[Coastline near Syliras] Day at the Beach [Open]

[Nanaria]

63rd of Summer, 512 AV Nanaria ran along the beach wearing what she wore the day she was born. The salty ocean breeze caressed her skin, beading and forming trails down the curves of her body, flying backwards into the air from the speed of her running. Too slow, She thought, pushing herself to run faster. The sand made it difficult to get a good foothold, and it was slowing her down, but the location was a good one, as there wasn't too many rocks, making it easier to walk - or, run - on. She thought about moving up the beach a bit, away from the water, where the sand was a bit more firm, when – OUCH! – She stepped on something and her leg instinctively flinched, sending her sprawling face-down into the ground. Coughing and spitting sand out of her mouth, she clenched her eyes shut and rubbed the rest of the irritating grains from her face before opening them. Getting onto her knees, she bent over to inspect what she had almost stepped on, half buried in the sand. It was a shell, a rather large shell, intricate looking and quite beautiful. From her slim weight crashing down on it, though, it had a slight crack in its center. The damage wasn’t too extensive, and all in all it was still quite presentable. Smiling, she grabbed a hold of it and attempted to wrest it out of the ground. As her fingers wrapped around the entrance to the conch, a small mouth darted out and bit her, then retreated back into its shell. She yanked her hand away and flapped it in the air, inspecting it for damage. ”Oi! That hurt!” She yelled at the… Whatever it was. ”Whatever! You’re ugly anyway!” She said, crawling a bit away from it to nurse her finger. There were two tiny pricks in her skin, but it didn’t look like it pierced through. It wasn’t bleeding, in any case. It poked its head out and stared at her with beady eyes mounted upon stalks, then turned and crawled away towards the water. Sighing, she laid down and stared up at the clouds rolling by, wondering what they were made of. Were they giant balls of cotton, or maybe puffs of smoke? Who knew. Who cared? Horus would know… She found herself thinking as the late morning sun beat down on her glistening skin, and that brought a tear to her eye. But just one. Today was a happy day, as opposed to all the miserable days the djed storms had brought around. When they were raging Nan was stuck in the bunkers with the rest of the Sylirans, because she didn’t want to brave the seas and she doubted her tent would be able to protect her. She was stuck, surrounded by stone walls, for what seemed like an eternity. They had passed, though, and things were returning to normalcy. And normalcy for Nan meant a day at the beach.

[Will]

For Will, the beach failed to bring that same sense of normalcy. Though, to be fair, few things really could. Normal for him had been so messed up, so twisted, that even he had lost the meaning of the word. Still, the beach appealed to him for its calmness. Will embraced the seclusion, the emptiness, and the silence. The sweet whispers of the ocean lulled him into a kind of trance, and he allowed himself to step back from life. What was the point of worrying here? He walked along the baking sand, appreciating the soft warmth that it brought to his unprotected feet. The sun hit his bare back, and the heat warmed his entire figure. Fire was Will's element, and he felt at home--or closer to home than the usual Syliran atmosphere could provide--under these conditions. He wasn't much for swimming, so the water felt a bit off, but altogether his mood had improved considerably since exiting the city... ...Only to be dampened by the figure that materialized in the distance. Lying in the sand, it was obviously a woman, and her clothing, or rather lack thereof, made the situation even more uncomfortable. Will, unwilling to risk breaking the silence of solitude, glanced over his shoulder and weighed his options. Unfortunately, he realized he would have to return to the city at some point or another, and crossing paths with this woman would be the only way to accomplish that. Picking up his pace slightly he continued to walk, though, as much as he tried to avoid contact with the figure, he couldn't help but glance in her direction a couple times as he approached. Remaining silent, Will continued to walk.

[Malz]

It was a lovely day, except not really. A lovely day was the best way Malz could describe it, since the poor girl has never been good with words. The day was a lot more than lovely, and a series of grand events went on. The sun did not only kiss your skin, but had a full make out session with it, warming you to your core. A breeze left patterns in the sand and provided the trees with the wind it needed to make its orchestra of rustling.

