The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
Yiannis couldn't possibly be happier. He had picked the best time for his shore leave, to say nothing of the destination. He'd had an amazing time at the first day of the festival, with Sons of an Illustrious Cobra trying off the evening before everyone returned to their hotel rooms. He had almost found someone interesting enough to see where things might go that evening, before she got sick on a crossfaded cocktail of weed, booze, and who knew what else. But that was just part of the atmosphere.
Today, however, was very different. The Midas Touch was providing a mostly pleasant background carried over from the stage, but he was intent on taking in as much Sun and sand as he could. He'd spent the morning enjoying a pick-up game of disc golf when a trio's fourth never showed, scoring a birdie on nearly every shot as he charmed them with stories of barracks pranks, boot camp insults he'd suffered from his drill sergeant, and best of all, nonsensical maintenance requests. When they'd parted ways as it turned out their friend had overdosed and was hospitalized, he decided to meet the solitude of the waves. It lasted a good half-hour before the cacophony of fans started to drift back, which is about the time he guessed he saw a lovely-looking surfer paddling out to meet the tide. "What I wouldn't give for some binoculars right now," he said to himself, and decided to root to the spot, feeling a certain kinship as she rode the swells, gradually wrapping his head around the aerodynamics necessary to pull off tricks the way she did. But what truly blew his mind was when she rode a tube like a pro. There were a hundred thousand people on this beach right now, but like him, she was a cut above all the rest.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Yiannis couldn't possibly be happier. He had picked the best time for his shore leave, to say nothing of the destination. He'd had an amazing time at the first day of the festival, with Sons of an Illustrious Cobra trying off the evening before everyone returned to their hotel rooms. He had almost found someone interesting enough to see where things might go that evening, before she got sick on a crossfaded cocktail of weed, booze, and who knew what else. But that was just part of the atmosphere.
Today, however, was very different. The Midas Touch was providing a mostly pleasant background carried over from the stage, but he was intent on taking in as much Sun and sand as he could. He'd spent the morning enjoying a pick-up game of disc golf when a trio's fourth never showed, scoring a birdie on nearly every shot as he charmed them with stories of barracks pranks, boot camp insults he'd suffered from his drill sergeant, and best of all, nonsensical maintenance requests. When they'd parted ways as it turned out their friend had overdosed and was hospitalized, he decided to meet the solitude of the waves. It lasted a good half-hour before the cacophony of fans started to drift back, which is about the time he guessed he saw a lovely-looking surfer paddling out to meet the tide. "What I wouldn't give for some binoculars right now," he said to himself, and decided to root to the spot, feeling a certain kinship as she rode the swells, gradually wrapping his head around the aerodynamics necessary to pull off tricks the way she did. But what truly blew his mind was when she rode a tube like a pro. There were a hundred thousand people on this beach right now, but like him, she was a cut above all the rest.
Yiannis couldn't possibly be happier. He had picked the best time for his shore leave, to say nothing of the destination. He'd had an amazing time at the first day of the festival, with Sons of an Illustrious Cobra trying off the evening before everyone returned to their hotel rooms. He had almost found someone interesting enough to see where things might go that evening, before she got sick on a crossfaded cocktail of weed, booze, and who knew what else. But that was just part of the atmosphere.
Today, however, was very different. The Midas Touch was providing a mostly pleasant background carried over from the stage, but he was intent on taking in as much Sun and sand as he could. He'd spent the morning enjoying a pick-up game of disc golf when a trio's fourth never showed, scoring a birdie on nearly every shot as he charmed them with stories of barracks pranks, boot camp insults he'd suffered from his drill sergeant, and best of all, nonsensical maintenance requests. When they'd parted ways as it turned out their friend had overdosed and was hospitalized, he decided to meet the solitude of the waves. It lasted a good half-hour before the cacophony of fans started to drift back, which is about the time he guessed he saw a lovely-looking surfer paddling out to meet the tide. "What I wouldn't give for some binoculars right now," he said to himself, and decided to root to the spot, feeling a certain kinship as she rode the swells, gradually wrapping his head around the aerodynamics necessary to pull off tricks the way she did. But what truly blew his mind was when she rode a tube like a pro. There were a hundred thousand people on this beach right now, but like him, she was a cut above all the rest.
‘…There is freedom within, there is freedom without Try to catch a deluge in a paper cup There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost But you'll never see the end of the road While you're traveling with me…’
Electric blue eyes had studied the rolling waves, counting the line up and identifying the first and often best of the set, noting the highest sections on the horizon, and instantly weeding out any leveled wave lines, discarding those for their close out. Studying the break of the waves she could fine-tune the position of the peak, calculating take-off time and speed for the optimal chance. For days in advance, she’d studied the weather patterns and moon position, choosing the right surfboard with the most appropriate fin for the conditions. Flattening herself on the board, she’d paddled out, closed fingers, to meet the next wave set, anticipation bubbling within her. At exactly the right moment, the petite blonde sprang upwards, getting to her feet, knees bent, center of gravity low. She’d timed it just right; the momentum was good, the wave was forming, and a fierce smirk crossed her face as she prepared to champion nature.
As the push began, the wave surging, she adjusted her back foot closer to the tail of the board to allow for faster turning as she attacked the lip of the wave. There was naught but smug satisfaction for her, cutting across the water as it rose and coiled. The superiority she felt was short-lived, as her eyes took in the wave lip as unexpectedly it faltered and began to fail. On near autopilot, the tiny blonde buried the surfboard’s rails into the slowest part of the wave in a perfectly executed bottom turn, projecting her into the speed zone and allowing her to continue trimming the wave all the way down the line of it. She’d done it, successfully navigated a catastrophe, but it was far from an easy ride. She continued to watch the wave’s behavior, necessary to manage its face time, and the duration of her ride. She fine tuned her focus on her rail-to-rail, the strategic series of carves down the line of the wave, keeping her from drifting too deep into the barrel. It was only through these cuts that she could gain the necessary speed to perform tricks.
Hitting what she estimated as the top speed, Rene kept herself and the board close to the pocket, and tipped the board back towards the wave lip in a tight bottom turn. In perfectly timed choreography, Rene shifted her weight between her heels, shoulders, arms, legs and toes to angle the board in a tight arc towards the lip and back down, her balance flowing to guide the board up and down the white water in a series of roundhouse cutbacks.
'...Now I'm towing my car, there's a hole in the roof My possessions are causing me suspicion but there's no proof In the paper today, tales of war and of waste But you turn right over to the TV page..'
In her head, the music kept playing, and she kept singing along, her eyes watching the wave, already contemplating her next move. It was time to once again build speed, and Rene pulled another incredibly tight bottom turn to do so. Angling up towards the foam, she chose her path, her form low and compact as she came out of the turn. Shifting her weight to her toe side rail, sapphire eyes chose the section she intended to hit off, and set her line at an eighty degree angle towards the lip. Her trailing arm dropped back as her shoulders opened, and just as the nose of the board lifted above the top of the water off the lip, she engaged rotation. Her eyes were already moving for the trajectory back down the wave lip, she threw her weight forward so that the its outside rails flattened against the wave face.With her weight shifted towards the front, the tail end of the board began to slide down the wave face, pushed to the fore as the wave traveled. Rene kept her stance super low, such that she was able to reach down and brush her fingers against the surfboard, eyes constantly studying the movement of the wave so she could make the necessary calculations to stay upright. When she’d ridden the tailslide as long as she’d dared, she picked her path once more, and shifted her weight to her back foot, using it as a pivot point for the front of the board to once more spin forward and resume the ride towards the shoreline. She was satisfied more or less with the frontside tailslide, but still found room for improvement.
As the wave died the closer it reached the shore, Rene dismounted the board, cast into the water relatively easily and quickly recovering to her feet. Step by step she ascended the shore line, each inch of her emerging a little more as she did so; shoulders, chest, bikini top, slender arms, tiny waist, hips adorned with the string ties of her bottoms on either side. She carried her board under one arm, a neoprene band around her ankle where the urethane tether connected her to it. Striding up the shoreline, there was a sole occupant visible on the beach, an attractive young man who seemed to be enjoying the show. Rene’s free hand rose to strain the water from her cornsilk blonde locks as she made her way up the shoreline.
“The beach never looked so good,” she smirked at the looker with his ass planted solidly in the sand. She tossed out a few lyrics as a test of sorts, singing them with a sweet and melodious voice as she materialized from the water, the droplets streaming down her sun-kissed body like Aphrodite herself drifting up from the ocean.
"Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over Hey now, hey now, when the world comes in......"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
‘…There is freedom within, there is freedom without Try to catch a deluge in a paper cup There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost But you'll never see the end of the road While you're traveling with me…’
Electric blue eyes had studied the rolling waves, counting the line up and identifying the first and often best of the set, noting the highest sections on the horizon, and instantly weeding out any leveled wave lines, discarding those for their close out. Studying the break of the waves she could fine-tune the position of the peak, calculating take-off time and speed for the optimal chance. For days in advance, she’d studied the weather patterns and moon position, choosing the right surfboard with the most appropriate fin for the conditions. Flattening herself on the board, she’d paddled out, closed fingers, to meet the next wave set, anticipation bubbling within her. At exactly the right moment, the petite blonde sprang upwards, getting to her feet, knees bent, center of gravity low. She’d timed it just right; the momentum was good, the wave was forming, and a fierce smirk crossed her face as she prepared to champion nature.
As the push began, the wave surging, she adjusted her back foot closer to the tail of the board to allow for faster turning as she attacked the lip of the wave. There was naught but smug satisfaction for her, cutting across the water as it rose and coiled. The superiority she felt was short-lived, as her eyes took in the wave lip as unexpectedly it faltered and began to fail. On near autopilot, the tiny blonde buried the surfboard’s rails into the slowest part of the wave in a perfectly executed bottom turn, projecting her into the speed zone and allowing her to continue trimming the wave all the way down the line of it. She’d done it, successfully navigated a catastrophe, but it was far from an easy ride. She continued to watch the wave’s behavior, necessary to manage its face time, and the duration of her ride. She fine tuned her focus on her rail-to-rail, the strategic series of carves down the line of the wave, keeping her from drifting too deep into the barrel. It was only through these cuts that she could gain the necessary speed to perform tricks.
Hitting what she estimated as the top speed, Rene kept herself and the board close to the pocket, and tipped the board back towards the wave lip in a tight bottom turn. In perfectly timed choreography, Rene shifted her weight between her heels, shoulders, arms, legs and toes to angle the board in a tight arc towards the lip and back down, her balance flowing to guide the board up and down the white water in a series of roundhouse cutbacks.
'...Now I'm towing my car, there's a hole in the roof My possessions are causing me suspicion but there's no proof In the paper today, tales of war and of waste But you turn right over to the TV page..'
In her head, the music kept playing, and she kept singing along, her eyes watching the wave, already contemplating her next move. It was time to once again build speed, and Rene pulled another incredibly tight bottom turn to do so. Angling up towards the foam, she chose her path, her form low and compact as she came out of the turn. Shifting her weight to her toe side rail, sapphire eyes chose the section she intended to hit off, and set her line at an eighty degree angle towards the lip. Her trailing arm dropped back as her shoulders opened, and just as the nose of the board lifted above the top of the water off the lip, she engaged rotation. Her eyes were already moving for the trajectory back down the wave lip, she threw her weight forward so that the its outside rails flattened against the wave face.With her weight shifted towards the front, the tail end of the board began to slide down the wave face, pushed to the fore as the wave traveled. Rene kept her stance super low, such that she was able to reach down and brush her fingers against the surfboard, eyes constantly studying the movement of the wave so she could make the necessary calculations to stay upright. When she’d ridden the tailslide as long as she’d dared, she picked her path once more, and shifted her weight to her back foot, using it as a pivot point for the front of the board to once more spin forward and resume the ride towards the shoreline. She was satisfied more or less with the frontside tailslide, but still found room for improvement.
As the wave died the closer it reached the shore, Rene dismounted the board, cast into the water relatively easily and quickly recovering to her feet. Step by step she ascended the shore line, each inch of her emerging a little more as she did so; shoulders, chest, bikini top, slender arms, tiny waist, hips adorned with the string ties of her bottoms on either side. She carried her board under one arm, a neoprene band around her ankle where the urethane tether connected her to it. Striding up the shoreline, there was a sole occupant visible on the beach, an attractive young man who seemed to be enjoying the show. Rene’s free hand rose to strain the water from her cornsilk blonde locks as she made her way up the shoreline.
“The beach never looked so good,” she smirked at the looker with his ass planted solidly in the sand. She tossed out a few lyrics as a test of sorts, singing them with a sweet and melodious voice as she materialized from the water, the droplets streaming down her sun-kissed body like Aphrodite herself drifting up from the ocean.
"Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over Hey now, hey now, when the world comes in......"
‘…There is freedom within, there is freedom without Try to catch a deluge in a paper cup There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost But you'll never see the end of the road While you're traveling with me…’
Electric blue eyes had studied the rolling waves, counting the line up and identifying the first and often best of the set, noting the highest sections on the horizon, and instantly weeding out any leveled wave lines, discarding those for their close out. Studying the break of the waves she could fine-tune the position of the peak, calculating take-off time and speed for the optimal chance. For days in advance, she’d studied the weather patterns and moon position, choosing the right surfboard with the most appropriate fin for the conditions. Flattening herself on the board, she’d paddled out, closed fingers, to meet the next wave set, anticipation bubbling within her. At exactly the right moment, the petite blonde sprang upwards, getting to her feet, knees bent, center of gravity low. She’d timed it just right; the momentum was good, the wave was forming, and a fierce smirk crossed her face as she prepared to champion nature.
As the push began, the wave surging, she adjusted her back foot closer to the tail of the board to allow for faster turning as she attacked the lip of the wave. There was naught but smug satisfaction for her, cutting across the water as it rose and coiled. The superiority she felt was short-lived, as her eyes took in the wave lip as unexpectedly it faltered and began to fail. On near autopilot, the tiny blonde buried the surfboard’s rails into the slowest part of the wave in a perfectly executed bottom turn, projecting her into the speed zone and allowing her to continue trimming the wave all the way down the line of it. She’d done it, successfully navigated a catastrophe, but it was far from an easy ride. She continued to watch the wave’s behavior, necessary to manage its face time, and the duration of her ride. She fine tuned her focus on her rail-to-rail, the strategic series of carves down the line of the wave, keeping her from drifting too deep into the barrel. It was only through these cuts that she could gain the necessary speed to perform tricks.
Hitting what she estimated as the top speed, Rene kept herself and the board close to the pocket, and tipped the board back towards the wave lip in a tight bottom turn. In perfectly timed choreography, Rene shifted her weight between her heels, shoulders, arms, legs and toes to angle the board in a tight arc towards the lip and back down, her balance flowing to guide the board up and down the white water in a series of roundhouse cutbacks.
'...Now I'm towing my car, there's a hole in the roof My possessions are causing me suspicion but there's no proof In the paper today, tales of war and of waste But you turn right over to the TV page..'
In her head, the music kept playing, and she kept singing along, her eyes watching the wave, already contemplating her next move. It was time to once again build speed, and Rene pulled another incredibly tight bottom turn to do so. Angling up towards the foam, she chose her path, her form low and compact as she came out of the turn. Shifting her weight to her toe side rail, sapphire eyes chose the section she intended to hit off, and set her line at an eighty degree angle towards the lip. Her trailing arm dropped back as her shoulders opened, and just as the nose of the board lifted above the top of the water off the lip, she engaged rotation. Her eyes were already moving for the trajectory back down the wave lip, she threw her weight forward so that the its outside rails flattened against the wave face.With her weight shifted towards the front, the tail end of the board began to slide down the wave face, pushed to the fore as the wave traveled. Rene kept her stance super low, such that she was able to reach down and brush her fingers against the surfboard, eyes constantly studying the movement of the wave so she could make the necessary calculations to stay upright. When she’d ridden the tailslide as long as she’d dared, she picked her path once more, and shifted her weight to her back foot, using it as a pivot point for the front of the board to once more spin forward and resume the ride towards the shoreline. She was satisfied more or less with the frontside tailslide, but still found room for improvement.
As the wave died the closer it reached the shore, Rene dismounted the board, cast into the water relatively easily and quickly recovering to her feet. Step by step she ascended the shore line, each inch of her emerging a little more as she did so; shoulders, chest, bikini top, slender arms, tiny waist, hips adorned with the string ties of her bottoms on either side. She carried her board under one arm, a neoprene band around her ankle where the urethane tether connected her to it. Striding up the shoreline, there was a sole occupant visible on the beach, an attractive young man who seemed to be enjoying the show. Rene’s free hand rose to strain the water from her cornsilk blonde locks as she made her way up the shoreline.
“The beach never looked so good,” she smirked at the looker with his ass planted solidly in the sand. She tossed out a few lyrics as a test of sorts, singing them with a sweet and melodious voice as she materialized from the water, the droplets streaming down her sun-kissed body like Aphrodite herself drifting up from the ocean.
"Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over Hey now, hey now, when the world comes in......"
As the blonde and bronzed beauty rose up from the ocean, he fought the urge to pull down his aviators while he stood, deciding to maintain an air of mystery. Much to his surprise, she greeted him with a song, one that he struggled to recall for a moment before spreading his arms and doing the best he could. "Oh when they come, they'll build a wall between us, but we won't let them win..." he returned, full of vim and spirit. "You've got excellent taste for beach songs, Kokomo," he said, taking notice of the branding on her board.
"Is this where you come to get away from it all?"[i/] he asked as he slipped back into his smooth singing voice, pitching the surf classic back to her. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something immediately and remarkably fun about the woman. "My name's Yiannis," he said as he offered his hand, the braided hemp bracelet he'd picked up serving as a perfect compliment to his coca shell necklace. He looked every part a beach bum, with the sole exception of his high and tight haircut which stood out as a stark contrast to the remaining ensemble of blue board shorts and nearby flip-flops. The tattoo between his pecs of a gauntlet holding a morning star also said there was more to his story than what his appearance alone might tell, but he wasn't about to give up the ghost too easily.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
As the blonde and bronzed beauty rose up from the ocean, he fought the urge to pull down his aviators while he stood, deciding to maintain an air of mystery. Much to his surprise, she greeted him with a song, one that he struggled to recall for a moment before spreading his arms and doing the best he could. "Oh when they come, they'll build a wall between us, but we won't let them win..." he returned, full of vim and spirit. "You've got excellent taste for beach songs, Kokomo," he said, taking notice of the branding on her board.
"Is this where you come to get away from it all?"[i/] he asked as he slipped back into his smooth singing voice, pitching the surf classic back to her. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something immediately and remarkably fun about the woman. "My name's Yiannis," he said as he offered his hand, the braided hemp bracelet he'd picked up serving as a perfect compliment to his coca shell necklace. He looked every part a beach bum, with the sole exception of his high and tight haircut which stood out as a stark contrast to the remaining ensemble of blue board shorts and nearby flip-flops. The tattoo between his pecs of a gauntlet holding a morning star also said there was more to his story than what his appearance alone might tell, but he wasn't about to give up the ghost too easily.
As the blonde and bronzed beauty rose up from the ocean, he fought the urge to pull down his aviators while he stood, deciding to maintain an air of mystery. Much to his surprise, she greeted him with a song, one that he struggled to recall for a moment before spreading his arms and doing the best he could. "Oh when they come, they'll build a wall between us, but we won't let them win..." he returned, full of vim and spirit. "You've got excellent taste for beach songs, Kokomo," he said, taking notice of the branding on her board.
"Is this where you come to get away from it all?"[i/] he asked as he slipped back into his smooth singing voice, pitching the surf classic back to her. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something immediately and remarkably fun about the woman. "My name's Yiannis," he said as he offered his hand, the braided hemp bracelet he'd picked up serving as a perfect compliment to his coca shell necklace. He looked every part a beach bum, with the sole exception of his high and tight haircut which stood out as a stark contrast to the remaining ensemble of blue board shorts and nearby flip-flops. The tattoo between his pecs of a gauntlet holding a morning star also said there was more to his story than what his appearance alone might tell, but he wasn't about to give up the ghost too easily.
As if magnificently on cue, he spread his arms to serenade the entirety of the beach and finished the lyric, belting out the Crowded House song in a pitch deeper than a tenor. ‘Oh when they come, they'll build a wall between us, but we won't let them win...You've got excellent taste for beach songs, Kokomo.’
The petite blonde padded up the shoreline, pausing to ring water from shoulder length tresses, laughing a bit at the boisterous yet prolific manner in which the young buck accepted the challenge and delivered. When he commented on her custom wooden board, she canted her head and grinned as she brushed a few errant droplets from her eyes. “You’re not a Shubie are you?” she teased him a tad before casting a glance back over a shoulder to the water behind her for a moment. “The weather report said we’d have some high winds and good waves today, so I wanted the thruster setup, and the Kokomo’s got it,” she noted, lifting her foot to peel open the velcro of the thick neoprene ankle band attached to the board’s leash. “Pulled some dawn patrol yesterday, quieter for sure so did fine with the twin fin.”
‘Is this where you come to get away from it all?’
Rene giggled when he revisited his singing voice. “If so I did a poor job of it. I mean, you're here,” she took a crack at him and seasoned it with a playful wink. “Sure don’t mind the view though. And quite the bard it seems. Lucky me.” Men had such fragile egos, she saw fit to bolster his a bit lest he misinterpret her humor. “But yes, out there is where I go to get away from it all,” she motioned the great expanse of the water, consuming the entirety of the horizon. “At least for a little bit anyway.”
‘My name's Yiannis.’
A hand was extended towards her which she regarded summarily before accepting it and offering her own to shake. “Rene. Is Yiannis a family name?” she noted, as she’d never heard such a name before. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that someone with a name like Yiannis does not come from a podunk town in the midwest that boasts more cattle than people, by a landslide, and whose claim to fame is something outlandish and obscure like being the home of the most grain silos than any other place in the country,” she smirked as she shook his hand and giving him a more attentive once over. “The only people to sport hair like that are in the military. ROTC I’m guessing?” She only knew of such things because both the Army and Air Force had ROTC programs at her school, and they were the only people she ever saw walking around with such neat and trimmed hair.
Rene herself wore minimal jewelry, consisting of a necklace with a shark pendant and a beaded anklet. Her bikini featured ties on the side, and a wider banded top to provide adequate support and coverage required for paddling, surfing and potentially biting the waves when coming off, the back of it laced up like a corset.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
As if magnificently on cue, he spread his arms to serenade the entirety of the beach and finished the lyric, belting out the Crowded House song in a pitch deeper than a tenor. ‘Oh when they come, they'll build a wall between us, but we won't let them win...You've got excellent taste for beach songs, Kokomo.’
The petite blonde padded up the shoreline, pausing to ring water from shoulder length tresses, laughing a bit at the boisterous yet prolific manner in which the young buck accepted the challenge and delivered. When he commented on her custom wooden board, she canted her head and grinned as she brushed a few errant droplets from her eyes. “You’re not a Shubie are you?” she teased him a tad before casting a glance back over a shoulder to the water behind her for a moment. “The weather report said we’d have some high winds and good waves today, so I wanted the thruster setup, and the Kokomo’s got it,” she noted, lifting her foot to peel open the velcro of the thick neoprene ankle band attached to the board’s leash. “Pulled some dawn patrol yesterday, quieter for sure so did fine with the twin fin.”
‘Is this where you come to get away from it all?’
Rene giggled when he revisited his singing voice. “If so I did a poor job of it. I mean, you're here,” she took a crack at him and seasoned it with a playful wink. “Sure don’t mind the view though. And quite the bard it seems. Lucky me.” Men had such fragile egos, she saw fit to bolster his a bit lest he misinterpret her humor. “But yes, out there is where I go to get away from it all,” she motioned the great expanse of the water, consuming the entirety of the horizon. “At least for a little bit anyway.”
‘My name's Yiannis.’
A hand was extended towards her which she regarded summarily before accepting it and offering her own to shake. “Rene. Is Yiannis a family name?” she noted, as she’d never heard such a name before. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that someone with a name like Yiannis does not come from a podunk town in the midwest that boasts more cattle than people, by a landslide, and whose claim to fame is something outlandish and obscure like being the home of the most grain silos than any other place in the country,” she smirked as she shook his hand and giving him a more attentive once over. “The only people to sport hair like that are in the military. ROTC I’m guessing?” She only knew of such things because both the Army and Air Force had ROTC programs at her school, and they were the only people she ever saw walking around with such neat and trimmed hair.
Rene herself wore minimal jewelry, consisting of a necklace with a shark pendant and a beaded anklet. Her bikini featured ties on the side, and a wider banded top to provide adequate support and coverage required for paddling, surfing and potentially biting the waves when coming off, the back of it laced up like a corset.
As if magnificently on cue, he spread his arms to serenade the entirety of the beach and finished the lyric, belting out the Crowded House song in a pitch deeper than a tenor. ‘Oh when they come, they'll build a wall between us, but we won't let them win...You've got excellent taste for beach songs, Kokomo.’
The petite blonde padded up the shoreline, pausing to ring water from shoulder length tresses, laughing a bit at the boisterous yet prolific manner in which the young buck accepted the challenge and delivered. When he commented on her custom wooden board, she canted her head and grinned as she brushed a few errant droplets from her eyes. “You’re not a Shubie are you?” she teased him a tad before casting a glance back over a shoulder to the water behind her for a moment. “The weather report said we’d have some high winds and good waves today, so I wanted the thruster setup, and the Kokomo’s got it,” she noted, lifting her foot to peel open the velcro of the thick neoprene ankle band attached to the board’s leash. “Pulled some dawn patrol yesterday, quieter for sure so did fine with the twin fin.”
‘Is this where you come to get away from it all?’
Rene giggled when he revisited his singing voice. “If so I did a poor job of it. I mean, you're here,” she took a crack at him and seasoned it with a playful wink. “Sure don’t mind the view though. And quite the bard it seems. Lucky me.” Men had such fragile egos, she saw fit to bolster his a bit lest he misinterpret her humor. “But yes, out there is where I go to get away from it all,” she motioned the great expanse of the water, consuming the entirety of the horizon. “At least for a little bit anyway.”
‘My name's Yiannis.’
A hand was extended towards her which she regarded summarily before accepting it and offering her own to shake. “Rene. Is Yiannis a family name?” she noted, as she’d never heard such a name before. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that someone with a name like Yiannis does not come from a podunk town in the midwest that boasts more cattle than people, by a landslide, and whose claim to fame is something outlandish and obscure like being the home of the most grain silos than any other place in the country,” she smirked as she shook his hand and giving him a more attentive once over. “The only people to sport hair like that are in the military. ROTC I’m guessing?” She only knew of such things because both the Army and Air Force had ROTC programs at her school, and they were the only people she ever saw walking around with such neat and trimmed hair.
Rene herself wore minimal jewelry, consisting of a necklace with a shark pendant and a beaded anklet. Her bikini featured ties on the side, and a wider banded top to provide adequate support and coverage required for paddling, surfing and potentially biting the waves when coming off, the back of it laced up like a corset.
Her brilliant smile lit up the oceanside once he made her laugh, and he was instantly taken with the demure look she had when she tilted her head to ring her hair dry. “You’re not a Shubie, are you?”
Totally unfamiliar with the term, he decided to take a shot in the dark, playing off a music reference because that already seemed to be her vibe. "Would you believe me if I told you I'm the guy Salt-N-Pepa wrote that about?" he asked with a smile so sly a fox could take lessons. He was born the year the song debuted, if that, but it was almost believable the way he sold it. “The weather report said we’d have some high winds and good waves today, so I wanted the thruster setup, and the Kokomo’s got it." She busied herself for a moment freeing her ankle from the safety harness, before she added “Pulled some dawn patrol yesterday, quieter for sure so did fine with the twin fin.”
He came to grips with a few terms about how her boards were made for different purposes, weather patterns, and so on, learning on the fly as she laid it on him. Then she told him about what sounded like one of the most idyllic experiences of her life. "Surfing in the sunrise? God, that's gotta be magnificent. Tell me what that was like," he asked, looking to vicariously experience it through her.
“If so I did a poor job of it. I mean, you're here.” He laughed when she had a go, but didn't miss that promising wink. “Sure don’t mind the view though. And quite the bard it seems. Lucky me.” Flexing his bicep as nonchalantly as he spoke, he chimed in with "I go where I'm most needed, even if I don't know where that is before I get there," and flashed his smile at her again, one full of sheer joy. “But yes, out there is where I go to get away from it all. At least for a little bit anyway.”
"Yeah, it's incredible to be seaside again. I've spent the better part of the year surrounded by water. Either that, or in the sky," he alluded. It was just enough to hook her attention, getting her to ask the right questions. Shaking her hand, he noted her remarkably smooth skin, no doubt from plenty of sunblock with moisturizer. It made him want to run his fingers up her arm, lean in for that fresh scent of salt water and coconut, a feast for his senses. “Rene. Is Yiannis a family name?”
"You've got it. Second generation born in the United States. Look up 'Greek Orthodox' in the dictionary, you'll see a picture of my Grandfather," he said with a grin. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that someone with a name like Yiannis does not come from a podunk town in the midwest that boasts more cattle than people, by a landslide, and whose claim to fame is something outlandish and obscure like being the home of the most grain silos than any other place in the country."
He started chuckling somewhere around the mention of a podunk town, and she didn't let up until he was at her mercy. "You're a slayer with those jokes,' he told her. "That's pretty much the opposite of what I usually hear. When most people hear my name, they think I'm from Amish country. I have to correct them *real* fast," he told her, before she started to put a picture of him together. “The only people to sport hair like that are in the military. ROTC I’m guessing?”
"And here I only know three things about you. Beautiful Rene loves to surf," he replied before gently touching her arm. "Why don't we have a walk on the beach and you tell me a little more?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Her brilliant smile lit up the oceanside once he made her laugh, and he was instantly taken with the demure look she had when she tilted her head to ring her hair dry. “You’re not a Shubie, are you?”
Totally unfamiliar with the term, he decided to take a shot in the dark, playing off a music reference because that already seemed to be her vibe. "Would you believe me if I told you I'm the guy Salt-N-Pepa wrote that about?" he asked with a smile so sly a fox could take lessons. He was born the year the song debuted, if that, but it was almost believable the way he sold it. “The weather report said we’d have some high winds and good waves today, so I wanted the thruster setup, and the Kokomo’s got it." She busied herself for a moment freeing her ankle from the safety harness, before she added “Pulled some dawn patrol yesterday, quieter for sure so did fine with the twin fin.”
He came to grips with a few terms about how her boards were made for different purposes, weather patterns, and so on, learning on the fly as she laid it on him. Then she told him about what sounded like one of the most idyllic experiences of her life. "Surfing in the sunrise? God, that's gotta be magnificent. Tell me what that was like," he asked, looking to vicariously experience it through her.
“If so I did a poor job of it. I mean, you're here.” He laughed when she had a go, but didn't miss that promising wink. “Sure don’t mind the view though. And quite the bard it seems. Lucky me.” Flexing his bicep as nonchalantly as he spoke, he chimed in with "I go where I'm most needed, even if I don't know where that is before I get there," and flashed his smile at her again, one full of sheer joy. “But yes, out there is where I go to get away from it all. At least for a little bit anyway.”
"Yeah, it's incredible to be seaside again. I've spent the better part of the year surrounded by water. Either that, or in the sky," he alluded. It was just enough to hook her attention, getting her to ask the right questions. Shaking her hand, he noted her remarkably smooth skin, no doubt from plenty of sunblock with moisturizer. It made him want to run his fingers up her arm, lean in for that fresh scent of salt water and coconut, a feast for his senses. “Rene. Is Yiannis a family name?”
"You've got it. Second generation born in the United States. Look up 'Greek Orthodox' in the dictionary, you'll see a picture of my Grandfather," he said with a grin. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that someone with a name like Yiannis does not come from a podunk town in the midwest that boasts more cattle than people, by a landslide, and whose claim to fame is something outlandish and obscure like being the home of the most grain silos than any other place in the country."
He started chuckling somewhere around the mention of a podunk town, and she didn't let up until he was at her mercy. "You're a slayer with those jokes,' he told her. "That's pretty much the opposite of what I usually hear. When most people hear my name, they think I'm from Amish country. I have to correct them *real* fast," he told her, before she started to put a picture of him together. “The only people to sport hair like that are in the military. ROTC I’m guessing?”
"And here I only know three things about you. Beautiful Rene loves to surf," he replied before gently touching her arm. "Why don't we have a walk on the beach and you tell me a little more?"
Her brilliant smile lit up the oceanside once he made her laugh, and he was instantly taken with the demure look she had when she tilted her head to ring her hair dry. “You’re not a Shubie, are you?”
Totally unfamiliar with the term, he decided to take a shot in the dark, playing off a music reference because that already seemed to be her vibe. "Would you believe me if I told you I'm the guy Salt-N-Pepa wrote that about?" he asked with a smile so sly a fox could take lessons. He was born the year the song debuted, if that, but it was almost believable the way he sold it. “The weather report said we’d have some high winds and good waves today, so I wanted the thruster setup, and the Kokomo’s got it." She busied herself for a moment freeing her ankle from the safety harness, before she added “Pulled some dawn patrol yesterday, quieter for sure so did fine with the twin fin.”
He came to grips with a few terms about how her boards were made for different purposes, weather patterns, and so on, learning on the fly as she laid it on him. Then she told him about what sounded like one of the most idyllic experiences of her life. "Surfing in the sunrise? God, that's gotta be magnificent. Tell me what that was like," he asked, looking to vicariously experience it through her.
