Tilicend Beach

OOC: Ruby/Oliver interaction planned. BIC:

Oliver Vandrose

It wasn't often that he stopped here; he spent a majority of his free time in the forest just behind him, and the beach beyond was just a place that held memories, none of which belonged to him. He could see Marianne William's home just down the stretch of pebbly shore, and walked the opposite way -- a kind of show of respect for her privacy, which she apparently liked. The beach was quiet, peaceful; the waves interrupted the would-be silence with a calm, mellow whooshing sound, which instantly set him at ease. After his long day, he was thankful.

He found a piece of driftwood, abandoned on the rocks by the current and white-washed with salt residue, and sat down; he leaned against the roots that stuck up in varying angles and degrees and shoved his fists deep into the pockets of his gray tweed coat. He glanced out towards the jagged cliffs standing up out of the water, like rugged black sentinels; protectors of the sea, of Tilicend Beach, and Eaz. He wondered if, from a distance, they looked like abandoned chess pieces, left behind by some giant hand, bored witht eh game that maybe offered no challenge.

He leaned his head against the tree, and sighed. Why couldn't school be like this - quiet, alone, private? It seemed that would be asking to much.

Ruby Gehringer

Ruby chewed on the end of her pen as she stared down at the open notebook on her lap. She had figured that the atmosphere of Tilicend Beach would help to coax her writing muse out into the open, but so far she hadn't had any luck. She looked out at the water lapping at the shore and sighed. A gust of wind from across the water blew her new pinstriped fedora off of her head, but she caught it just in time and put it back in place.

Ruby impatiently tapped her pen onto the notebook, willing inspiration to come to her. She shuddered, but not from the cold--she was wearing her black velvet blazer and her newly-finished purple fingerless gloves with one of her favorite skirts, the one she had dubbed her Goth Bride skirt (the Goth Bride skirt was layers and layers of black gauzy fabric, which poufed out and reached the tops of her shoes), and her trenchcoat was lying on the ground next to her. No, she wasn't cold. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was lurking behind her, in the shadows of Eaz Forest, watching her.

To take her mind off of it, she reached into her book bag lying on the rocky ground next to her and grabbed her iPod and hit shuffle, hoping the music would make her relax. Evanescence's "Missing" came on, and she grinned, singing along.

"Even though I'm the sacrifice,
You won't try for me, not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone missing me?
Please, please forgive me,
But I won't be home--"

There. There it was. The unmistakable sound of a footstep.

Someone was out there.

Ruby yanked one of the headphones from her ear and whirled around, her eyes searching the shadows. "He-Hello?" she called out hesitantly.

Nathaniel "Nate" Grant

He spread out a bunch of plain white beach towels (they looked like a perfectly square blanket, the kind that people had romantic picnics on, when he was done) by the shore (near enough so that they could spread out their legs and feel the water wash up on their toes if they wanted, but far enough so that the towels didn't get too wet). He put a small vase of with a single red rose in it on the center. He put a basket of French bread and a plate of butter and two butter knives near it, and a bottle of champagne near that, and two champagne flutes near that. Nate topped it off with some Stoli and cigarettes on the side, just in case Blair felt like being a little wilder.

Hey. Give the boy a break. It's the thought that counts.

Look at you, Nate. Making things all romantic and such. This girl has you whipped already! he thought. But he didn't mind much. Blair was so hot and so cool that it was worth it, and he doubted this would fly with her if he just met her here with a random towel and some cigarettes.

Nate was wearing only his swimming trunks, but he had a shirt with him in case Blair didn't wear her swimsuit, which he really hoped she did. He was dying to see what Blair looked like a bikini.

Blair Vanderbilt

When she got to the beach, the first thing that she saw was Nate in his swimming trunks. Blair looked down at her pink Chloe dress, that clung to her in all the right places. And that she wasn't going to wear tonight. At least she'd worn back-up underneath said dress. She unzipped the dress, stripping down to her pink Missoni bikini, handing it to her driver. "You can go now," she told her driver and he nodded and left. Blair took out the pink sarong she was holding and put it on. Perfect.

