himself as he chased after the damn thing before it hit someone.
"Man, I'm so fucking sorry. That was not intentional. I apologize." He was too late when he got there and just apologized. His gun metal grey eyes looked between the two men and woman before he looked at the man he actually hit with the damn Frisbee. "I swear that was unintentional." He said apologetically. He stuck out his hand to offer a friendly handshake and realized he still had the bottle of whiskey in his hand. He switched hands and introduced himself, "Name is Creed." His expression remained neutral as he waited to see if he pissed any of them off, though it was the least of his worries.
He was beyond angry, almost murderous to the point his sister was trying to calm him down after finding out what happened. He left in a fury the previous night before when he got the message that his sister was staying with the fucker that broke her. He usually didn't care who she was with, or what she did, but when he saw her in the state she had been in for five days. He snapped. Although, he had never met this so-called mate, he already disliked him from what Fitzpatrick did. So, he grabbed a few bottles of whiskey from The Grog Shop and left a note for Jasper, then headed to the beach. He was already in a pair of board shorts, a white t-shirt, and a pair of slip on tennis shoes.
He sat on the beach for a while drinking one of the bottles of whiskey. Trying to calm himself down before he went on a rampage. He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes as he walked towards the water. He dove in once he waded deep enough and stayed under for a while just to block out what he truly wanted to do. He was still angry when he surfaced, though he realized nothing could pacify him now at the moment. He swam back to shore soon enough and rose from the water. Once he was out off the water, he pushed back his damp hair from his face but let the droplets of water run down his tattooed, muscle riddled body. He figured he would just air dry since he didn't exactly come to the beach prepared.
He surveyed the area around him on the beach and noticed there was a trio nearby with a huge kite in the sky. He saw some chick in a bikini, and a skateboarder looking guy, followed by what looked to be a cowboy on the beach. When did the rodeo come to town? He thought as shook his head, slightly amused though he didn't really care. He wasn't in the mood to make acquaintances with anyone, so he trudged towards where he left the second bottle of whiskey. Just as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey, he noticed out of the corner of his eye something lime green half buried in the sand. He leaned over and picked it up and saw that it was a Frisbee. With the anger built inside him, he just launched the disc with such force he wasn't really paying attention to where it went. He didn't really care until he saw it head towards the trio nearby and directly at the long-haired dude. "Shit!" He mumbled to himself as he chased after the damn thing before it hit someone.
"Man, I'm so fucking sorry. That was not intentional. I apologize." He was too late when he got there and just apologized. His gun metal grey eyes looked between the two men and woman before he looked at the man he actually hit with the damn Frisbee. "I swear that was unintentional." He said apologetically. He stuck out his hand to offer a friendly handshake and realized he still had the bottle of whiskey in his hand. He switched hands and introduced himself, "Name is Creed." His expression remained neutral as he waited to see if he pissed any of them off, though it was the least of his worries.
Amicia didn’t come for the beach, but here she was.
Vivienne had called, and Amicia, ever loyal to the sister, and the family she had chosen, had come. The air was thick with salt and sunlight as she walked the beach, and the sound of the ocean echoed like a distant murmur beneath the laughter and voices of those gathered below. She had stopped at the apartment first, switching heels for slip on shoes when she recognized the terrain, and her suit jacket for a bikini. Her long dark hair was tied up, and her cold brown eyes moved along the edge of the sands.
She stood at the edge as she spotted her, watching as Vivienne, her movements easy and unburdened, seemed to be enjoying herself. The other two people with her were unknowns—boys, maybe? They were certainly easy on the eyes, but beyond that, they were little more than a mystery.
The taller one, broad, grounded, and entirely too cheerful for Amicia’s taste, seemed to be laughing at something, all grins and charm. The other, a darker figure, leaned back, close to Vivi with an almost unsettling stillness. His gaze was far off, lost in thought or memory, until, unexpectedly, and taking Amicia a little by surprise, a frisbee hit him in the head, by the third man who soon joined.
Amicia blinked slowly, unsure if she had truly seen what she thought she had. The disk bounced off his skull with an audible thud, leaving him looking slightly stunned, as though even gravity had betrayed him. Her lips twitched at the action for only a fraction of a smile. She’d never quite understood why people felt the need to enjoy themselves in such an unguarded way. Amicia had never fully come to understand the meaning of the word ‘fun’, and it was one of the very few things she argued with Vivi about.
With a quiet sigh, Amicia made her way down toward them, eyes scanning the group with the same cool detachment. Whatever this scene was, she was about to be a part of it, whether she wanted to or not. On the thought of it, Amicia approached just as another man did, presumably the one who had thrown the disc. She scanned each of them, but it was Vivi her eyes landed on first. She knew that instant Vivi became aware of her, shared a look with her and looked at the group in large. “I didn’t know what I was expecting when you called, but a frisbee to the skull does certainly make an impression.”
Vivienne had called, and Amicia, ever loyal to the sister, and the family she had chosen, had come. The air was thick with salt and sunlight as she walked the beach, and the sound of the ocean echoed like a distant murmur beneath the laughter and voices of those gathered below. She had stopped at the apartment first, switching heels for slip on shoes when she recognized the terrain, and her suit jacket for a bikini. Her long dark hair was tied up, and her cold brown eyes moved along the edge of the sands.
She stood at the edge as she spotted her, watching as Vivienne, her movements easy and unburdened, seemed to be enjoying herself. The other two people with her were unknowns—boys, maybe? They were certainly easy on the eyes, but beyond that, they were little more than a mystery.
The taller one, broad, grounded, and entirely too cheerful for Amicia’s taste, seemed to be laughing at something, all grins and charm. The other, a darker figure, leaned back, close to Vivi with an almost unsettling stillness. His gaze was far off, lost in thought or memory, until, unexpectedly, and taking Amicia a little by surprise, a frisbee hit him in the head, by the third man who soon joined.
Amicia blinked slowly, unsure if she had truly seen what she thought she had. The disk bounced off his skull with an audible thud, leaving him looking slightly stunned, as though even gravity had betrayed him. Her lips twitched at the action for only a fraction of a smile. She’d never quite understood why people felt the need to enjoy themselves in such an unguarded way. Amicia had never fully come to understand the meaning of the word ‘fun’, and it was one of the very few things she argued with Vivi about.
With a quiet sigh, Amicia made her way down toward them, eyes scanning the group with the same cool detachment. Whatever this scene was, she was about to be a part of it, whether she wanted to or not. On the thought of it, Amicia approached just as another man did, presumably the one who had thrown the disc. She scanned each of them, but it was Vivi her eyes landed on first. She knew that instant Vivi became aware of her, shared a look with her and looked at the group in large. “I didn’t know what I was expecting when you called, but a frisbee to the skull does certainly make an impression.”
Vivienne took the bottle from Cassiel with a half-smile. She didn’t thank him or sip it yet. Not while the air was shifting. The moment she heard that familiar voice, dry as good gin and twice as cutting, her head turned. Amicia. Her Cece had arrived.
Vivienne’s gaze locked with hers across the sand, and for one taut second, the entire chaotic beach scene seemed to hush around them. She tilted her chin, lips curving into something feline and unapologetic. “Darling,” she purred. “You made it.”
