@Rockin Strings you're a little late to be jumping in on the sand-castle incident. A good bit has happened since then. Also, autohitting is not permitted. It's even a bad idea IC, since while bashing sandcastles is cruel, assault is illegal, especially on a girl several feet shorter than the attacker, and I mentioned security was watching. I'd like you to rethink the latter half of your post. Right now, the sandcastle just got rebuilt, the kid (just the one) is with Penny, and two more guys just approached to accost Jess and Penny respectively, those being yellow-eyes and Jude. If you do not change things, security is going to arrest Mark.
Lugubrious
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Bio
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
Most Recent Posts
Pretty much as Rosco expected, his attempts to settle his new acquaintance down resulted in the opposite outcome. The various arguments he'd had over the course of his life, whether with his mother, his sister, or a girlfriend, gave him firsthand experience that telling an angry woman to calm down worked about as well as water on a grease fire. This particular girl launched into a tirade about epithets, letting slip in the process that her powers extended beyond merely shifting position. One thing she said, though, tickled him. “Well, people get upset at misuse of arms all the time,” he pointed out. “It's called assault?”
Of course, she then went and turned things around all him, slapping him in the face with a pretty laughable question. Rosco laughed at it. “Heheh, that's my secret, little missy. Like I said: a private matter,” he said, jokingly. Now that he sensed the situation had deescalated from dangerous, and Aurora's mood from pissed to ornery, he felt pretty good about taking his leave. He grew serious to make an assurance. “I'll be more careful, 'kay?” He gave a polite nod before turning to go. “See ya.”
As he went, headed in the direction of the surf he'd just been deposited in and withdrawn from like an offshore bank account, Rosco couldn't help but glance to the left. It looked like he wasn't the only one making a scene, and the accident paled in comparison to this. Two blonde teenagers up by the dune railing, beyond the spot where the garrulous Texans and friends played volleyball and behind where the rows of beach chairs ran, were engaged in some sort of argument. Rosco shook his head and ignored it, making for the waves. A few onlookers, however, weren't so quick to avert their gaze. They watched with interest and raised eyebrows as the fluffy-haired one with glasses pulled an opulent-ass sword from the mucky sand and abruptly transformed from ordinary to royalty.
One in particular, the young pink-haired girl in green whose own royal abode had been reduced to ruins, stared at Penny with sparkling eyes. She gasped in awe as the teenager summoned forth a handful of adorable gnomes and then commanded them to begin rebuilding the castle. Squealing in delight, little Magnolia (Maggy to her friends, which was everyone except Jessica) raced over and slid to a stop on her knees by the construction sight. She started helping out the workers, who did not mind the extra pair of hands, by pulling up extra sand and packing it tight. Jessica remained nearby, but Maggy didn't seem to notice her getting chewed out by Penny at all. Only when a new castle stood, larger and more magnificent than the last, did Maggy get to her feet, wearing a lot of sand and a wide smile. She ran over to Penny and hugged her leg, saying, “That was so awesome! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! Who are you? You're so cool and pretty!”
Another onlooker approached. A teenager himself, lanky and lean, with short but spiky gray hair, a smattering of dark brown freckles, yellow eyes, and a lopsided grin, he looked like he stepped straight out of a high school detention room in Siberia. Sauntering up with his hands in the pockets of his black cargo shorts, he looked the new sandcastle over before his eyes landed on Penny. “Yeah, pretty...” He flashed Jessica a sly glance before smirking. “Pretty stupid! Who builds a sand castle out of spite? That's, like, a total dork move.”
Despite how he looked, he sounded like a surfer dude, and he rounded on Jessica with a conspiratorial look—the look that close friends might give one another. “C'mon, sis. Let's ditch these lame-o's.” He nodded his head pointedly over his shoulder. A few hundred feet away, one of the resort's security guards, all in white save for his black aviators and thick black beard, was watching. Whether drawn by the whisper of a bully terrorizing sand castles and disrupting the peace, or the flagrant use of an epithet or two, he observed the beachfront in menacing stillness and silence. A number of hotel visitors were also watching, either annoyed, concerned, or both.
