[SWE] The Punchiest Pool Party

Pierce

Torchline is perfect for this occasion, even if their purply little additions to Caido couldn’t make it. They could - in this portion, at least - though let it be known that Pierce absolutely arrives, glaring at the city in the distance with utmost distaste.

And to think, he’s hosting this lovely party for all of you in spite of it. Who’s really the good guy, here?

The hels cry as they dive across the coast, hovering nearby the barbecues and tables laden with food in the hopes they might get a piece. Stakes have been driven into the sand with ropes attached and a variety of unique colored and shaped pool floaties, purple and black and a touch too different looking from the regions usual fauna (as if reminders of what had once been), and some smaller, squishy versions of Starfall’s own finest. (The mirewyrm, anyone? Anyone??)

And the man himself, standing amongst the sand and sea with a very casual smile tugging on his face, brushes a bit of sand from his shirt (a crop top, for those wondering) that reveals a variety of muscles from the already musclier member of the Family. “Alright, let’s open this up.” He calls to no one in particular, over the upbeat music playing in the background.

Those that enter the party, though, might feel something a smidge off about it - aside from the fact the Family’s around.

---

Welcome to Pierce’s Pool Party! There’s food, games, pool floaties to mimic all your favorite void beasts.

You must post twice to receive credit for the SWE.

And keep in mind that Pierce has activated the following around the party location.

With Me Now | Projects a 60ft dome. Magical abilities (including demigod abilities) are negated within the dome and only physical attacks may be used.

the wounds are open and bleeding out

Ronin sets himself up a full 61ft away from the proceedings, his face shaded by his sunglasses, his bare feet dangling from the nimbus cloud he's seated upon. He sips quietly at the bottle of beer he keeps in his lap, even having the audacity to raise it in a grim little cheers to the man who had beaten the fuck out of him and stolen a death sword from his grip. 

Today, the Knight is acting as lifeguard over the proceedings - and if anything goes awry, it might very well be in the most literal interpretation of the word. For now, though, shirtless and with his red swim shorts in stark contrast to the fluffy white of his cloud seat, his eyes flit across the proceedings as if constantly on the lookout for more members of The Family.

No danger, not yet. But he knows first hand that even if Pierce is the only one here today, that's plenty dangerous enough.

THE

KNIGHT

Table coding by Sky

JACK

Also on the outskirts of the proceedings - though that's more because he's not a floatie kind of guy than because he doesn't appreciate the little mirewyrm (he does, in a twisted, fuck off kind of way), Jack stands in the shade of a large parasol, nursing an iced glass of rum that never appears to be in danger of melting, his body angled partially away from the festivities.

In the near distance, The Ark bobs in the deeper water, the glint and sparkle of something every now and then showing the use of a spyglass to keep abreast of what's happening. One signal to Murphy will have the ship on its way, but Jack doesn't plan to get any closer to the man who had murdered him in cold blood unless it's to return the favour.

And since that's about as likely as Starfall getting up, excusing itself, and taking itself back into space, he'll settle for getting slowly drunk instead.

you're the last of a dying breed; write our names in the wet concrete
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

Code stolen from Queen Sky

we are ready and prepared to fight, raise up your swords, don't be afraid

He shouldn’t have come. He should have stayed safely home with his family, with Ravenna and Marcus and Margot and played games well into the dark of the night, laughing and building memories he would hold on to forever.

But duty had its own gravity.

Still, the thought of stepping into this pool party made his teeth clench. Godblood meant nothing if it could be silenced—and Flora had made sure the world knew that Pierce could silence all of their magic. The man had killed Flora, and Jack, and Noah knew he wielded the blade that could kill with one strike.

Yet here he was, heart steady, breath slow, preparing to walk into danger with both eyes open—as composed as the frozen scape of Halo itself. His wings folded against his back as he landed, half shifted in the distance. The sounds of the party grew closer as he walked across the sand, wings disappearing of his own accord before they were taken from him.

If something went wrong—and it often did in large gatherings such as this, even before or despite the Family—he had to be near enough to intervene.