Then—thwack.
The frisbee smacked Cassiel so squarely in the head that Vivienne actually laughed. A real laugh, too, sharp, startled, and entirely delighted. It caught her off guard as much as anyone else, and she pressed a hand to her chest, the bottle dangling forgotten from the other.
“Oh gods,” she breathed, still grinning. “That was art. Pure, idiotic art.”
She turned just as the guilty party came striding up, all muscle and damp rage wrapped in wet cotton and regret. Her eyes raked over him, assessing. Not in the flirtatious way she’d regarded Cassiel or Maddox, but like a cat measuring a dog for distance. “Creed, was it?” she asked, taking the hand he offered with a cool flick of her fingers, just barely letting their skin touch. “I’m Vivienne. That,” she said, gesturing lightly toward Cassiel, “was a limited-edition skull. Do be careful where you fling your anger next time.”
She stepped back slightly and passed the bottle of whiskey from Creed to Maddox with a wink. “For medical purposes. Or chaos. Whichever suits.”
Then, as if nothing at all had happened, she gestured broadly at the scene, kite still dancing in the air, men circling, sand scattered, Amicia looming like a high-end blade on the wind.
“This,” she said dryly, “was supposed to be my quiet spiral into bad decisions and maybe light sin. Instead, I appear to have crash-landed into an unscheduled episode of Boys, Beach, and Bruised Egos.”
She took a long sip from her bottle at last, savoring it like a curse she meant to enjoy. “Ah well. When the universe sends you shirtless interruptions and perfectly-timed assassins, you lean in.” She looked toward Amicia with a smirk. “I told you to bring champagne. Next time, bring a damn helmet.”
Vivienne’s gaze locked with hers across the sand, and for one taut second, the entire chaotic beach scene seemed to hush around them. She tilted her chin, lips curving into something feline and unapologetic. “Darling,” she purred. “You made it.”
Then—thwack.
The frisbee smacked Cassiel so squarely in the head that Vivienne actually laughed. A real laugh, too, sharp, startled, and entirely delighted. It caught her off guard as much as anyone else, and she pressed a hand to her chest, the bottle dangling forgotten from the other.
“Oh gods,” she breathed, still grinning. “That was art. Pure, idiotic art.”
She turned just as the guilty party came striding up, all muscle and damp rage wrapped in wet cotton and regret. Her eyes raked over him, assessing. Not in the flirtatious way she’d regarded Cassiel or Maddox, but like a cat measuring a dog for distance. “Creed, was it?” she asked, taking the hand he offered with a cool flick of her fingers, just barely letting their skin touch. “I’m Vivienne. That,” she said, gesturing lightly toward Cassiel, “was a limited-edition skull. Do be careful where you fling your anger next time.”
She stepped back slightly and passed the bottle of whiskey from Creed to Maddox with a wink. “For medical purposes. Or chaos. Whichever suits.”
Then, as if nothing at all had happened, she gestured broadly at the scene, kite still dancing in the air, men circling, sand scattered, Amicia looming like a high-end blade on the wind.
“This,” she said dryly, “was supposed to be my quiet spiral into bad decisions and maybe light sin. Instead, I appear to have crash-landed into an unscheduled episode of Boys, Beach, and Bruised Egos.”
She took a long sip from her bottle at last, savoring it like a curse she meant to enjoy. “Ah well. When the universe sends you shirtless interruptions and perfectly-timed assassins, you lean in.” She looked toward Amicia with a smirk. “I told you to bring champagne. Next time, bring a damn helmet.”
A blue Harley Davidson roared as it pulled up to park nearby what looked some space to park some vehicles. The paint on it was black with striking blue flames on it. The rider upon it relaxed as they sat back just as the engine was abruptly cut off. A dark blue helmet completely masked the wearer, as they wore black attire and boots. Based on their form, the rider was male, and it became more obvious once the stand was kicked downward, and he leaned over to the left to dismount with ease. A few clicks and the helmet came off to reveal a man who looked to be around his thirties. Dark brown roots lightened into an almost reddish strawberry blonde toward the ends. As tanned skin showed, he turned to look over in the direction of the beach as he looked forward to the feel of the ocean's water. Stunning blue eyes landed on the...party? Ben looked briefly toward the buildings nearby then back toward those gathered nearby.
He'd missed the whole frisbee theatrics as he turned back toward his motorcycle and opened up the back to place his helmet in. The black leather jacket was shed to reveal a dark blue tee-shirt. This, too, was taken off. His sculpted torso was revealed then as he made quick work of the removal of the black belt, boots, black jean pants and socks. What was left? Nice, comfortable trunks that were made to be swam in! These were lighter blue with white patterns. His gear was stored into the motorcycle, locked and he turned to head for the water. A cocky smile played about his lips as the six foot, four inches tall man walked somewhat into the party's direction. Though it would be clear he intended to pass them by and head straight to the water ahead. But not before he had this irresistible urge to stir up trouble! His eyes noticed a frisbee and swiftly, he snatched it up and held onto it before he began to walk backwards for a moment.
"Good morning, ladies!" Then he turned back around and began to jog toward the water. By 'ladies' he meant them all not just the women present! As for the frisbee he waited til he got into the water before he drew a nice volleyball-size lump to form. With magic, it was weaved almost into the plastic before it evened out into the shape of a disc. His eyes casually flicked over to the group and he patiently waited until none paid him any attention before... With a mischievous smirk, the frisbee was tossed hard as it flew toward them. But as it did, a thin trail of water strung behind it as he waited until it was within range before he cut off the magical connection. The water that otherwise clung to the frisbee burst out into all directions to land on anyone unfortune enough to be within the path of it. If anyone got hit with the water, he laughed heartily before a flirtatious wink was given and the man sank into the water to go out further.
He'd missed the whole frisbee theatrics as he turned back toward his motorcycle and opened up the back to place his helmet in. The black leather jacket was shed to reveal a dark blue tee-shirt. This, too, was taken off. His sculpted torso was revealed then as he made quick work of the removal of the black belt, boots, black jean pants and socks. What was left? Nice, comfortable trunks that were made to be swam in! These were lighter blue with white patterns. His gear was stored into the motorcycle, locked and he turned to head for the water. A cocky smile played about his lips as the six foot, four inches tall man walked somewhat into the party's direction. Though it would be clear he intended to pass them by and head straight to the water ahead. But not before he had this irresistible urge to stir up trouble! His eyes noticed a frisbee and swiftly, he snatched it up and held onto it before he began to walk backwards for a moment.
"Good morning, ladies!" Then he turned back around and began to jog toward the water. By 'ladies' he meant them all not just the women present! As for the frisbee he waited til he got into the water before he drew a nice volleyball-size lump to form. With magic, it was weaved almost into the plastic before it evened out into the shape of a disc. His eyes casually flicked over to the group and he patiently waited until none paid him any attention before... With a mischievous smirk, the frisbee was tossed hard as it flew toward them. But as it did, a thin trail of water strung behind it as he waited until it was within range before he cut off the magical connection. The water that otherwise clung to the frisbee burst out into all directions to land on anyone unfortune enough to be within the path of it. If anyone got hit with the water, he laughed heartily before a flirtatious wink was given and the man sank into the water to go out further.
