This is the midpoint fictional update. It is a direct continuation of the opening fiction for the Vacation on Hoth event, which can be found here.

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Two weeks later

From above, the beauty of Hoth's icy-blue sky stood as background to four balance beams. It was beautiful beyond words, but that view wasn't quite right. There should only have been two balance beams on this segment of the Hoth Arctic Training obstacle course, but in Furios Morega's overly inebriated state, he was seeing double and so it seemed like there were four. He lay on the bottom of a deep pit in the ice that had just enough icicles to deter his fellow Plagueians from falling off the beams the way he drunkenly had moments before.

The shadow of someone scrambling across the obstacle overhead pulled the Epicanthix from his impaired musings and urged him to get up. As he leaned forward a sharp pain signaled from his rear. He reached down and pulled one of the many sharp icicles in this pit from his right buttock, adding to the covering of frozen and dried blood that coated the ground down there. Tossing the bloody icicle aside and returning to his feet with a heavy groan, Furios looked to his right where handholds that he'd gashed into the ice with his saber some days ago formed a sort of makeshift ladder out of the deep pit. He huffed and started climbing, but the ledges in the ice seemed to shift and sway while also being slick and slippery. Not even halfway up, he slipped and slid down the so-called ladder, remarkably landing on his feet with a booted thud. He tried again with even less success, falling on his wounded behind, letting out an irritated grunt and scowling at the spike of pain shooting up his spine.

Another shadow flashed from above as another someone passed over on the balance beam obstacle. With a heavy sigh, the Sith unwillingly drew on his strength in the Force to suppress his overwhelming buzz. Finding enough sobriety to make the way out stop shifting, he finally managed to pull himself out of the frozen pit. The return to daylight stung his eyes a bit after spending time in a literally bloody hole, but it didn't last long. Once back on the surface, the Aedile began shambling back to camp to tend his wound and get himself another drink.

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Six hours later

That evening, most of Clan Plagueis was meandering between the pre-constructed mess hall where an illustrious dinner was being served, the heated bunks where relaxation and recovery could be had after a long day of training, and the several bubbling hot tubs where drinks and treats could be enjoyed with a little warmth and luxury in the increasingly chilly night. It was from the mess hall that Furios drunkenly shambled out into the cool night, wearing a swimsuit and holding a massive mug of what was as much KCD vodka as it was hot cocoa. He sauntered to the nearest unoccupied hot tub and slid into it with equal parts graceful descent and uncontrolled fall. The water stung his freshly sealed wound, but between the on-site medic and a little persuasion from the Force, it was little more than a tickle to the heavily inebriated Sith. Finally sitting stationary in the bubbling water, he took a deep swig from his beverage and relaxed into the warmth of the tub, closing his eyes. He’d not been seated five minutes before an irate Plagueian approached.

“Zuser is eating a snow cone in the hot tub!?”

Furios opened his eyes and glanced over to whoever was interrupting his relaxation. “Blackhawk…” he muttered before taking a gulp of his vod-cocoa. “So?”

Blackhawk flustered a bit at the lack of reaction. “Snow cones and hot tubs do not mix,” he declared. “And any scenario where they do is going to lead to problems.”

“Shows how incapable of simultaneously enjoying a snow cone and a hot tub you are.” From the next tub over, Tahiri, who was looking particularly red between the heat from the tub and her own inebriation, laughed out loud.

The human-like Clawdite glared. “If both are being enjoyed properly, one vastly inhibits enjoyment of the other,” he explained with irritation coating his voice. “Also… why are we allowing eating in the hot tub?”

The Epicanthix sighed. “Because I make the rules.”

“And does the vendor’s insurance cover angry Sith?”

Furios chuckled. “No insurance needed for hot tubs. They’re not rented.”

Blackhawk was not satisfied with that answer. “Wampa insurance? Just in general?”

“Who insures hot tubs?”

“That’s for you to know and the rest of us to not worry about since you’re the one providing them.”

Furios took another deep swig from his almost comically large mug and an idea dawned on him. “Wait here,” he stated as he pulled his impaired self out of the hot tub.

He went back into the mess hall, doing drunken math in his drunken head and dripping water all the way. Blackhawk waited, irritated with the lack of resolution to his snow cone problem. After a few minutes, the Epicanthix returned with a refilled drink and a bucket occupying his hands, carrying a few large, white bags under his arms. He let the bags fall next to the hot tub and used the bucket to add water to the dark brown powder within, before setting it down and mixing it with his now free hand. With his materials for this demonstration in place, Furios went to the nearby droid overseeing the functionality of the hot tubs and took the control datapad from it. He changed the valve schema on the tub, bypassing the filtration system, and returned the datapad. He then dumped the contents of the bucket into the tub, turning the water a rich, brown color. He followed with the bags, adding in the contents, triple jumbo marshmallows. Blackhawk watched with equal parts horror and disgust as the remaining bags of marshmallows were emptied into the tub and Furios hopped in, embracing his new hot cocoa hot tub with a drunkenly oversized grin on his face. Tahiri, who had watched this insanity unfold, gave a heavily amused laugh and cheer, raising her glass and abandoning her own hot tub for the chocolaty one. “Best Aedile ever,” she giggled as she settled in opposite her subordinate.

Blackhawk, irate with the complete disregard for the machines, stormed off for the mess hall, disappearing into it just as Azmodius was coming out. His icy-white skin starkly contrasted with the black swimsuit he wore and the large, fruity frozen cocktail he held seemed too big for his four-fingered hand. “Hot Cocoa Hot Tub!?” he exclaimed before joining the two occupants.

“Truly epic,” the Arkanian offshoot declared before settling in and popping a marshmallow from the bubbling cocoa’s surface into his mouth. The trio clinked their beverages together in a toast-like manner.

“Gotta love the hat” Furios laughed, pronouncing the Hoth Arctic Training event by its acronym.

“Yes?!” TuQ’uan responded suddenly, poking his head out from the nearby bunks.