THE F O R S A K E N

DEIMOS

Deimos had probably never dreaded a pool party so immensely. Not that he was invited to or attended many – the circumstances prevailing around this one in particular were set to drive a knife’s edge into his ribs. But unwilling to let the trepidation show, he cast all the stoicism across his features. There was a mission to complete. If he couldn’t, well – he’d already had hordes of nightmares about those circumstances.

He knew enough about Pierce to not want to be anywhere near the individual until the right moment, so he glanced in the direction of floaties and food, opting out for the instant. His attire was simple, swim trunks with deep pockets laden in an assortment of items for later, but not enough to look assuming or ridiculous.

Arching his brow at those already in attendance, he sidled towards Ronin first, nimbus cloud and all. Got your letter he offered through the Attuned bond, while they could use it. Did Flora tell you about the plan for Pierce’s blood?

who we were before bones, before dirt, before even light
we have always been deep, restless souls

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

Pierce really did have a punchable face – at least, from what she could see from the Firecracker.

Melita hadn’t meant to make a big entrance, but she hovered along in her skyship nonetheless, not particularly enjoying the weird feeling of her enchantments simply not being there as she sidled along and slowed the process until she didn’t crash land in the sand nearby.

Anyway, what an uncomfortable ass shindig.

She certainly wasn’t going to be the first to try the food or sway to the music, the former was probably poisoned and the latter was not her taste – so instead she opted to linger somewhat on the sidelines, gauging individuals, and then pretending to adjust the sails so they were just so.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

flora

The sound of her heels biting into the sand is delicate, but it’s the colour that hits first—blistering red, like the threat of a sunburn or the flash of a warning flag. Flora glides into view with a drink in hand and a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes, the kind of smile meant to kill conversation before it starts. The long lace wrap draped over her shoulders trails like sea foam behind her, whispering secrets as it flutters in the ocean breeze.

Torchline shouldn’t have to tolerate this.

She shouldn’t have to tolerate this, but fuck it, here she is.

Her aqua eyes sweep across the party with idle disdain dressed up as curiosity. There’s the usual chaos—drinks, pool floaties that are a little too on the nose, and the buzzing hum of manufactured fun—but underneath it, something is off. The air hums too tight in her chest, like the beat of the music is one second from skipping.

And then there’s him. Pierce stands at the centre of it all like he belongs here and fuck if that doesn't make Flora want to scream. Instead of looking directly at him, instead her gaze skims past him like the brush of a feathered dagger, lingering instead on the man beneath the umbrella. Jack. She doesn’t wave, doesn’t smile. Whatever strange, tense ceasefire exists between them now, the one thing she knows with absolute certainty is that he loathes Pierce as much as she does. And that is perhaps the only thing she finds comfort in just now.

Her fingers tighten slightly around her glass as she opts to linger in the sunlight, not wanting to stand too close to anyone lest someone else is caught up in the crossfire of the numerous threats levelled against her.

The rumors are terrible and cruel
But honey, most of them are true

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Hadama had his own feelings about Torchline being 'chosen' to host this event, but as was so often the case he kept them to himself, deep beneath the still waters of his control. He came not from the sea for once, but from the Court - a flask of his own in hand, courtesy of the Healing Fountain there. For once the King who was usually so allergic to shirts came well-covered: simple black swim trunks edged in gold beneath a yukata-like pool coverup that draped to mid-calf and halfway to his wrists. The black fabric was lightweight and glittered with golden stars, and he had it belted loosely closed, though it hung with the weight of several objects in its pockets.

His jewelry was in full effect today as well. The silver armlet bound his bicep, complemented by several rings on his fingers and the emeralds in his ears. A hair ornament of a crescent moon design, also in silver, bound back his hair. He stepped lightly across the sand, nodding to those gathered already as he took in the... setup.