Maddox, although simple-natured, wasn’t simple-minded. He had a knack for reading people the way most read newspapers. Quick, clean, and always with a little grin in the corner of his mouth. So when his buddy’s eyes locked onto the woman beside him, Maddox was already taking mental bets on how long it’d be before he was sleeping in the back of his own truck because Cassiel’s house was otherwise… occupied.
When Cass did turn to him, hand him a beer, and issued a challenge, Maddox accepted it with a smile that was carved deep with easiness, warmth and playfulness. “You got yourself a deal, daredevil.” He cracked the beer open with a hiss, letting the chill as he drank roll through his ribs like a river current as he leaned back to watch whatever spark was starting. Maddox wasn’t one for casual flings, but that didn’t mean he judged ’em. He just liked watching connection. That bloom of something real, even if it burned out fast.
Of course, as natural with Cassiel around, the peace didn’t last. Just as he agreed to ditch the boots and belt buckle for something more beach-worthy, he spotted it, soaring through the air. Something moving. Fast. Headed straight for Cass’ skull. “Uh… Cass? Hey, Cass—” His warning went unheard. So Maddox did what any sane, rational man would do in a crisis. He quacked. Twice. Loudly.
Now, Maddox had spent so much time in the wild, he could mimic birds like he’d been raised by a flock. So when he quacked, it wasn’t just a noise. It was a perfect, full-throated, honest-to-God duck call. Despite Maddox’s best efforts, this did not help. Even a little.
A heartbeat later, there was a thud that made Maddox wince. His eyes trailed down to the scene of the crime. Frisbee. Of course. He shouldn’t have even been surprised. “You are the literal definition of ‘ask and ye shall receive,’ ain’t ya?” He chuckled, the deep laugh rolling out of his chest like thunder over the plains.
As two folks came strolling over, Maddox straightened up just a touch, that easy smile still in place. The guy looked guilty, and Maddox respected the quick apology. Anyone who could own a mistake got points in his book. When the woman, Vivienne then handed him a bottle, he tipped his hat with an exaggerated, appreciative tilt.“Why, thank you, little lady.” His tone was all charm and gentle tease, honeyed with a smile that could melt fence wire.
He shook Creed’s hand with a firm grip and a nod when the man turned towards him. His greeting was honest, and as natural as if he said the same to every living creature he came across. And that was because he did.“Maddox. Pleasure’s mine.”
Before he could say more, a black-haired girl in a bikini sauntered up, clearly not lookin’ to talk to anyone but her own. Still, Maddox gave her the courtesy of a hat tip. He was raised right, after all, and was about to try and make conversation that included all of them. But then chaos struck again. Before Maddox had a chance to speak, some guy came tearing across the beach and snatched the same frisbee that just turned Cass into a target dummy. Maddox was about to make a smart remark, until only moments later, the frisbee came flying back at near missile speed. And once again, since nobody was paying attention, … he quacked. Loud.
The water followed the disc like it had a vendetta. It splashed across him, catching his hat, his chest, and a good chunk of dignity. Maddox gave a low whistle and shoved the hat back with a grin. “Well now,” He drawled, flicking water off his sleeve, “Ain’t even had my coffee yet and I’ve already been baptized.”
His blue eyes scanned the beach, twinkling with mischief.“Showoff’s got a hell of an arm, I’ll give him that. Might have to keep an eye on that one before he turns the whole beach into a splash zone.” As he started unbuttoning the shirt to take it off, he nodded toward the surf with a crooked smirk. “Next time, I think a cowboy deserves a warnin’ before y’all go tryin’ to wash the trail dust off him.” But these words were said through chuckles, and the sound of the thunk against Cassiel’s head that echoed in his brain caused Maddox to erupt in deep, rich, laughter.
When Cass did turn to him, hand him a beer, and issued a challenge, Maddox accepted it with a smile that was carved deep with easiness, warmth and playfulness. “You got yourself a deal, daredevil.” He cracked the beer open with a hiss, letting the chill as he drank roll through his ribs like a river current as he leaned back to watch whatever spark was starting. Maddox wasn’t one for casual flings, but that didn’t mean he judged ’em. He just liked watching connection. That bloom of something real, even if it burned out fast.
Of course, as natural with Cassiel around, the peace didn’t last. Just as he agreed to ditch the boots and belt buckle for something more beach-worthy, he spotted it, soaring through the air. Something moving. Fast. Headed straight for Cass’ skull. “Uh… Cass? Hey, Cass—” His warning went unheard. So Maddox did what any sane, rational man would do in a crisis. He quacked. Twice. Loudly.
Now, Maddox had spent so much time in the wild, he could mimic birds like he’d been raised by a flock. So when he quacked, it wasn’t just a noise. It was a perfect, full-throated, honest-to-God duck call. Despite Maddox’s best efforts, this did not help. Even a little.
A heartbeat later, there was a thud that made Maddox wince. His eyes trailed down to the scene of the crime. Frisbee. Of course. He shouldn’t have even been surprised. “You are the literal definition of ‘ask and ye shall receive,’ ain’t ya?” He chuckled, the deep laugh rolling out of his chest like thunder over the plains.
As two folks came strolling over, Maddox straightened up just a touch, that easy smile still in place. The guy looked guilty, and Maddox respected the quick apology. Anyone who could own a mistake got points in his book. When the woman, Vivienne then handed him a bottle, he tipped his hat with an exaggerated, appreciative tilt.“Why, thank you, little lady.” His tone was all charm and gentle tease, honeyed with a smile that could melt fence wire.
He shook Creed’s hand with a firm grip and a nod when the man turned towards him. His greeting was honest, and as natural as if he said the same to every living creature he came across. And that was because he did.“Maddox. Pleasure’s mine.”
Before he could say more, a black-haired girl in a bikini sauntered up, clearly not lookin’ to talk to anyone but her own. Still, Maddox gave her the courtesy of a hat tip. He was raised right, after all, and was about to try and make conversation that included all of them. But then chaos struck again. Before Maddox had a chance to speak, some guy came tearing across the beach and snatched the same frisbee that just turned Cass into a target dummy. Maddox was about to make a smart remark, until only moments later, the frisbee came flying back at near missile speed. And once again, since nobody was paying attention, … he quacked. Loud.
The water followed the disc like it had a vendetta. It splashed across him, catching his hat, his chest, and a good chunk of dignity. Maddox gave a low whistle and shoved the hat back with a grin. “Well now,” He drawled, flicking water off his sleeve, “Ain’t even had my coffee yet and I’ve already been baptized.”
His blue eyes scanned the beach, twinkling with mischief.“Showoff’s got a hell of an arm, I’ll give him that. Might have to keep an eye on that one before he turns the whole beach into a splash zone.” As he started unbuttoning the shirt to take it off, he nodded toward the surf with a crooked smirk. “Next time, I think a cowboy deserves a warnin’ before y’all go tryin’ to wash the trail dust off him.” But these words were said through chuckles, and the sound of the thunk against Cassiel’s head that echoed in his brain caused Maddox to erupt in deep, rich, laughter.
