Good Solstice, milliways_bar

[jack_inthegreen]

In the gray pre-dawn light, the man in green has been busy.

There are rows of trestle tables set up by the lake--far from the new grave as well as anything else that might be disturbed by such things--and on the central table he sets up the horn of plenty he carved the day before. Now he lays a hand on the wood and quietly asks the elements around it to fill the horn and assemble themselves, so that there will be plenty to eat and it will all be nourishing and tasty. When he has done this the horn begins to fill and soon food is spilling out: fruit and bottles of wine and loaves of bread and slabs of cold cooked meats and wheels of cheese and whatever else a patron might think to ask for.

At the end of the rows of tables there is a wooden platform, with a small raised stage for musicians and plenty of room for dancers. Jack has found no one to play pipes but no matter, there are still musicians aplenty should anyone wish to dance. And he hopes they will, for what's a celebration without dancing?

Beyond the tables there is a small course set up for races, just a starting- and finish-lines marked off. There is a large rope for tug-of-war, various props like sacks for sack races and spoons for an egg-and-spoon race, and a pitch for bowls and another for playing horsehoes. He thought about playing tossing the caber but decided that might be pushing things a bit, even here.

Farthest from the bar proper is the bonfire, currently unlit. He pauses there and asks the fire within the wood to do no harm to anyone, that there will be no stray sparks or wayward ash to burn.

There is a great deal of magic at Milliways for him to draw upon and soon the party preparations meet with his satisfaction. He blesses the area before he goes back inside for some more rest before the party begins: that no one will be hurt in play or eat themselves sick, that not even a dancer's ankle be turned.

When he is done the morning fog is just beginning to burn off. It's going to be a beautiful day.

Comments

[bloodyrockgod]

Charlie comes out early with his guitar. The stage is a dead giveaway, so he situates himself and begins playing to the people in the lake and whoever's eating breakfast.

Any excuse to wear a kilt.

[notsoyoung.livejournal.com]

[OOC: *steals the computer while la famille are out at the supermarket; makes new Kilt icon; chucks David in*]

He'd ducked his head in earlier, though nobody saw him, and there were kilts. Kilts!

So here he was in his kilt, worried about knobbly knees, and heading up sit next to Charlie.

"Any excuse, eh?" he asks with a smile, and whether he's talking about the attire or the music, he's not saying.

[bloodyrockgod]

He stops playing long enough to tacklehug David.

"Any at all. Hi, stranger." He pats David's knee, which he doesn't find knobbly at all.

[notsoyoung.livejournal.com]

It's still quite cute to be tacklehugged by someone who reaches your chest.

But he wraps his arms around Charlie and deposits a very wet, very toothy smile-kiss on his cheek.

"Sorry I've been away so long again," he says first, because he really is. "How are you?"

[bloodyrockgod]

"Hangin' in there. Enjoying the kilt like nobody's business. Pity these never became more mainstream fastion--I could live in this."

[notsoyoung.livejournal.com]

He looks down at Charlie's kilt, and picks at it.

"Not quite big enough for a tent. What would you do if it was rainy, or God forbid windy?" he asks with a grin. "Are you flying free and easy?"

[bloodyrockgod]

"I am dressed like a true Scotsman," Charlie says with dignity. "If it gets rainy I'll just smile and bear it."

[notsoyoung.livejournal.com]

"I suppose Manchester's close enough you can get away with it, yes. I, however, am pure London bred, except for the part of me that's German, and I'm quite happily wearing underpants."

He smiles.

"You'll smile anyway."

A pat on his back.

"Now stop eyeing up my legs, Charlie Pace, I'm a taken man," he says with a laugh.

[bloodyrockgod]

"I'm just looking," Charlie protests. "You have marvellous knees."

[notsoyoung.livejournal.com]

He's laughing too hard, really, to do much else.

"Thank you," he finally manages, and pulls his kilt up, just a little, to show them off. "Always thought these ones were very knobbly. My old ones were golfer's knees."

[bloodyrockgod]

"You're so vain," Charlie says, nudging him. "They're fine knees."

[notsoyoung.livejournal.com]

He looks at them, and pokes them.

"Knobbly. But thank you."

He pokes Charlie's.

"Yours aren't so bad. Although typically English; you're very white, for someone who had been living on a desert island previous, my dear. I have the good fortune to have inherited this lovely caramel skin."

He grins.

[bloodyrockgod]

"I always wore jeans on the desert island. Mosquitos. Bleah." He points to his face. "And you missed the lovely sunburned effect I've acquired. Imagine this all over--I'd never sleep."

[watch-wait.livejournal.com]

"Sexy." Bartleby's blinking and ruffled. He's not keen on mornings.

[bloodyrockgod]

"Rather, isn't it?" Charlie says, grinning wickedly. He hugs Bartley and kisses him. "Hey. Glad to see you upright, love."

[watch-wait.livejournal.com]

"Very." He gets in a quick grope of Charlie's ass, and then leans his forehead against Charlie's. "I need coffee," he says solemnly.

[bloodyrockgod]

Charlie laughs at the grope and kisses Bartleby's nose. "Come on, then. Let's find you coffee. Seems like just about anything you want is here."

[watch-wait.livejournal.com]

"Why am I up? Remind me?"

He squinches his eyes shut. "Ohgod, the light."

[bloodyrockgod]

"Because it's a party and you've missed every party for months. And I asked you. Used my wicked masculine wiles.

"Come sit in the shade."

[watch-wait.livejournal.com]

"I had excuses," Bartleby says wistfully. "I like excuses."

He follows Charlie happily, though.

[bloodyrockgod]

"Wuss," Charlie says affectionately. He eyes the cornucopia with some trepidation. "Erm. Coffee?"

A pot appears, steaming and smelling richly of dark-brewed coffee. It is accompanied by mugs and a sugar bowl and tiny pitcher of cream.

[watch-wait.livejournal.com]

Bartleby pounces on it. "Nectar!"

[bloodyrockgod]

Charlie giggles at him and sits at a table in the shade, putting the guitar in his lap. He strums and sings.

Please to bend down for the one called the greenman
He wants to make you his bride
Please to bend down for the one called the greenman
Forever to him you're tied

And you know for a million years he has been your lover
He'll be a million more
And you know for a million years he has been your lover
Down through the skin to the core

Heed the greenman
Heed the greenman

Please to dance round for the one called the greenman
He wants to make you his child
Please to dance round for the one called the greenman
Dressed in the fruits of the wild

And you know for a million years he has been your father
He'll be a million more
And you know for a million years he has been your father
Run to his arms at the door

Lay your head, lay your head, lay your head, lay your head on
the greenman
Lay your head, lay your head with mine
Lay your head, lay your head, lay your head, lay your head on
the greenman
Build a bed out of oak and pine

See the greenman blow his kiss from high church wall
And unknowing church will amplify his call

[watch-wait.livejournal.com]

"Haven't heard that kind of song for many years." Bartleby brings his coffee to join Charlie.

[bloodyrockgod]

"It's by a band called XTC. Good stuff. Sang it for Claire the other day when she was telling me about becoming this bloke's follower."