Then she shook back her hair and made her way over to Nate, who was busy putting stuff on his blanket. When she got there, she felt a surge of satisfaction - Nate had put a lot of effort into this setting. He obviously had it bad for her. "Oh my God, Nate, this is amazing!" she exclaimed, playing the role of 'pleased girlfriend' perfectly. Only they weren't actually together yet. But then again, they sort of were. It was an unofficial thing, which made sense, since they just met each other.

Blair untied her sarong, letting it fall to the ground in a mini-striptease - very G-rated, but it definitely got guys' attention. "I think this deserves a toast," she said in a flirtatious voice, kneeling and clinking her glass against Nate's. "To this date. May it live up to my amazingly high expectations," she said and had a few sips of champagne. She sat down next to Nate, stretching her legs out so that she could feel the water washing up on her toes, and sighed, laying her head on his shoulder.

All absolutely calculated, of course, in that skilled way that made it seem thoroughly uncalculated that few could truly pull off. Blair had the cards, and, well, she definitely knew how to play them...

Nathaniel "Nate" Grant

When he heard Blair's voice exclaim, "Oh my God, Nate, this is amazing!" he turned his head so fast he could have gotten whiplash. Or something. Blair was wearing a pink bikini (holy sh** yes, Nate thought) with a matching sarong. The sarong was tied so that it revealed a hint of leg as she moved. And when she let it fall to the ground, well, it was all he could do to keep those pretty blue eyes of his from popping right out of his head. Blair stood in front of him in all her glory, with her flat stomach and luscious curves, like some kind of goddess or something, before sitting down tantalizingly close to him. If Nate wanted her before, it was nothing compared to how much he wanted her now. A smile came to his face. "Hey. Thanks," he said, finally getting his composure back. "You look beautiful tonight."

"I think this deserves a toast," Blair said in a flirtatious tone of voice, holding out her glass. Nate poured her a flute of champagne, then poured himself one. "To this date. May it live up to my amazingly high expectations," she said and they clinked glasses. She had a few lady-like sips, while Nate downed the whole thing in one gulp, and then she stretched out her legs and put her head on Nate's shoulder and sighed.

Now normally this would have been the cue for Nate to lift her chin up and start kissing her, but he thought it was a little soon for that, so instead he stretched out his legs and brushed his foot up and down her calf. It was all he could do not to kiss her - his teenage boy hormones were in full flow - but he settled for putting his arm around her and stroking her perfect, dark brown curls. "You have the softest hair," he whispered.

And then he got sort of scared. Was he, Nathaniel Grant, becoming a romantic, of all things? So he changed his tone of voice and his subject, clearing his throat in a very manly sort of way. "So, what movies do you like?" he asked.

Blair Vanderbilt

She had to give Nate props for not using the opportunity she (accidentally) gave him to kiss her; instead he stroked her hair, which felt oh, God, so nice - I could get used to this, she thought - and he murmured, "You have the softest hair." You have the sexiest voice, she thought even though it was a lie because he and Oliver were tied for sexiest voice as well as prettiest eyes. Actually, she wasn't sure who she thought was better-looking, Nate or Oliver. Sure, Oliver was a vampire and all, but Nate was still just as hot, and he stroked her hair in the way no one had since her father left for France. She closed her eyes and felt the water washing on her toes, content as a cat in front of a fireplace - a rare circumstance for Blair.

Seriously, screw Oliver. Her thoughts came to her in waves, similar to the ones that were washing up on her toes. Who needs him? He never stroked my hair like this. He makes me feel like crap. Nate makes me feel good. Blair then proceeded to push all thoughts of Oliver out of her head, complimentary or negative. It was remarkably cleansing.

Although, she couldn't help thinking after she was done with this internal cleansing, it would be nice if he would like me just so I can say, 'No way, you're too late, serves you right.'

And then, once she pushed that thought off a cliff, she geared herself up to enjoy a perfectly romantic date with Nate.

This is how it should be, she thought.

Nate's hand paused on her hair - no, don't stop, she thought - and he cleared his throat, a deep, loud sound. "So, what movies do you like?" he said.

Sort of scared, she thought. I can tell. That's cute! Might as well humor him. "Anything with Audrey Hepburn, or Cary Grant, or people like that, in it. All the classics. Breakfast At Tiffany's is my favorite movie of all time," she said, her eyes glowing in the candlelight. "It's the best movie ever made."