He was poised to have a good time. His best friend had arrived, his kite had caught the attention of an impossibly hot woman who seemed to be willing to flirt back, and they had cool drinks to loosen them all up for some fun. He hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings, why would he? They were just hanging out and chatting when Maddox, for some ungodly reason, decided to start showing off his talents at mimicking ducks. Cassiel looked away from the ice chest he had just closed and was about to ask what he was up to when something collided with his head - hard. Hard enough it stunned him for half a second before his body reacted.
One of his legs lifted off the sand, his knee nearly tucking against his abdomen as his torso hunched and his head ducked. His body moved reactively as the flying disc had already hit its mark and left a throbbing spot on his noggin. The hand not holding his drink, went up to touch the injured spot as his leg lowered. "Che cazzo era quello?" He was so stunned he had completely forgot to speak English and his natural dialect burst from him.
His fingers moved through the long, wavy locks of his hair until he was touching his scalp where the impact had occurred. He pulled his hand away from his head and checked his fingers - no blood. His thick hair had protected the skin from receiving an abrasion and the pain from the impact was already fading.
With the shock wearing off he noticed instantly that his two companions were both laughing insanely hard at his misfortune. They were laughing so hard it was infectious and he started laughing right along with them. Until the culprit, who had thrown the disc arrived with apologies. "No blood, no foul. It's all good." The darkness in him rippled around the edges but Cassiel soothed it. "Creed, huh? I'm Cassiel. Cass for short." He didn't get to shake the man's hand as the woman he was flirting with took the guy's hand first. But he was grateful he now knew he name, Vivienne. She seemed to have been standing up for him, a little, and Cassiel grinned and took a long drink of his cooler.
They were then joined by a dark haired woman who seemed to have caught the frisbee incident and was directly tied to Vivienne. Cassiel waved politely to the new woman, "Cassiel. Help yourself to anything in the cooler." He glanced over to Creed, "You too. Whatever's in there, I'll share."
Maddox called his attention to the disc that had smacked him in the head that was lying in the sand next to him and he grinned. "The world works in mysterious ways," he said smiling. He was about to pick it up when some dude, out of nowhere, whooshed by and snatched it up before splashing out into the water. Cassiel, startled at the sudden appearance, moved closer to Vivienne. "I seem to be a target today for some reason."
He was disappointed they had lost the disc but he wanted to get to know everyone in the circle. He turned his attention away from the waves and was just focused on their small gathering. This time when Maddox started quacking, Cass snapped his head around to see the flying danger. He quickly stepped in front of Vivienne and her friend, taking the spray of the water and another thump of the disc. Instead of it hitting him in the head, it zinged across his back, which stung a lot more.
"Qual è il problema? Perché ce l'hai tirato addosso di proposito quando vedevi che non stavamo guardando?" His eyes were no longer the light green but solid amber as he looked out at the man who had disappeared under the waves. Cassiel was irritated but collected himself enough to check on Maddox and Creed, the two he had not shielded.
One of his legs lifted off the sand, his knee nearly tucking against his abdomen as his torso hunched and his head ducked. His body moved reactively as the flying disc had already hit its mark and left a throbbing spot on his noggin. The hand not holding his drink, went up to touch the injured spot as his leg lowered. "Che cazzo era quello?" He was so stunned he had completely forgot to speak English and his natural dialect burst from him.
His fingers moved through the long, wavy locks of his hair until he was touching his scalp where the impact had occurred. He pulled his hand away from his head and checked his fingers - no blood. His thick hair had protected the skin from receiving an abrasion and the pain from the impact was already fading.
With the shock wearing off he noticed instantly that his two companions were both laughing insanely hard at his misfortune. They were laughing so hard it was infectious and he started laughing right along with them. Until the culprit, who had thrown the disc arrived with apologies. "No blood, no foul. It's all good." The darkness in him rippled around the edges but Cassiel soothed it. "Creed, huh? I'm Cassiel. Cass for short." He didn't get to shake the man's hand as the woman he was flirting with took the guy's hand first. But he was grateful he now knew he name, Vivienne. She seemed to have been standing up for him, a little, and Cassiel grinned and took a long drink of his cooler.
They were then joined by a dark haired woman who seemed to have caught the frisbee incident and was directly tied to Vivienne. Cassiel waved politely to the new woman, "Cassiel. Help yourself to anything in the cooler." He glanced over to Creed, "You too. Whatever's in there, I'll share."
Maddox called his attention to the disc that had smacked him in the head that was lying in the sand next to him and he grinned. "The world works in mysterious ways," he said smiling. He was about to pick it up when some dude, out of nowhere, whooshed by and snatched it up before splashing out into the water. Cassiel, startled at the sudden appearance, moved closer to Vivienne. "I seem to be a target today for some reason."
He was disappointed they had lost the disc but he wanted to get to know everyone in the circle. He turned his attention away from the waves and was just focused on their small gathering. This time when Maddox started quacking, Cass snapped his head around to see the flying danger. He quickly stepped in front of Vivienne and her friend, taking the spray of the water and another thump of the disc. Instead of it hitting him in the head, it zinged across his back, which stung a lot more.
"Qual è il problema? Perché ce l'hai tirato addosso di proposito quando vedevi che non stavamo guardando?" His eyes were no longer the light green but solid amber as he looked out at the man who had disappeared under the waves. Cassiel was irritated but collected himself enough to check on Maddox and Creed, the two he had not shielded.
As Cassiel introduced himself to Creed, the woman, Vivienne, stepped up and stuck out her hand. When she spoke, it sounded like a haughty tone to her slightly scolding him. He raised an eyebrow at her and subtly looked her over. Not in a flirtatious way, but that of 'who does she think she is' kind of way. He could see she was cautious of him when he joined them, and rightfully so. His rough large hand clasped hers, and he gave her a firm shake as he spoke. "I might take that into consideration next time I randomly throw something. Nice to meet you, Vivienne." He gave her a lazy smirk and turned towards Cassiel. "Nice to meet you, Cass. Again, my apologies, man."
He turned towards the cowboy and offered a friendly handshake as well. "Nice to meet you, Maddox." He gave Maddox a firm shake and looked him over before a shit eating grin spread across his face. "Did you take a wrong turn somewhere, dude?" He said this jokingly as he snickered and glanced down. That's when he noticed his bottle of whiskey in Maddox's hand. "I can take that back." He nodded towards the bottle and looked at Maddox with his hand out so it could be passed back to him. He hadn't even realized someone took it from him.
He turned towards the newcomer that showed herself around the same time he had and nodded in acknowledgment of her as a greeting. He started to look between the group, just listening until he was directly spoken to when some wannabe Adonis came by and stolen the Frisbee. The ass then ran towards the water and stayed there with a cocky smirk on his face. He knew something was up with that guy but didn't really give a shit unless it was directed towards himself.
