[CENTER][COLOR=darkgoldenrod][sup]________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/COLOR][img]https://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/27900000/Alex-alex-pettyfer-27913840-500-238.gif[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=darkgoldenrod][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]The Farm/The Beach[/I] - [I]Pacific Royal Campus[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=darkgoldenrod][b]Welcome Home #1.012:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Greetings and Shit-you-takings[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][COLOR=darkgoldenrod][SUP][sub]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sub][/SUP][/COLOR][indent][sub][color=darkgoldenrod][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]Gil - [@Roman], Calliope - [@PatientBean], Lorcán - [@Lord Wraith], 
Rory - [@webboysurf], Aurora - [@Melissa], Mei - [@Garden Gnome], 
Harper - [@Qia], Amma - [@Rockette][/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=darkgoldenrod][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [color=white][I]I've Been Through The Desert On A Horse... Which Shall Remain Nameless[/I][/color][/right][/SUP][/indent]

[color=gray]Still soaked he continued his stroll on the hard-packed sand closest to the shore, shoes and sock in hand, looking slightly like a drowned rat.

Suddenly a megaphone barked from up the beach, and despite the distortion and seabreeze he had no doubts who was on the other end of it.

[color=darkgoldenrod]"Bloody Hell.  Just because the sayin's if you see somethin', say somethin' doesn't mean it's proportional, Baxter, ya hard-wired nutbag."[/color]  He muttered to himself, setting a tack for the direction of the dictatorial din.

It was a good day.  The sun was warm.  Not exactly like back home, but it was still a day meant for the beach.

His hair was the first thing to dry, and he could feel it whipping around with the seabreeze.

Harper's here... He saw Lorcán's board, and with the telltale football whistling by over the softer sand on his left, he figured Rory Tyler must be up ahead as well.

He looked out to sea to check the position of the boat.  Old Mate would probably need his help getting it back on land later, but for now he'd be fine.  It was a ridiculous sized bloody thing for one to two people, and the guy used a boat trailer instead of hiring a dock.  No more facts were required in order to realise that the cunning old codger intended to have the help of a guy who could physically enhance himself anytime he wanted to get the thing back on land.  Still, it had been good value for when he'd had one or two friends out there, the cabin was stupidly luxurious.  Had a toilet, shower, television set up, lounge and bed down there.  All of which had been used - since sea sickness can be a bastard.

He saw the [i]'Dawnie Fraser'[/i] a good kilometre and a half off the coast, and with no intent on returning to the boat ramp any time soon, turned his attention back to the people ahead.

And to his right.

Just in wading depth was the newest member of the team, Amma Cahors.  She was... well, 'playing' is not really the right word for anything Amma does, but 'entertaining herself' might have been a close enough way to put it.

He stopped briefly and considered saying something.

Then she drew a shell - possibly with something still living in it, he was too distant to tell - from the water and watched, as it disintegrated into nothing in her fingers, a smile never leaving her face.

Banjo emitted a long low whistle.

[color=darkgoldenrod]"Naaaaaah.  Not unpackin' all of that right now.  No bloody way, no bloody how."[/color]  He muttered to himself as he continued his walk down the shoreline.

As he got closer he could see that Calliope had indeed staked herself out a prime spot under an umbrella.  In a small smattering of a group with Harper, Aurora, Mei and Gil.

His shirt had finally made some inroads towards drying off, and he was feeling pretty good.  He started his walk in-land just in time to see Lorcán take a football right off the head.  Hadn't even bothered to raise his arms.  Which left Banjo little doubt as to where his attention was at the time.

[color=04cf3a]"Shit, Lorc, sorry about that. Figured you had your hands up, so I was going for a tight spiral, and..."[/color]

[color=darkgoldenrod]"Oooft.  Right off the bloody bonce.  Good pass, but."[/color]  Banjo said, walking right by the laid-out Lorcán without offering assistance.

[color=darkgoldenrod]"Now [b]THERE[/b] is a sight for sore eyes."[/color]  He said, raising his hands to frame Calliope and the area around her, whilst leaning back and sizing her up with one eye.  [color=darkgoldenrod]"And right by the Esky as well.  Work of bloody art!"[/color]  He popped open the cooler and fingered through a few of the drinks before snatching up one of the craft beers Rory had packed and closing the lid.

He took the top off with a fancy snap, and downed half the bottle.

[color=darkgoldenrod]"Aaah.  No Coopers Pale Ale, but it'll do in a pinch."[/color]

He turned his head to address the growing group, whilst setting up another towel next to Calliope, only clearly unfettered with shade.

[color=darkgoldenrod]"G'Day ladies.  'Raw.  Baxter.  Mei.  Soapstar."[/color]  With careful control he'd been blurring the lines between the words 'Superstar' and 'Soap star' for a while now.  His accent doing even more heavy lifting to make Gil not entirely sure exactly what he was calling him.  He was pretty sure he'd caught on by now, but either wasn't commenting because he didn't want to be dragged into anything petty, or because he couldn't be sure anyone else was hearing the same thing.

Banjo laid down on his towel next to his blonde girlfriend, shit-eating grin at Gil from ear-to-ear.

[color=darkgoldenrod]"How's your day been goin' anyway?"[/color]  He turned to Calli and asked.[/color]