Sadly, Malz lacked the language skill to express so. Writing always just seemed so silly to her since it was impossible to sit down and actually read anything with busy schedules, and all the silly rules of writing annoyed her. Once though, Malz did plan on writing a great piece, but like her other hobbies she hit it and proceeded to quit it.

‘Silly writers,’ she thought to herself, slightly cursing her inability to convey the heartfelt feelings through words. The sky was always simply a blue backdrop to her, not a “deep pool to the heavens”. Malz didn’t need words though, she had her paint. Her brush slowly went along the light sketches on her canvas, and was slowly expressing the beauty of the day in the only way she knew she could.

And the nude girl was a bonus.

Not often did Malz get a nude model for her paintings, because no one had really liked her art enough to pose so riskily for it. As the woman took her final resting position, the artist tried to get the shape of her body down from the shadows behind her.

“Right, just draw the S curve, and make it look like the arms are sewn into the chest… Ah shoot that’s not right.”

Now, among the serene backdrop of her painting, was some sort of monstrous humanoid with monkey arms resting on the sand. She quickly brushed the lines off, and stared at her target furiously. She could always move somewhere else to get a better view, but then she’d have to redraw the shoreline, and fix the horizon and disappearing points.

She debated the importance of the model…. And then debated the change she would ever get a "Willing" nude model again. Sadly, this type of thing happened only once in a blue moon. Quickly picking up her equipment, Malz dragged her art case to the right of the beach, closer to the water. She was easily visible like this, but the woman seemed to be too lost in the serenity to notice.

And then another “model” walked in.

“Flipping fantastic,” she said a bit more loudly than she expected. Afraid of being discovered she ducted her pale face under her canvas while trying to balance it on her knees, and hurried along with her sketching. Drawing from still-life was much easier than free-hand, but she was still stuck on the figure. Malz decided to quickly lay down some basic shapes for the woman. Then Malz, moving on from the female, tried to draw the male who seemed to be walking faster than she could hope draw. She reassured herself that the sloppiness of the figure would just convey the urgency of his walking...

[Nanaria]

Nanaria was in the process of trying to get the sand out of her arse - comic in its inelegance - when she heard the footsteps pierce the summer breeze. They were muffled by the sand, to be sure, but the sound of the gentle thuds was music to her ear. It meant, quite simple, that someone had arrived - and Nan loved people. They came in all shapes and sizes, but most of them, if not all of them, had one thing in common; they liked fun! Struggling to sit up, she undid all the work she had accomplished in her writhing, more grains of sand clinging to her body than had before. Sighing, she smiled and called out to the man, "Hallo! Bee-ootiful day, isn't it?" Almost as if in answer to her question, a voice came from behind her. "Flipping fantastic," it said, and Nan would have agreed - had she not bolted upright and turned around, looking for the source of the voice. It was obviously female, but all she could see was a pair of legs and some square of paper or canvas or something. A painter? How long had she been there? "Hallo!" She called again, this time directing it at the woman in the shade of the trees. "Can I see what you're painting?" She asked, which was absurd because if she wanted to see she could just walk up the beach. How was the other woman gonna stop her? She stood there nude, and almost as an afterthought - more for the approaching man than for the woman - she wrung her hands together and squeezed her arms over her breasts, blocking view of both her chest and her crotch. Nan recalled the human sense of decency did not include standing nude on the beach, but this wasn't in the city so who was gonna stop her? It dawned on her that she hadn't introduced herself to either person. She was much more interested in faces, yet one was a tad bit far and the other was blocked by an easel - names could wait a bit longer.