The guy took a step in the direction of the southern end of the beach, where waves lapped against a rocky spit that extended a ways into the sea. Signs discouraged climbing on the rocks, but neither the dude nor Jessica were the type to take such warnings seriously. More importantly, there weren't a lot of people there, which would allow Jessica to escape the less-than-desirable attention now fixed on her. Even if she was dying for attention, after all, getting thrown out of the place where she wanted to take a load off would do her no good. All this, the yellow-eyed stranger seemed to understand.
Of course, she then went and turned things around all him, slapping him in the face with a pretty laughable question. Rosco laughed at it. “Heheh, that's my secret, little missy. Like I said: a private matter,” he said, jokingly. Now that he sensed the situation had deescalated from dangerous, and Aurora's mood from pissed to ornery, he felt pretty good about taking his leave. He grew serious to make an assurance. “I'll be more careful, 'kay?” He gave a polite nod before turning to go. “See ya.”
As he went, headed in the direction of the surf he'd just been deposited in and withdrawn from like an offshore bank account, Rosco couldn't help but glance to the left. It looked like he wasn't the only one making a scene, and the accident paled in comparison to this. Two blonde teenagers up by the dune railing, beyond the spot where the garrulous Texans and friends played volleyball and behind where the rows of beach chairs ran, were engaged in some sort of argument. Rosco shook his head and ignored it, making for the waves. A few onlookers, however, weren't so quick to avert their gaze. They watched with interest and raised eyebrows as the fluffy-haired one with glasses pulled an opulent-ass sword from the mucky sand and abruptly transformed from ordinary to royalty.
One in particular, the young pink-haired girl in green whose own royal abode had been reduced to ruins, stared at Penny with sparkling eyes. She gasped in awe as the teenager summoned forth a handful of adorable gnomes and then commanded them to begin rebuilding the castle. Squealing in delight, little Magnolia (Maggy to her friends, which was everyone except Jessica) raced over and slid to a stop on her knees by the construction sight. She started helping out the workers, who did not mind the extra pair of hands, by pulling up extra sand and packing it tight. Jessica remained nearby, but Maggy didn't seem to notice her getting chewed out by Penny at all. Only when a new castle stood, larger and more magnificent than the last, did Maggy get to her feet, wearing a lot of sand and a wide smile. She ran over to Penny and hugged her leg, saying, “That was so awesome! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! Who are you? You're so cool and pretty!”
Another onlooker approached. A teenager himself, lanky and lean, with short but spiky gray hair, a smattering of dark brown freckles, yellow eyes, and a lopsided grin, he looked like he stepped straight out of a high school detention room in Siberia. Sauntering up with his hands in the pockets of his black cargo shorts, he looked the new sandcastle over before his eyes landed on Penny. “Yeah, pretty...” He flashed Jessica a sly glance before smirking. “Pretty stupid! Who builds a sand castle out of spite? That's, like, a total dork move.”
Despite how he looked, he sounded like a surfer dude, and he rounded on Jessica with a conspiratorial look—the look that close friends might give one another. “C'mon, sis. Let's ditch these lame-o's.” He nodded his head pointedly over his shoulder. A few hundred feet away, one of the resort's security guards, all in white save for his black aviators and thick black beard, was watching. Whether drawn by the whisper of a bully terrorizing sand castles and disrupting the peace, or the flagrant use of an epithet or two, he observed the beachfront in menacing stillness and silence. A number of hotel visitors were also watching, either annoyed, concerned, or both.
The guy took a step in the direction of the southern end of the beach, where waves lapped against a rocky spit that extended a ways into the sea. Signs discouraged climbing on the rocks, but neither the dude nor Jessica were the type to take such warnings seriously. More importantly, there weren't a lot of people there, which would allow Jessica to escape the less-than-desirable attention now fixed on her. Even if she was dying for attention, after all, getting thrown out of the place where she wanted to take a load off would do her no good. All this, the yellow-eyed stranger seemed to understand.