“If so I did a poor job of it. I mean, you're here.” He laughed when she had a go, but didn't miss that promising wink. “Sure don’t mind the view though. And quite the bard it seems. Lucky me.” Flexing his bicep as nonchalantly as he spoke, he chimed in with "I go where I'm most needed, even if I don't know where that is before I get there," and flashed his smile at her again, one full of sheer joy. “But yes, out there is where I go to get away from it all. At least for a little bit anyway.”
"Yeah, it's incredible to be seaside again. I've spent the better part of the year surrounded by water. Either that, or in the sky," he alluded. It was just enough to hook her attention, getting her to ask the right questions. Shaking her hand, he noted her remarkably smooth skin, no doubt from plenty of sunblock with moisturizer. It made him want to run his fingers up her arm, lean in for that fresh scent of salt water and coconut, a feast for his senses. “Rene. Is Yiannis a family name?”
"You've got it. Second generation born in the United States. Look up 'Greek Orthodox' in the dictionary, you'll see a picture of my Grandfather," he said with a grin. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that someone with a name like Yiannis does not come from a podunk town in the midwest that boasts more cattle than people, by a landslide, and whose claim to fame is something outlandish and obscure like being the home of the most grain silos than any other place in the country."
He started chuckling somewhere around the mention of a podunk town, and she didn't let up until he was at her mercy. "You're a slayer with those jokes,' he told her. "That's pretty much the opposite of what I usually hear. When most people hear my name, they think I'm from Amish country. I have to correct them *real* fast," he told her, before she started to put a picture of him together. “The only people to sport hair like that are in the military. ROTC I’m guessing?”
"And here I only know three things about you. Beautiful Rene loves to surf," he replied before gently touching her arm. "Why don't we have a walk on the beach and you tell me a little more?"
While she might have read him wrong for his board knowledge, the guy seemed loose enough on the fly to run with whatever was tossed at him. He seemed good-natured enough, but then again, no one came to a music festival over spring break to act unsociable. Quirky and easy going, he took her light pestering in stride and reciprocated in kind.
‘Would you believe me if I told you I'm the guy Salt-N-Pepa wrote that about?’
Now that was a reference lost on her, mostly. Her expression flickered to pensive consideration for a moment before she recovered, replacing a bemused smirk. “Oh right….the hip hop group. Wow. Not every day I get to meet a celebrity. You must have left a real impression,” she noted. A little ribbing was always a good way to screen out absolute drags, either that or boring them with surf quips. So far he was still lingering around.
‘Surfing in the sunrise? God, that's gotta be magnificent. Tell me what that was like.’
“A little chilly, but well worth it. Little by little the first rays appear, painting the sky orange and pink, inching up into the sky and bringing warmth with it,” she replied thoughtfully. “Catching waves in the moonlight too. Gotta be careful when it’s dark though. They don’t really allow night surfing. You’ll get busted pretty quick for it,” she added with another wink. “Not that I would know or anything.”
‘I go where I'm most needed, even if I don't know where that is before I get there.’
The attempt to pass off half-hearted physical display was not lost on her, and Rene found it adorable in a slightly cheesy way. Not that there was anything to complain about, given his apparent dedication to staying fit. “You’re a pillar of society, always helping out and giving of yourself,” she shook her head.
‘Yeah, it's incredible to be seaside again. I've spent the better part of the year surrounded by water. Either that, or in the sky.’
Rene adjusted her board where she kept it tucked beneath her arm and appeared momentarily crestfallen. “Surrounded by water and not surfing in it? That sounds awful.” As he mentioned the alternative, being in the sky, striking blue eyes were cast aloft momentarily. “Oh yeah?” Well that narrowed down the possible careers considerably. But why just go along with it when there was too much fun to be had. “Oh I see. You’re one of those deadliest catch crab guys full time, and you moonlight as the guy that gets launched out of a cannon at the circus, right? That’s gotta be amazing. What’s that like?”
‘You've got it. Second generation born in the United States. Look up 'Greek Orthodox' in the dictionary, you'll see a picture of my Grandfather.’
“Yeah it sounds Greek. No wonder you spend a lot of time on the water. Natural boaters and fishermen and all that right?” She asked, trying to recall a bit of history or geography that might lend itself to the conversation.
‘You're a slayer with those jokes. That's pretty much the opposite of what I usually hear. When most people hear my name, they think I'm from Amish country. I have to correct them *real* fast.’
“I do what I can,” she gave a curtsy, more than willing to continue the back-and-forth of teasing. “Ya know, I go where I’m most needed and all,” she levied back at him a bit of his own humor.
‘And here I only know three things about you. Beautiful Rene loves to surf. Why don't we have a walk on the beach and you tell me a little more?’
Rene almost laughed out loud, almost, shifting her weight from foot to foot, slender hips shifting against her board. “You always this charming or only on days that end in ‘y’?” she grinned coyly before pushing a few water-logged tresses back from her temple. “Well, Yiannis, I already know all about me. I’m more interested in hearing about you. So we trade. One fact for one fact. Fair?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
While she might have read him wrong for his board knowledge, the guy seemed loose enough on the fly to run with whatever was tossed at him. He seemed good-natured enough, but then again, no one came to a music festival over spring break to act unsociable. Quirky and easy going, he took her light pestering in stride and reciprocated in kind.
‘Would you believe me if I told you I'm the guy Salt-N-Pepa wrote that about?’
Now that was a reference lost on her, mostly. Her expression flickered to pensive consideration for a moment before she recovered, replacing a bemused smirk. “Oh right….the hip hop group. Wow. Not every day I get to meet a celebrity. You must have left a real impression,” she noted. A little ribbing was always a good way to screen out absolute drags, either that or boring them with surf quips. So far he was still lingering around.
‘Surfing in the sunrise? God, that's gotta be magnificent. Tell me what that was like.’
“A little chilly, but well worth it. Little by little the first rays appear, painting the sky orange and pink, inching up into the sky and bringing warmth with it,” she replied thoughtfully. “Catching waves in the moonlight too. Gotta be careful when it’s dark though. They don’t really allow night surfing. You’ll get busted pretty quick for it,” she added with another wink. “Not that I would know or anything.”
‘I go where I'm most needed, even if I don't know where that is before I get there.’
The attempt to pass off half-hearted physical display was not lost on her, and Rene found it adorable in a slightly cheesy way. Not that there was anything to complain about, given his apparent dedication to staying fit. “You’re a pillar of society, always helping out and giving of yourself,” she shook her head.
‘Yeah, it's incredible to be seaside again. I've spent the better part of the year surrounded by water. Either that, or in the sky.’
Rene adjusted her board where she kept it tucked beneath her arm and appeared momentarily crestfallen. “Surrounded by water and not surfing in it? That sounds awful.” As he mentioned the alternative, being in the sky, striking blue eyes were cast aloft momentarily. “Oh yeah?” Well that narrowed down the possible careers considerably. But why just go along with it when there was too much fun to be had. “Oh I see. You’re one of those deadliest catch crab guys full time, and you moonlight as the guy that gets launched out of a cannon at the circus, right? That’s gotta be amazing. What’s that like?”
‘You've got it. Second generation born in the United States. Look up 'Greek Orthodox' in the dictionary, you'll see a picture of my Grandfather.’
“Yeah it sounds Greek. No wonder you spend a lot of time on the water. Natural boaters and fishermen and all that right?” She asked, trying to recall a bit of history or geography that might lend itself to the conversation.
‘You're a slayer with those jokes. That's pretty much the opposite of what I usually hear. When most people hear my name, they think I'm from Amish country. I have to correct them *real* fast.’
“I do what I can,” she gave a curtsy, more than willing to continue the back-and-forth of teasing. “Ya know, I go where I’m most needed and all,” she levied back at him a bit of his own humor.
‘And here I only know three things about you. Beautiful Rene loves to surf. Why don't we have a walk on the beach and you tell me a little more?’
Rene almost laughed out loud, almost, shifting her weight from foot to foot, slender hips shifting against her board. “You always this charming or only on days that end in ‘y’?” she grinned coyly before pushing a few water-logged tresses back from her temple. “Well, Yiannis, I already know all about me. I’m more interested in hearing about you. So we trade. One fact for one fact. Fair?”
While she might have read him wrong for his board knowledge, the guy seemed loose enough on the fly to run with whatever was tossed at him. He seemed good-natured enough, but then again, no one came to a music festival over spring break to act unsociable. Quirky and easy going, he took her light pestering in stride and reciprocated in kind.
‘Would you believe me if I told you I'm the guy Salt-N-Pepa wrote that about?’
Now that was a reference lost on her, mostly. Her expression flickered to pensive consideration for a moment before she recovered, replacing a bemused smirk. “Oh right….the hip hop group. Wow. Not every day I get to meet a celebrity. You must have left a real impression,” she noted. A little ribbing was always a good way to screen out absolute drags, either that or boring them with surf quips. So far he was still lingering around.
‘Surfing in the sunrise? God, that's gotta be magnificent. Tell me what that was like.’
“A little chilly, but well worth it. Little by little the first rays appear, painting the sky orange and pink, inching up into the sky and bringing warmth with it,” she replied thoughtfully. “Catching waves in the moonlight too. Gotta be careful when it’s dark though. They don’t really allow night surfing. You’ll get busted pretty quick for it,” she added with another wink. “Not that I would know or anything.”
‘I go where I'm most needed, even if I don't know where that is before I get there.’
The attempt to pass off half-hearted physical display was not lost on her, and Rene found it adorable in a slightly cheesy way. Not that there was anything to complain about, given his apparent dedication to staying fit. “You’re a pillar of society, always helping out and giving of yourself,” she shook her head.
‘Yeah, it's incredible to be seaside again. I've spent the better part of the year surrounded by water. Either that, or in the sky.’
Rene adjusted her board where she kept it tucked beneath her arm and appeared momentarily crestfallen. “Surrounded by water and not surfing in it? That sounds awful.” As he mentioned the alternative, being in the sky, striking blue eyes were cast aloft momentarily. “Oh yeah?” Well that narrowed down the possible careers considerably. But why just go along with it when there was too much fun to be had. “Oh I see. You’re one of those deadliest catch crab guys full time, and you moonlight as the guy that gets launched out of a cannon at the circus, right? That’s gotta be amazing. What’s that like?”
‘You've got it. Second generation born in the United States. Look up 'Greek Orthodox' in the dictionary, you'll see a picture of my Grandfather.’
“Yeah it sounds Greek. No wonder you spend a lot of time on the water. Natural boaters and fishermen and all that right?” She asked, trying to recall a bit of history or geography that might lend itself to the conversation.
‘You're a slayer with those jokes. That's pretty much the opposite of what I usually hear. When most people hear my name, they think I'm from Amish country. I have to correct them *real* fast.’
“I do what I can,” she gave a curtsy, more than willing to continue the back-and-forth of teasing. “Ya know, I go where I’m most needed and all,” she levied back at him a bit of his own humor.
‘And here I only know three things about you. Beautiful Rene loves to surf. Why don't we have a walk on the beach and you tell me a little more?’
Rene almost laughed out loud, almost, shifting her weight from foot to foot, slender hips shifting against her board. “You always this charming or only on days that end in ‘y’?” she grinned coyly before pushing a few water-logged tresses back from her temple. “Well, Yiannis, I already know all about me. I’m more interested in hearing about you. So we trade. One fact for one fact. Fair?”
She seemed to lose a step when he threw a curveball, but bounced back just as quickly. “Oh right….the hip hop group. Wow. Not every day I get to meet a celebrity. You must have left a real impression.”
Putting a finger to his lips, he had some fun with it telling her "Shh, Don't spoil my secret. I don't want that crowd back there stampeding me and ruining it for us." For a moment, he closed his eyes behind his sunglasses as he imagined her in the scenario she described. “A little chilly, but well worth it. Little by little the first rays appear, painting the sky orange and pink, inching up into the sky and bringing warmth with it.” Eyes on her again, she continued. "Catching waves in the moonlight too. Gotta be careful when it’s dark though. They don’t really allow night surfing. You’ll get busted pretty quick for it.” She kept the winks coming. Things were feeling good. “Not that I would know or anything.”
"Oh, I don't believe you would for a second. You're the picture of hometown innocence," he said as he exaggerated by putting a hand over his heart. "But that begs the question of what you do like to do in the moonlight, since you're too sweet to go around breaking all the rules," he teased. He chuckled at her next comment, then wondered what could've disconcerted her before she clarified. “Surrounded by water and not surfing in it? That sounds awful.”
"It's not that bad. Really gave me an appreciation for how small the land is, and yet united by these kissing shores." When she tossed an Oh yeah? at him after looking up at his domain, he knew he had her. “Oh I see. You’re one of those deadliest catch crab guys full time, and you moonlight as the guy that gets launched out of a cannon at the circus, right? That’s gotta be amazing. What’s that like?”
She brought that smile out of him again, before he played along. "You've got me to a T. Sometimes I fantasize about getting pinched 300 feet in the air without a net. Must be the adrenaline junkie in me." She was as witty as they came. “Yeah it sounds Greek. No wonder you spend a lot of time on the water. Natural boaters and fishermen and all that right?”
"Yeah, especially among the isles. I've been to the Motherland a few times, and the way Santorini's architecture gave way to the Aegean sea just blew my mind. These pure, alabaster buildings juxtaposed against such bright blue water is something I'll never forget," he said as he gestured with his hands. Her curtsy was the cutest thing he'd seen in a long time, and he had to laugh along when she passed his own line back to him. “You always this charming or only on days that end in ‘y’?”
"What can I say? I had a good breakfast," he answered in the same coy fashion. “Well, Yiannis, I already know all about me. I’m more interested in hearing about you. So we trade. One fact for one fact. Fair?”
"I'd say that's tremendously fair. But you're going to start by telling me something you've never told your parents," he said with a grin, figuring it was much more interesting than asking about her favorite color.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
She seemed to lose a step when he threw a curveball, but bounced back just as quickly. “Oh right….the hip hop group. Wow. Not every day I get to meet a celebrity. You must have left a real impression.”
Putting a finger to his lips, he had some fun with it telling her "Shh, Don't spoil my secret. I don't want that crowd back there stampeding me and ruining it for us." For a moment, he closed his eyes behind his sunglasses as he imagined her in the scenario she described. “A little chilly, but well worth it. Little by little the first rays appear, painting the sky orange and pink, inching up into the sky and bringing warmth with it.” Eyes on her again, she continued. "Catching waves in the moonlight too. Gotta be careful when it’s dark though. They don’t really allow night surfing. You’ll get busted pretty quick for it.” She kept the winks coming. Things were feeling good. “Not that I would know or anything.”
"Oh, I don't believe you would for a second. You're the picture of hometown innocence," he said as he exaggerated by putting a hand over his heart. "But that begs the question of what you do like to do in the moonlight, since you're too sweet to go around breaking all the rules," he teased. He chuckled at her next comment, then wondered what could've disconcerted her before she clarified. “Surrounded by water and not surfing in it? That sounds awful.”
"It's not that bad. Really gave me an appreciation for how small the land is, and yet united by these kissing shores." When she tossed an Oh yeah? at him after looking up at his domain, he knew he had her. “Oh I see. You’re one of those deadliest catch crab guys full time, and you moonlight as the guy that gets launched out of a cannon at the circus, right? That’s gotta be amazing. What’s that like?”
She brought that smile out of him again, before he played along. "You've got me to a T. Sometimes I fantasize about getting pinched 300 feet in the air without a net. Must be the adrenaline junkie in me." She was as witty as they came. “Yeah it sounds Greek. No wonder you spend a lot of time on the water. Natural boaters and fishermen and all that right?”
"Yeah, especially among the isles. I've been to the Motherland a few times, and the way Santorini's architecture gave way to the Aegean sea just blew my mind. These pure, alabaster buildings juxtaposed against such bright blue water is something I'll never forget," he said as he gestured with his hands. Her curtsy was the cutest thing he'd seen in a long time, and he had to laugh along when she passed his own line back to him. “You always this charming or only on days that end in ‘y’?”
"What can I say? I had a good breakfast," he answered in the same coy fashion. “Well, Yiannis, I already know all about me. I’m more interested in hearing about you. So we trade. One fact for one fact. Fair?”
"I'd say that's tremendously fair. But you're going to start by telling me something you've never told your parents," he said with a grin, figuring it was much more interesting than asking about her favorite color.
She seemed to lose a step when he threw a curveball, but bounced back just as quickly. “Oh right….the hip hop group. Wow. Not every day I get to meet a celebrity. You must have left a real impression.”
Putting a finger to his lips, he had some fun with it telling her "Shh, Don't spoil my secret. I don't want that crowd back there stampeding me and ruining it for us." For a moment, he closed his eyes behind his sunglasses as he imagined her in the scenario she described. “A little chilly, but well worth it. Little by little the first rays appear, painting the sky orange and pink, inching up into the sky and bringing warmth with it.” Eyes on her again, she continued. "Catching waves in the moonlight too. Gotta be careful when it’s dark though. They don’t really allow night surfing. You’ll get busted pretty quick for it.” She kept the winks coming. Things were feeling good. “Not that I would know or anything.”