OOC: Sorry Poppy! BIC:

Oliver Vandrose

It was surprisingly silent out here, for which he was glad. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against a gnarled branch, letting the briny, salty smell of the sea wash over him. If only he could sleep, he was sure he would have drifted right there; the quiet whoosh of the waves lapping against the pebbly shore was far more relaxing than anything he could have imagined.

But he should have known it wouldn't last long. A branch snapped from somewhere in the forest, sending him flying into a standing position. It was only a small sound, nothing exazctly close and immediately dangerous, but knowing Eaz, it was good to be prepared. His eyes scanned the immediate forest and saw nothing. His hands balled into fists at his side. The sound didn't happen again, though, so he wondered if he was paranoid. Probably, a voice replied -- one that sounded irritatingly like Blair Vanderbilt. Why are you imaging her voice? He shook his head, his hair mussing itself even more than normal.

Another sound made his ears prickle, and he turned to face southwards down the beach. Someone was singing. It was clear as a bell to his extraordinary hearing, so he wasn't sure how far down the beach the girl was. Interested, he turned and trudged in the same direction from which came the voice, moving faster than he probably should have, given that there was an unknown soul out here who most likely didn't know what he was. Blair was the only one, along with Sheriff Dkain. If Blair was out there. . . he'd rather not run into her now. Not after this morning; she'd probably lay into him with some diatribe about how rude it was of him to publicly humilate her like that. He came to a halt.

On a driftwood bench much like his had been, a girl sat with a notebook and pen in front of her. Ruby Gehringer, he could tell from her peculiar clothing. He could see the headphones in her ears from where he stood, and she was singing a song he didn't recognize. It was beautiful, though, so he took careful, quiet steps into the forest, where he could listen without bothering her.

He hadn't taken more than a dozen steps into the deep shadow of Eaz when his foot came down on a branch in a moment of carelessness and she yanked her headphones out and spun, her eyes searching. "He-hello?" she called, her voice loud yet slightly shaky. He sighed, retraced his steps back out onto the gray sunlight of the beach.

"Hey, Ruby," he said, just loud enough that she'd be able to hear. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Nathaniel "Nate" Grant

Blair's eyes glowed in the candlelight as she answered him, but Nate could hardly register this in his mind (however, he did hear something about Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant and Breakfast At Tiffany's, so it wasn't like he wasn't paying attention or anything). The reason why he was so distracted was because that Oliver guy was, like, there. At the beach. He wasn't looking at him, but still. Is he spying on us? Nate thought. Well, he thought, might as well give him a show.

Nate leaned down and looked into Blair's huge brown eyes that he thought always looked a little sad when she wasn't going all Ice Queen on someone's ass - but that could have just been the pot - with his own blue eyes. Their eyelashes were almost touching - partly because they both had really long ones and partly because they were really close - and their lips were inches apart.

"I love when your eyes glow like that," he said, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. "You have really great eyes." Holy crap, this feels cheesy. Oh, well. Girls dig it, he thought.

And then it occurred to him that he could just kiss her. Right then. At the beach, on their towel-blanket-thing, with the water washing up on their toes and their eyes glowing in the candelight and the stars shining and all that romantic sh**. "Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Blair Vanderbilt

"Breakfast At Tiffany's is my favorite movie of all time. It's the best movie ever made..." Blair trailed off as she realized that Nate was tantalizingly close to her; their eyelashes were nearly touching and their lips were barely inches apart. She was staring right into his blue eyes, which looked exactly like the ocean - not as it was at that moment, but during the day, when it was a perfect shade of light blue, somehow looking bottomless. Just like Nate's eyes. Right now the sea was sort of like Oliver's eyes - deeper, with a silvery sheen because of the moonlight. But she didn't want to think about Oliver's eyes. It was Nate that was right in front of her, Nate that wanted her, Nate that made her feel like the queen that she was. Is he going to kiss me? she wondered. More importantly, am I going to let him kiss me?

She was just about to weigh the pros and cons of letting him kiss her (pros: it would probably feel nice, she pretty much wanted to, it might be so great that it would push the memory of Oliver's kiss right out of her mind. Cons: he might use too much tongue - or, alternatively, not enough tongue - it might seem a little slutty, it might be worse than her kiss with Oliver and make her want Oliver instead of Nate and screw her up some more) when Nate murmured softly, "I love when your eyes glow like that." He brushed her cheek with his fingers, leaving the part of her cheek he touched feeling warm. I am letting him kiss me, she decided. "You have really great eyes."