@Kafka Komedy Jude is good to go. Paste him into the characters tab and post at will.
Wanted to check and see if these epithet abilities were cool before moving forwards with the sheet?
Seems good to me! Imaginative but reasonably well-defined.
Is this still accepting? I decided to get back into textual roleplay and this seemed a nice way to ease back in. If it is, I'd like to be furnished with my requisite 5 words Mr. GM Sir.
Sure is. Here you are.
Instead of a a girl ready to play the victim, Rosco Lafayette found fire. The girl snatched her notebook, batted away his offered hand, and snapped at him while scribbling in the journal. For a moment Rosco met her with a look of confusion, but just as the word 'accident' came to his lips, he found himself forcefully moved. Suddenly the surf lapped around his calves, and a moment later a -rather small- wave crashed into him. Though even more confused he did not seem bothered, and in fact barely moved or even flinched as the water hit him. Rather, he seemed comfortable, amused, and even relieved. This sort of revenge he could handle, versus the sort a girl screaming accusations and howling for police could bring down upon him. A few onlookers even tittered. The situation was defused.
Obviously, she'd used her epithet to do this to him. No other explanation. The fact that she'd whip it out on a whim like that was equal parts intriguing and worrisome. Rosco turned back to see if the girl had stormed off or needed some sort of additional response to be satisfied. Maybe, he thought, he should have let himself be bowled over, and sealed the deal with a little humiliation. It wasn't like he cared, after all. Unfortunately the girl stuck around, and after a brief pause, shifted him back out of the water. At full height, not stooping down to lend a hand, Rosco towered over her, but clearly the girl didn't lack for spirit. And still with the unfair questions, trying to make the situation into more than what it was. And a threat, too. Did this kid think that her epithet made her invincible? Schools had therapy for that sort of thing. It appeared that it would take a little more to let bygones be bygones.
He held up his hands helplessly, trying to placate her. “Take it easy, little lady. Just an accident. Neither of us were payin' attention. It happens.” Using one hand he took off his shades so that the other could wipe some saltwater off. His eyes were big, a glistening swirl of blue and green, bright as the sea itself. He replaced the shades, put one hand on his waist, and pointed the other at her. “You know, you've got some guts to throw around your epithet like that. Lot of people think it's a private matter, and take usin' it personally. Like a concealed carry, 'cept nobody knows what the gun does.” Rosco wondered about the girl's perspective, and why she acted the way she did. The next man who crossed her might not have her best interests at heart, after all, so if he could leave her with some parting advice he figured it'd be worth a try.
Not too far away, atop the wooden barrier, Penny could get a good look at just about all the beach had to offer, from the fledgling foam pit to the market stalls to the couple of folks floating on their backs a hundred feet or so out from he shore, peacefully soaking up the warm sun in the cool water. The strident voice of Jessica, however, cut into the pleasant scene and grabbed at her attention.
Jessica, wearing a cruelly gleeful smile that showed off sharp teeth, rounded on the teacher lady with remarkable spirit to rebuke her. The woman looked not-at-all affronted by the teenager's choice of insult, and listened with a stony expression until her turn came around to speak. “What you're doing isn't evil,” Noelle told the self-proclaimed evildoer. “It's just sad. You're acting like a middle schooler who's watched too many cartoons. I'm sure security would be glad to escort you off the premises if they learned you were bullying little kids. But I bet your parents wouldn't like that, hm?”
With a knowing smile, Noelle pushed up her glasses. “From the way you talk you sound like you think you're important. You act mean and tough, but what you are is small and soft, clearly well cared-for. Your parents must be big-timers, but I don't see them around. If they were, you could be held accountable. I don't see any friends, either.” Noelle, having been working her way on a progressive line of thought, suddenly shot straight to the conclusion. Her expression took a turn for the sad. “Oh. I see.” She knelt down, wiped the little kid's eyes, and started brushing sand off her. “There you go, sweetie. Let's get you cleaned up. You should go find your mommy and daddy and play near them.”