"Oh, I don't believe you would for a second. You're the picture of hometown innocence," he said as he exaggerated by putting a hand over his heart. "But that begs the question of what you do like to do in the moonlight, since you're too sweet to go around breaking all the rules," he teased. He chuckled at her next comment, then wondered what could've disconcerted her before she clarified. “Surrounded by water and not surfing in it? That sounds awful.”
"It's not that bad. Really gave me an appreciation for how small the land is, and yet united by these kissing shores." When she tossed an Oh yeah? at him after looking up at his domain, he knew he had her. “Oh I see. You’re one of those deadliest catch crab guys full time, and you moonlight as the guy that gets launched out of a cannon at the circus, right? That’s gotta be amazing. What’s that like?”
She brought that smile out of him again, before he played along. "You've got me to a T. Sometimes I fantasize about getting pinched 300 feet in the air without a net. Must be the adrenaline junkie in me." She was as witty as they came. “Yeah it sounds Greek. No wonder you spend a lot of time on the water. Natural boaters and fishermen and all that right?”
"Yeah, especially among the isles. I've been to the Motherland a few times, and the way Santorini's architecture gave way to the Aegean sea just blew my mind. These pure, alabaster buildings juxtaposed against such bright blue water is something I'll never forget," he said as he gestured with his hands. Her curtsy was the cutest thing he'd seen in a long time, and he had to laugh along when she passed his own line back to him. “You always this charming or only on days that end in ‘y’?”
"What can I say? I had a good breakfast," he answered in the same coy fashion. “Well, Yiannis, I already know all about me. I’m more interested in hearing about you. So we trade. One fact for one fact. Fair?”
"I'd say that's tremendously fair. But you're going to start by telling me something you've never told your parents," he said with a grin, figuring it was much more interesting than asking about her favorite color.
Yiannis the social butterfly seemed to enjoy poking her every bit as much as she did him, and not one to take life too seriously, Rene rolled with it, with all the carefree indulgence as one could get at a music festival during spring break. His penchant for tossing out little shameless self-promotions was top notch, but it carried the aura of more silly fun and less self-absorbed totality.
‘Shh, Don't spoil my secret. I don't want that crowd back there stampeding me and ruining it for us.’
With a finger to his philtrum, he goaded her a tad more, and willing to satiate his want for attention, she easily gave in as the two made their way back towards the ebb to saunter along the edge where the water lapped the shoreline. “Mums the word. I wouldn’t want to have to start whooping ass with my surf board,” she agreed emphatically. “I mean, we’re just getting started here.” Walking abreast of the tenacious buck, Rene’s smaller demeanor became evident, at only five feet tall, she stood well below his shoulder. It might have been a natural tendency to discount her in any kind of a scrap, and truthfully, that wouldn’t be inaccurate. She held no training whatsoever. But when he assumed she was a darling cherub incapable of sin, she remedied that faux pas right, quick and in a hurry, laughing as she did so. ‘Oh, I don't believe you would for a second. You're the picture of hometown innocence. But that begs the question of what you do like to do in the moonlight, since you're too sweet to go around breaking all the rules.’
“Oh is that so,” she remarked when she’d finished laughing. “Hometown innocence, huh. Oh I can assure you I was the Al Capone of small town Americana,” she giggled. “I mean somebody left the gate open and let the cattle out, somebody graffitied the grain silo, somebody made out with BillyJoeJimBob under the town water tower, right?” she had to laugh again. At least, that’s the kind of shenanigans she assumed went on in small towns. She paused to bend down and pick up a spiral shaped shell with slightly pointed peaks as if the top of it was a circus tent. She offered it to him. “Lightning Whelk,” she identified it for his benefit. “Moonlight activities, huh…” she addressed his statement once more before throwing a bit of a smirk up at him. “Well it’ll be dark soon. Maybe you should stick around and find out.” Sandy colored eyelashes fluttered as she cast a wink at him before continuing on.
‘It's not that bad. Really gave me an appreciation for how small the land is, and yet united by these kissing shores.’
That statement elicited a headshake from her. “Better you than me I suppose. I don’t think I could handle being around the water, but never being able to touch it, run even my fingers through it, feel it splash on my legs, dampen my hair….all the fun is in getting wet.” ‘You've got me to a T. Sometimes I fantasize about getting pinched 300 feet in the air without a net. Must be the adrenaline junkie in me.’
“An addictive drug,” she agreed, thriving on her own adrenaline rushes with perfect waves, brilliant sunlight and warm temperatures. “I’d say try surfing one day, but you might find it a let-down after a career being catapulted into the air,” she nudged him a bit in the arm before pointing to her board. His travel descriptions peaked her interest, some of the giddiness falling away to leave her facade more appreciative and thoughtful. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to travel. I’ve got a list for after I graduate. All kinds of places to go, things to see, crazy shit to try.”
Upon agreeing to her prompt, she chuckled once more as he made his request; something she would never tell her parents. “Wow. Straight out of the gate huh,” she mused. “Fine fine, a deal’s a deal.” She fluffed her hair with her fingers to help dry it out a bit more before continuing. “Last year, during spring break in San Diego, I got arrested for indecent exposure. Mullet tossing contest at one of the water front bars where you had to toss the fish as far as you could...without using your hands. So I was ….ahem….using other….means…..and the cops came by….and...well…..” she trailed off into snickering before fixing him with ‘the look’ that insisted on reciprocity. In a rather bold move, she reached up with her free hand, and plucked the sunglasses from his face, and put them on herself. “Your turn.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Yiannis the social butterfly seemed to enjoy poking her every bit as much as she did him, and not one to take life too seriously, Rene rolled with it, with all the carefree indulgence as one could get at a music festival during spring break. His penchant for tossing out little shameless self-promotions was top notch, but it carried the aura of more silly fun and less self-absorbed totality.
‘Shh, Don't spoil my secret. I don't want that crowd back there stampeding me and ruining it for us.’
With a finger to his philtrum, he goaded her a tad more, and willing to satiate his want for attention, she easily gave in as the two made their way back towards the ebb to saunter along the edge where the water lapped the shoreline. “Mums the word. I wouldn’t want to have to start whooping ass with my surf board,” she agreed emphatically. “I mean, we’re just getting started here.” Walking abreast of the tenacious buck, Rene’s smaller demeanor became evident, at only five feet tall, she stood well below his shoulder. It might have been a natural tendency to discount her in any kind of a scrap, and truthfully, that wouldn’t be inaccurate. She held no training whatsoever. But when he assumed she was a darling cherub incapable of sin, she remedied that faux pas right, quick and in a hurry, laughing as she did so. ‘Oh, I don't believe you would for a second. You're the picture of hometown innocence. But that begs the question of what you do like to do in the moonlight, since you're too sweet to go around breaking all the rules.’
“Oh is that so,” she remarked when she’d finished laughing. “Hometown innocence, huh. Oh I can assure you I was the Al Capone of small town Americana,” she giggled. “I mean somebody left the gate open and let the cattle out, somebody graffitied the grain silo, somebody made out with BillyJoeJimBob under the town water tower, right?” she had to laugh again. At least, that’s the kind of shenanigans she assumed went on in small towns. She paused to bend down and pick up a spiral shaped shell with slightly pointed peaks as if the top of it was a circus tent. She offered it to him. “Lightning Whelk,” she identified it for his benefit. “Moonlight activities, huh…” she addressed his statement once more before throwing a bit of a smirk up at him. “Well it’ll be dark soon. Maybe you should stick around and find out.” Sandy colored eyelashes fluttered as she cast a wink at him before continuing on.
‘It's not that bad. Really gave me an appreciation for how small the land is, and yet united by these kissing shores.’
That statement elicited a headshake from her. “Better you than me I suppose. I don’t think I could handle being around the water, but never being able to touch it, run even my fingers through it, feel it splash on my legs, dampen my hair….all the fun is in getting wet.” ‘You've got me to a T. Sometimes I fantasize about getting pinched 300 feet in the air without a net. Must be the adrenaline junkie in me.’
“An addictive drug,” she agreed, thriving on her own adrenaline rushes with perfect waves, brilliant sunlight and warm temperatures. “I’d say try surfing one day, but you might find it a let-down after a career being catapulted into the air,” she nudged him a bit in the arm before pointing to her board. His travel descriptions peaked her interest, some of the giddiness falling away to leave her facade more appreciative and thoughtful. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to travel. I’ve got a list for after I graduate. All kinds of places to go, things to see, crazy shit to try.”
Upon agreeing to her prompt, she chuckled once more as he made his request; something she would never tell her parents. “Wow. Straight out of the gate huh,” she mused. “Fine fine, a deal’s a deal.” She fluffed her hair with her fingers to help dry it out a bit more before continuing. “Last year, during spring break in San Diego, I got arrested for indecent exposure. Mullet tossing contest at one of the water front bars where you had to toss the fish as far as you could...without using your hands. So I was ….ahem….using other….means…..and the cops came by….and...well…..” she trailed off into snickering before fixing him with ‘the look’ that insisted on reciprocity. In a rather bold move, she reached up with her free hand, and plucked the sunglasses from his face, and put them on herself. “Your turn.”
Yiannis the social butterfly seemed to enjoy poking her every bit as much as she did him, and not one to take life too seriously, Rene rolled with it, with all the carefree indulgence as one could get at a music festival during spring break. His penchant for tossing out little shameless self-promotions was top notch, but it carried the aura of more silly fun and less self-absorbed totality.
‘Shh, Don't spoil my secret. I don't want that crowd back there stampeding me and ruining it for us.’
With a finger to his philtrum, he goaded her a tad more, and willing to satiate his want for attention, she easily gave in as the two made their way back towards the ebb to saunter along the edge where the water lapped the shoreline. “Mums the word. I wouldn’t want to have to start whooping ass with my surf board,” she agreed emphatically. “I mean, we’re just getting started here.” Walking abreast of the tenacious buck, Rene’s smaller demeanor became evident, at only five feet tall, she stood well below his shoulder. It might have been a natural tendency to discount her in any kind of a scrap, and truthfully, that wouldn’t be inaccurate. She held no training whatsoever. But when he assumed she was a darling cherub incapable of sin, she remedied that faux pas right, quick and in a hurry, laughing as she did so. ‘Oh, I don't believe you would for a second. You're the picture of hometown innocence. But that begs the question of what you do like to do in the moonlight, since you're too sweet to go around breaking all the rules.’
“Oh is that so,” she remarked when she’d finished laughing. “Hometown innocence, huh. Oh I can assure you I was the Al Capone of small town Americana,” she giggled. “I mean somebody left the gate open and let the cattle out, somebody graffitied the grain silo, somebody made out with BillyJoeJimBob under the town water tower, right?” she had to laugh again. At least, that’s the kind of shenanigans she assumed went on in small towns. She paused to bend down and pick up a spiral shaped shell with slightly pointed peaks as if the top of it was a circus tent. She offered it to him. “Lightning Whelk,” she identified it for his benefit. “Moonlight activities, huh…” she addressed his statement once more before throwing a bit of a smirk up at him. “Well it’ll be dark soon. Maybe you should stick around and find out.” Sandy colored eyelashes fluttered as she cast a wink at him before continuing on.
‘It's not that bad. Really gave me an appreciation for how small the land is, and yet united by these kissing shores.’
That statement elicited a headshake from her. “Better you than me I suppose. I don’t think I could handle being around the water, but never being able to touch it, run even my fingers through it, feel it splash on my legs, dampen my hair….all the fun is in getting wet.” ‘You've got me to a T. Sometimes I fantasize about getting pinched 300 feet in the air without a net. Must be the adrenaline junkie in me.’
“An addictive drug,” she agreed, thriving on her own adrenaline rushes with perfect waves, brilliant sunlight and warm temperatures. “I’d say try surfing one day, but you might find it a let-down after a career being catapulted into the air,” she nudged him a bit in the arm before pointing to her board. His travel descriptions peaked her interest, some of the giddiness falling away to leave her facade more appreciative and thoughtful. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to travel. I’ve got a list for after I graduate. All kinds of places to go, things to see, crazy shit to try.”
Upon agreeing to her prompt, she chuckled once more as he made his request; something she would never tell her parents. “Wow. Straight out of the gate huh,” she mused. “Fine fine, a deal’s a deal.” She fluffed her hair with her fingers to help dry it out a bit more before continuing. “Last year, during spring break in San Diego, I got arrested for indecent exposure. Mullet tossing contest at one of the water front bars where you had to toss the fish as far as you could...without using your hands. So I was ….ahem….using other….means…..and the cops came by….and...well…..” she trailed off into snickering before fixing him with ‘the look’ that insisted on reciprocity. In a rather bold move, she reached up with her free hand, and plucked the sunglasses from his face, and put them on herself. “Your turn.”
“Mums the word. I wouldn’t want to have to start whooping ass with my surf board.” He chuckled along with her, imagining something absurd like a sign spinner turned martial artist. "Well, aren't you a crouching tiger, hidden badass," he jested. “I mean, we’re just getting started here.” With that, the rest of the world seemed to fall away for a moment. The perfect day with the perfect girl was coming together before his eyes. He could hardly believe it.
His tease elicited the kind of response he was looking for, and she spilled more than he thought she would. “Oh is that so? Hometown innocence, huh? I can assure you I was the Al Capone of small town Americana." With a giggle like that, it was hard to tell if she was brazenly joking or sincerely amused about a checkered past. “I mean somebody left the gate open and let the cattle out, somebody graffitied the grain silo, somebody made out with BillyJoeJimBob under the town water tower, right?”
"Oh really? What kind of naughty things did you graffiti? 'Be excellent to each other and party on dudes?'" he asked, still teasing about how she didn't strike him as one to get in trouble. Then she presented him with a shell, handsomely patterned in bronze and white, with clear strong lines an striations painted by the hands of nature. "Lightning Whelk," she said simply.
"Oh, I didn't even know these had a name," he said before feeling the raised bumps with his fingertips. The protrusions on the top were exceptional. "I think this little guy fancied himself the King of the Ocean. Look at the crown he made for himself," he added before she gave him a fantastic invitation. “Moonlight activities, huh… Well it’ll be dark soon. Maybe you should stick around and find out."
Raising his finger in a faux lecture, he replied "Now now, I have a strict itinerary to keep. It's a full day of making it up as I go along. If you don't think you can keep up with that, it's better to break my heart now than mess up my complete lack of a plan," he joked, before gathering how much she truly loved the ocean. “Better you than me I suppose. I don’t think I could handle being around the water, but never being able to touch it, run even my fingers through it, feel it splash on my legs, dampen my hair….all the fun is in getting wet.”
"It is kind of ironic, when you think about it," he replied. "We spend up to a year on an aircraft carrier and don't even get to go for a swim. But there are some sights. Like a pod of Orcas that decided to play one day. It was incredible, seeing this group of six-ton swimmers defy gravity, even just for a moment, before they make the biggest splash you'll ever see." Chuckling at a memory, he said "One of them surprised us that day, by jumping exceptionally close to the port bow. My CO was standing furthest to the right of us, and he got absolutely soaked. We all started to laugh, and of course that's when he told us to get back to work. It didn't stop us from calling him Wet Willie thereafter." His joke seemed to land well, but more importantly she was a thrillseeker like him. “An addictive drug,” she started. “I’d say try surfing one day, but you might find it a let-down after a career being catapulted into the air.” Following her bump, he laughed and took her hand in his. "I don't know, I do that surrounded by sixty million dollars of the best Boeing Defense can offer. Might be a real treat to slum it on a fifty dollar boogie board with nothing but my own skin to save me."
When he talked about going home, however, she looked sincere. Not waiting for the next opportunity to tell a joke, but instead really listening, wrapped up in the tale. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to travel. I’ve got a list for after I graduate. All kinds of places to go, things to see, crazy shit to try.”
"Yeah, definitely. They aren't kidding when they say you'll see the world," he replied. "We were stationed in Japan for a bit, cooperating and assisting with the search and rescue team. If you've got an adventurous palate, try Unagi. I know some people find the idea of eating a river eel off-putting, but they grill it in a special mix of soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and sake. I have to go back there someday just to taste it again." He seemed to drift backward in time to when that flavor danced on his tongue before coming back to her. "But what about you? What's at the top of your list?" he asked, making a point to revisit her student career soon. However, right now, she was about to divulge a secret.
“Wow. Straight out of the gate huh?” she asked him, to which he smiled and said "Yup. It's a good way to separate those who talk tough and those who are tough."
“Fine, fine, a deal’s a deal." She ran her fingers through her hair again while she thought about it, something he promised himself he'd do later. “Last year, during spring break in San Diego, I got arrested for indecent exposure. Mullet tossing contest at one of the water front bars where you had to toss the fish as far as you could...without using your hands. So I was… ahem… using other… means… and the cops came by… and… well…”
His jaw hit the ground, then he laughed at the absolute riot of a story. "Oh wow, that's amazing. All right, I can admit when I'm wrong. Apparently the hometown sweetheart has a wild side." That's when she fixed him with a gaze and broke away from the handhold to nab his aviators. "Your turn."
