[Santo - The Beach]

[walk_ins]

[master post]

You have to walk down a ramp to get to the sand. The ramp stretches over sand dunes, with sea oats dotting them, blowing in the near-constant breeze. On the same level as the ramp: a boardwalk, dotted with places to get sketchy-looking fried food, to try your luck at a number of games of chance, to watch performers, to ride roller coasters of the future!!!!

When you walk down the ramp, it's all white sand and blue water. Down about half a mile is a pier that juts out several hundred feet.

It's a nice beach. Not too crowded.

Comments

[wolflord_andain]

Galadan raises one eyebrow, looking over the area.

One eyebrow arches.

"There is a sort of charm to the place. Many of my acquaintances would be reasonably comfortable here."

His lips quirk in a slightly larger smile.

By acquaintances he means 'informants'.

Obviously.

[river_meimei]

River's face says: DUH.

Amicably.

"It's in the socioeconomic calculations."

[wolflord_andain]

Galadan's raised eyebrows say: Is it, indeed?

"I'll expect a presentation, with graphs, at some later date, then."

[river_meimei]

He gets a slightly withering look.

"Try the Bureau."

The Tourist Information Bureau, she means, presumably; they have many graphs. And glossy handouts with holos of the most popular attractions. And brightly smiling tour guides paid to explain Santo's wide-ranging appeal at great length.

[wolflord_andain]

His lips twitch again.

"That seems rather a waste of an afternoon."

[river_meimei]

"Exactly."

River looks satisfied that she's won this round.

[wolflord_andain]

Meanwhile, they've hit the boardwalk.

Galadan manages to look only faintly distasteful.

It helps that there are fewer people here today, certainly.

[river_meimei]

River slants a glance over at Galadan.

"You're a snob," she informs him amiably.

[wolflord_andain]

"I am a creature of forests and isolation," Galadan says mildly.

One corner of his mouth curves upward.

"And, unlike some, I make a rudimentary attempt to have standards."

[river_meimei]

River's expression is distinctly unimpressed.

"It's a cultural exploration."

Beat.

"We'll forgo the floral shorts."

Because River is kind and generous.

[wolflord_andain]

Galadan is crushed.

"You do have rather a high opinion of your persuasive capabilities."

Where crushes means 'amused'.

[river_meimei]

River just looks smug.

And pauses to bend over with her usual absent-minded flexibility, and begin undoing her boots.

[wolflord_andain]

Galadan does not heave a resigned sigh.

But he does remove his shoes. And socks.

Perhaps it's a peace offering.





Or perhaps he has no wish to find sand in his boots three months down the road.

[river_meimei]

Either way, River approves.

Only boring people wear shoes at the beach.

She doesn't bother to sit, though another day she probably would; she just tugs off each boot, balancing easily, and slips her fingers through the loops at the backs as she straightens.

[wolflord_andain]

Galadan raises one eyebrow, clearly amused, then performs the same operation with his own boots.

"Shall we?"

[river_meimei]

"Okay."

It's been a long time since River was at a beach.

She's in a good mood.

[wolflord_andain]

"I would offer my arm, save for my suspicion that you do not need it."

His voice is very dry, even as he begins moving toward an expanse of relatively unoccupied sand.

[river_meimei]

The look River gives him is her own version of that same dryness. It's pretty good; cheerful River may be, but a certain deadpan runs in the family.

"Call it a ball," she says, and hops down in a light puff of sand.

Another benefit of the thin cloud cover: the sand is warm above, cool beneath, but none of it is heated to scorching.

[wolflord_andain]

"I hardly think our attire appropriate."

He matches his pace to hers, at least for the moment.

[river_meimei]

"It's a new trend."

Surely they have sufficient panache. Right?

[wolflord_andain]

"One among many, I suppose."

He does not sound particularly displeased.

[river_meimei]

River just grins a little, as she turns her gaze to the horizon.

There are ships, far off: small pleasure skimmers, arcs of spray slicing up from their bows, and a few with water skiers or force-boarders trailing behind, and the darting shapes of tour-shuttles in the air above. No larger craft; in this city those are restricted to airspace above the docks. Diffuse light glimmers off the water, and the metal skins of the ships.

[wolflord_andain]

Galadan falls silent as well, winter-grey eyes distant and contemplative.

It is strange here, at this moment--familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

There are no flying ships on Fionavar, and though he has grown used to such things in his months here, still there are moments--

But it is just as well.

[river_meimei]

A few steps onward, towards the shore. River's feet scuff lightly through the sand, leaving a dented track wending back to the boardwalk. Her face is relaxed, both blank and contented; only her eyes are slightly narrowed against the sun. Her boots bounce gently against a thigh, leaving dusty smears on her skirt.

It's a few moments before her eyes turn back to Galadan.

[wolflord_andain]

He meets her glance, and raises his own eyebrows in turn.

Would she prefer to converse? To continue in silence? To find some of that fried food?

Galadan, at the moment, is reasonably content where he is.

There's novelty value in that, if nothing else.