The child nodded, and after a moment stood up before heading off. Noelle stood up herself, and brushed sand from her legs. A final glance was spared for Jessica, more pitying than anything. “Well, you should stop being a nuisance before security notices. There's plenty to enjoy without bothering anyone.” With that she took her leave, making for the shoreline to join Heath. As she approached she noticed a concerned look haunting him. “What is it?”
“Just...Tucker's not a great swimmer, you know?”
Noelle wrapped an arm around her husband's shoulder. “Relax. He has arm floats on, right? And the lifeguard's watching, too. No reason to worry.” She looked out across the water. The flock of children were nearing the buoy where Lydia clapped and cheered.
Obviously, she'd used her epithet to do this to him. No other explanation. The fact that she'd whip it out on a whim like that was equal parts intriguing and worrisome. Rosco turned back to see if the girl had stormed off or needed some sort of additional response to be satisfied. Maybe, he thought, he should have let himself be bowled over, and sealed the deal with a little humiliation. It wasn't like he cared, after all. Unfortunately the girl stuck around, and after a brief pause, shifted him back out of the water. At full height, not stooping down to lend a hand, Rosco towered over her, but clearly the girl didn't lack for spirit. And still with the unfair questions, trying to make the situation into more than what it was. And a threat, too. Did this kid think that her epithet made her invincible? Schools had therapy for that sort of thing. It appeared that it would take a little more to let bygones be bygones.
He held up his hands helplessly, trying to placate her. “Take it easy, little lady. Just an accident. Neither of us were payin' attention. It happens.” Using one hand he took off his shades so that the other could wipe some saltwater off. His eyes were big, a glistening swirl of blue and green, bright as the sea itself. He replaced the shades, put one hand on his waist, and pointed the other at her. “You know, you've got some guts to throw around your epithet like that. Lot of people think it's a private matter, and take usin' it personally. Like a concealed carry, 'cept nobody knows what the gun does.” Rosco wondered about the girl's perspective, and why she acted the way she did. The next man who crossed her might not have her best interests at heart, after all, so if he could leave her with some parting advice he figured it'd be worth a try.
Not too far away, atop the wooden barrier, Penny could get a good look at just about all the beach had to offer, from the fledgling foam pit to the market stalls to the couple of folks floating on their backs a hundred feet or so out from he shore, peacefully soaking up the warm sun in the cool water. The strident voice of Jessica, however, cut into the pleasant scene and grabbed at her attention.
Jessica, wearing a cruelly gleeful smile that showed off sharp teeth, rounded on the teacher lady with remarkable spirit to rebuke her. The woman looked not-at-all affronted by the teenager's choice of insult, and listened with a stony expression until her turn came around to speak. “What you're doing isn't evil,” Noelle told the self-proclaimed evildoer. “It's just sad. You're acting like a middle schooler who's watched too many cartoons. I'm sure security would be glad to escort you off the premises if they learned you were bullying little kids. But I bet your parents wouldn't like that, hm?”
With a knowing smile, Noelle pushed up her glasses. “From the way you talk you sound like you think you're important. You act mean and tough, but what you are is small and soft, clearly well cared-for. Your parents must be big-timers, but I don't see them around. If they were, you could be held accountable. I don't see any friends, either.” Noelle, having been working her way on a progressive line of thought, suddenly shot straight to the conclusion. Her expression took a turn for the sad. “Oh. I see.” She knelt down, wiped the little kid's eyes, and started brushing sand off her. “There you go, sweetie. Let's get you cleaned up. You should go find your mommy and daddy and play near them.”
