隅田川花火大会 SUMIDAGAWA FIREWORKS FESTIVAL

[tokyodisa]

Who: Everybody!
What: Tokyo Day Three: fireworks festival
When: Thursday, 18/July -- evening
Where: Hotel or Sumida
Rating: pretty

Tonight, in the sky, there are fireworks.

You can see them from the hotel window, but for a better look -- so suggests the helpful concierge at the desk -- you'll want to head to Sumida, where locals and tourists alike gather on the edge of the Sumida River.

[ Watch fireworks from the hotel | Watch fireworks from Sumida ]

[Technically the festival is supposed to happen on the last Saturday of July, but whatever! It's Paradisa. For more information on the festival please visit here, and you can watch YouTube videos here.]

Comments

[samson]

Well, then we shoulda stayed at the hotel, honey. [Obnoxious smirking!! Brock, that's not what she meant.]

[molotov]

Stop it, Brock. You know what I mean. A hill somewhere, maybe.

[samson]

You think we'd get caught if we climbed up on a house or something?

[molotov]

We could try it anyway.

[samson]

Okay.

[He leans down to give her a quick peck on the cheek, then lets go of her hand and moves on ahead so he can go down an alley, out of sight, and start scaling a building.]

[molotov]

[Molotov just follows, shifting her blanket so that she can climb up after him.]

[samson]

[Once he's up on the roof, Brock pauses to turn around and offer her a hand. Not that he thinks she needs it, but he is being a gentleman.]

[molotov]

[She takes it, and spreads her blanket out on top of the roof.]

[samson]

I should have grabbed us some beers or something.

[He waits until she has the blanket all spread out, then hunkers down on it, holding his arms out for her almost childishly. CUDDLE, NOW.]

[molotov]

Sake.

[She immediately curls into his arms, snuggling against him.]

[samson]

You're nuts. Japanese beer.

[Still, he tucks her head under his chin.]

[molotov]

Sapporo isn't even that good, dummy.

[She sighs, and entwines their legs, her arms wrapped low around his waist.]

[samson]

It's beer, though. [That makes it good automatically! Obviously.

Brock laughs a little when she basically knots them together, nudging her a little.]

[molotov]

You are so low class.

[But she says it tenderly, her eye closed as she waits for the fireworks to start.]

[samson]

Pfft. You like it.

[He's quiet for a little bit then, just thinking, then gently squeezes her.]

Are you sure you're doing okay?

[molotov]

[Molotov is quiet too, even after he asks her a question.]

I am tired.

[samson]

Well... you spent about a day screaming and crying, so... that makes sense.

[molotov]

I have the right to do it, you know.

[samson]

I know you do. I'm just saying, that's why you're tired.

[molotov]

And you are fat.

[samson]

Oh, wow! We're getting a divorce. [Snuggles anyway.]

[molotov]

Good, then I can go marry a better man.

[samson]

Pfft. We've been over this before. I'm pretty much top-of-the-line in this joint.

[molotov]

I am pretty sure there are better men around here. Ones that do not stink up my bathroom.

[samson]

Whoa, there's no need to be crude, Molotov.