[Will]

"Hallo! Bee-ootiful day, isn't it!" The sudden noise pierced through the air, cracking the silence like a branch being broken off a beautiful tree. It left a lingering scar in the air that worsened the atmosphere considerably, but the words had been spoken. The breaking of silence could not be taken back. Will was too far from the scene to hear the other voice, so he felt obligated to respond to the greeting. He had wanted a silent day to himself, but with that already having been taken, there was no point in remaining antisocial. Besides, the source of the voice seemed innocent enough. She had more reasons to worry about him than he had to be afraid of her. He began to speak, though his volume was such that the words likely fell to the sand before reaching their target. "Hello--" "Hallo! Can I see what you're painting?" The woman called out again, and it curtailed Will's response. The words initially caught him off guard; he obviously wasn't painting anything, so the question confused him. Then he followed her line of sight and took notice of the painter. Excellent. More people. Will stopped walking within conversation distance of the original girl, and dug his hands into his pockets. He curled his toes in the sand, allowing the warmth to spread up his feet, and otherwise stood in silence. Socially awkward to some extent, Will wasn't entirely sure of how he should proceed, and it took a few moments of silence before he realized some kind of salutation would probably suffice. He opened his mouth to repeat what he had nearly whispered before, though this time he spoke a bit louder. "Hello." He didn't feel it necessary to say anything further.

[Malz]

The konti thought for a moment as the woman spoke and poked her head over the canvas to look at the figures. This didn’t offer much insight to the face of the artist, since her eyes were covered by a forest of white bangs that seemed to blend in with her pale skin. They could, however, see her nose wrinkling and lips forming into a frown.

The nude woman had moved! Now all the changes were useless. Malz quickly went back to her canvas to see if she could redraw the previous lines. Maybe a picture of a woman with monster arms on the beach would sell better…. Or maybe…

“Oh, I’m painting everything! The sea, the sand, you and your, errrm, friend there?” Malz said as she gave a quick wave to the awkward male, matching his awkward hello with an even more awkward grin. “You’re both fantastic models, you know. If it wasn’t for you this picture would drab and dull, now it’s full of life and energy! We should really do more work together in my studio, Miss and Mister…?”

The woman may agree, she thought. Not many normal people run around on the beach all natural, maybe she was a foreigner. Foreigners are perfectly clueless people, which is Malz’s favorite type of person. Adopt them, show them the sites of the city, then slowly ask for a few mizas… or maybe some food. Malz was a real starving artist, not one of those silly figurative one, which she was actually quite proud of.

The male though, didn’t exactly seem as naïve or as easy to whoo. He looked more like those harden types that steps on starving orphans without realizing they were even doing it. Still he had an interesting face and would make an interesting portrait. If Malz couldn’t charm him with her knowledge of the city then she could probably use her lady skills. She took away the cartoony grin, and replaced it with a more petite smile, working her pouty pink lips.

Yes, Malz could smile like a perfect woman, but when it came to talking like one well, she needed some lessons in that, but don’t men like it better anyway when the women are just quiet and giggly?

[Nanaria]

"How can you paint everything? Wouldn't you run out of paint?" asked Nan, letting her hands fall to her side, forgetting to keep herself covered. "You can call me Nan! And he's not my friend, I just met him! And we're not married either!" She grinned and realized she was talking about the man like he wasn't even there. "Not that I wouldn't bond with you. If I knew you better. Or if you cheered up and stopped talking to your feet. Women don't like that! Talk to my face if you like, or my breasts, I don't care, but my feet are absolutely off-limits!" "Drab? Dull? I don't think so. Maybe you're not painting it right. Let me see," Nanaria trudged up the beach to where the pale woman was painting, hoping to catch a glimpse of the artwork. "And your studio? Maybe later! That sounds like fun, actually. But today is a bee-oo-tiful day to be at the beach, I'm not going to waste it in some drab castle. You know, if you would stand in the sun and take your clothes off you'd tan much better. Can't get much darker sitting in the shade all covered up." She remarked, almost forgetting why she went up the hill to begin with. As an after thought she turned to the man who was standing there awkwardly and waved at him to join them.