The child nodded, and after a moment stood up before heading off. Noelle stood up herself, and brushed sand from her legs. A final glance was spared for Jessica, more pitying than anything. “Well, you should stop being a nuisance before security notices. There's plenty to enjoy without bothering anyone.” With that she took her leave, making for the shoreline to join Heath. As she approached she noticed a concerned look haunting him. “What is it?”
“Just...Tucker's not a great swimmer, you know?”
Noelle wrapped an arm around her husband's shoulder. “Relax. He has arm floats on, right? And the lifeguard's watching, too. No reason to worry.” She looked out across the water. The flock of children were nearing the buoy where Lydia clapped and cheered.
An invasion already, and from a much stronger force at that. How exciting.
For a moment it seemed like it might take a herculean effort to extract Harry from his conversation with a tourist about a board game called Chance Lords, but barely had the question left Penny's mouth than the bearded shopkeeper rounded on her with a gleam in his eye. “Seven ninety-nine!” He declared after just seeing the book's cover. Evidently he knew his wares well; maybe he kept tabs on all potential customers just so he could answer any inquiries the moment they hit the air. “You know, that's a great choice, miss. Really digs up all the hidden depths of this place. They say every land has its secrets, and there's definitely more to this region than meets the eye! Like the Murkmen, or Captain Volantes and the Forever Seabeast. My favorite's the tale of Moving Pictures, which started about thirty years ago in the heart of Sweet Jazz City. I mean, can you picture it? Living graffiti that follows people around at night! Had me looking over my shoulder for years.”
The man had the gift of gab, and he was quite the giver. No matter who it might be, Harry looked overjoyed to be chatting, even if it ended up being pretty one-sided. “So, can I ring it up for you? If there's anything else I can getcha, just lemme know!” He span back toward the other prospective customer and picked up right where he left off, operating the cash register with one hand should Penny go through with the transaction. Harry spared only a glance to count the amount, which he did in remarkable speed, before proceeding to outline the special abilities of every player character in Chance Lords for its interested buyer.
Nearby, happenstance led to a number of new arrivals to the beach at about the same time, which created something of a foot-traffic jam at the main stairs, owed in part to a short, black-haired teenager standing there and staring out at the sea with a notebook. Most of the vacationers got through it just fine, but one man bumped into Aurora as he was putting on a pair of sunglasses. The impact practically bowled the unguarded girl over, and when she looked at the offender, she found a most imposing figure. Standing at six foot ten and weighing three hundred pounds at least, built like a pro wrestler, with skin the color of mahogany and a face like an Easter Island head, he stared down at Aurora with a look of surprise. A half-dozen worried people looked on. “Oh?” he grunted in a deep bass, pulling the shades off again.
His expression turned into one of nervous panic. “Oh God, I'm so sorry, miss. I just didn't see you there. Are you okay? Here.” He stooped, scooped up her notebook with one massive mitt to hold out for her, and offered his other hand to help her up.
The incident, not too far away from the volleyball setup, had drawn Noelle's attention. From her point of view, though, it looked like a perfectly ordinary accident. Even if it wasn't there were a couple dozen people better poised to do something than she, and it wasn't her business. Still, she hoped the knocked-over girl was okay. Her viewing of the event came to a halt when a ringtone sounded out from her bag. Noelle slipped her phone from it, frowned at the unfamiliar number visible on its face, and put it against her ear. On a true tropical vacation there would be no service, or at least none without paying exorbitant fees, but a place like this still in mainland America offered it for free.
