[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

[badinlatin]

"You drive them around."

Duh.

"And run each other off the track. What kind of childhood did you have?"

[simon_doctor]

"...Run each other off the track?"

Simon's eyebrows climb.

"How is that safe?" Or fun?

[badinlatin]

"You're not going fast, Doc. Come on."

[simon_doctor]

"-- you want me to --?"

He looks faintly alarmed. "I, I don't know."

[badinlatin]

"Why?


"'Fraid?"

[simon_doctor]

Indignant: "No."

[badinlatin]

Equally indignant: "Then what's the problem?"

[simon_doctor]

"...There's no problem. You go ahead. I'll watch."

[badinlatin]

Mal might pout.

"Then who the good gorram am I goin' to run into?"

[simon_doctor]

"People who aren't me?"

Just a suggestion.

[badinlatin]

Mal jabs a thumb in the direction of the four other people who are already climbing into their cars.

"Are you really going to make me order you?"

[simon_doctor]

"...You wouldn't."

Simon does not look at all sure of this.

[badinlatin]

"I'm debating it."

[simon_doctor]

"...I'm not even sure that would be a legitimate order."

People around them are starting to cast curious glances at the conversation.

[badinlatin]

Mal, finally noticing the others and that they are holding up the line, climbs into one of the two remaining empty cars, and he leans back toward Simon with a commanding tone.




"You chicken out now, you will only hear the end of it when they're scatterin' me through the black. Get.

"In.

"The car."

[simon_doctor]

"..."



Simon runs one hand through his hair in a distracted gesture, lets out a breath of futile exasperation, and gets in the car.

[badinlatin]

"About time," the operator jokes, in that way where it is about 75 percent completely serious, and the switch is officially flipped, the cars wobbling to their positions six or so inches off the ground.

"Remember," Mal almost cackles. "The idea is to go forward."

[simon_doctor]

The controls of the little aircar are absurdly simple: speed up, slow down, right turn, left turn, stop, reverse. There's no altitude control, which relieves Simon's mind a little about the safety of this particular attraction.

Forward.

All right then.

[badinlatin]

And they are off.

There are several different tacks people choose while on this particular ride -- some like to speed off, evading impact through running away. Some toddle along, being amused more by being the first victim than the first hunter. Some hold back to see where their prey is headed first before zooming off.

Mal puts on a fair bit of speed, and before he knows it he is halfway down the first stretch.

[simon_doctor]

Simon hangs back to try out the sensitivity of the controls, clear of the other cars. Side to side, speed up, slow down.

All right then.

There's another car coming up behind him; he swerves at the last second to let the other zip past him, then accelerates.

He's got one eye on Mal's car.

[badinlatin]

Mal takes a risk and looks backward, seeing Simon start to gain.

Good. Competition is good for him. Man needs a game or three.

"[Too slow, Doctor Man!]"

[simon_doctor]

The car's controls are more responsive than he would have guessed from its clunky exterior. He's getting the hang of this. Basic hand-eye coordination.

The track's circular, and they've pulled rather far ahead of the rest of the pack, so if their lead keeps increasing ...

A tight little smile touches the corner of Simon's mouth, and he pulls in behind Mal.

[badinlatin]

Mal starts in a zigzag pattern, now -- a lilting thing and a little reckless, speeding through turns almost too fast --

[simon_doctor]

Simon starts to weave right and left in an inverse mimicry of Mal's pattern, crossing his path behind him, taking the inside of the track on the turns.

Very shortly now.

[badinlatin]

The others are moving way too slow for Mal's taste, and Mal's moving too fast for the operator's.

"Don't make me jack down your controls!" the operators screams, but Mal makes no motion to slow down until he's in the thick of the five others who are consistently trying to crash into each other without any sort of chase.