fh_trips | Kellerman's Resort, Tuesday Morning and Afternoon, October 13th

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fall break 2009: kellerman's

Kellerman's Resort, Tuesday Morning and Afternoon, October 13th

The weather at Kellerman's continued to be favourable, as the autumn sun shone down on the fields and streams of the area. The staff of the resort were busy but happy to help, bustling through the corridors and courtyard.

The boards outside were advertising a white water rafting trip today, for anyone willing to go out and risk the rapids; for the less adventurous, a trip to see the Cascade Falls might just do the trick.

[[ Cottage and Room List | Rooms | Activities Barn | Indoor Activities | Outdoor Activities | White Water Rafting | Cascade Falls | OOC | OCD up! ]]

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For all that Merlin's decision to try and circumvent Arthur's sense of competition by destroying his swimwear was completely insane, he had had a point about how competitive Arthur was. Yes, even opposite a girl, although on a milder level.

Not that you could tell.

It was falling into a nice rhythm of roll-towards-Arthur-find-a-good-handle-give-it-a-twist-slam-it-back-to-Francine-hope-there-won't-be-real-injuries. "I think it counts," he said, "If simply for the danger of drowning."

"No way." Francine was not precisely competitive, not like that. She was just doing the game-equivalent of putting up her hands in front of her face and slapping away in hope that nothing landed, in a fight. "Let's face it, if we went by danger of injury we'd have to say it happens every time I get out of bed."

There was just enough of a pause to signify that Arthur was maybe taking that a little bit the wrong way before he shook it off - literally. "You fell out of a boat," he said, "I think that qualifies as a little bit beyond that."

"Pfft. I'm not sure I could drown if I tried." Francine, why do you -- WHAP! Airborne? Airborne? No. Whew. -- say things like that? The fates are already laughing at you. "I float."

The ball bounced off the wall less than an inch from the goal. "Yes," Arthur said, finally, carefully, "I suppose you do, at that."

"Now if we're talking about injuring other people..." Why? Francine? WHY would you possibly have such a sense of fair play that you feel the need to say that?

"I do not need," Arthur said, after careful consideration (which involved the ball drifting aimlessly across the playing field), "To know about how your ability to float has injured anyone else."

He had to draw the line somewhere. Francine's breasts causing undue harm to Merlin would be it.

"...I was going for a combination of squirrels and my elbow. No floating involved." See, because she couldn't read narrative, he was spared the knowledge that yes, there had been breasts involved. Indirectly.

Oh look, a ball rolling slow enough that she could almost hit it with some precision.

"... Yes."

He had at last managed the facepalming-and-batting-back-a-ball routine. "Thank you. For that."

"Anytime."

THWACK.

Near-smothering didn't count, right?

It did in Arthur's creative mind, which hadn't quite managed to dislodge itself out of yesterday and Merlin in a pool and just.

Ngh.

Thwack straight back at you. "This is starting to get a bit monotonous."

Not really, since he was still trying to win, but it sounded like a good distraction.

"And now you know why I'm not into sports." Ahaha, no, Francine. That's not why and you know it.

Still, if he was bored, she could try for airborne... Just hopefully not airborne enough to completely leave the table.

"You don't have the build," he said, dismissively, "It would further increase your chance of--" Duck, Arthur. Duck. "--Injury."

...That was off the table, yes.

"...Sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Arthur said, drily, his head lifting back up after that very instinctive and very well-trained-in duck. "Thank you, Francine."

"...Why don't we count that as you winning?" Before somebody's nose got broken.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but restrained himself enough to say, "If you insist. Then by all means."

She was capable of picking up on a mood, if not necessarily recognizing the reasons for its existence. "I bet I can improve your week in four words or less." What. It was worth a try.

"I'm sure you can," he said, bending down to try and retrieve the item Francine had just so carelessly shot off into the blue yonder.

"You know it works better if you don't believe me, right?"

She was not watching the bending.

Oh fine, she was watching the bending. She was only human.

At least it improved her week?

Arthur bared his teeth in something that was halfway into a smile when he came back up. "It was a challenge," he said, "Not an acceptance, but take it as you wish."

The ball bounced back onto the table.

He was also fairly sure she was watching, but he really couldn't blame her, so he shrugged that off.

"Chuck Bass isn't here."

Arthur blinked at her for an instant or two.

Then he snorted. "There's that," he allowed, gracefully. "Here's to hoping he's somewhere altogether more miserable."

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Kellerman's Resort, Tuesday Morning and Afternoon, October 13th

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