“Hello?” She answered cheerily. “Oh, Mrs. Rutherford. Um...that's right, I'm not at the school, in fact. I'm on vacation...what do you mean, 'why?' Everyone deserves a break now and again, right? ...Now, I'm sure if you check the system, you'll see my time off request was approved weeks ago. No, it's just today. The weekend plus yesterday's PTA conferences plus today is my whole trip.” Her smile grew strained. “Yes, yes. take all the time you need.” A few moments went by, which Noelle passed by looking around the beach. She spotted a teenage girl with blonde twintails repeatedly trying to kick a little kid's sandcastle. Noelle frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. What a cruel thing to do, she thought, and after another second the voice of Mrs. Rutherford buzzed in her ear again. “Ah, I'm glad you found it,” she remarked, trying to sound upbeat. The teenager finally succeeded in kicking over the sandcastle -or rather, a small part of it-, gloated uproariously and proceeded to dust the child with sand, too. “Now, is it really my job to secure a substitute? I...it...it is? I thought...the office handled that stuff? …Last month, hm? Well, I'm sorry....alright, I'll see you then.” Noelle laid the phone down on the beach chair and heaved a heavy sigh. After inhaling, she got to her feet and headed for the scene of destruction. Adults could handle their own affairs, but children Noelle could deal with.
She walked right up to where Jessica towered over the crying kid, put her hands on her hips, and said, “What do you think you're doing, tormenting that poor girl? You should be ashamed of yourself!”
Meanwhile, the kids' club had assembled at the water's edge. The little ones watched with excited eyes as a small wave carried a rising star their way. None other than Lydia Forthing, a new but prominent actress, surfed toward a buoy anchored a short distance offshore. “Hey, kids!” she called, waving, as she came to a stop and knelt on her board. With her famous bright green hair, long enough to reach her lower back, snow-white two-piece, and radiant smile, she commandeered the limelight to seize onlookers' attention. The kids cheered, bouncing up and down. Among them were both Lucy and Tucker, the latter of whom looked happy to see her despite being uncommonly familiar with her thanks to their roles in Shadow Boxer. She shouted across the water, “You ready to show you have what it takes to be a superhero like me? All you have to do is swim out around this buoy and back to prove you have real superhero grit! Now, hold up your floaties!”
The children raised their arms, showing off the brightly-striped flotation devices secured around their upper arms. Lydia grinned at the lifeguard on duty, holding up a thumbs-up. The bored-looking man just gave a brief nod, but it was enough to start the show. Lydia raised her arms. “Okay, get ready...go!”
All at once the kids sprinted into the water, splashing up a storm until the sand sank away beneath their feet and they could start doggy-paddling for the buoy. Kneeling on her board, Lydia encouraged them. “Yeah, that's it! Whoo! You've got this!” Noelle spotted Heath among the parents looking on, so while she wanted to watch her children go, she figured she could leave them to Heath while she sorted out this little miscreant. She resumed her stern gaze on Jessica, wordlessly demanding that she try to explain her indefensible actions.
The man had the gift of gab, and he was quite the giver. No matter who it might be, Harry looked overjoyed to be chatting, even if it ended up being pretty one-sided. “So, can I ring it up for you? If there's anything else I can getcha, just lemme know!” He span back toward the other prospective customer and picked up right where he left off, operating the cash register with one hand should Penny go through with the transaction. Harry spared only a glance to count the amount, which he did in remarkable speed, before proceeding to outline the special abilities of every player character in Chance Lords for its interested buyer.
Nearby, happenstance led to a number of new arrivals to the beach at about the same time, which created something of a foot-traffic jam at the main stairs, owed in part to a short, black-haired teenager standing there and staring out at the sea with a notebook. Most of the vacationers got through it just fine, but one man bumped into Aurora as he was putting on a pair of sunglasses. The impact practically bowled the unguarded girl over, and when she looked at the offender, she found a most imposing figure. Standing at six foot ten and weighing three hundred pounds at least, built like a pro wrestler, with skin the color of mahogany and a face like an Easter Island head, he stared down at Aurora with a look of surprise. A half-dozen worried people looked on. “Oh?” he grunted in a deep bass, pulling the shades off again.
His expression turned into one of nervous panic. “Oh God, I'm so sorry, miss. I just didn't see you there. Are you okay? Here.” He stooped, scooped up her notebook with one massive mitt to hold out for her, and offered his other hand to help her up.