He had just taken a swig from the whiskey bottle when he heard a 'quack' coming from the cowboy standing next to him. He became alert and saw the Frisbee coming right at the group as he dodged out of the way. Though he was sprayed with the water that had flown off of it. He didn't care since he was already soaked from his swim. He looked around the group to check if they were all okay when he saw Cassiel's back. "Hey, man. There's a long red scratch across your back, and it's slightly bleeding." He said through gritted teeth as he turned his gun metal grey eyes to the culprit responsible for it. "You got something to prove, little guy? Or are you just being an asshole?"
He turned towards the cowboy and offered a friendly handshake as well. "Nice to meet you, Maddox." He gave Maddox a firm shake and looked him over before a shit eating grin spread across his face. "Did you take a wrong turn somewhere, dude?" He said this jokingly as he snickered and glanced down. That's when he noticed his bottle of whiskey in Maddox's hand. "I can take that back." He nodded towards the bottle and looked at Maddox with his hand out so it could be passed back to him. He hadn't even realized someone took it from him.
He turned towards the newcomer that showed herself around the same time he had and nodded in acknowledgment of her as a greeting. He started to look between the group, just listening until he was directly spoken to when some wannabe Adonis came by and stolen the Frisbee. The ass then ran towards the water and stayed there with a cocky smirk on his face. He knew something was up with that guy but didn't really give a shit unless it was directed towards himself.
He had just taken a swig from the whiskey bottle when he heard a 'quack' coming from the cowboy standing next to him. He became alert and saw the Frisbee coming right at the group as he dodged out of the way. Though he was sprayed with the water that had flown off of it. He didn't care since he was already soaked from his swim. He looked around the group to check if they were all okay when he saw Cassiel's back. "Hey, man. There's a long red scratch across your back, and it's slightly bleeding." He said through gritted teeth as he turned his gun metal grey eyes to the culprit responsible for it. "You got something to prove, little guy? Or are you just being an asshole?"
Vivienne blinked once, and only once. That was all the composure she allowed herself after watching Cassiel, already her favorite toy on the beach, take a second direct hit. The second one came with a magical waterburst, right to the back. Still, the man had moved to shield her from it.
Her brows lifted delicately. Not out of surprise, but out of something much more dangerous: intrigue.
She turned her head toward the surf, blue eyes narrowed to blades as they followed the retreating form of the grinning swimmer. Her voice was calm, but laced with warning.
“Well. You’ve made your entrance, with other people’s property and questionable aim.” She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. “You’ve either got terrible timing, or a very short list of people you’re trying to impress.”
She reached into the cooler pulling out a second drink, not for herself, but for Cassiel. Twisting off the cap, she pressed it lightly into his palm. “For the pain,” she said smoothly, then added with a sly smirk, “and for being my very handsome human shield.”
Then she turned to Creed, who had clocked the injury with a grim tone and a hunter’s stare. “Thank you,” she said softly, and this time the words were genuine. “Don’t waste your rage on a boy who tries to act like a storm. He’s already soaked in irrelevance.”
Her gaze turned to Maddox next. She didn’t say anything, just gave him a look. It said, you, I trust to bring a rope and tie that fish down if he swims too close again.
And finally, Cece. Vivienne walked to her like gravity demanded it, taking her hands gently, palms to palms. “I called you because I needed something fierce at my side,” she said, eyes searching hers with just a glimmer of real weariness behind the flirt and fire. “I didn’t expect to host a bloody parade. But now that you’re here…”
She turned, arms extended, addressing the group with mock-solemnity, like she was christening a yacht full of hooligans. “Everyone, meet Amicia. She will not flirt with you. She will not tolerate you. And if you step too far out of line, she will ruin you with a single sentence. Do behave.”
Then, softer, only to Amicia as she leaned in, “And you will tell me who that walking ego in the water is. If he throws one more thing, I swear I’ll summon something from the deep to drag him under.”
She let her lips curve again, lazy and wicked, “Gods, Cece. I have missed this.”
Her brows lifted delicately. Not out of surprise, but out of something much more dangerous: intrigue.
She turned her head toward the surf, blue eyes narrowed to blades as they followed the retreating form of the grinning swimmer. Her voice was calm, but laced with warning.
“Well. You’ve made your entrance, with other people’s property and questionable aim.” She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. “You’ve either got terrible timing, or a very short list of people you’re trying to impress.”
She reached into the cooler pulling out a second drink, not for herself, but for Cassiel. Twisting off the cap, she pressed it lightly into his palm. “For the pain,” she said smoothly, then added with a sly smirk, “and for being my very handsome human shield.”
Then she turned to Creed, who had clocked the injury with a grim tone and a hunter’s stare. “Thank you,” she said softly, and this time the words were genuine. “Don’t waste your rage on a boy who tries to act like a storm. He’s already soaked in irrelevance.”
Her gaze turned to Maddox next. She didn’t say anything, just gave him a look. It said, you, I trust to bring a rope and tie that fish down if he swims too close again.
And finally, Cece. Vivienne walked to her like gravity demanded it, taking her hands gently, palms to palms. “I called you because I needed something fierce at my side,” she said, eyes searching hers with just a glimmer of real weariness behind the flirt and fire. “I didn’t expect to host a bloody parade. But now that you’re here…”
She turned, arms extended, addressing the group with mock-solemnity, like she was christening a yacht full of hooligans. “Everyone, meet Amicia. She will not flirt with you. She will not tolerate you. And if you step too far out of line, she will ruin you with a single sentence. Do behave.”
Then, softer, only to Amicia as she leaned in, “And you will tell me who that walking ego in the water is. If he throws one more thing, I swear I’ll summon something from the deep to drag him under.”
She let her lips curve again, lazy and wicked, “Gods, Cece. I have missed this.”
Amicia wasn’t amused. Perhaps that was the nature of her condition, or the mere fact her brain never seemed to pick up on the ways of careless fun. Oh, she had fun, but it was of her own structure. It was wines, arts, theatre, running, flirtation, but it was normally done in the gorgeous cities of Paris, London, or Rome. It was not done on the beach, where she could already feel the sand beneath her shoes.
Despite all of that, Amicia did notice that Vivienne lit up, both in defence and flirtation when the flying disc smashed against the tall, dark one’s head. Amicia’s eyebrow rose an inch at Vivienne’s genuine laugh, and those dark eyes tracked like dangerous targets over to Creed. It was nothing against any of them, but Amicia was the epitome of resting bitch face, and that coldness reflected as she looked at him. Amicia’s eyes moved back to her sister. Amicia didn’t laugh, she rarely did, but there was a twitch at the corner of her mouth, a sliver of dark amusement threading through her usual frost. Her voice when she spoke was not only thickly English, but nearly icy, like the temperature could drop if she asked it too. “Champagne makes poor company when the world insists on comedy, darling,” She said, voice like chilled velvet. Her gaze drifted toward Vivienne, then to the ocean, its waves too calm for the chaos on shore. “Not to mention, you already spiral with the grace of a swan dive.”
She plucked the bottle from her sister’s hand with one long-fingered swipe and took a measured sip, more a test than a toast. As she lowered the bottle, she murmured, “I’ll bring a helmet,” She mused, eyes narrowing slightly as the man groaned. “But only if I’m allowed to throw it.” She said it so flat and evenly, it was terribly hard to deduce if she was kidding or not.