"All right, like you said, fair's fair, but I have to know how you got out of that one," he replied before adding "You know, I think you'd look good in my shirt, too," teasing at the idea of what may happen later. "Okay, so we were on base for training here in the good old US of A. I was sweet on a Corporal named Kelly who happened to be there at the same time. Of course, rules about fraternization are very strict, and we'd be even more scandalized than you and Billy Joe if we were caught. One day, it seemed like everything was good to go, I went to her barracks and things started to get hot and heavy. The next thing we know, there's a crowd starting to walk in, returning from PT. The way this particular barracks is set up, there's no way to leave without running into someone on the stairs, because they're coming in on both sides. So, I did the only thing I could, and tried to climb out the window. As if I were in high school and her dad heard a noise," he laughed. "Unfortunately, we were on the second story, and I'm not really in a situation where I can tuck and roll. So there I am, hanging on for dear life at the windowsill, when a passing platoon walks by. Naturally, Chief Petty Officer Clemson sees me and calls out 'Don't do it son. You have too much to live for.' Here, I think my goose is cooked, but he pulls me into his office and after I explain the situation, he just laughs and says 'I was young once,' and gives me the more embarrassing punishment of being on suicide watch for two weeks. I had to sleep out in the hallway, with my battle buddy, no sheets, no shoelaces, and no range time. I couldn't even eat with anything but a plastic spoon. It was hell," he said as he blushed, shaking his head at the shenanigans. "I never got romantically involved on base again."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
“Mums the word. I wouldn’t want to have to start whooping ass with my surf board.” He chuckled along with her, imagining something absurd like a sign spinner turned martial artist. "Well, aren't you a crouching tiger, hidden badass," he jested. “I mean, we’re just getting started here.” With that, the rest of the world seemed to fall away for a moment. The perfect day with the perfect girl was coming together before his eyes. He could hardly believe it.
His tease elicited the kind of response he was looking for, and she spilled more than he thought she would. “Oh is that so? Hometown innocence, huh? I can assure you I was the Al Capone of small town Americana." With a giggle like that, it was hard to tell if she was brazenly joking or sincerely amused about a checkered past. “I mean somebody left the gate open and let the cattle out, somebody graffitied the grain silo, somebody made out with BillyJoeJimBob under the town water tower, right?”
"Oh really? What kind of naughty things did you graffiti? 'Be excellent to each other and party on dudes?'" he asked, still teasing about how she didn't strike him as one to get in trouble. Then she presented him with a shell, handsomely patterned in bronze and white, with clear strong lines an striations painted by the hands of nature. "Lightning Whelk," she said simply.
"Oh, I didn't even know these had a name," he said before feeling the raised bumps with his fingertips. The protrusions on the top were exceptional. "I think this little guy fancied himself the King of the Ocean. Look at the crown he made for himself," he added before she gave him a fantastic invitation. “Moonlight activities, huh… Well it’ll be dark soon. Maybe you should stick around and find out."
Raising his finger in a faux lecture, he replied "Now now, I have a strict itinerary to keep. It's a full day of making it up as I go along. If you don't think you can keep up with that, it's better to break my heart now than mess up my complete lack of a plan," he joked, before gathering how much she truly loved the ocean. “Better you than me I suppose. I don’t think I could handle being around the water, but never being able to touch it, run even my fingers through it, feel it splash on my legs, dampen my hair….all the fun is in getting wet.”
"It is kind of ironic, when you think about it," he replied. "We spend up to a year on an aircraft carrier and don't even get to go for a swim. But there are some sights. Like a pod of Orcas that decided to play one day. It was incredible, seeing this group of six-ton swimmers defy gravity, even just for a moment, before they make the biggest splash you'll ever see." Chuckling at a memory, he said "One of them surprised us that day, by jumping exceptionally close to the port bow. My CO was standing furthest to the right of us, and he got absolutely soaked. We all started to laugh, and of course that's when he told us to get back to work. It didn't stop us from calling him Wet Willie thereafter." His joke seemed to land well, but more importantly she was a thrillseeker like him. “An addictive drug,” she started. “I’d say try surfing one day, but you might find it a let-down after a career being catapulted into the air.” Following her bump, he laughed and took her hand in his. "I don't know, I do that surrounded by sixty million dollars of the best Boeing Defense can offer. Might be a real treat to slum it on a fifty dollar boogie board with nothing but my own skin to save me."
When he talked about going home, however, she looked sincere. Not waiting for the next opportunity to tell a joke, but instead really listening, wrapped up in the tale. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to travel. I’ve got a list for after I graduate. All kinds of places to go, things to see, crazy shit to try.”
"Yeah, definitely. They aren't kidding when they say you'll see the world," he replied. "We were stationed in Japan for a bit, cooperating and assisting with the search and rescue team. If you've got an adventurous palate, try Unagi. I know some people find the idea of eating a river eel off-putting, but they grill it in a special mix of soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and sake. I have to go back there someday just to taste it again." He seemed to drift backward in time to when that flavor danced on his tongue before coming back to her. "But what about you? What's at the top of your list?" he asked, making a point to revisit her student career soon. However, right now, she was about to divulge a secret.
“Wow. Straight out of the gate huh?” she asked him, to which he smiled and said "Yup. It's a good way to separate those who talk tough and those who are tough."
“Fine, fine, a deal’s a deal." She ran her fingers through her hair again while she thought about it, something he promised himself he'd do later. “Last year, during spring break in San Diego, I got arrested for indecent exposure. Mullet tossing contest at one of the water front bars where you had to toss the fish as far as you could...without using your hands. So I was… ahem… using other… means… and the cops came by… and… well…”
His jaw hit the ground, then he laughed at the absolute riot of a story. "Oh wow, that's amazing. All right, I can admit when I'm wrong. Apparently the hometown sweetheart has a wild side." That's when she fixed him with a gaze and broke away from the handhold to nab his aviators. "Your turn."
"All right, like you said, fair's fair, but I have to know how you got out of that one," he replied before adding "You know, I think you'd look good in my shirt, too," teasing at the idea of what may happen later. "Okay, so we were on base for training here in the good old US of A. I was sweet on a Corporal named Kelly who happened to be there at the same time. Of course, rules about fraternization are very strict, and we'd be even more scandalized than you and Billy Joe if we were caught. One day, it seemed like everything was good to go, I went to her barracks and things started to get hot and heavy. The next thing we know, there's a crowd starting to walk in, returning from PT. The way this particular barracks is set up, there's no way to leave without running into someone on the stairs, because they're coming in on both sides. So, I did the only thing I could, and tried to climb out the window. As if I were in high school and her dad heard a noise," he laughed. "Unfortunately, we were on the second story, and I'm not really in a situation where I can tuck and roll. So there I am, hanging on for dear life at the windowsill, when a passing platoon walks by. Naturally, Chief Petty Officer Clemson sees me and calls out 'Don't do it son. You have too much to live for.' Here, I think my goose is cooked, but he pulls me into his office and after I explain the situation, he just laughs and says 'I was young once,' and gives me the more embarrassing punishment of being on suicide watch for two weeks. I had to sleep out in the hallway, with my battle buddy, no sheets, no shoelaces, and no range time. I couldn't even eat with anything but a plastic spoon. It was hell," he said as he blushed, shaking his head at the shenanigans. "I never got romantically involved on base again."
“Mums the word. I wouldn’t want to have to start whooping ass with my surf board.” He chuckled along with her, imagining something absurd like a sign spinner turned martial artist. "Well, aren't you a crouching tiger, hidden badass," he jested. “I mean, we’re just getting started here.” With that, the rest of the world seemed to fall away for a moment. The perfect day with the perfect girl was coming together before his eyes. He could hardly believe it.
His tease elicited the kind of response he was looking for, and she spilled more than he thought she would. “Oh is that so? Hometown innocence, huh? I can assure you I was the Al Capone of small town Americana." With a giggle like that, it was hard to tell if she was brazenly joking or sincerely amused about a checkered past. “I mean somebody left the gate open and let the cattle out, somebody graffitied the grain silo, somebody made out with BillyJoeJimBob under the town water tower, right?”
"Oh really? What kind of naughty things did you graffiti? 'Be excellent to each other and party on dudes?'" he asked, still teasing about how she didn't strike him as one to get in trouble. Then she presented him with a shell, handsomely patterned in bronze and white, with clear strong lines an striations painted by the hands of nature. "Lightning Whelk," she said simply.
"Oh, I didn't even know these had a name," he said before feeling the raised bumps with his fingertips. The protrusions on the top were exceptional. "I think this little guy fancied himself the King of the Ocean. Look at the crown he made for himself," he added before she gave him a fantastic invitation. “Moonlight activities, huh… Well it’ll be dark soon. Maybe you should stick around and find out."
Raising his finger in a faux lecture, he replied "Now now, I have a strict itinerary to keep. It's a full day of making it up as I go along. If you don't think you can keep up with that, it's better to break my heart now than mess up my complete lack of a plan," he joked, before gathering how much she truly loved the ocean. “Better you than me I suppose. I don’t think I could handle being around the water, but never being able to touch it, run even my fingers through it, feel it splash on my legs, dampen my hair….all the fun is in getting wet.”
"It is kind of ironic, when you think about it," he replied. "We spend up to a year on an aircraft carrier and don't even get to go for a swim. But there are some sights. Like a pod of Orcas that decided to play one day. It was incredible, seeing this group of six-ton swimmers defy gravity, even just for a moment, before they make the biggest splash you'll ever see." Chuckling at a memory, he said "One of them surprised us that day, by jumping exceptionally close to the port bow. My CO was standing furthest to the right of us, and he got absolutely soaked. We all started to laugh, and of course that's when he told us to get back to work. It didn't stop us from calling him Wet Willie thereafter." His joke seemed to land well, but more importantly she was a thrillseeker like him. “An addictive drug,” she started. “I’d say try surfing one day, but you might find it a let-down after a career being catapulted into the air.” Following her bump, he laughed and took her hand in his. "I don't know, I do that surrounded by sixty million dollars of the best Boeing Defense can offer. Might be a real treat to slum it on a fifty dollar boogie board with nothing but my own skin to save me."
When he talked about going home, however, she looked sincere. Not waiting for the next opportunity to tell a joke, but instead really listening, wrapped up in the tale. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to travel. I’ve got a list for after I graduate. All kinds of places to go, things to see, crazy shit to try.”
"Yeah, definitely. They aren't kidding when they say you'll see the world," he replied. "We were stationed in Japan for a bit, cooperating and assisting with the search and rescue team. If you've got an adventurous palate, try Unagi. I know some people find the idea of eating a river eel off-putting, but they grill it in a special mix of soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and sake. I have to go back there someday just to taste it again." He seemed to drift backward in time to when that flavor danced on his tongue before coming back to her. "But what about you? What's at the top of your list?" he asked, making a point to revisit her student career soon. However, right now, she was about to divulge a secret.
“Wow. Straight out of the gate huh?” she asked him, to which he smiled and said "Yup. It's a good way to separate those who talk tough and those who are tough."
“Fine, fine, a deal’s a deal." She ran her fingers through her hair again while she thought about it, something he promised himself he'd do later. “Last year, during spring break in San Diego, I got arrested for indecent exposure. Mullet tossing contest at one of the water front bars where you had to toss the fish as far as you could...without using your hands. So I was… ahem… using other… means… and the cops came by… and… well…”
His jaw hit the ground, then he laughed at the absolute riot of a story. "Oh wow, that's amazing. All right, I can admit when I'm wrong. Apparently the hometown sweetheart has a wild side." That's when she fixed him with a gaze and broke away from the handhold to nab his aviators. "Your turn."
"All right, like you said, fair's fair, but I have to know how you got out of that one," he replied before adding "You know, I think you'd look good in my shirt, too," teasing at the idea of what may happen later. "Okay, so we were on base for training here in the good old US of A. I was sweet on a Corporal named Kelly who happened to be there at the same time. Of course, rules about fraternization are very strict, and we'd be even more scandalized than you and Billy Joe if we were caught. One day, it seemed like everything was good to go, I went to her barracks and things started to get hot and heavy. The next thing we know, there's a crowd starting to walk in, returning from PT. The way this particular barracks is set up, there's no way to leave without running into someone on the stairs, because they're coming in on both sides. So, I did the only thing I could, and tried to climb out the window. As if I were in high school and her dad heard a noise," he laughed. "Unfortunately, we were on the second story, and I'm not really in a situation where I can tuck and roll. So there I am, hanging on for dear life at the windowsill, when a passing platoon walks by. Naturally, Chief Petty Officer Clemson sees me and calls out 'Don't do it son. You have too much to live for.' Here, I think my goose is cooked, but he pulls me into his office and after I explain the situation, he just laughs and says 'I was young once,' and gives me the more embarrassing punishment of being on suicide watch for two weeks. I had to sleep out in the hallway, with my battle buddy, no sheets, no shoelaces, and no range time. I couldn't even eat with anything but a plastic spoon. It was hell," he said as he blushed, shaking his head at the shenanigans. "I never got romantically involved on base again."
The ease with which the conversation flowed was surprising to Rene, effortless in that it required none of the awkward silences and blank smile-and-nods that came so readily in the meat lockers that called themselves bars. Still, his charm was likely standard issue, and their flirtatious word volleys a prelude to whatever the night threw at them, and it suited her just fine. ‘Well, aren't you a crouching tiger, hidden badass.’
“Mmhmm,” she nodded in false severity. “That’s right. You never know. I could be extremely dangerous and wanted by the FBI for charming my victims, drugging them, and leaving them to wake up in a bathtub full of ice to learn I’ve cut out one of their kidneys. You just never know, right?” She openly motioned to herself, with her tiny stature and seemingly thin build. ‘Oh really? What kind of naughty things did you graffiti? 'Be excellent to each other and party on dudes?’
She took the teasing in stride, with a light snort followed by feigned melancholy. “I could never be nearly as righteous or cool as Bill and Ted. I can only ever aspire for such greatness,” she dramatically lamented. “Or….guys who get launched out of cannons. What can I say. Not all of us can reach such heights,” she levied a bit of jest right back at him. Rather surprisingly, he bothered to appreciate the shell she’d handed him, rather than instantly chucking it away in utter boredom.
‘Oh, I didn't even know these had a name. I think this little guy fancied himself the King of the Ocean. Look at the crown he made for himself.’
Rene’s blue eyes shifted to the shell between his fingers as he fingered the corona of the spiral’s apex. “‘We never know how high we are, til we are called to rise. And then if we are true plan, our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite would be a daily thing, did not ourselves the cubits warp, for fear to be a king’,” she remarked of the shell, a once-home for a sea snail. When she teased him about moonlight recreation, he waggled a finger at her and issued a whimsical ultimatum.
‘Now now, I have a strict itinerary to keep. It's a full day of making it up as I go along. If you don't think you can keep up with that, it's better to break my heart now than mess up my complete lack of a plan.’
“Damn. And here I’d blocked out an intense schedule of nothing, followed by a mandatory trip to nowhere,” she replied. “Looks like I’m making the journey, solo. Damn you and your ambitions, Yiannis. What’s a homebrew girl like me to do with a broken little heart and an empty schedule.” When he took her hand, she did not object, despite being amazed by the gumption. His hand felt nice in hers, good looking as he was.
‘It is kind of ironic, when you think about it. We spend up to a year on an aircraft carrier and don't even get to go for a swim. But there are some sights. Like a pod of Orcas that decided to play one day. It was incredible, seeing this group of six-ton swimmers defy gravity, even just for a moment, before they make the biggest splash you'll ever see. One of them surprised us that day, by jumping exceptionally close to the port bow. My CO was standing furthest to the right of us, and he got absolutely soaked. We all started to laugh, and of course that's when he told us to get back to work. It didn't stop us from calling him Wet Willie thereafter.’
The revelry struck a cord with Rene, features painted with wonderment, trying to imagine such a thing. “That must be incredible,” she answered in a slower and more subdued tone, watching his face as he recounted such a positive experience. “Haven’t ever seen anything like that when I’m out, but, occasionally we get a dolphin or rarely, a shark start to mingle up closer than anyone cares for.” He’d also revealed his profession indirectly. Aircraft carrier. One of those big giant floating football fields owned by the Navy. The clue was further solidified with his next comment.
‘I don't know, I do that surrounded by sixty million dollars of the best Boeing Defense can offer. Might be a real treat to slum it on a fifty dollar boogie board with nothing but my own skin to save me.’
