greasyspoon | Let's Go to the Beach-each, Let's Go Get Away

Gosh golly gee wiz look at that! It's summer! And it's time to take our partying out somewhere nice, maybe the beach! Welp. Break out your bathing suits and get ready, it's time to head out to the beach. Whether you like it or not. How did you get here? Who knows. Who cares. Best just enjoy it, right??

PROMPTS:

01 TIDE POOLS - Well, you don't actually have to check out the beach. There's always the tide pools near by filled with all sorts of delightful life forms.

02 SUNTANNING - Look, some of us aren't with those newfangled spray on tans. We like to get it the old fashioned way.

03 SURFING - Hang ten dudes. Ride the waves. Other. Surfer talk which I have no idea how to fake.

04 a̴ s̷h̴a̵d̸o̶w̸ in the c̴͖̞̰̊͂͝ͅō̶̖̉̌r̶̘̖͔̄̇̐͝n̵̰͔̫̈́ͅe̸̛̪̦̗̋́͜r̵̢̡̞̠͊̆̿̋͠ of your Ë̴͉̙̖̱̞͔̭̩̎͘͘Y̶̢̳͍͆͊́̈̌̇͛̎̄̀͜ͅE̷̲̬̺͎̲͎̪̠̳̠̿̔̽͗͌̅̒͘͝ - Don't worry about it. I'm sure it's fine.

05 SAND CASTLES - Make a fantastic sand creation... or perhaps b̴́͜ų̵͠r̴̼͊ỵ̴́ your friend up to their shoulders.

06 WADING - Enjoy the surf and just wade out into the waves.

07 PICNIC - What's a better place to enjoy fresh summer fruit than the beach?

08 BOARDWALK - Bored of getting sand all in your shorts?? There's a boardwalk to do some shopping or get shaved ice or w/e

09 WILD CARD - ANYWAY YOU WANT IT THAT'S THE WAY YOU NEED IT ANYWAY YOU WANT IT.

Rules:
- have fun

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

1 - [It seems almost...too easy to be at the beach. But Martin isn't of a mind to question it. Not at the moment. In fact, he's thoroughly distracting himself from those thoughts by gingerly making his way on the outcropping of rocks, a small plastic bucket filled with some sand and water clutched in his hand as he careful squats down a bit to peer down into a shallow tide pool. He's wearing suncream, of course, and had brought a wide-brimmed hat to help protect him from the sun, but he can still feel it beating down on the back of his neck, and despite how difficult it is for him to get sunburnt usually, it almost feels like it's cooking him a bit.

But it's not enough to cause concern, yet. He's too distracted with moving bits of seaweed out of the way and peering under it, trying to spot something worth scooping up]

5 - [It's childish, in a way. Martin feels childish, sitting here in the sand, digging deep to find the darker, saturated, more stable building material. And yet, it almost feels good, to do something so single-mindedly. Besides, there's no reason he can't use this as a moat around the castle later. It's all part of the creative building process, after all.]

7 - [he has a blanket, he has the food (sealed in the proper containers), he has a beach umbrella. Now all he has to do is keep the seagulls from stealing any of it. Which is probably why he's sitting there, arms folded, slightly hunched over as he glares out from under the umbrella, eyes looking around keenly for any avian threat. He's worked far too hard on this spread to put up with some bird trying to take it.]

8 - [sometimes you just need a break from all that heat, and Martin certainly feels like he does. He feels like he's absolutely roasting out here. So he's wandered up towards the boardwalk, intent on getting something to help cool himself off. At the moment, he seems to be torn between shaved ice and sorbet, looking back and forth between the shaved ice stand in front of him and the ice cream shop a couple doors down.]

4̷̛́̈͗͐͛̇ - [Martin hasn't been to a beach in, well...really, a very long time. And certainly not one like this, with its soft sands and warm waters and rocks perfect for tide-pooling a bit aways. It's nice; a breath of fresh air tinged with salt and spray, wind whipping through his hair when he takes off his sun hat. It's peaceful and calm and cozy. Really, part of him wishes that he could stay here forever, like this. It's just...nice. And isn't he allowed to just enough the nice for once?

Just...enjoy it and not think about anything. What could there be to think about right now, anyway? Everything is perfect here.

Except for, well...there might be a slight sensation of being watched or stared at. But that's not unusual when he goes to the beach. Martin swallows, tugging a bit on his t-shirt, shifting it a bit so it hangs differently. But that mildly disquieting feeling doesn't go away. It sits like background static in his head; white noise that he tries to ignore in favor of experiencing the beach as it is right now. That's what's best, right?]

Edited 2020-07-08 19:40 (UTC)

[It's so rewarding, isn't it, to follow that instinctual human urge to build, to shape your surroundings into neat little structures. Sturdy little walls that set comforting boundaries between what is Inside and what is Outside. And of course there's the mindless, repetitive movement of digging, dragging your hands through the damp, coarse sand over and over again, calming, carefree. It's easy to get lost in such an endeavor, mesmerizing as it is.

That is, until Martin's fingers suddenly scrape against something distinctly solid in the packed sand. It appears to be some kind of metal... knob? Weird!]

01 [There's something very nostalgic about tide pools. Or, more accurately, stooping over them to catalogue their myriad and alien inhabitants. No grander purpose to it than curiosity, untainted and Eye-free, watching ocean minutiae going about their inscrutable business. Maybe she will try her hand at drawing and naming a few of them later, pretending that the herding of information is meaningless and enjoyable. Or maybe just collect some seaglass or interesting shells for her desk, if she can turn a blind eye to their Fibonacci proportions. ~~Maybe a dead crab for Elias' desk drawer instead.~~] Yes, very pleasant, nostalgia.

02 [It wouldn't be accurate to call what Gertrude is doing tanning, as it involves fully too much umbrella and cheerful stripey sunhat for that, but the spirit of the activity remains the same. And perhaps enough of the former Archivist's primly crossed feet will catch the rays to count, letting the heat of sunbaked sand radiate into aching bones that are anything but dreamlike. This is not her usual purview, but she finds herself uninterested in complaining, battered but library-stamp free paperback in one hand and rebelliously un-coozied beverage in the other. ~~No laws when you're drinkin Claws, amiright?~~ If the apocalypse means to make a target of this beach, it will simply wait until she finishes this chapter. ]

Let's Go to the Beach-each, Let's Go Get Away

Martin K. Blackwood | The Magnus Archives

5

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