"So do you," she whispered.

And then, after a small pause, Nate whispered, "Can I kiss you?"

She felt her stomach do a couple of backflips as she nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yes." Blair leaned in for her first kiss with Nate.

It was extremely different from Oliver's kiss. That one was full of desperation on her part, and she had no idea what he was feeling at the time. This one was exactly like one of the scenarios she had played in her mind when imagining a perfect first kiss - the setting, the way Nate kissed, the way her hand cured delicately around his neck - everything was perfect.

Maybe Nate and I were just supposed to happen, she thought. Maybe we're made for each other.

Maybe if Oliver decided he liked me right now, he would be too late.

Maybe.

OOC: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!

BIC:

Ruby Gehringer

Someone was there. Someone else was there, in the forest, watching her from under the cover of the trees. Her heart pounded in her chest. Rumors had been growing in town recently, rumors of strange sounds being heard under cover of darkness in Eaz Forest, of disappearances of animals...of something unknown and unseen, but felt. She almost smiled to herself as a Lord of the Rings reference took hold in her mind. "Rumor grew of a shadow in the East...whispers of a nameless fear..." she murmured quietly.

Another sound, closer this time. "Who's there? Hello?" she called shrilly.

Within an instant, Oliver Vandrose appeared out of the trees. Ruby jumped, her hand on her heart. "It's you!" she gasped. "Oliver, you scared me half to death!"

"Hey, Ruby," he said softly."I didn't mean to startle you." Ruby shrugged, her fear ebbing away. "Oh, it's okay, I guess. It's my own fault, kind of. I thought coming here would be perfect--a great place to write, you know? But I kinda freaked myself out, I guess. People have been saying weird things about the forest lately, and my imagination kind of got the better of me." She grinned sheepishly. "Sorry you had to see me make a fool of myself, jumping at shadows. Still..." she studied the forest behind Oliver thoughtfully. So peaceful, and yet so oppressive at the same time. "It does make you wonder..."

Nathaniel Grant

The kiss was proper but sexy, like something in a movie or something. One of those old black and white films. Nate could feel Blair's little ruby ring pressing into the back of his neck. That ring was one of the first things he'd ever noticed about her, actually, after he'd gotten over the initial shock at finding such a hot girl (the hottest one he'd seen in person, maybe) in such a small town, because it and her lips were so red against her perfectly pale skin and her dark hair and eyes and black clothes.

One of the things about Blair that he liked was that she always looked perfect. Literally none of the other girls in boarding school, let alone the girls he'd passed by in the hallway at BNHS (and he was pretty sure he had seen all of them by now, considering how small the school was and everything), had measured up. Like, they all had something wrong with them if you looked at them for a while (which might be why he had never been able to hold down a girlfriend for too long), but he hadn't seen anything wrong with Blair, ever, and he was pretty sure he couldn't, even if he stared at her for a really long time and analyzed her face and everything.

Not that he was about to do that. Nate was pretty hot, but he wasn't really big into the whole thinking thing. Most of the time he was too stoned, anyway, even if he had to actually drive to get his pot now.

Also he liked that she was so prim and proper all the time. It just made him want her more - she had that whole schoolgirl thing going on.

When they stopped kissing, he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Oliver was still there, talking to some frumpy-looking girl. The nerve of that guy. "Hey, what do you say we get out of here?" Nate said. "I could take you to Tiffany's."

He got up and pulled on a shirt and held out his hand for Blair, and he held her close (partly so he could feel the curve of her waist against his hip and partly so she wouldn't see Oliver) as they left the beach.

Nathaniel Grant has left Tilicend Beach.

Blair Vanderbilt

"Hey, what do you say we get out of here?" Nate said after they gently ended their kiss. They were still so close that their eyelashes were almost touching.

"Sure," she said breathily, in her best Audrey Hepburn voice.

"I could take you to Tiffany's."

Blair smiled at him in that dreamy way that Audrey was so famous for, and said brightly, again in her best, breathy, Audrey voice, "I'd like that."