Just when Amicia was getting ready to introduce herself, as Maddox had already tipped his hat, and Cassiel had started to nod in her direction before his unfortunate incident, but hell seemed to break loose once again as a man ran by, and outright stole the frisbee. Amicia’s eyes blinked, and before her mouth could open, the frisbee came slinging back in their direction. Normally, she would have moved to protect Vivi, as her family was the only thing she stood for, and she even started too, but she received a genuine surprise when Cassiel stood infront of them instead, and it was he who took the frisbee across the back.
Stepping back, her eyes moved over him differently. Not as a flirt or a tease, but simply curiosity before she looked at Vivienne, who approached her and took her hands. Amicia gave her hands with no hesitation. The moment between them cracked through her icy exterior with something warm and old. Familiar. She didn’t smile, but her head tilted the slightest degree, forehead lowering just enough to meet Vivienne’s gaze with something like reverence. Or loyalty sharpened to a point. If one looked close enough, under the annoyance, one could even see the hint of family love. “I do not suffer parades, Vivienne,” She responded dryly, her voice like smoke over glass, “But I came because you called. I will always come.”
As Vivienne turned and unleashed her theatrical pronouncement, Amicia stood still and unbothered in the center of it, every inch the blade hidden in velvet. Her expression didn’t shift at the introductions, though her eyes did shift to each one, and each was accompanied by a head-nod. Vivienne was not wrong in her introduction, and although Amicia would talk if talked too, the chances of her engaging were less likely, at least without several alcoholic drinks. But at that final whisper, at the question cloaked in conspiratorial wickedness, Amicia’s gaze cut back to the ocean. She followed the line of Vivienne’s smirk like it was a blade itself. She watched the man in the water. And then, finally, she smiled. Just a little. Just enough to be dangerous. “Summon from the deep, my sister,” She murmured, “And I’ll handle what floats.”
Releasing Vivienne’s hands, Amicia turned fully to face the rest of the gathering, her expression as unmoved as the tide before a storm. Her gaze drifted across them, slow and surgical. Not assessing danger. Measuring. And certainly judging. There was a quiet pause as she took them in, the chaos, the charm, the little bruises of ego scattered like shells on the sand. She let her arms fold gently across her chest, not defensive, just deliberate. “So,” She started, her voice calm and measured, “This is the parade.” A small breath, nearly a sigh. Not exasperated. Just amused. “The shirtless, the sun-warm, the….cowboy, and the slightly wounded.” Her eyes flicked briefly to the one bleeding and then she looked back to Vivienne, dry affection in her tone. “Of course you’d summon this.”
She turned then to the group at large, her gaze steady but not unkind: “I won’t pretend to be easy company. But I came when she called, which means, for now, you have me.” A pause came then as she knew she would give in because it was what Vivi asked. Her mouth quirked slightly, just at the corner as she sighed. “Do make it worth the sunburn.”
Despite all of that, Amicia did notice that Vivienne lit up, both in defence and flirtation when the flying disc smashed against the tall, dark one’s head. Amicia’s eyebrow rose an inch at Vivienne’s genuine laugh, and those dark eyes tracked like dangerous targets over to Creed. It was nothing against any of them, but Amicia was the epitome of resting bitch face, and that coldness reflected as she looked at him. Amicia’s eyes moved back to her sister. Amicia didn’t laugh, she rarely did, but there was a twitch at the corner of her mouth, a sliver of dark amusement threading through her usual frost. Her voice when she spoke was not only thickly English, but nearly icy, like the temperature could drop if she asked it too. “Champagne makes poor company when the world insists on comedy, darling,” She said, voice like chilled velvet. Her gaze drifted toward Vivienne, then to the ocean, its waves too calm for the chaos on shore. “Not to mention, you already spiral with the grace of a swan dive.”
She plucked the bottle from her sister’s hand with one long-fingered swipe and took a measured sip, more a test than a toast. As she lowered the bottle, she murmured, “I’ll bring a helmet,” She mused, eyes narrowing slightly as the man groaned. “But only if I’m allowed to throw it.” She said it so flat and evenly, it was terribly hard to deduce if she was kidding or not.
Just when Amicia was getting ready to introduce herself, as Maddox had already tipped his hat, and Cassiel had started to nod in her direction before his unfortunate incident, but hell seemed to break loose once again as a man ran by, and outright stole the frisbee. Amicia’s eyes blinked, and before her mouth could open, the frisbee came slinging back in their direction. Normally, she would have moved to protect Vivi, as her family was the only thing she stood for, and she even started too, but she received a genuine surprise when Cassiel stood infront of them instead, and it was he who took the frisbee across the back.
Stepping back, her eyes moved over him differently. Not as a flirt or a tease, but simply curiosity before she looked at Vivienne, who approached her and took her hands. Amicia gave her hands with no hesitation. The moment between them cracked through her icy exterior with something warm and old. Familiar. She didn’t smile, but her head tilted the slightest degree, forehead lowering just enough to meet Vivienne’s gaze with something like reverence. Or loyalty sharpened to a point. If one looked close enough, under the annoyance, one could even see the hint of family love. “I do not suffer parades, Vivienne,” She responded dryly, her voice like smoke over glass, “But I came because you called. I will always come.”
As Vivienne turned and unleashed her theatrical pronouncement, Amicia stood still and unbothered in the center of it, every inch the blade hidden in velvet. Her expression didn’t shift at the introductions, though her eyes did shift to each one, and each was accompanied by a head-nod. Vivienne was not wrong in her introduction, and although Amicia would talk if talked too, the chances of her engaging were less likely, at least without several alcoholic drinks. But at that final whisper, at the question cloaked in conspiratorial wickedness, Amicia’s gaze cut back to the ocean. She followed the line of Vivienne’s smirk like it was a blade itself. She watched the man in the water. And then, finally, she smiled. Just a little. Just enough to be dangerous. “Summon from the deep, my sister,” She murmured, “And I’ll handle what floats.”
Releasing Vivienne’s hands, Amicia turned fully to face the rest of the gathering, her expression as unmoved as the tide before a storm. Her gaze drifted across them, slow and surgical. Not assessing danger. Measuring. And certainly judging. There was a quiet pause as she took them in, the chaos, the charm, the little bruises of ego scattered like shells on the sand. She let her arms fold gently across her chest, not defensive, just deliberate. “So,” She started, her voice calm and measured, “This is the parade.” A small breath, nearly a sigh. Not exasperated. Just amused. “The shirtless, the sun-warm, the….cowboy, and the slightly wounded.” Her eyes flicked briefly to the one bleeding and then she looked back to Vivienne, dry affection in her tone. “Of course you’d summon this.”
She turned then to the group at large, her gaze steady but not unkind: “I won’t pretend to be easy company. But I came when she called, which means, for now, you have me.” A pause came then as she knew she would give in because it was what Vivi asked. Her mouth quirked slightly, just at the corner as she sighed. “Do make it worth the sunburn.”