Solemn inclinations of his head greeted Ronin, Noah, and Deimos, along with a whisper of quiet, wordless welcome in the Attuned bond. To Jack and Melita he could only nod, respecting their choice of distance. Then he came up beside Flora and paused, taking her hand and offering a squeeze of solidarity that quite disregarded her desire to stand solitary against the threat. For her there was a ghost of a smile, a small flicker of one corner of his mouth lifting in wry acknowledgment of the day's likelihood of going to hell. "As always, my co-ruler, you slay," he murmured for her ears alone.

And then he was moving past, graceful and unhurried as he headed straight for their... host. On Torchline's shore. In his region.

"You are Pierce?" It was a question, rumbled courteously as Hadama stopped before the man in the crop top. And this time his expression held nothing but stoic neutrality as he waited for confirmation or denial of his query.

the rumpus and ruckus are comfortable now

Still reeling from the fall of the tower and escaping Stormbreak like running out of a girl's house when her dad pulls up in the drive, Kaisel is in Torchline to check on how everyone is settling. No one is happy, understandably, but many are alive and well, and that's about all he can hope for. Dressed for the heat with an unbuttoned tropical print shirt and matching swim trunks, Kaisel glances over his shades at the assembled 'party'. Much like a middle school dance, everyone is just hugging the walls, waiting.

Kaisel isn't privy to the plans that many of the assembled have woven, wouldn't be able to offer much even if he did, but he does have a bit of a desire to show the Family that he isn't as rattled as he actually is. So he plays it very nonchalant, the least chalant he can muster in fact. He strolls towards the buffet table and swipes a hotdog, raising it Pierce in a cheers along with a nod before tumbling backwards into the pool. He aims for a ring that is a void-viper eating its own tail, and settles in the center with a splash that sends him coasting out into the center of the water.

Kaisel

everybody come hang, let's go out with a bang

Iskra

Iskra tracks the coasting descent of the Firecracker long before he rounds the corner to see it land, and the gathering. He'd found the trip to Torchline rather...relaxing in an unexpected way, so had lingered, like he couldn't quite bring himself to bid such fond memories goodbye for favor of woods and insistent chill. Goose is less thrilled by the change of scenery, and has opted to stay where they've been sleeping, a nearby access to the water meaning that's the only place the dog can be found.

None of this bodes well, Iskra thinks as he frowns over at the Family member. It's his first time seeing one in the flesh, the one upside to playing mountain hermit. He glances at the others who have assembled and hover at the edge of the barrier, the weight of it pressing the mute button a stifling thing, to be sure. He presses on towards the Firecracker though, calling up softly, "Melita!"

You and me belong together, like cold iced tea and warmer weather
Where we lay out late underneath the pines, and we still have fun when the sun won't shine
You and me belong together all the time

VESPER

Vesper hadn’t wanted to come. That much was obvious in the way he lingered at the perimeter at first, all long limbs and unreadable expression, constellation freckles dim beneath his sun-charmed skin. But his sisters were here, and where they went, he followed.

The moment his boots hit sand, his mind flexed outward instinctively, brushing along the edges of every thought it could reach. Until it didn’t.

The silence was sudden, surgical. Exactly sixty feet out from Pierce, everything cut out. Not dulled, not blurred—gone. The air in that radius had teeth, though no one else seemed to feel them. Vesper’s jaw worked slightly as he crossed the invisible boundary, then backed out again like a swimmer testing for riptides. Sure enough. A clean, deliberate snuffing of his reach. And it didn’t take a genius to guess who was at the centre of it.

He lifted his eyes across the crowd and found Jack, precisely the same distance out on the other side. A silent line tethered them both to the man in the crop top, and Vesper didn’t bother hiding the unimpressed raise of his brow as their gazes met.

"Well," he muttered to himself, voice dry as ever. "Ain’t that somethin'."

Rather than approach or make a scene, he bent down with deliberate laziness, grabbing one of the least offensive-looking floaties—black, oversized, possibly a squid?—and chucked it unceremoniously into the shallows. Then, with all the theatrical disinterest of a bored cat, he chucked off his boots and waded in after it.

