(open) mission: hit the beach

[aithinkthereforeaiam]

Date & Time: July 18th-24th, Exsilium Time
Location: Sea Shore during the Late Cretaceous Period
Characters: All! Oh those pesky mandatory missions.
Summary: In lieu of the success of the space shuttle's test flight, all of the Transports have been sent back to the Cretaceous period to gather mineral supplies and volcanic rock, while doubling as a sort of 'vacation' and chance to get Transports out of the Initiative's hair. With well stocked supplies, camping gear, and more burlap sacks than anyone could possibly ever use, the Transports have been set under a protective dome and told to collect what they can... and to enjoy the sunshine.
Warnings: Shenanigans!

The overflow log can be found HERE!

It's almost surreal, the quality of color, of light, of oxygen saturation in the air once people arrive. It's so rich that the Initiative sent people back with respirators, to help ease the transition, and warned those who would listen about the effects of too much oxygen on a system.

What they don't warn for is the sheer alien familiarity of the landscape, the warmth, the roughness of the sand on the beaches. This is not the fine, sandy beaches out of vacation dreams, but a rougher, larger granule sort, with shells that might be recognizeable as ancestors to ones those from Earth would remember washing up on familiar beaches, millions of years later.

Most striking is the lack of abundant wildlife found among the fronds and leaves and foliage, or underneath the surface of the saltier, much warmer waters extending off the beach. While acting as a permeable membrane to oxygen and water, along with the sorts of phytoplankton that kept sea creatures alive, all the larger animals had been pushed out by the Initiative's installment of the safety dome. Along the transparent walls, curious creatures would come close, peer in, tap against the barrier and run off if frightened, but very few were found inside at any size larger than that of a house cat. It was for the better in the long run.

Too bad that the Initiative didn't have ultra-violet blocking technology in their shielding. For all the atmosphere is in much better shape millions of years in the past, the sun is as strong as ever, and the unwary will be burned through and through if they're not careful.

Comments

o-o-open!

[anklets]

a.

[The Cretaceous Period, they'd called it, and, baking between the sand and the sky, Lenalee does not question them. These plants are not familiar plants. This colour is not England, not even on its sunniest days when everything was still filmy, washed-out as an old photograph. She collects a burlap bag and spends too long lingering in the shadow of the tents, unwilling to tread nearer the leafy fronds until she has seen others do the same.

Dinosaurs. Inside the dome, there are only people (and some like-people), but she can hear- things outside, all but feel the Earth move beneath her feet. She rolls the sack in her hands and frowns, nudges a supply bag with her toes.]



b.

[Despite Lenalee's viciously dedicated attempts to keeping to where the trees cast their shade, every speck of her has turned a tender red. Her shoes sink into the sand and it scratches her burns when she kneels for the rocks (barely-there callouses do not save her from any scratches the stones offer).

She pours palmfuls of water down her back and drinks the rest, her face all pinched up in a frown. Sand-blind. Aching to let her Innocence flare and take her darting across the beach, but knowing better— she'd tried once already and it had worked long enough that the sun had ample time to heat the metal, until it burned, and that had surprised her; how human God's weapon could be that it offered so little use in a land owned by all things prehistoric.]

Five more...



c.

[She's in the surf at sundown. As far out as she can get before it sweeps her off her toes. The ocean does nothing for her— brines her, cracks her skin, makes her remember (she remembers that she isn't doing what she'd promised to do and that she can't do anything about that but collect rocks)— but she's dry-throated and her blouse (white, of course it's white) is nearly see-through where it sticks to her skin.

Closing her eyes to a warm salty breeze, she drifts her fingers through the water, creating two-second eddies. This goes on for several minutes, then, fluid, Lenalee makes herself take a deep and steeling breath and

dives beneath the waves.]

b

[phaseshifts]

[He's not so much fond of Exorcists. But some of them are fun. That's what leads him to Lenalee when he glimpses that now-familiar girl. She's fun! She's so serious and so angry, just how an Exorcist should be, and that's what's fun.

His own skin is much more suited for being under the sun. He comes closer to admire her burnt skin, and then laughs.]

You look like a lobster, girl.