The incident, not too far away from the volleyball setup, had drawn Noelle's attention. From her point of view, though, it looked like a perfectly ordinary accident. Even if it wasn't there were a couple dozen people better poised to do something than she, and it wasn't her business. Still, she hoped the knocked-over girl was okay. Her viewing of the event came to a halt when a ringtone sounded out from her bag. Noelle slipped her phone from it, frowned at the unfamiliar number visible on its face, and put it against her ear. On a true tropical vacation there would be no service, or at least none without paying exorbitant fees, but a place like this still in mainland America offered it for free.
“Hello?” She answered cheerily. “Oh, Mrs. Rutherford. Um...that's right, I'm not at the school, in fact. I'm on vacation...what do you mean, 'why?' Everyone deserves a break now and again, right? ...Now, I'm sure if you check the system, you'll see my time off request was approved weeks ago. No, it's just today. The weekend plus yesterday's PTA conferences plus today is my whole trip.” Her smile grew strained. “Yes, yes. take all the time you need.” A few moments went by, which Noelle passed by looking around the beach. She spotted a teenage girl with blonde twintails repeatedly trying to kick a little kid's sandcastle. Noelle frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. What a cruel thing to do, she thought, and after another second the voice of Mrs. Rutherford buzzed in her ear again. “Ah, I'm glad you found it,” she remarked, trying to sound upbeat. The teenager finally succeeded in kicking over the sandcastle -or rather, a small part of it-, gloated uproariously and proceeded to dust the child with sand, too. “Now, is it really my job to secure a substitute? I...it...it is? I thought...the office handled that stuff? …Last month, hm? Well, I'm sorry....alright, I'll see you then.” Noelle laid the phone down on the beach chair and heaved a heavy sigh. After inhaling, she got to her feet and headed for the scene of destruction. Adults could handle their own affairs, but children Noelle could deal with.
She walked right up to where Jessica towered over the crying kid, put her hands on her hips, and said, “What do you think you're doing, tormenting that poor girl? You should be ashamed of yourself!”
Meanwhile, the kids' club had assembled at the water's edge. The little ones watched with excited eyes as a small wave carried a rising star their way. None other than Lydia Forthing, a new but prominent actress, surfed toward a buoy anchored a short distance offshore. “Hey, kids!” she called, waving, as she came to a stop and knelt on her board. With her famous bright green hair, long enough to reach her lower back, snow-white two-piece, and radiant smile, she commandeered the limelight to seize onlookers' attention. The kids cheered, bouncing up and down. Among them were both Lucy and Tucker, the latter of whom looked happy to see her despite being uncommonly familiar with her thanks to their roles in Shadow Boxer. She shouted across the water, “You ready to show you have what it takes to be a superhero like me? All you have to do is swim out around this buoy and back to prove you have real superhero grit! Now, hold up your floaties!”
The children raised their arms, showing off the brightly-striped flotation devices secured around their upper arms. Lydia grinned at the lifeguard on duty, holding up a thumbs-up. The bored-looking man just gave a brief nod, but it was enough to start the show. Lydia raised her arms. “Okay, get ready...go!”
All at once the kids sprinted into the water, splashing up a storm until the sand sank away beneath their feet and they could start doggy-paddling for the buoy. Kneeling on her board, Lydia encouraged them. “Yeah, that's it! Whoo! You've got this!” Noelle spotted Heath among the parents looking on, so while she wanted to watch her children go, she figured she could leave them to Heath while she sorted out this little miscreant. She resumed her stern gaze on Jessica, wordlessly demanding that she try to explain her indefensible actions.
<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>
And there's no way to make it later, is there? I wish I'd known it was that early before my first post. I had them heading to Ted's house at about 9:30-10.
I did mention that it was after eight in one of the first sentences in my post, the events of which transpired over the course of about fifteen minutes total, but I could have made it clearer. It's actually important to the setting that the beach isn't that populated yet, so making it later wouldn't be the best option.
@Dawnrider, Fox is good to go!
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