“Fifty?!?!” the word came blurting out faster than she was able to halt it at her lips. “This custom Kokomo set me back four grand. My other board I paid just under seven hundred for…….fifty dollar boogie board. Honestly…..” she chided him a bit in fun. “I mean, it’s no sixty million dollar Boeing...defense..surfboard….” she strung the words together on the fly, trying not to laugh the entire way through the effort, “but….ya know. I don’t quite have the Pentagon funding my hobby either.”
‘We were stationed in Japan for a bit, cooperating and assisting with the search and rescue team. If you've got an adventurous palate, try Unagi. I know some people find the idea of eating a river eel off-putting, but they grill it in a special mix of soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and sake. I have to go back there someday just to taste it again. But what about you? What's at the top of your list?’
Unagi….she was pretty sure she’d have eel before...at the sushi houses...but maybe this was different. She filed away in her memory the recommendation to try this, such that it required a trip to the land of the rising sun to do so. Add that to the list. Speaking of, as he inquired, a mischievous smirk came over her glossed lips as she slipped around in front of him and put a finger nearly into that ink on his chest. “The top of my list…..is dragging you to one of my favorite bars, Pat Fussy, where I’m gonna proceed to kick your ass because I am the reigning champion at Quarters. You in, hot shot? Or do you just talk a big game?” She blocked his path until receiving a satisfactory answer….or not, at least long enough to let him stew about it before resuming her place at his side and continuing on.
‘All right, like you said, fair's fair, but I have to know how you got out of that one. You know, I think you'd look good in my shirt, too.’
He tossed a more direct line out, which she countered, but only a little, giving that proverbial line a few good tugs. “I got lucky. There were about four of us picked up for indecent exposure. We were young, younger at least, and the sergeant convinced the arresting officers to let us go with a warning. Apparently, the judge wasn’t going to be too thrilled about being called in for that kind of thing, at an adult themed party anyway,” Rene replied, one nearly bare sun-kissed shoulder bumping in a light shrug. Her head turned towards him, looking his physique up and down, from behind the safety of his own dark sunglasses. “You’re not wearing a shirt….so what does that mean I’m wearing later?” she tossed it right back at him with a tantalizing smirk.
‘Okay, so we were on base for training here in the good old US of A. I was sweet on a Corporal named Kelly who happened to be there at the same time. Of course, rules about fraternization are very strict, and we'd be even more scandalized than you and Billy Joe if we were caught. One day, it seemed like everything was good to go, I went to her barracks and things started to get hot and heavy. The next thing we know, there's a crowd starting to walk in, returning from PT. The way this particular barracks is set up, there's no way to leave without running into someone on the stairs, because they're coming in on both sides. So, I did the only thing I could, and tried to climb out the window. As if I were in high school and her dad heard a noise. Unfortunately, we were on the second story, and I'm not really in a situation where I can tuck and roll. So there I am, hanging on for dear life at the windowsill, when a passing platoon walks by. Naturally, Chief Petty Officer Clemson sees me and calls out 'Don't do it son. You have too much to live for.' Here, I think my goose is cooked, but he pulls me into his office and after I explain the situation, he just laughs and says 'I was young once,' and gives me the more embarrassing punishment of being on suicide watch for two weeks. I had to sleep out in the hallway, with my battle buddy, no sheets, no shoelaces, and no range time. I couldn't even eat with anything but a plastic spoon. It was hell. I never got romantically involved on base again.’
Rene’s laughter was melodious down the shoreline, a hand covering her mouth as she felt rude as boisterous as it was. But as the story played out in her mind, she could fully envision it, and couldn't hold back the cackling that came spilling out of her small body. “Please tell me someone got a picture of your bare naked ass hanging from that window….” was all she could chortle out.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The ease with which the conversation flowed was surprising to Rene, effortless in that it required none of the awkward silences and blank smile-and-nods that came so readily in the meat lockers that called themselves bars. Still, his charm was likely standard issue, and their flirtatious word volleys a prelude to whatever the night threw at them, and it suited her just fine. ‘Well, aren't you a crouching tiger, hidden badass.’
“Mmhmm,” she nodded in false severity. “That’s right. You never know. I could be extremely dangerous and wanted by the FBI for charming my victims, drugging them, and leaving them to wake up in a bathtub full of ice to learn I’ve cut out one of their kidneys. You just never know, right?” She openly motioned to herself, with her tiny stature and seemingly thin build. ‘Oh really? What kind of naughty things did you graffiti? 'Be excellent to each other and party on dudes?’
She took the teasing in stride, with a light snort followed by feigned melancholy. “I could never be nearly as righteous or cool as Bill and Ted. I can only ever aspire for such greatness,” she dramatically lamented. “Or….guys who get launched out of cannons. What can I say. Not all of us can reach such heights,” she levied a bit of jest right back at him. Rather surprisingly, he bothered to appreciate the shell she’d handed him, rather than instantly chucking it away in utter boredom.
‘Oh, I didn't even know these had a name. I think this little guy fancied himself the King of the Ocean. Look at the crown he made for himself.’
Rene’s blue eyes shifted to the shell between his fingers as he fingered the corona of the spiral’s apex. “‘We never know how high we are, til we are called to rise. And then if we are true plan, our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite would be a daily thing, did not ourselves the cubits warp, for fear to be a king’,” she remarked of the shell, a once-home for a sea snail. When she teased him about moonlight recreation, he waggled a finger at her and issued a whimsical ultimatum.
‘Now now, I have a strict itinerary to keep. It's a full day of making it up as I go along. If you don't think you can keep up with that, it's better to break my heart now than mess up my complete lack of a plan.’
“Damn. And here I’d blocked out an intense schedule of nothing, followed by a mandatory trip to nowhere,” she replied. “Looks like I’m making the journey, solo. Damn you and your ambitions, Yiannis. What’s a homebrew girl like me to do with a broken little heart and an empty schedule.” When he took her hand, she did not object, despite being amazed by the gumption. His hand felt nice in hers, good looking as he was.
‘It is kind of ironic, when you think about it. We spend up to a year on an aircraft carrier and don't even get to go for a swim. But there are some sights. Like a pod of Orcas that decided to play one day. It was incredible, seeing this group of six-ton swimmers defy gravity, even just for a moment, before they make the biggest splash you'll ever see. One of them surprised us that day, by jumping exceptionally close to the port bow. My CO was standing furthest to the right of us, and he got absolutely soaked. We all started to laugh, and of course that's when he told us to get back to work. It didn't stop us from calling him Wet Willie thereafter.’
The revelry struck a cord with Rene, features painted with wonderment, trying to imagine such a thing. “That must be incredible,” she answered in a slower and more subdued tone, watching his face as he recounted such a positive experience. “Haven’t ever seen anything like that when I’m out, but, occasionally we get a dolphin or rarely, a shark start to mingle up closer than anyone cares for.” He’d also revealed his profession indirectly. Aircraft carrier. One of those big giant floating football fields owned by the Navy. The clue was further solidified with his next comment.
‘I don't know, I do that surrounded by sixty million dollars of the best Boeing Defense can offer. Might be a real treat to slum it on a fifty dollar boogie board with nothing but my own skin to save me.’
“Fifty?!?!” the word came blurting out faster than she was able to halt it at her lips. “This custom Kokomo set me back four grand. My other board I paid just under seven hundred for…….fifty dollar boogie board. Honestly…..” she chided him a bit in fun. “I mean, it’s no sixty million dollar Boeing...defense..surfboard….” she strung the words together on the fly, trying not to laugh the entire way through the effort, “but….ya know. I don’t quite have the Pentagon funding my hobby either.”
‘We were stationed in Japan for a bit, cooperating and assisting with the search and rescue team. If you've got an adventurous palate, try Unagi. I know some people find the idea of eating a river eel off-putting, but they grill it in a special mix of soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and sake. I have to go back there someday just to taste it again. But what about you? What's at the top of your list?’
Unagi….she was pretty sure she’d have eel before...at the sushi houses...but maybe this was different. She filed away in her memory the recommendation to try this, such that it required a trip to the land of the rising sun to do so. Add that to the list. Speaking of, as he inquired, a mischievous smirk came over her glossed lips as she slipped around in front of him and put a finger nearly into that ink on his chest. “The top of my list…..is dragging you to one of my favorite bars, Pat Fussy, where I’m gonna proceed to kick your ass because I am the reigning champion at Quarters. You in, hot shot? Or do you just talk a big game?” She blocked his path until receiving a satisfactory answer….or not, at least long enough to let him stew about it before resuming her place at his side and continuing on.
‘All right, like you said, fair's fair, but I have to know how you got out of that one. You know, I think you'd look good in my shirt, too.’
He tossed a more direct line out, which she countered, but only a little, giving that proverbial line a few good tugs. “I got lucky. There were about four of us picked up for indecent exposure. We were young, younger at least, and the sergeant convinced the arresting officers to let us go with a warning. Apparently, the judge wasn’t going to be too thrilled about being called in for that kind of thing, at an adult themed party anyway,” Rene replied, one nearly bare sun-kissed shoulder bumping in a light shrug. Her head turned towards him, looking his physique up and down, from behind the safety of his own dark sunglasses. “You’re not wearing a shirt….so what does that mean I’m wearing later?” she tossed it right back at him with a tantalizing smirk.
‘Okay, so we were on base for training here in the good old US of A. I was sweet on a Corporal named Kelly who happened to be there at the same time. Of course, rules about fraternization are very strict, and we'd be even more scandalized than you and Billy Joe if we were caught. One day, it seemed like everything was good to go, I went to her barracks and things started to get hot and heavy. The next thing we know, there's a crowd starting to walk in, returning from PT. The way this particular barracks is set up, there's no way to leave without running into someone on the stairs, because they're coming in on both sides. So, I did the only thing I could, and tried to climb out the window. As if I were in high school and her dad heard a noise. Unfortunately, we were on the second story, and I'm not really in a situation where I can tuck and roll. So there I am, hanging on for dear life at the windowsill, when a passing platoon walks by. Naturally, Chief Petty Officer Clemson sees me and calls out 'Don't do it son. You have too much to live for.' Here, I think my goose is cooked, but he pulls me into his office and after I explain the situation, he just laughs and says 'I was young once,' and gives me the more embarrassing punishment of being on suicide watch for two weeks. I had to sleep out in the hallway, with my battle buddy, no sheets, no shoelaces, and no range time. I couldn't even eat with anything but a plastic spoon. It was hell. I never got romantically involved on base again.’
Rene’s laughter was melodious down the shoreline, a hand covering her mouth as she felt rude as boisterous as it was. But as the story played out in her mind, she could fully envision it, and couldn't hold back the cackling that came spilling out of her small body. “Please tell me someone got a picture of your bare naked ass hanging from that window….” was all she could chortle out.
The ease with which the conversation flowed was surprising to Rene, effortless in that it required none of the awkward silences and blank smile-and-nods that came so readily in the meat lockers that called themselves bars. Still, his charm was likely standard issue, and their flirtatious word volleys a prelude to whatever the night threw at them, and it suited her just fine. ‘Well, aren't you a crouching tiger, hidden badass.’
“Mmhmm,” she nodded in false severity. “That’s right. You never know. I could be extremely dangerous and wanted by the FBI for charming my victims, drugging them, and leaving them to wake up in a bathtub full of ice to learn I’ve cut out one of their kidneys. You just never know, right?” She openly motioned to herself, with her tiny stature and seemingly thin build. ‘Oh really? What kind of naughty things did you graffiti? 'Be excellent to each other and party on dudes?’
She took the teasing in stride, with a light snort followed by feigned melancholy. “I could never be nearly as righteous or cool as Bill and Ted. I can only ever aspire for such greatness,” she dramatically lamented. “Or….guys who get launched out of cannons. What can I say. Not all of us can reach such heights,” she levied a bit of jest right back at him. Rather surprisingly, he bothered to appreciate the shell she’d handed him, rather than instantly chucking it away in utter boredom.
‘Oh, I didn't even know these had a name. I think this little guy fancied himself the King of the Ocean. Look at the crown he made for himself.’
Rene’s blue eyes shifted to the shell between his fingers as he fingered the corona of the spiral’s apex. “‘We never know how high we are, til we are called to rise. And then if we are true plan, our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite would be a daily thing, did not ourselves the cubits warp, for fear to be a king’,” she remarked of the shell, a once-home for a sea snail. When she teased him about moonlight recreation, he waggled a finger at her and issued a whimsical ultimatum.
‘Now now, I have a strict itinerary to keep. It's a full day of making it up as I go along. If you don't think you can keep up with that, it's better to break my heart now than mess up my complete lack of a plan.’
“Damn. And here I’d blocked out an intense schedule of nothing, followed by a mandatory trip to nowhere,” she replied. “Looks like I’m making the journey, solo. Damn you and your ambitions, Yiannis. What’s a homebrew girl like me to do with a broken little heart and an empty schedule.” When he took her hand, she did not object, despite being amazed by the gumption. His hand felt nice in hers, good looking as he was.
‘It is kind of ironic, when you think about it. We spend up to a year on an aircraft carrier and don't even get to go for a swim. But there are some sights. Like a pod of Orcas that decided to play one day. It was incredible, seeing this group of six-ton swimmers defy gravity, even just for a moment, before they make the biggest splash you'll ever see. One of them surprised us that day, by jumping exceptionally close to the port bow. My CO was standing furthest to the right of us, and he got absolutely soaked. We all started to laugh, and of course that's when he told us to get back to work. It didn't stop us from calling him Wet Willie thereafter.’
The revelry struck a cord with Rene, features painted with wonderment, trying to imagine such a thing. “That must be incredible,” she answered in a slower and more subdued tone, watching his face as he recounted such a positive experience. “Haven’t ever seen anything like that when I’m out, but, occasionally we get a dolphin or rarely, a shark start to mingle up closer than anyone cares for.” He’d also revealed his profession indirectly. Aircraft carrier. One of those big giant floating football fields owned by the Navy. The clue was further solidified with his next comment.
‘I don't know, I do that surrounded by sixty million dollars of the best Boeing Defense can offer. Might be a real treat to slum it on a fifty dollar boogie board with nothing but my own skin to save me.’
“Fifty?!?!” the word came blurting out faster than she was able to halt it at her lips. “This custom Kokomo set me back four grand. My other board I paid just under seven hundred for…….fifty dollar boogie board. Honestly…..” she chided him a bit in fun. “I mean, it’s no sixty million dollar Boeing...defense..surfboard….” she strung the words together on the fly, trying not to laugh the entire way through the effort, “but….ya know. I don’t quite have the Pentagon funding my hobby either.”
‘We were stationed in Japan for a bit, cooperating and assisting with the search and rescue team. If you've got an adventurous palate, try Unagi. I know some people find the idea of eating a river eel off-putting, but they grill it in a special mix of soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and sake. I have to go back there someday just to taste it again. But what about you? What's at the top of your list?’
Unagi….she was pretty sure she’d have eel before...at the sushi houses...but maybe this was different. She filed away in her memory the recommendation to try this, such that it required a trip to the land of the rising sun to do so. Add that to the list. Speaking of, as he inquired, a mischievous smirk came over her glossed lips as she slipped around in front of him and put a finger nearly into that ink on his chest. “The top of my list…..is dragging you to one of my favorite bars, Pat Fussy, where I’m gonna proceed to kick your ass because I am the reigning champion at Quarters. You in, hot shot? Or do you just talk a big game?” She blocked his path until receiving a satisfactory answer….or not, at least long enough to let him stew about it before resuming her place at his side and continuing on.
‘All right, like you said, fair's fair, but I have to know how you got out of that one. You know, I think you'd look good in my shirt, too.’
He tossed a more direct line out, which she countered, but only a little, giving that proverbial line a few good tugs. “I got lucky. There were about four of us picked up for indecent exposure. We were young, younger at least, and the sergeant convinced the arresting officers to let us go with a warning. Apparently, the judge wasn’t going to be too thrilled about being called in for that kind of thing, at an adult themed party anyway,” Rene replied, one nearly bare sun-kissed shoulder bumping in a light shrug. Her head turned towards him, looking his physique up and down, from behind the safety of his own dark sunglasses. “You’re not wearing a shirt….so what does that mean I’m wearing later?” she tossed it right back at him with a tantalizing smirk.
‘Okay, so we were on base for training here in the good old US of A. I was sweet on a Corporal named Kelly who happened to be there at the same time. Of course, rules about fraternization are very strict, and we'd be even more scandalized than you and Billy Joe if we were caught. One day, it seemed like everything was good to go, I went to her barracks and things started to get hot and heavy. The next thing we know, there's a crowd starting to walk in, returning from PT. The way this particular barracks is set up, there's no way to leave without running into someone on the stairs, because they're coming in on both sides. So, I did the only thing I could, and tried to climb out the window. As if I were in high school and her dad heard a noise. Unfortunately, we were on the second story, and I'm not really in a situation where I can tuck and roll. So there I am, hanging on for dear life at the windowsill, when a passing platoon walks by. Naturally, Chief Petty Officer Clemson sees me and calls out 'Don't do it son. You have too much to live for.' Here, I think my goose is cooked, but he pulls me into his office and after I explain the situation, he just laughs and says 'I was young once,' and gives me the more embarrassing punishment of being on suicide watch for two weeks. I had to sleep out in the hallway, with my battle buddy, no sheets, no shoelaces, and no range time. I couldn't even eat with anything but a plastic spoon. It was hell. I never got romantically involved on base again.’