[onehundredswords]

[Although he doesn't recognize either of them as he's passing, Tyki's voice is definitely familiar - not to mention he already thinks Lenalee looks ridiculous with that burn.

It's amazing he hasn't burned considering how pale he is, now that he thinks about it.

But he just has to chime in, so stops, turning his focus towards the pair;]

Huh, I recognize that voice! Tyki, right?

[and hey there lenalee]

Is medium-rare here a' friend a' yours?

[anklets]

["Admire", Tyki Mikk, is a word with no room for derision, so kindly take that and shove it—

but she jumps, hearing "medium-rare" and knowing it's meant for her, tart remark going so sour on her tongue that her entire face just wrinkles up, and it's a childish face, filled with childish temper.]

No. Not friends.

[phaseshifts]

We're acquainted. [A grin, leaving it ambiguous. He blinks sideways at Gin, the slightest bit nonplussed, before most of his focus returns to Lenalee - before he sidles nearer and crouches down to her level. A smile, all warm and personal, because he knows it'll rankle her.]

Silly girls who are too pale already shouldn't jump in the sun with no care like that, hm?

[onehundredswords]

Aw c'mon, don't be so hard on the poor girl.

[Even that sounded horribly patronizing, like he's speaking of a child.

"Not friends" really was all he needed to hear though, the tension and obvious negative attitude between the pair more evident because of it.

Which basically amounts to him deciding to have a bit of fun with it.]

Maybe she admired your, ah, darker complexion - an' wanted one 'erself. Imitation an' flattery, as they say.

Let's go for A then

[bloodyashes]

[Lenalee might recognize this red hair and uniform from that previous mission - although red hair is a little less distinctive in Exsilium than it is in either of their home worlds, it's still pretty eye catching against the green.

And yes, he's wearing the Entire Uniform - weirdly enough, he doesn't seem bothered by the heat at all, because he's kind of a dickbag that way and no one really knows how he didn't get heat stroke in the desert.

He mostly seems to be talking to himself, but she's free to interrupt.]

Idiots, go out from the camp and collect materials on your way back...

a for "awwwyea time to roleplay with nai"

[anklets]

[Her memory is good, but someone as briefly spoken to as Asch had been is more Lavi's page. Tyki Mikk had been skulking about in Allen's body, tight with the rot and hate in his face, and she'd cared much more about that, about making a threat and hoping he'd believe its sincerity.

But surrounded by skin and swimsuits, the black all up and tied neatly beneath the chin ushers her attention, and from there she pieces something familiar about the frown pinching his face.

With a quiet sigh, for catharsis.]

Er- should you really be wearing that?

Re: a for "awwwyea time to roleplay with nai"

[bloodyashes]

[He's not really startled by her approach - oversensitive hearing plus loud sand equals few surprises - but he does turn towards her with eyebrows raised. It's an "are you talking to me?" face, but who else would she be talking to...

At least he does recognize her - there's not too many transports and he's got a good memory for the people he does bother to talk to.]

I'll be fine. I've been through worse.

[A little warmer than is pleasant, really, but not as bad as the desert. There's a breeze, for a start.]

[anklets]

[Who else but the grumps of the camp. She shan't stop until every one has been tamed and taught the ethics of Being Approachable.]

Be that as it may... [ stubborn ]

[bloodyashes]

[Lenalee is attracted to grumpy like moths to a buzzer light. It's a true thing that is true.

Have a funny look.]

And why does it bother you anyway?

well ok then let's go with c for variety

[overclocking]

[He's never been one for beach parties (or parties in general), which is why he finds himself with the ankles of his pants rolled up, taking a peaceful and solitary walking along the edge of the surf. Truth be told, the only reason he's out here at this hour is because he hopes to glimpse the stars, entirely unmarred by light pollution. It's been two weeks since he's seen any stars at all, so he'll beat himself up later if he doesn't seize the opportunity while it's here.

He slows his walk when he spots Lenalee, though, uncertain whether he should be disturbing her. It's when she dives in that he comes to a complete halt, staring after the rippling water. To himself, dubiously;]

Is that really safe...?

aaaahhh, the spice of life.

