<3> Much of the daytime was spent getting everything on the beach in order, but as the sun began to head for the horizon, it seemed as if almost every young adult in Stormwind had flooded the beach in small groups. By the time the sun was half gone, the beach was practically at capacity with partygoers running to and fro in various states of undress. Kegs of ale and mead were tapped by a crew of dwarves who had joined the party, and several night elves had portioned off some of the beach for partiers who didn't much care to even wear bathing suits. That portion seemed to grow almost exponentially until they were more or less partying on a nude beach. Despite the fun and the controlled chaos, Summer had taken to simply hanging around with Lysia, drink in hand, and taking care to distribute bits of the potent fireweed as patrons came looking for it. It wasn't until nearly nightfall that she dared to get more liberal with it, concerned that a cloud of the smoke over the beach would have given them away in daylight. Fireweed had quite a distinct odor as well, not to mention euphoria that came over those who chose to inhale its burnt remnants. It was nearing 11 when the tank-ini-clad Summer found she'd given out all but one box, and in a moment of selfishness she decided to keep it tucked away and take another draw from some she'd already lit. The inner circle she sat in mostly consisted of a few of her peers who had organized the party, while other admirers and friends tried to toe the line between crowding them and socializing. Summer knew most of them well -she was a notable figure herself being a blood elf living among humans- and there were a few she tended to gravitate toward just for conversation's sake. One male in question, however, dared to squeeze his way through the crowd and weasel himself a seat right next to her as she was chatting with Lysia. As she turned away for a drag, the elf flinched in shock to find this muscular male sidled up next to her, his arm draped behind her as if they were best friends. "Hey there, Summer. Exceptional party, hmm?" Summer's green eyes narrowed a bit. "Hey, Landon. Glad you're having fun," she returned flatly. "Eh, I wouldn't say 'fun' just yet... but we could be," he echoed as he let his unspoiled hand gently touch the elf's shoulder... ... only to be immediately swatted away. Summer may have been quite thoroughly stoned, but she'd been trained well enough that she could clear her head whenever the moment needed it. "Nope. Don't touch me Landon. Not gonna happen." "Aw, babe, c'mon, don't even! Why you gotta give me a hard time?" he returned, fully aware that many pairs of eyes were settling on the boisterous male. "Because I don't like you, I never liked you, and your parents didn't teach you the meaning of the word 'no'," she replied much more curtly. "Now beat it." For a moment's hesitation, it was clear Landon was starting to reconsider his move... aaaand then he tried to touch her shoulder [i]again[/i]. "Aww, don't make me beg, Sum-" No sooner did the hand touch her shoulder than Summer spun toward him at blinding speed. Even from her seated pose, the elf's impressive flexibility allowed her knee to rocket upward and around, crashing squarely between Landon's absurdly-spread legs. Had it been silent, one might have heard the popping sound of Landon's testicles receding into his body. The strike was accompanied with a husky war cry, shortly followed by a hop and a backstep to distance herself from him. "I said [i][b]NO![/b][/i]" A mixture of cheers and boos rang out from the crowd as Landon crumpled over wordlessly, clutching at his crushed crotch as a few partygoers swarmed him to either help or ridicule him. "What the fuck?" another nearby man cried. "You need to chill the hell out!" The guy closest to him simply shrugged. "First time?" The first man shot the second a dirty look. "What do you mean?" "It ain't a Lysia party until Summer's crushed at least one cock. You don't fuck with her. If a guy can't understand the word 'no', he deserves it." Summer gladly left the inner circle to find brief respite in the nearest stall. She hadn't come to fight, but the chatterboxes weren't entirely wrong. Seldom did she attend a party without having to injure someone who got too handsy or really pissed her off. Moments later, Lysia tapped on the stall wall. "You okay, hon?" she called out. "Yeah... fine," Summer gasped and poked her long-eared head out from within. "I think I probably should get going." Lysia offered her friend a sad smile. "Not feeling it?" "Nah, not tonight. Got a lot on my mind." "No worries," the mage returned and parted the curtains to hug her friend goodbye. "Thank you so much for all the help today. Thankfully we didn't need the firewo-" "WESTFALL GUARD! EVERYONE CEASE YOUR ACTIVITIES! YOU'RE ALL DETAINED UNTIL WE SORT THIS OUT!" Both young women exchanged exhausted glances. "I'll handle the pack. Go scatter as many as you can," Summer ordered more than asked. Lysia was gone before Summer had finished, already catching the arm of anyone in range. A relatively large patrol had caught the party off guard from the dunes, and nearly two dozen men were marching down the hill to begin detaining partygoers. Ever-sharp, Summer made a beeline through the panicked crowd and practically tackled her own pack, turning it over to dump out an assortment of large, mostly illegal, goblin fireworks. Within moments, nearly two dozen rockets were aimed toward the sky, their fuses sloppily tied together in a bunch. Grabbing a tiki torch, Summer dropped the flame onto the bundle and ran like hell, taking a painful dive behind a particularly high sand dune just before a pair of soldiers passed nearby. "Seven... eight... nine..." she counted quietly and plugged her long ears tight. [b][i]BOOM![/i][/b] All twenty-four rockets shot toward the sky at once and exploded with deafening bangs dangerously low to the ground. Sparks of every color imaginable flew through the air, creating more than enough chaos to put off the stiff guards. Those invited to the party were all aware of the contingency plan, and in the wake of the fireworks, each and every one of them had either swam off down the coast or fled through the taller wheat and cornfields out of sight. Summer, too, went to make her getaway, but her initial dive had broken two clasps on her expensive armor. The second she started to rise, both top and bottom started to fall, forcing her to simply scoop both pieces into her arms and take off running naked into the night.