Rene’s laughter was melodious down the shoreline, a hand covering her mouth as she felt rude as boisterous as it was. But as the story played out in her mind, she could fully envision it, and couldn't hold back the cackling that came spilling out of her small body. “Please tell me someone got a picture of your bare naked ass hanging from that window….” was all she could chortle out.
She was highly amusing as she kept playing up her mystery, even trying to throw a little danger his way. “That’s right. You never know. I could be extremely dangerous and wanted by the FBI for charming my victims, drugging them, and leaving them to wake up in a bathtub full of ice to learn I’ve cut out one of their kidneys. You just never know, right?”
"Well I'll be," he replied. "You only take one? That must make you the most generous organ harvester in the world," he smiled. "They always paint your type as super-dangerous criminals. Maybe you should do an interview on the news, let everybody know 'Hey, we're people, too,'" he joked. “I could never be nearly as righteous or cool as Bill and Ted. I can only ever aspire for such greatness.” He chuckled at her faux sadness, before she continued “Or… guys who get launched out of cannons. What can I say. Not all of us can reach such heights."
"Oh no, anything but puns," he replied, before she blew him away with a literary quote afer he expressed his appreciation of the shell. “We never know how high we are, til we are called to rise. And then if we are true to plan, our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite would be a daily thing, did not ourselves the cubits warp, for fear to be a king.”
Holding the shell carefully, he genuinely applauded her for a moment and beamed on her. "Brilliant. I'm guessing that was Yeats? Him or Browning," he guessed, unaware that he was close but didn't quite have it. "A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who doesn't read lives only one," he replied, his quote more contemporary than classical. That was when she clued him in she didn't really have any plans either, and was both free and interested to see where things would go. “Damn. And here I’d blocked out an intense schedule of nothing, followed by a mandatory trip to nowhere. Looks like I’m making the journey, solo. Damn you and your ambitions, Yiannis. What’s a homebrew girl like me to do with a broken little heart and an empty schedule.”
With a feigned sigh, he said "Look, we're just going to have to compromise. We can do a little bit of my we'll figure it out now, and a little bit of your nothing specific later. It's the only way to be fair," he joked. Her changes between amusement and sincerity flowed so easily. “That must be incredible. Haven’t ever seen anything like that when I’m out, but, occasionally we get a dolphin or rarely, a shark start to mingle up closer than anyone cares for.”
"Oh, whoa!" he replied. "That must be pretty intense. Did he do you the courtesy of playing the Jaws theme as he swam by?" he smirked, before he spun another one at her. "Even with that inherent danger, it's a big and beautiful world. Most of us live and die in the same corner where we were born and never get to see any of it. Above all else, I don't want to be most people." she blasted him with her astonishment. “Fifty?!?! This custom Kokomo set me back four grand. My other board I paid just under seven hundred for. 'Fifty dollar boogie board.' Honestly." He had to giggle when she came out swinging, but then she lost her intensity and it was cute beyond words. “I mean, it’s no sixty million dollar Boeing... defense.. surfboard…” He almost doubled over laughing at the notion. “But… ya know. I don’t quite have the Pentagon funding my hobby either.”
Once he recovered from his fit of giggles, he said "You know, you might be onto something there. I'll pass it up the chain of command and give you a ring when we've secured the contract." All jokes aside, she put her finger on what she wanted to do next- and his body- while avoiding the question. “The top of my list…..is dragging you to one of my favorite bars, Pat Fussy, where I’m gonna proceed to kick your ass because I am the reigning champion at Quarters. You in, hot shot? Or do you just talk a big game?” The way she stood there with her hands on her hips made him want to tackle her into the sand, but he settled for putting his hand on the small of her back and pulling her hips into his. Looking her deep in the eyes, he lowered his voice to a smoldering depth before he asked "Would someone who's all talk do this?" and kissed her, intense but gentle. It only lasted for an instant, before he whispered "You smell really good, by the way," and released her before she finished her story. "I got lucky. There were about four of us picked up for indecent exposure. We were young, younger at least, and the sergeant convinced the arresting officers to let us go with a warning. Apparently, the judge wasn’t going to be too thrilled about being called in for that kind of thing, at an adult themed party anyway.” She playfully bumped him again, and he caught her admiration from behind his sunnies. “You’re not wearing a shirt….so what does that mean I’m wearing later?”
The tease left him a pretty open opportunity, but he had to play it smooth if he wanted to claim the prize. "Well, I imagine it's going to be something sexy and flowing, made of chiffon," he replied, leaving it up to her imagination what he could be talking about before he told his story. “Please tell me someone got a picture of your bare naked ass hanging from that window….” was all she could chortle out.
Laughing, he corrected her. "It wasn't quite that bad. I did at least manage to get my boots on. But someone *did* print out a picture of me hanging there without full BDU's and I became the poster boy for stress counseling. From what I hear, it even made it all the way to the Chaplain's office. I got off light because my face wasn't in it," he concluded.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
She was highly amusing as she kept playing up her mystery, even trying to throw a little danger his way. “That’s right. You never know. I could be extremely dangerous and wanted by the FBI for charming my victims, drugging them, and leaving them to wake up in a bathtub full of ice to learn I’ve cut out one of their kidneys. You just never know, right?”
"Well I'll be," he replied. "You only take one? That must make you the most generous organ harvester in the world," he smiled. "They always paint your type as super-dangerous criminals. Maybe you should do an interview on the news, let everybody know 'Hey, we're people, too,'" he joked. “I could never be nearly as righteous or cool as Bill and Ted. I can only ever aspire for such greatness.” He chuckled at her faux sadness, before she continued “Or… guys who get launched out of cannons. What can I say. Not all of us can reach such heights."
"Oh no, anything but puns," he replied, before she blew him away with a literary quote afer he expressed his appreciation of the shell. “We never know how high we are, til we are called to rise. And then if we are true to plan, our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite would be a daily thing, did not ourselves the cubits warp, for fear to be a king.”
Holding the shell carefully, he genuinely applauded her for a moment and beamed on her. "Brilliant. I'm guessing that was Yeats? Him or Browning," he guessed, unaware that he was close but didn't quite have it. "A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who doesn't read lives only one," he replied, his quote more contemporary than classical. That was when she clued him in she didn't really have any plans either, and was both free and interested to see where things would go. “Damn. And here I’d blocked out an intense schedule of nothing, followed by a mandatory trip to nowhere. Looks like I’m making the journey, solo. Damn you and your ambitions, Yiannis. What’s a homebrew girl like me to do with a broken little heart and an empty schedule.”
With a feigned sigh, he said "Look, we're just going to have to compromise. We can do a little bit of my we'll figure it out now, and a little bit of your nothing specific later. It's the only way to be fair," he joked. Her changes between amusement and sincerity flowed so easily. “That must be incredible. Haven’t ever seen anything like that when I’m out, but, occasionally we get a dolphin or rarely, a shark start to mingle up closer than anyone cares for.”
"Oh, whoa!" he replied. "That must be pretty intense. Did he do you the courtesy of playing the Jaws theme as he swam by?" he smirked, before he spun another one at her. "Even with that inherent danger, it's a big and beautiful world. Most of us live and die in the same corner where we were born and never get to see any of it. Above all else, I don't want to be most people." she blasted him with her astonishment. “Fifty?!?! This custom Kokomo set me back four grand. My other board I paid just under seven hundred for. 'Fifty dollar boogie board.' Honestly." He had to giggle when she came out swinging, but then she lost her intensity and it was cute beyond words. “I mean, it’s no sixty million dollar Boeing... defense.. surfboard…” He almost doubled over laughing at the notion. “But… ya know. I don’t quite have the Pentagon funding my hobby either.”
Once he recovered from his fit of giggles, he said "You know, you might be onto something there. I'll pass it up the chain of command and give you a ring when we've secured the contract." All jokes aside, she put her finger on what she wanted to do next- and his body- while avoiding the question. “The top of my list…..is dragging you to one of my favorite bars, Pat Fussy, where I’m gonna proceed to kick your ass because I am the reigning champion at Quarters. You in, hot shot? Or do you just talk a big game?” The way she stood there with her hands on her hips made him want to tackle her into the sand, but he settled for putting his hand on the small of her back and pulling her hips into his. Looking her deep in the eyes, he lowered his voice to a smoldering depth before he asked "Would someone who's all talk do this?" and kissed her, intense but gentle. It only lasted for an instant, before he whispered "You smell really good, by the way," and released her before she finished her story. "I got lucky. There were about four of us picked up for indecent exposure. We were young, younger at least, and the sergeant convinced the arresting officers to let us go with a warning. Apparently, the judge wasn’t going to be too thrilled about being called in for that kind of thing, at an adult themed party anyway.” She playfully bumped him again, and he caught her admiration from behind his sunnies. “You’re not wearing a shirt….so what does that mean I’m wearing later?”
The tease left him a pretty open opportunity, but he had to play it smooth if he wanted to claim the prize. "Well, I imagine it's going to be something sexy and flowing, made of chiffon," he replied, leaving it up to her imagination what he could be talking about before he told his story. “Please tell me someone got a picture of your bare naked ass hanging from that window….” was all she could chortle out.
Laughing, he corrected her. "It wasn't quite that bad. I did at least manage to get my boots on. But someone *did* print out a picture of me hanging there without full BDU's and I became the poster boy for stress counseling. From what I hear, it even made it all the way to the Chaplain's office. I got off light because my face wasn't in it," he concluded.
She was highly amusing as she kept playing up her mystery, even trying to throw a little danger his way. “That’s right. You never know. I could be extremely dangerous and wanted by the FBI for charming my victims, drugging them, and leaving them to wake up in a bathtub full of ice to learn I’ve cut out one of their kidneys. You just never know, right?”
"Well I'll be," he replied. "You only take one? That must make you the most generous organ harvester in the world," he smiled. "They always paint your type as super-dangerous criminals. Maybe you should do an interview on the news, let everybody know 'Hey, we're people, too,'" he joked. “I could never be nearly as righteous or cool as Bill and Ted. I can only ever aspire for such greatness.” He chuckled at her faux sadness, before she continued “Or… guys who get launched out of cannons. What can I say. Not all of us can reach such heights."
"Oh no, anything but puns," he replied, before she blew him away with a literary quote afer he expressed his appreciation of the shell. “We never know how high we are, til we are called to rise. And then if we are true to plan, our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite would be a daily thing, did not ourselves the cubits warp, for fear to be a king.”
Holding the shell carefully, he genuinely applauded her for a moment and beamed on her. "Brilliant. I'm guessing that was Yeats? Him or Browning," he guessed, unaware that he was close but didn't quite have it. "A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who doesn't read lives only one," he replied, his quote more contemporary than classical. That was when she clued him in she didn't really have any plans either, and was both free and interested to see where things would go. “Damn. And here I’d blocked out an intense schedule of nothing, followed by a mandatory trip to nowhere. Looks like I’m making the journey, solo. Damn you and your ambitions, Yiannis. What’s a homebrew girl like me to do with a broken little heart and an empty schedule.”
With a feigned sigh, he said "Look, we're just going to have to compromise. We can do a little bit of my we'll figure it out now, and a little bit of your nothing specific later. It's the only way to be fair," he joked. Her changes between amusement and sincerity flowed so easily. “That must be incredible. Haven’t ever seen anything like that when I’m out, but, occasionally we get a dolphin or rarely, a shark start to mingle up closer than anyone cares for.”
"Oh, whoa!" he replied. "That must be pretty intense. Did he do you the courtesy of playing the Jaws theme as he swam by?" he smirked, before he spun another one at her. "Even with that inherent danger, it's a big and beautiful world. Most of us live and die in the same corner where we were born and never get to see any of it. Above all else, I don't want to be most people." she blasted him with her astonishment. “Fifty?!?! This custom Kokomo set me back four grand. My other board I paid just under seven hundred for. 'Fifty dollar boogie board.' Honestly." He had to giggle when she came out swinging, but then she lost her intensity and it was cute beyond words. “I mean, it’s no sixty million dollar Boeing... defense.. surfboard…” He almost doubled over laughing at the notion. “But… ya know. I don’t quite have the Pentagon funding my hobby either.”
Once he recovered from his fit of giggles, he said "You know, you might be onto something there. I'll pass it up the chain of command and give you a ring when we've secured the contract." All jokes aside, she put her finger on what she wanted to do next- and his body- while avoiding the question. “The top of my list…..is dragging you to one of my favorite bars, Pat Fussy, where I’m gonna proceed to kick your ass because I am the reigning champion at Quarters. You in, hot shot? Or do you just talk a big game?” The way she stood there with her hands on her hips made him want to tackle her into the sand, but he settled for putting his hand on the small of her back and pulling her hips into his. Looking her deep in the eyes, he lowered his voice to a smoldering depth before he asked "Would someone who's all talk do this?" and kissed her, intense but gentle. It only lasted for an instant, before he whispered "You smell really good, by the way," and released her before she finished her story. "I got lucky. There were about four of us picked up for indecent exposure. We were young, younger at least, and the sergeant convinced the arresting officers to let us go with a warning. Apparently, the judge wasn’t going to be too thrilled about being called in for that kind of thing, at an adult themed party anyway.” She playfully bumped him again, and he caught her admiration from behind his sunnies. “You’re not wearing a shirt….so what does that mean I’m wearing later?”
The tease left him a pretty open opportunity, but he had to play it smooth if he wanted to claim the prize. "Well, I imagine it's going to be something sexy and flowing, made of chiffon," he replied, leaving it up to her imagination what he could be talking about before he told his story. “Please tell me someone got a picture of your bare naked ass hanging from that window….” was all she could chortle out.
Laughing, he corrected her. "It wasn't quite that bad. I did at least manage to get my boots on. But someone *did* print out a picture of me hanging there without full BDU's and I became the poster boy for stress counseling. From what I hear, it even made it all the way to the Chaplain's office. I got off light because my face wasn't in it," he concluded.
There were fewer things more off-putting than someone who took himself entirely too seriously, and fortunately, Yiannis did not present as one of them. His penchant for rolling with whatever came in his direction was invigorating, ready to reciprocate in full, and then some. He made Rene laugh, and that was refreshing compared to the primeval meat-heads that flocked to the beaches like armies of ‘bros’ ready to flex their big muscles…..and tiny cocks, hoping girls would be too distracted by the former to notice until it was too late. That’s not to say he didn’t demonstrate some well-balanced arrogance, which could be a little obnoxious, but she largely found his brand of it intriguing.
‘Well I'll be. You only take one? That must make you the most generous organ harvester in the world. hey always paint your type as super-dangerous criminals. Maybe you should do an interview on the news, let everybody know 'Hey, we're people, too.’
“That’s right,” Rene agreed. “Harvesting a kidney on an unsuspecting victim is a lot of work. There’s grocery lists of stuff like chloroform and twenty five bags of ice, I gotta be careful when buying sutures cuz maybe someone’s allergic to cat gut so I really try to stick with vicryl…...I mean it is just a tremendous amount of preparation, Yiannis. And besides, one kidney is a couple hundred grand. I’m not greedy. I’m good with a quarter mil bank deposit at a time,” she flashed a rather saccharine smile up at the roguishly handsome guy beside her.
‘Oh no, anything but puns.’
She could practically hear the silent groan inside his head, to which she simply could not resist. “Oh c’mon, I’m a punny girl,” she countered without missing a beat, ever-delighting in what agony she’d instilled in him. This must have been why so many dads were notorious repeat-offenders of the ‘dad joke.’ There was an unmistakable satisfaction to watching everyone around you roll their eyes and nearly pass out from the affliction of it.
‘Brilliant. I'm guessing that was Yeats? Him or Browning. A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who doesn't read lives only one.’
Rene almost snorted, amused by his ignorance, whether it was genuine or false. “Dickinson, and nice bastardization of Hemingway, there. You know if this whole navy thing, or launched-out-of-a-cannon thing, doesn’t work out for you, you could have an absolutely……..mediocre…....career in journalism,” she pointed out with a smug chuckle.
‘Look, we're just going to have to compromise. We can do a little bit of my we'll figure it out now, and a little bit of your nothing specific later. It's the only way to be fair.’
His mock solemnity was still too tantalizing for her, to which she reciprocated with a forged sigh of her own. “Normally, the woman is always right, Yiannis, but I like you, so I’ll go along with your compromise,” she promised, working hard to keep a smirk from breaking through the somber mask she’d put on for full effect.
‘Oh, whoa! That must be pretty intense. Did he do you the courtesy of playing the Jaws theme as he swam by? Even with that inherent danger, it's a big and beautiful world. Most of us live and die in the same corner where we were born and never get to see any of it. Above all else, I don't want to be most people.’