[anklets]

[Resurfaces, all breathless and water-slick, not at all cooled and poorer-tempered for it. She racks her hair off her face, puffs her cheeks out, and turns back towards the shore, where her shoes are pressed into the sand like clams. He isn't so far off that she doesn't notice him in the shallows.

(really stands out when the rain hasn't dulled him)

The evening tide pushes at her back, so she slogs forward, and stops when her knees crest.]

Evening.

[overclocking]

Evening. [He sounds apologetic, though he's not entirely sure why; the beach is open to everyone, after all. Perhaps it's just the sense that he's intruded upon something.

Anyone else might have noted how the water does no favors for the already-translucent nature of her shirt, but he doesn't even seem to notice. Instead he just glances at the pallor of her skin, and the unrelenting sun setting in the distance. It's with the curiosity of someone who might just consider it that he can't help but ask.]

Did that help at all?

[anklets]

[Not quite so naive she lacked the foresight to wear flesh-tones beneath the white, but she hardly feels threatened by him (just vague self-consciousness, leading to dodged glances). She's dyed warm in the sunset, purpling shadows dragging heavy down her front, and she scrapes the salt from her scalp with her fingernails and frowns thoughtfully. She has felt bathwater cooler than this.]

Mm. [ no-mm, not yes-mm ] I'll need a breeze, I think. It's all salt.

[overclocking]

[He frowns and stoops down, letting a few fingers trail through the surf as it rises over the tops of his feet, testing the temperature. He's been walking on rough, heated sand for so long that he's not sure he has enough feeling left in his feet to judge.

To be honest, it kind of reminds him of home. Warm air, warm ground, warm water. It's with a bit of reluctance that he withdraws his hand and straightens up, eying the skyline again.]

I see what you mean.

Maybe it will get better once the sun's been down for a while.

a

[hyanaimne]

[Lenalee isn't the only one staring warily at the others; coming up from behind, Tempest peers over her head (height advantage and all) to watch as well, frowning. She'd never been to the beach herself, though she had heard of all the "joys" it was supposed to bring from others in the capital. Still, it didn't really appeal to her much. She would burn horribly if she were to remove her cloak, and heavens forbid she put on the . . . bathing suit? That was so kindly provided. It was too indecent for her tastes.

Though . . . she may as well say something, though the tone is low enough that it could either be to Lenalee, or to herself]

It must be ridiculously hot out there . . .

hiiiiiii /)'w'(\

[anklets]

["Must be"— that's an odd turn of phrase, she thinks, and turns 'round, nearly turns into. Her grace saves her and she regroups with a neat backtread, taking note of the woman, her—

oh.]

For most of us.

hellooooooo <333

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest tilts her head, curiously, glancing down at the girl]

Only "most"?

<333333

[anklets]

[ a pointed... look.., tugging at her collar

she's getting warmer just looking at her ]

Well, more than a few have insisted on long sleeves...

<3333333!!!!!

[hyanaimne]

[She notes the look and snorts a bit, but rolls up her sleeves and revealing the reason why she hasn't bothered changing - fair skin, paler than what's visible of her face. The shirt, at least, doesn't seem too thick - a simple men's tunic, cheaply made and well-worn.

. . . she isn't removing the cloak, though]

Yes, well.

c

[payback]

[The stars out here are absolutely on fire. It's daunting, a little scary but whetted with excitement too - they're miles and millenia away from the modern day, and Rin couldn't find it nicer.

She comes down to the beach to enjoy a slow stroll after a long hot day herself, basking in the still-warm nighttime air and enjoying the silvery light of the moon, the ridiculous piles of glittering stars. She crunches and shuffles through the sand, and mutters a soft, unladylike curse when she scuffs her foot on a sharp bit of rock. The dangers of going barefoot.]

[anklets]

[A curse echoed, not quite as crudely but water-slurred, and prompted by the unfortunate discovery of the many tiny scratches on her hands. Drags herself back to the air, pursed lips, and wrings her hands and her hair, so that she can see Rin where she stands silhouetted, small.

The water is too sour that she can't put off dredging herself from it.]

Careful!

[payback]

Why? [A little disproportionately alarmed, all at once. That voice is familiar too...] Why? What happened? What?

[anklets]

Shore's rough.