[Will]

Will looked up on Nan's command, letting his gaze rest on her eyes. For someone like Will, who saw less as more when it came to words, the woman spoke way too much. Her words reminded Will of a waterfall in that they were constant and unrelenting. Unwilling to speak until he was sure the words had stopped crashing down, Will responded mentally as she spoke. "And we're not married either! Not that I wouldn't bond with you." Yeah. No thanks. "Or if you cheered up and stopped talking to your feet" I'll fake a smile if you cheer down a little. Obviously he wouldn't vocalize any of these thoughts, as truth tends only to complicate things. "I'm Will," he walked closer to the others as he began to speak. Obviously silence wasn't an option at this point, and putting up with who he now thought of as too-happy-girl might be the least painful way of approaching the situation. He turned to face the painter and, in the most polite manner he could manage, responded to her question. "Sorry, I'd rather not."

[Malz]

"Oh, Nan paint can be made easily. In fact, I can make paint out of almost anything. Just need a lot of hens." The artist said smugly as she rushed some last minute details on the picture. Malz couldn't actually draw details all that well though, so it more looked like random scribbles. "Just give me a minute..." Malz said, tugging the wet canvas closer to her, trying to block the woman's view. She grabbed the brush resting on top the old case, and dotted some thick paint on for the sea foam. With a criticizing stare, she held the painting out in the sun. It was a mutation between black lines and paint splats forming, what the viewer assumed to be, shapes, though they looked a tad off. If the painting was an animal, it'd be one not exactly nice enough to cuddle, but one nice enough you would debate killing before deciding. Eventually, you would spear and eat it because "You wouldn't know how to appreciate something so raw," Malz deluded. Still she knew she wasn't the best, and was at least thankful that that it would not be killed out of the intention to make the animal kingdom less ugly. It possessed a strange color pallet, varying greens and purples, and seemed more like a child's view of the beach, a child with way too much imagination.

"Ah, but there's all type of adventure that can be had in a castle." She said to the woman, picking up a brush without even looking away from her painting, "You'll find that the stone is dyed by all sorts of things too. Magic, scorch marks, maybe even blood from someone unlucky. Not drab at all, quite colorful actually. Though somethings look better with less color, which is why I prefer to be covered. You shouldn't change what's natural, natural things have got, wassitcalled, aesthetic." She finished, while pulling down her blue skirt a bit more.

With a few brush strokes the sand began to be invaded by bronze specs of color. The figure lying down in the center began to take on the color of an actual human, and the man on the side took on a tad more form too. He was a bit too overtaken by shadows for such a bright day on the beach but Malz figured it would look more interesting that way. She stopped staring down at her portrait and looked back up at the man now identified as Will. "Are you sure? You'd be helping an artist out. We wouldn't even have to go to the studio, I could paint you right here. Or maybe we could meet somewhere if you're busy. I simply love sitting down to a nice brunch while painting." Malz had actually know idea what a brunch was, but had heard wealthy people refer to it, and wealthy people don't say bad words so Malz assumed it was safe to use.

[Nanaria]

As the painter did some last minute work on her art, Nanaria took the time to inspect the sad looking man. He stood in an aura of shadows, it seemed, with the sun barely able to touch him. His face spoke of loss and the Kelvic girl wasn't sure what to make of him. He would look so much better with a smile on his face... Turning her attention to the painting that was being presented to her, she stared without comment for a bit of time. She took in the different colors, the splotches here, the strokes there, and truth be told she didn't think it was all that. "Maybe if you used a brighter yellow for the sun," She offered, not sure that was the reason she didn't quite like the painting. It was more to do with the way that she herself looked - if that bronze-ish figure laying in the sand was indeed her. She pursed her lips. "Raw? You're supposed to cook it?" She asked innocently. Nan widened her eyes at the mention of blood and magic scorches. How exactly was that supposed to convince her? Instead of drab and boring it seemed full of excitement, to be sure, but the wrong kind of excitement; the dangerous kind. Besides, she's been to the castle before. She had enough of the castle, at least for now. She was adamant in her decision to stay on the beach at least until the sun went down. "Were you born with clothes?" She asked the painter, not sure why being pale was natural. But maybe she wasn't human, which would explain a lot. Especially her eyesight. That splotch in the sand looked NOTHING like her!