Ben had meant for the frisbee to be overhead and spray the water down on people. Not to have it accidently hit one of them. It had been a minor miscalculation on his part, though. But if people hated him for his antics well, that was a bonus. They might be inclined to not want to know him on a more personal level. As he swam further out though, he did make a mental note to apologize later for the harm to the guy's back. Just not when there were others around to see it. As he easily swam further, some flags were passed by as they floated overhead. These waters felt good against the skin. The drive up here from Florida had been a damn nightmare. Fifteen straight hours at speeds that were illegal had been a blast, sure. But he disliked being away from the water for that duration. But at least there were no police to slow him down along the way! There was a simple enchantment on the bike, courtesy of a certain witch he had favored.
Once he went out several yards beyond the flags above the water, he planted his bare feet against the sand. His body wasn't exactly buoyant like one might expect. An inhale of water was made as it easily replaced the air in his lungs. Yeah, this spot would do just fine! The man sat down and just chilled out while the water revitalized his spirit. He propped one hand against the sand while one knee bent upward. His other arm rested atop the knee that was bent up as he stared ahead of himself to watch the sun as it shined through. He noticed a few sharks in the distance as his eyes focused on them briefly. Saltwater didn't bother him in the slightest due to a simple fact. Water dragons lived in the ocean for the most part. Though he'd never seen another one of his kind, personally. He wondered if there were any places nearby that could hide a dragon under the water's surface. While he pondered for a moment, he turned his attention back to the sharks.
As long as they didn't come any closer, he wouldn't chase them. Besides, there were people on the beach. Whether they could handle one of these creatures he didn't know. But as he was alone at that moment, he didn't mind chasing them away. Of course, then again, he did have a taste for shark flesh, and he hadn't eaten in the last fifteen hours. Not since yesterday when he left his condo on the beach in Miami. The pupils of his eyes became almost vertical as he watched the sharks swim about further ahead. For a brief moment cerulean and turquoise scales surfaced over tanned skin as he debated a nice little chase. His thoughts were interrupted when something shuffled against the hand he was propped up on. The man turned his head as his human form continued to persist for now. The thing that bumped into him looked like a clam. Snack time! Fingers grabbed it quickly as he easily cracked it open and popped the chewy meat into his mouth. The shell that remained as buried into the sand. Another deep breath was inhaled and then exhaled. There was a strong chance he'd stay right here for a good bit. The water here really did feel good.
Once he went out several yards beyond the flags above the water, he planted his bare feet against the sand. His body wasn't exactly buoyant like one might expect. An inhale of water was made as it easily replaced the air in his lungs. Yeah, this spot would do just fine! The man sat down and just chilled out while the water revitalized his spirit. He propped one hand against the sand while one knee bent upward. His other arm rested atop the knee that was bent up as he stared ahead of himself to watch the sun as it shined through. He noticed a few sharks in the distance as his eyes focused on them briefly. Saltwater didn't bother him in the slightest due to a simple fact. Water dragons lived in the ocean for the most part. Though he'd never seen another one of his kind, personally. He wondered if there were any places nearby that could hide a dragon under the water's surface. While he pondered for a moment, he turned his attention back to the sharks.
As long as they didn't come any closer, he wouldn't chase them. Besides, there were people on the beach. Whether they could handle one of these creatures he didn't know. But as he was alone at that moment, he didn't mind chasing them away. Of course, then again, he did have a taste for shark flesh, and he hadn't eaten in the last fifteen hours. Not since yesterday when he left his condo on the beach in Miami. The pupils of his eyes became almost vertical as he watched the sharks swim about further ahead. For a brief moment cerulean and turquoise scales surfaced over tanned skin as he debated a nice little chase. His thoughts were interrupted when something shuffled against the hand he was propped up on. The man turned his head as his human form continued to persist for now. The thing that bumped into him looked like a clam. Snack time! Fingers grabbed it quickly as he easily cracked it open and popped the chewy meat into his mouth. The shell that remained as buried into the sand. Another deep breath was inhaled and then exhaled. There was a strong chance he'd stay right here for a good bit. The water here really did feel good.
When Creed came around, Maddox took his hand with an easy grin and a solid shake.“Well, I may look like I took the wrong interaction, but as long as there’s beer, I ain’t fussin’ at the settin’’, he joked, then glanced down at the bottle in his grip like it had just grown there. “Hell, Creed, I thought this was a gift.” He handed it back with a chuckle and picked up his own almost empty drink instead, halfway through getting it to his mouth when he heard it….and quacked.
The disc of vengeance returned, arcing through the air like it had unfinished business. Maddox was still amused by the soaked shirt situation when the sharp scent of blood hit him, just after the disc slammed across Cassiel’s back. He turned fast enough to see Cass plant himself like a damn wall in front of the girls, stoic and unmoving. No surprise there. Maddox’s grin was still in place, but there was something sharp beneath it now, a flicker of that wilder edge. “I’d say you make one hell of a shield, Cass.” The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. They had narrowed, focused, coyote sharp. He looked out over the waves, then at the flicker of amber in Cassiel’s gaze. “Guess we ain’t playin’ nice no more.” His voice dropped low, that easy charm darkened with intent.
He heard Vivienne next, calling Creed back down to earth, calm but firm. And damn if she didn’t have a way of grounding the whole damn group. He caught the way her gaze lingered on him, like she saw more than the dusty boots and drawl. Maddox didn’t flinch from it. He just unbuttoned his wet shirt and shrugged it off, revealing lean muscle honed from honest work and not much rest. The white tank clung to his torso in the heat, doing nothing to hide the strength under the skin.
When the girl, Amicia, spoke, he turned his head and tipped his hat. “Well, damn. If that ain’t the most poetic way I’ve ever been threatened with friendship.” A crooked grin followed, a country boy charm edging around his mouth. “We’ll try not to waste the honor, or the sunburn.”
He was about to say more when the sharp sound of splashing drew his attention back toward the ocean. Maddox squinted, his sharp eyes catching the man first in the sand.“Uh… is that fella out there—” He paused, watching the man, his eyes sharp, like a man spotting a shark chewing on sushi. “Is he… eatin’ raw fish?” A beat passed then as his gaze slowly turned back to Cassiel. “Y’all do things different in this circle, huh?” Reaching into the cooler, he grabbed and popped the cap off another beer with the edge of his belt buckle.“Right. So… who’s got the next move, or we just gonna let sushi-boy keep entertainin’ the crabs?”
The disc of vengeance returned, arcing through the air like it had unfinished business. Maddox was still amused by the soaked shirt situation when the sharp scent of blood hit him, just after the disc slammed across Cassiel’s back. He turned fast enough to see Cass plant himself like a damn wall in front of the girls, stoic and unmoving. No surprise there. Maddox’s grin was still in place, but there was something sharp beneath it now, a flicker of that wilder edge. “I’d say you make one hell of a shield, Cass.” The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. They had narrowed, focused, coyote sharp. He looked out over the waves, then at the flicker of amber in Cassiel’s gaze. “Guess we ain’t playin’ nice no more.” His voice dropped low, that easy charm darkened with intent.