He got up and held out a hand to help her up, and then, after he had put on a shirt and she had pulled on her pink Chloe dress, he pulled her close. Their bodies fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Blair was experienced enough to know that this was actually pretty rare. She could still feel the comforting warmth of Nate's body against her own cool skin as they left the beach.

Blair has left the beach.

Nathaniel Grant

Nate, as much as he hated to admit it, was bummed. Like, really bummed. About Blair, naturally. He really thought they were good together. He knew he really liked her a lot, and he thought she liked him a lot as well. But apparently he was wrong. Apparently she did like that Oliver guy she had mentioned.

It was so effing unfair. Oliver hadn't put in any effort to even try to win Blair over. Unless, of course, he had and Nate just hadn't known about it. But he still got her. Or at least, Nate assumed he was the reason she had dumped him. Everything was going great with them, after all. Or so he thought.

As it always was when Nate was feeling down or if thoughts were crowding his head or whatever, he rolled himself a nice big fatty and started smoking. And, as it always was, it took the edge right off. God knows he could use it.

Oliver Vandrose

The woods were relaxingly noisy today. He could hear the rustling of animals moving about, the chirping of birds in the distance. He had to strain to hear the rush of the water over the rocky shore on the beach.

He decided to run the remaining mile to find the beach. It'd be nice to spend a relaxing day there, instead of stressing himself out, looking for trouble.

How long had it been since he'd been able to truly relax? He and Ross had gone to Mt. Rainier this weekend to hunt -- finally, he thought -- but even then there was a stresful knot at the back of his neck. He couldn't stand being away from Bela Nombre, for even two days. He was so afraid something bad would happen, as unlikely as it seemed. He was so afraid something bad would happen to Blair, as unrational as his concern was (though, Blair seemed to have a knack for finding trouble. Oliver seemed to recall a certain party molester she's found herself involved with. . .)

He reached the beach in five minutes, taking a slower pace than usual. He slowed to a walk once he reached the forest's edge. He stared out over the water, his eyes tracing the shape of the jagged rocks jutting out of the sea. He barely took notice of the beach as he walked.

He smelled something different, something that didn't belong to the beach. Smoke?

He peeled his eyes away from the sea and searched the shore line. He didn't have to look far. Just fifteen feet away, facing the opposite way, was Nate, smoking something. Oliver rolled his eyes before approaching the guy.

"You know that's bad for you, right? So I can skip that whole lecture?"

Nathaniel Grant

Nate took a long drag of his joint and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to go blissfully blank. He had almost forgotten about his problems. But someone out there (and he was pretty sure he knew who that someone was. Hint: his name started with an O and he was pretty sure he wanted to pummel that guy into a pulp) apparently didn't want that, because a voice interrupted him. "You know that's bad for you, right? So I can skip that whole lecture?"

He blew out the smoke before turning to the guy who said that to him. It was Oliver (of course). He had known even before he'd turned around who it was - that annoyingly smooth voice had tipped him off straight away. Nate wondered if anyone aside from him had ever figured out what a little bastard this guy actually was. Blair definitely hadn't, judging by her decision to pick Oliver over Nate.

"Don't even try to act like you care about my well-being or whatever," he said. "If anything, you're the reason I'm smoking right now."

Nate stood up, dropping his joint carelessly on the ground. "What did you do to deserve her, anyway?" he asked. "What did you do to make her pick you? And don't even try to act all innocent. She may not have said you were the reason, but I know you are. I'm not stupid."

Oliver Vandrose

Nate blew a smoke ring before turning around. "Don't even try to act like you care about my well-being or whatever," he said disdainfully. "If anything, you're the reason I'm smoking right now."

Oliver rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Look, Nate, don't blame me for your problems." He shot Nate an annoyed look. "I didn't light that for you, or hand you the joint."

But Nate didn't answer; instead he tossed the joint onto the ground and turned on Oliver. "What did you do to deserve her, anyway?" he said angrily. "What did you do to make her pick you? And don't even try to act all innocent. She may not have said you were the reason, but I know you are. I'm not stupid."

Oliver stared at Nate, his fists balled into fists but remaining resolutely in his pocket. "What are you talking about? Is this to do with Blair?" He furrowed a brow at Nate. "And what do you mean, I'm the reason? Reason for what?"