The water lapped warm at his calves, then thighs, and finally chest as he draped himself onto the float, hands trailing lazily at either side. Beneath the surface, his shadows slithered out like paddles, propelling the inflatable creature in slow, meandering circles that never drifted closer to the Family’s brute than absolutely necessary. He steered like a man entirely unbothered, but his constellation-marked fingers tapped out an irregular rhythm on the float’s vinyl edge, and his gaze never quite left Pierce.

I said, I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead
This is the road to ruin and we're starting at the end

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

and my heart ran away with me

Remi is leaned lazily against the edge of the cloud, one arm slung over it with the languid comfort of someone perfectly at ease—at least in appearance. The truth pools deeper beneath the surface, but for now he lets the music drown it out. His curls are damp at the ends, salt-framed and tousled, and his swim shorts—bright red, just like Ronin’s—cling a little at the hips, sun-warmed and undeniably cheerful.

The illusion of ease shatters only slightly when Deimos approaches. Remi doesn’t move, but his brows lift above the rim of his sunglasses the moment his daughter's name echoes in his mind. Slowly, deliberately, he turns his head toward Deimos, blinking once.

Her what? The question doesn’t come with panic, not yet. But it does come with the slow, creeping coil of concern that begins to wind through his chest. His hand drifts, unhurried, to brush a bit of sand from Ronin’s knee, if only to feel the warmth of something despite it seeming as though once again Flora was up to something without having told them.

remi

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

// You're the one thing that keeps the blue up in my sky //

She couldn’t say no to Hawthorn when he asked for her help—despite the face she pulled when he mentioned it was in Torchline. She’d do it, for him, but that didn’t mean she’d be smiling about it the whole time. Still, she made the most of the location, baking under the sun a time or two. Her usual hat has been swapped for shades, boots for sandals, and her hair is braided loose over one shoulder. The long and sheer white shirt draped over her bikini shifts with each step as she walks.

Finishing up his errand, Colt's steps slow beside him, her hand reaching out for his arm blindly as her attention is wholly on the steadily growing crowd. She stops altogether, eyes narrowing across the way at a pool party that looks more like a lecture on water safety, given how little fun anyone seems to be having. "Hey, look," she murmurs, a frown tugging her lips. "That’s Pierce, isn’t it? The Family member?" Her mouth thins into a grim line, tension rolling down her spine. Seems they've stumbled across the pool party they'd heard about in one of those broadcasts earlier.

Not that she's strong enough to stand against them at all, it feels even worse when she's missing all her normal tools, the familiarity of them a false comfort she'd gladly take over veeling utterly exposed like she does now. She searches the gathering for allies, for Sunjata, hoping enough of the gathered figures could be a show of force that'd keep the Family's hand at bay. This party isn't just for shits and giggles, of that she's certain. There's a motive buried here, even if it's just a flex of their continued oppression, and she doesn't like it one bit.

Her eyes catch on Vesper, drifting in the water as if utterly unbothered by the foul company. She exhales quietly at that. Though he's proved he's more than capable, she can't fight off the tightening in her chest at seeing him so amid the viper's den.

Colt

// Loving you is standing in the sun //

"If I could fly I would never come back", you said

So, that was Pierce. If Dahlia was a rapier, this guy looked more the part of a sledgehammer and it was quite tempting to imagine him as equally blunt. All brawn and no brain. Unfortunately, it didn't matter if he turned out to have muscle between his ears too if he knew how to use them.

Coasting on a sea-born breeze high above ground, the pale gore crow kept herself well out of range of the Family member. She had only shown up to put a face to the name that had been mentioned so often lately, and the tension hovering over the 'party' was nearly palpable - not exactly tempting to dive into. Spotting Ronin where he sat perched on his cloud, Maea croaked a sonorous greeting so he would know she was there in the sky with him. Then her attention returned to the gathering crowd, to follow the path of Hadama as the Tidebreaker approached the host of this charming little gathering. Concern was an icy weight in her gut, but there was nothing to do besides watch to see what would happen - if anything was to happen at all.

Maea