fh_trips | Copacabana Palace, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Sunday Afternoon and Evening

Entry tags:

spring break 2012: rio de janeiro

Copacabana Palace, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Sunday Afternoon and Evening

The Copacabana Hotel was certainly... statuesque. The front facade stood high and formal in the middle of lovely Rio, though, like a mullet, all the fun was in the back - at the beachside, where fun and sun would be waiting come tomorrow.

The Fandom contingent had managed to get their hands on some beachside rooms, though it was probably best not to ask who or what had made this much money change hands. Because it wasn't like anyone running this gig had any interesting off-shore accounts...

[[ ocd up! | rooms | the pool | the spa | samba parade | arco do teles and beyond | ooc ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Did Cara say anything about Denna's ability to run a brothel?

"She wasn't running it at the same time." Not unless she'd have wanted to be laughed out of the Mord'Sith. "And there's a difference between making people happy and peddling in flesh."

"Not if you do it right," Bruce joked.

"But you're making the mistake of assuming Denna was capable of doing it right." Again, no history there, nope, none.

"I just expect her to be a professional," Bruce said.

Hey, look, Bruce, you made Cara laugh. Enjoy the moment, who knows when you'll see it again.

"I'm glad I could entertain you," Bruce said.

"Sorry," Cara said, once she'd managed to rein her laughter in. "But if you'd ever met her, you'd understand."

"It sounds like it's better if that never happens," Bruce said.

"I wouldn't worry about that." Since she'd fallen off a cliff right after Cara had shot her and all. "Besides, why would you need to, I know everything she did and I'm better at it," she added in the same tone she'd use for saying the sky was blue.

It was for the best that she never mention that to Bruce. "Modest, as always," Bruce teased.

It's not like she'd used a gun, and it wasn't like Denna hadn't deserved it.

"If you're not trying to make people underestimate you, why pretend I'm not proud of my skills," Cara said, and made a show of examining her nails, you know the ones currently covered by her gloves. "Though if you don't believe me I suppose I could find some way to prove it to you."

Which would be terrible, just terrible.

This was Mr Killing Is Never An Option, of course.

"Oh, I believe you. I have a pretty good memory and a couple experiences to think about," Bruce said.

Cara had held that view once. When she was nine. Bruce didn't want to know where it had gotten her.

"Oh, I'm sure you've thought long and hard about them," she teased.

Strangely, it was a view that solidified for Bruce when he was eight.

"Not too long. That would be tacky," Bruce said, sidestepping whatever it was she was suggesting, surely he didn't know.

Yes, but Bruce had had someone around who actually understood the meaning of duty of care. Cara wasn't so lucky.

Oh, of course not, just like Cara couldn't possibly have meant anything at all when she replied with "Don't sell yourself short."

"I'm not. I just have plenty to occupy my time aside from lingering on thoughts of past activities," Bruce said, again, in a very classy way, relatively speaking.

It was indeed a very classy way of putting it. "So you'd be interested in new experiences, rather than contenting yourself with memories?"

Cara could be subtle, she just usually preferred not to be.

This actually brought him to something he'd been trying to talk around tonight.

"Normally," Bruce said. "Although I've been thinking recently, and I think I'm going to be cutting down on the amount of new experiences I have."

Last week had gotten Bruce thinking about a couple of things.

Cara took a moment to finish her drink.

"Well, if you want your life more boring, that's your choice," she said, shrugging, her tone nowhere near as light and teasing she was aiming for. "But it's not like you have to stop right away."

That tone was why Bruce had been trying to talk around the topic. It wasn't quite the first day of vacation conversation he wanted for anyone to have to deal with. "It's for the best if I do," he said.

Just rip that bandage off, Bruce. You're this far already, just yank it.

I hope you liked kicked puppies, Bruce, because that's exactly what Cara's expression resembled.

"I don't suppose you'd bother to tell me what exactly I've done wrong." The sardonic tone was a feeble imitation at best.

That was the thing with having no sexual insecurities whatsoever, but a sense of self-worth with its foundations built on wet sand. When you got kicked to the curb for no discernible reason, you didn't start by looking for problems with the kicker.

Bruce's voice dropped to a whisper so anyone else around couldn't hear him.

"You didn't do anything wrong. You're one of my closest friends in Fandom. You know me better than most of our classmates, and that's because I trust you," Bruce said. And if she thought he was secretive with her, that said a lot about how he was with everyone else.

"But I've had reason to reconsider how I want to lead my personal life during the rest of my time at school. Unfortunately, that means things have to change. Anything else is unfair to anyone I might accidentally string along."

Cara dropped her voice to the same level, since she didn't want the attention any more than he did. "Bruce, I'm not on a string." At least not one attached to him. "You're hardly the first time I've done this with someone I considered a friend and I don't want, need or expect strings." Otherwise she would never have slept with him.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you, but I doubt anyone on the island is delusional enough to expect strings without you actually saying they're there."

Well, at least she didn't look like a kicked puppy any more? A somewhat confused puppy that was considering potentially nipping something, but not kicked.

"I'm hoping you're right about that at the moment," Bruce said. It would certainly make any other notices that he might have to give go a little more smoothly than they might otherwise. "But it's also an impression I might want to change."

Face, meet palm. You'll be good friends. "Or you could just tell whoever you want strings with you want to be entangled, and fuzzy little drunks will ensure the entire island knows you're off-limits."

If there wasn't an actual person to spur this on, she was going to throw a rock at him for dragging up her eroded self-worth. A big rock.

Edited 2012-02-20 06:57 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Copacabana Palace, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Sunday Afternoon and Evening

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz

Re: Rio de Janeiro - Bar Luiz