( oh stelle it's so joever... these people are too serious. their swag is too strong. they'll kill each other—

also what's that look for?????? it's aventurine's turn to look around, between sunday's quiet accusation, acheron being the black cat with bright eyes watching in the corner, and stelle, apparently lumped together with him as Most Likely To Enjoy Walking Into A Tentacle Monster.

first things first - he's just going to whisper something in secrecy to stelle: ) A thousand chips. I'm totally betting that he was caught by one.

( ahem. btw no offense taken, acheron. )

Mr. Sunday, surely you don't think all of us have died. Or rather, I thought 'Death' didn't exist in your perfect Penacony? So even you don't believe in your own paradise. ( just saying! ) Ah, but isn't this too serious a talk for a beach day? The sun is high in the sky, the water is pleasant, and we have even managed to get the esteemed Mr. Sunday in a swimsuit. Shouldn't we be enjoying ourselves, instead of dampening the mood altogether?