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[h3][color=cadetblue]Rebekah Cross[/color][/h3]
[@Plank Sinatra] [@HereComesTheSnow] [@Write] [@NeoAC] [@Altered Tundra]
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[color=6ecff6]"Hey, [i]Jaime Lannister![/i] You wanna fucking suck my dick, or what?"[/color]

[color=cadetblue][i]Already?[/i][/color]

A single leg appeared, barely visible, behind the cab of Jonas’ truck. Then it lowered and its opposite number went up. Then, very slowly, their owner started to prop herself up on her elbows.

With no room in the Subaru, and space at a premium in the cab, Rebekah had made herself a nook in the space between the subs and the cab, nestled amongst the various wires and cables. On a night so nice she preferred it, feeling the wind muss her hair and the speakers send rumblings through her very bones. Strange to call it peaceful but it was certainly contentment. The only thing missing was a pleasant sun overhead, but the moon’s borrowed light did just fine. It was still summer for a little while yet, warm enough to make the evening air refreshing and not too cool. Warm enough to swim, even, accounting for Rhea on lifeguard duty. Olympic swimmers were in more danger than anyone swimming with that girl on duty. 

As long as she liked you.

Bekah had no such assignment (fortunate, for most she would let drown) and hadn’t since she assisted in wiring the speakers into the back of the truck. Dallas knew music, but technology was more her wheelhouse than his. Still less than it had been Zaheen’s, but wiring up speakers couldn’t be much easier. She’d even checked the connections on the way over, running grounded wire through her fingers as carefully as her own hair. Not as premium as they would have been in his own car, perhaps, but no one other than the children of Apollo would have ear enough to tell the difference. Or, as the son of the sun himself would put it, they were tasteless. 

She shared a brief glance in the rearview mirror with her fellow freeloader while Relo gave out instructions, indulging in an absent shrug. About exactly what mutual matter, hard to tell. Perhaps it was their company. The Nyx children were a little… off, and the Dionysus girl was most certainly on her no-fly-list. The rest seemed alright, though. The ones she knew. As sure as gravity, they’d all begun to be drawn towards Dallas’ offerings of drink and music. Not that everyone seemed to have brought their own, as he’d instructed.

Honestly. It wasn’t like fake IDs were difficult, people. Well, maybe for some. But it wasn’t as though they presented a challenge. Or that there weren’t individuals on campus willing to furnish one, for money. Not that that was a proper [i]business[/i] model, and would of course be illegal and nothing that she would ever condone. If anyone had ever thought to ask and perhaps dropped a little money nearby, well, that was perfectly innocent, wasn’t it?

Anyway.

She bristled, just a little, at the way the Artemis girl glanced towards the pickup bed when she mentioned pong. She had fussed over her little nook, and stashed her book and supplies there. The daughter of Athena would not tolerate its removal, but she knew Dallas would tolerate the speakers’ removal even less. So comment was unnecessary. 

[color=cadetblue]”Marston,”[/color] She said by way of greeting, leaned backwards around the cab to better see her compatriots. [color=cadetblue]”Good to see you.”[/color]

Rebekah didn’t see her brother anywhere, but she would be surprised if he didn’t attend. She’d yet to see him in person, and she felt remiss for the oversight. This would be a good opportunity to remedy that. Any thought of remaining in the truck bed ended when Dana was assigned to security, and thus would leave the top of the cab very shortly. So she slid her sandals back onto her feet and rolled dexterously over the side of the truck bed, allowing her spine to straighten to its proper length for the first time in… An hour, at least, judging by the series of pops. Comfortable curled though she was, a 4x4 was not suitable for prolonged rest. A quick rake and shake with her hands restored her hair’s form, too, though she’d have to pull it back if she felt like visiting the lake. A distinct possibility, which was why she’d worn her swimsuit underneath her shirt and shorts. Her sweater wasn’t [i]quite[/i] ideal lake party attire.

Idly, she considered whether or not she would have to drive the truck back. Depended on how many Jonas had, she supposed. She reached back into her nook and withdrew a six pack, her personal stock and contribution to BYOB, perfectly legally obtained [i]of course[/i]. She’d deposit a few in the first cooler she came by, and not care much if someone swiped one. She had more that she would keep for herself, and perhaps for friends. 

[color=cadetblue]”I’ll have as much fun as I please, Psomas,”[/color] She stated a touch severely, undercut both by the faint hints of a smile playing about the edges of her face and by the way she dropped to a knee to stroke each of the miniature Cerberus at her feet’s heads in turn. [color=cadetblue]”But I will try, as long as you promise not to drown me if I set foot in the water. That would be unfortunate.”

“Want a beer, Marcy? Anyone? Personal stock, one time offer, ask not the means of its acquisition.”[/color]