He heard Vivienne next, calling Creed back down to earth, calm but firm. And damn if she didn’t have a way of grounding the whole damn group. He caught the way her gaze lingered on him, like she saw more than the dusty boots and drawl. Maddox didn’t flinch from it. He just unbuttoned his wet shirt and shrugged it off, revealing lean muscle honed from honest work and not much rest. The white tank clung to his torso in the heat, doing nothing to hide the strength under the skin.
When the girl, Amicia, spoke, he turned his head and tipped his hat. “Well, damn. If that ain’t the most poetic way I’ve ever been threatened with friendship.” A crooked grin followed, a country boy charm edging around his mouth. “We’ll try not to waste the honor, or the sunburn.”
He was about to say more when the sharp sound of splashing drew his attention back toward the ocean. Maddox squinted, his sharp eyes catching the man first in the sand.“Uh… is that fella out there—” He paused, watching the man, his eyes sharp, like a man spotting a shark chewing on sushi. “Is he… eatin’ raw fish?” A beat passed then as his gaze slowly turned back to Cassiel. “Y’all do things different in this circle, huh?” Reaching into the cooler, he grabbed and popped the cap off another beer with the edge of his belt buckle.“Right. So… who’s got the next move, or we just gonna let sushi-boy keep entertainin’ the crabs?”
Cassiel was one of those guys that usually stayed in a relatively good mood, especially when his best friend and a hot girl were near. He could forgive the accidental frisbee to the head. He could even forgive it being stolen by some random guy - for all they knew it belonged to him and he left it from being on the beach the day before. But to draw the blood of an angel was not something he would let slide with ease.
His blood was like the sweet wine in a holy chalice that represented the blood of Christ. If any blood consuming creature was in ten miles of them and got a whiff of his blood, there could be a problem. Cassiel's eyes, a bright amber, glowed with the intensity of a star about to super nova. But it was Vivienne putting a cool bottle in the palm of his hand that calmed him.
When she started speaking to Creed about not wasting his time or anger on the man, Cassiel turned away from the waves. He felt the tickles of something wet tripping down his back. He believed he counted at least five lines of blood, but he could be wrong. He turned his head to look over his shoulder but was unable to see his back. He reached a hand back and swiped where it stung the worst. His hand came away with his shining, crimson blood.
He didn't say anything to anyone. Vivienne was busy with her friend. Creed was deciding whether he was going to seek some vengeance. Maddox was...What did Maddox just say? Cass turned to face the water and caught the tail end of his attacked tossing a shell away and chewing on something. Cassiel lifted the bottle of booze to his lips and chugged it down.
He went to the ice chest and tossed the empty bottle in it. Vivienne had already given him a new bottle and he drank it slowly as he moved towards Maddox. He looked at his friend and said softly, "I need to stop bleeding. I might start attracting attention if it doesn't stop."
Angel blood, something vampires associated with the similar effects of the drug ecstasy to humans, might appeal to more than just blood suckers. He knew he was in the company of other supernatural beings, but he didn't yet know exactly what they were. One of them might very easily be planning to have him for dinner.
His blood was like the sweet wine in a holy chalice that represented the blood of Christ. If any blood consuming creature was in ten miles of them and got a whiff of his blood, there could be a problem. Cassiel's eyes, a bright amber, glowed with the intensity of a star about to super nova. But it was Vivienne putting a cool bottle in the palm of his hand that calmed him.
When she started speaking to Creed about not wasting his time or anger on the man, Cassiel turned away from the waves. He felt the tickles of something wet tripping down his back. He believed he counted at least five lines of blood, but he could be wrong. He turned his head to look over his shoulder but was unable to see his back. He reached a hand back and swiped where it stung the worst. His hand came away with his shining, crimson blood.
He didn't say anything to anyone. Vivienne was busy with her friend. Creed was deciding whether he was going to seek some vengeance. Maddox was...What did Maddox just say? Cass turned to face the water and caught the tail end of his attacked tossing a shell away and chewing on something. Cassiel lifted the bottle of booze to his lips and chugged it down.
He went to the ice chest and tossed the empty bottle in it. Vivienne had already given him a new bottle and he drank it slowly as he moved towards Maddox. He looked at his friend and said softly, "I need to stop bleeding. I might start attracting attention if it doesn't stop."
Angel blood, something vampires associated with the similar effects of the drug ecstasy to humans, might appeal to more than just blood suckers. He knew he was in the company of other supernatural beings, but he didn't yet know exactly what they were. One of them might very easily be planning to have him for dinner.
Creed's piercing gaze never left the antagonist in the water as he decided whether to teach the boy some manners. He barely heard Vivienne give thanks but turned his gaze briefly from the water and looked over at her. His eyes softened slightly at her words and a slight smirk played at the corner of his lips before he spoke. "No thanks necessary. And as for irrelevance... you are quite right. I won't waste my energy on him. Thanks." His deep, husky voice sincerely spoke as he took one more glance at the guy in the waves.
He turned back towards the group when he heard Vivienne introduce her friend. He have another nod towards the dark haired girl, but didn't say anything. He wasn't a chatty person normally a chatty person to begin. He smirked slightly at Amicia words about her not pretending to be easy company and looked at her. "Pretending is a waste of time." He said as he took a swig from the bottle of whiskey that was now back in his hand. He turned is gaze away from Amicia as he heard Maddox ask about someone eating raw fish.
He swivled his head in the direction where Maddox was talking about and shook his head in slight amusement. He looked back at Maddox as he spoke, "I think that boy is in a circle of his own. A slight snort through his nose left him as he laughed. Then he looked over at Cassiel who seemed to be trying to see his bloody injury. Creed could smell the blood in the air and knew Cass was unique, but it didn't entice him in any way other than intrigue of what he could be. He knew all of them were supernatural, but the what was an uncertainty of a few of the group members. "You okay, Cass? It should stop bleeding soon hopefully. I can run to my condo nearby if you need a med kit."
He was sincere when he offered to run to his place that was on the first floor if needed. He turned back towards the waters and continued to watch the one that drew blood. His mind soon started drifted and calm as he thought about the golden eyed beauty he met while he was away.
He turned back towards the group when he heard Vivienne introduce her friend. He have another nod towards the dark haired girl, but didn't say anything. He wasn't a chatty person normally a chatty person to begin. He smirked slightly at Amicia words about her not pretending to be easy company and looked at her. "Pretending is a waste of time." He said as he took a swig from the bottle of whiskey that was now back in his hand. He turned is gaze away from Amicia as he heard Maddox ask about someone eating raw fish.
He swivled his head in the direction where Maddox was talking about and shook his head in slight amusement. He looked back at Maddox as he spoke, "I think that boy is in a circle of his own. A slight snort through his nose left him as he laughed. Then he looked over at Cassiel who seemed to be trying to see his bloody injury. Creed could smell the blood in the air and knew Cass was unique, but it didn't entice him in any way other than intrigue of what he could be. He knew all of them were supernatural, but the what was an uncertainty of a few of the group members. "You okay, Cass? It should stop bleeding soon hopefully. I can run to my condo nearby if you need a med kit."
He was sincere when he offered to run to his place that was on the first floor if needed. He turned back towards the waters and continued to watch the one that drew blood. His mind soon started drifted and calm as he thought about the golden eyed beauty he met while he was away.
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