OPEN RP POST

[sparklemagpie.livejournal.com]

The sun in shining!

The waves are crashing!
The seagulls are taking your hotdogs like the cocky b*tches they are!



IT'S BEACH PARTY TIME!

There's volleyball, fire pits, surfing and sandcastles!

GO HAVE FUN ON YOUR SHORE LEAVE MEATSHIP DENZIENS! STACY LOVES YOU EXTRA TODAY!

Comments

[bonnypiperlad]

Jamie walks around the castle to where he's prepared his pile of rocks. It's pretty much whatever he could find in the area, so it's a mix of shapes and sizes. There's also a seashell on the top, which he carefully sets aside. He picks up a good sized rock that's been rounded smooth by the ocean and hefts it experimentally. Satisfied, he offers it to Wyn.

"I couldna find enough things to try and build a catapult, so.." He shrugs. Flinging rocks at the castle will work, in his opinion. "Feel free to start with this one if ye like, or pick your own." And then the destruction can begin!

[madeofwyn.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, that's too bad. There isn't much to build with on this beach, is there?" It's kind of a shame, in Wyn's opinion; she had to resort to actually drawing things instead of building them.

Wyn carefully sets her notebook down and takes the rock, tilting her head at the castle thoughtfully. She takes careful aim and then hurls the rock at one of the castle towers, completely obliterating it. She might be five-foot-nothing and a hundred-and-nothing, but she sure doesn't throw like a girl. (Her brothers saw to that, at least.)

[bonnypiperlad]

"Nice shot!" Jamie's scooped up another rock, and he lets it fly at one of the ramparts, cutting a nice-sized chunk out of it. Sand sprays everywhere - which seems to give him an idea. "Keep at it! I'll be right back!" He grabs the bucket he had been using and runs down to fill it up with water.

[madeofwyn.livejournal.com]

Wyn shrugs and lets another rock fly at the model Loch Ness monster in the moat. "All right!" she calls after Jamie.

[bonnypiperlad]

Jamie, true to his word, is back fairly quickly, water slopping over the sides of the bucket and soaking his feet. He doesn't care, though, since they're already wet.

"I think that perhaps a wee flood would be in order," he comments cheerfully. He's not actually looking so much at the castle when he says that, though, but at Wyn. And there might - just might - be a impish gleam in his eye, there.