“No, but he did leave me with a parting gift,” she grinned, pausing to flash the outside of her left thigh. A distinctive semi circle of mottled skin denoting scars arched from nearly her knee to her hip. “Fortunately, he was just sampling in search of seal meat, but it was none the less terrifying,” she explained. “125 stitches later and we’re back up. That’s why I have this,” she lifted the shark pendant she work. “Kinda humorous little memento, though, it was anything but funny at the time. What about you? What’s the scariest close call you ever had?”
‘You know, you might be onto something there. I'll pass it up the chain of command and give you a ring when we've secured the contract.’
“Oh would you please? I could really use a high-powered sponsor to afford better boards so I could do more competing,” she quipped with an enthusiastic spark to her tone, despite the obvious jest. “Lemme know what the top general or admiral or whatever says. I can even write a few letters and dot them with hearts and unicorns and stuff, and deliver it in person so I can bat my eyelashes to further my case if you think it’ll help. What’s the dress code at the Pentagon anyway? Is my ‘Big Dick’s Halfway Inn’ t-shirt okay, or is that kinda frowned upon?”
When she jokingly challenged him to a drinking contest to see if he’d fold like a cheap suit, he thoroughly dethroned her from her self-proclaimed upper hand in the blink of an eye. With self-assured fluidity, his hands were on her hips, drawing her smaller frame against his and leaning down the 7 inch difference in their height to lock lips, firmly enough to convey interest, but considerate enough to *ask* for reciprocity rather than expect it.
‘Would someone who's all talk do this?.........You smell really good, by the way.’
The initiative caught her entirely off guard, for once, leaving her stunned and speechless, at least until the sweet sensation ended and he followed up with a complimentary whisper. So fast was the attack, she hardly had time to object…….not that she would have, taking several racing heartbeats to recover and shake the daze from her head while scrambling to wrangle the kaleidoscope of butterflies suddenly turned loose in her tummy. Slowly, the makings of a bewildered smile curled her lips. “Well…..I did take my weekly bath this morning….” she mumbled stupidly, electric sapphire pools locked on his face. But it didn’t stop there. As she’d ribbed him about his shirt, or lack thereof, he retorted with something of his own, issuing a prod right back.
‘Well, I imagine it's going to be something sexy and flowing, made of chiffon.’
“Yeah? Yeah...I could do that. I’ll just away the French maid costume for the next time,” she gathered her bearings and returned the volley once more. She nodded slowly, looking him over as if in keen evaluation. “Alright…..Yiannis-the Rocket-Greek, you’re on…..” She jerked her chin towards the parking area further up the beach where her immaculately restored 1979 Jeep “Golden Eagle” edition CJ7 was parked. “Let’s go….Pat Fussy awaits….”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
There were fewer things more off-putting than someone who took himself entirely too seriously, and fortunately, Yiannis did not present as one of them. His penchant for rolling with whatever came in his direction was invigorating, ready to reciprocate in full, and then some. He made Rene laugh, and that was refreshing compared to the primeval meat-heads that flocked to the beaches like armies of ‘bros’ ready to flex their big muscles…..and tiny cocks, hoping girls would be too distracted by the former to notice until it was too late. That’s not to say he didn’t demonstrate some well-balanced arrogance, which could be a little obnoxious, but she largely found his brand of it intriguing.
‘Well I'll be. You only take one? That must make you the most generous organ harvester in the world. hey always paint your type as super-dangerous criminals. Maybe you should do an interview on the news, let everybody know 'Hey, we're people, too.’
“That’s right,” Rene agreed. “Harvesting a kidney on an unsuspecting victim is a lot of work. There’s grocery lists of stuff like chloroform and twenty five bags of ice, I gotta be careful when buying sutures cuz maybe someone’s allergic to cat gut so I really try to stick with vicryl…...I mean it is just a tremendous amount of preparation, Yiannis. And besides, one kidney is a couple hundred grand. I’m not greedy. I’m good with a quarter mil bank deposit at a time,” she flashed a rather saccharine smile up at the roguishly handsome guy beside her.
‘Oh no, anything but puns.’
She could practically hear the silent groan inside his head, to which she simply could not resist. “Oh c’mon, I’m a punny girl,” she countered without missing a beat, ever-delighting in what agony she’d instilled in him. This must have been why so many dads were notorious repeat-offenders of the ‘dad joke.’ There was an unmistakable satisfaction to watching everyone around you roll their eyes and nearly pass out from the affliction of it.
‘Brilliant. I'm guessing that was Yeats? Him or Browning. A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who doesn't read lives only one.’
Rene almost snorted, amused by his ignorance, whether it was genuine or false. “Dickinson, and nice bastardization of Hemingway, there. You know if this whole navy thing, or launched-out-of-a-cannon thing, doesn’t work out for you, you could have an absolutely……..mediocre…....career in journalism,” she pointed out with a smug chuckle.
‘Look, we're just going to have to compromise. We can do a little bit of my we'll figure it out now, and a little bit of your nothing specific later. It's the only way to be fair.’
His mock solemnity was still too tantalizing for her, to which she reciprocated with a forged sigh of her own. “Normally, the woman is always right, Yiannis, but I like you, so I’ll go along with your compromise,” she promised, working hard to keep a smirk from breaking through the somber mask she’d put on for full effect.
‘Oh, whoa! That must be pretty intense. Did he do you the courtesy of playing the Jaws theme as he swam by? Even with that inherent danger, it's a big and beautiful world. Most of us live and die in the same corner where we were born and never get to see any of it. Above all else, I don't want to be most people.’
“No, but he did leave me with a parting gift,” she grinned, pausing to flash the outside of her left thigh. A distinctive semi circle of mottled skin denoting scars arched from nearly her knee to her hip. “Fortunately, he was just sampling in search of seal meat, but it was none the less terrifying,” she explained. “125 stitches later and we’re back up. That’s why I have this,” she lifted the shark pendant she work. “Kinda humorous little memento, though, it was anything but funny at the time. What about you? What’s the scariest close call you ever had?”
‘You know, you might be onto something there. I'll pass it up the chain of command and give you a ring when we've secured the contract.’
“Oh would you please? I could really use a high-powered sponsor to afford better boards so I could do more competing,” she quipped with an enthusiastic spark to her tone, despite the obvious jest. “Lemme know what the top general or admiral or whatever says. I can even write a few letters and dot them with hearts and unicorns and stuff, and deliver it in person so I can bat my eyelashes to further my case if you think it’ll help. What’s the dress code at the Pentagon anyway? Is my ‘Big Dick’s Halfway Inn’ t-shirt okay, or is that kinda frowned upon?”
When she jokingly challenged him to a drinking contest to see if he’d fold like a cheap suit, he thoroughly dethroned her from her self-proclaimed upper hand in the blink of an eye. With self-assured fluidity, his hands were on her hips, drawing her smaller frame against his and leaning down the 7 inch difference in their height to lock lips, firmly enough to convey interest, but considerate enough to *ask* for reciprocity rather than expect it.
‘Would someone who's all talk do this?.........You smell really good, by the way.’
The initiative caught her entirely off guard, for once, leaving her stunned and speechless, at least until the sweet sensation ended and he followed up with a complimentary whisper. So fast was the attack, she hardly had time to object…….not that she would have, taking several racing heartbeats to recover and shake the daze from her head while scrambling to wrangle the kaleidoscope of butterflies suddenly turned loose in her tummy. Slowly, the makings of a bewildered smile curled her lips. “Well…..I did take my weekly bath this morning….” she mumbled stupidly, electric sapphire pools locked on his face. But it didn’t stop there. As she’d ribbed him about his shirt, or lack thereof, he retorted with something of his own, issuing a prod right back.
‘Well, I imagine it's going to be something sexy and flowing, made of chiffon.’
“Yeah? Yeah...I could do that. I’ll just away the French maid costume for the next time,” she gathered her bearings and returned the volley once more. She nodded slowly, looking him over as if in keen evaluation. “Alright…..Yiannis-the Rocket-Greek, you’re on…..” She jerked her chin towards the parking area further up the beach where her immaculately restored 1979 Jeep “Golden Eagle” edition CJ7 was parked. “Let’s go….Pat Fussy awaits….”
There were fewer things more off-putting than someone who took himself entirely too seriously, and fortunately, Yiannis did not present as one of them. His penchant for rolling with whatever came in his direction was invigorating, ready to reciprocate in full, and then some. He made Rene laugh, and that was refreshing compared to the primeval meat-heads that flocked to the beaches like armies of ‘bros’ ready to flex their big muscles…..and tiny cocks, hoping girls would be too distracted by the former to notice until it was too late. That’s not to say he didn’t demonstrate some well-balanced arrogance, which could be a little obnoxious, but she largely found his brand of it intriguing.
‘Well I'll be. You only take one? That must make you the most generous organ harvester in the world. hey always paint your type as super-dangerous criminals. Maybe you should do an interview on the news, let everybody know 'Hey, we're people, too.’
“That’s right,” Rene agreed. “Harvesting a kidney on an unsuspecting victim is a lot of work. There’s grocery lists of stuff like chloroform and twenty five bags of ice, I gotta be careful when buying sutures cuz maybe someone’s allergic to cat gut so I really try to stick with vicryl…...I mean it is just a tremendous amount of preparation, Yiannis. And besides, one kidney is a couple hundred grand. I’m not greedy. I’m good with a quarter mil bank deposit at a time,” she flashed a rather saccharine smile up at the roguishly handsome guy beside her.
‘Oh no, anything but puns.’
She could practically hear the silent groan inside his head, to which she simply could not resist. “Oh c’mon, I’m a punny girl,” she countered without missing a beat, ever-delighting in what agony she’d instilled in him. This must have been why so many dads were notorious repeat-offenders of the ‘dad joke.’ There was an unmistakable satisfaction to watching everyone around you roll their eyes and nearly pass out from the affliction of it.
‘Brilliant. I'm guessing that was Yeats? Him or Browning. A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who doesn't read lives only one.’
Rene almost snorted, amused by his ignorance, whether it was genuine or false. “Dickinson, and nice bastardization of Hemingway, there. You know if this whole navy thing, or launched-out-of-a-cannon thing, doesn’t work out for you, you could have an absolutely……..mediocre…....career in journalism,” she pointed out with a smug chuckle.
‘Look, we're just going to have to compromise. We can do a little bit of my we'll figure it out now, and a little bit of your nothing specific later. It's the only way to be fair.’
His mock solemnity was still too tantalizing for her, to which she reciprocated with a forged sigh of her own. “Normally, the woman is always right, Yiannis, but I like you, so I’ll go along with your compromise,” she promised, working hard to keep a smirk from breaking through the somber mask she’d put on for full effect.
‘Oh, whoa! That must be pretty intense. Did he do you the courtesy of playing the Jaws theme as he swam by? Even with that inherent danger, it's a big and beautiful world. Most of us live and die in the same corner where we were born and never get to see any of it. Above all else, I don't want to be most people.’
“No, but he did leave me with a parting gift,” she grinned, pausing to flash the outside of her left thigh. A distinctive semi circle of mottled skin denoting scars arched from nearly her knee to her hip. “Fortunately, he was just sampling in search of seal meat, but it was none the less terrifying,” she explained. “125 stitches later and we’re back up. That’s why I have this,” she lifted the shark pendant she work. “Kinda humorous little memento, though, it was anything but funny at the time. What about you? What’s the scariest close call you ever had?”
‘You know, you might be onto something there. I'll pass it up the chain of command and give you a ring when we've secured the contract.’
“Oh would you please? I could really use a high-powered sponsor to afford better boards so I could do more competing,” she quipped with an enthusiastic spark to her tone, despite the obvious jest. “Lemme know what the top general or admiral or whatever says. I can even write a few letters and dot them with hearts and unicorns and stuff, and deliver it in person so I can bat my eyelashes to further my case if you think it’ll help. What’s the dress code at the Pentagon anyway? Is my ‘Big Dick’s Halfway Inn’ t-shirt okay, or is that kinda frowned upon?”
When she jokingly challenged him to a drinking contest to see if he’d fold like a cheap suit, he thoroughly dethroned her from her self-proclaimed upper hand in the blink of an eye. With self-assured fluidity, his hands were on her hips, drawing her smaller frame against his and leaning down the 7 inch difference in their height to lock lips, firmly enough to convey interest, but considerate enough to *ask* for reciprocity rather than expect it.
‘Would someone who's all talk do this?.........You smell really good, by the way.’
The initiative caught her entirely off guard, for once, leaving her stunned and speechless, at least until the sweet sensation ended and he followed up with a complimentary whisper. So fast was the attack, she hardly had time to object…….not that she would have, taking several racing heartbeats to recover and shake the daze from her head while scrambling to wrangle the kaleidoscope of butterflies suddenly turned loose in her tummy. Slowly, the makings of a bewildered smile curled her lips. “Well…..I did take my weekly bath this morning….” she mumbled stupidly, electric sapphire pools locked on his face. But it didn’t stop there. As she’d ribbed him about his shirt, or lack thereof, he retorted with something of his own, issuing a prod right back.
‘Well, I imagine it's going to be something sexy and flowing, made of chiffon.’
“Yeah? Yeah...I could do that. I’ll just away the French maid costume for the next time,” she gathered her bearings and returned the volley once more. She nodded slowly, looking him over as if in keen evaluation. “Alright…..Yiannis-the Rocket-Greek, you’re on…..” She jerked her chin towards the parking area further up the beach where her immaculately restored 1979 Jeep “Golden Eagle” edition CJ7 was parked. “Let’s go….Pat Fussy awaits….”
She was full of surprises. Coming out of the woodwork with facts he wouldn't have guessed if he had a hundred chances. “Harvesting a kidney on an unsuspecting victim is a lot of work. There’s grocery lists of stuff like chloroform and twenty five bags of ice, I gotta be careful when buying sutures cuz maybe someone’s allergic to cat gut so I really try to stick with vicryl… I mean it is just a tremendous amount of preparation, Yiannis. And besides, one kidney is a couple hundred grand. I’m not greedy. I’m good with a quarter mil bank deposit at a time,” she said before smiling too sweetly for any of it to be true.
Laughing, he asked "So I'm guessing you're pre-med? Because ya know..." he paused to have a lean and look down her back, the only asset he hadn't had the opportunity to check out. "It doesn't look like you have many places to hide a born to kill tattoo." If she wanted to be a surgeon, that must've meant she had beauty as well as brains. Almost as quickly, she protested his disapproval of puns, so he decided to give in with the corniest one he could think of. "All right , fine. Then why are pirates, pirates?" he asked, pausing a beat before following with the punchline. "No reason! They just arrrrr!"
She scoffed at his guess of classical poets, which only caused him to shake his head at himself. “Dickinson, and nice bastardization of Hemingway, there. You know if this whole navy thing, or launched-out-of-a-cannon thing, doesn’t work out for you, you could have an absolutely… mediocre… career in journalism.”
"Ah, such heights to aspire to. May my Father be Daedalus, and his pride know no end," he joked before she playfully acquiesced, then showed him quite a scar. “No, but he did leave me with a parting gift,” she said before turning her leg to him. “Fortunately, he was just sampling in search of seal meat, but it was none the less terrifying,” she explained. “125 stitches later and we’re back up. That’s why I have this,” she lifted the shark pendant she work. “Kinda humorous little memento, though, it was anything but funny at the time. What about you? What’s the scariest close call you ever had?”
His eyes went wide when he saw the scar, the trademark arc of a shark bite. "Daaaamn," he said, taking a closer look. "Did they have a guess if it was a Bull shark or a Mako? Since I'm guessing he didn't stick around to introduce himself and ask if you wanted a lollipop for your trouble." It was even more surprising that she could laugh about it. “125 stitches later and we’re back up. That’s why I have this.” She said as she showed off the pendant. Chuckling, he added "Well, at least he was nice enough to give you something to remember him by," he said before she fixed him with a question. “Kinda humorous little memento, though, it was anything but funny at the time. What about you? What’s the scariest close call you ever had?”
"Okay, this one's pretty intense. It was during the theater of operations against Gaddafi. So, I had been dispatched from the Aviano Air Base in Italy, on a mission to enforce a no-fly zone in Libya. We didn't want to leave them with the ability to carry out attacks on the rebels in the area, so we were there to take out a few surface-to-air radars and missile sites. The flight out from friendly territory takes about five hours, and we were wings-up at midnight. Naturally, I've been using the night vision goggles to navigate, but it's about the time we're finally in the territory to scout for targets that the Sun begins to come up. Dusk is worst time for night vision. The light enhancement washes out pretty hard, but it's still not bright enough to go without it. Nonetheless, I catch a glimpse of a radar, circle back and radio it in, and we're cleared to engage. My wingman, Spunkmeyer, is on a better mark to take the target. When we drop a bomb, the fall time takes a New York minute. Think of those times when a wave swells, it looks like it might wash you out, and you just have to focus and hold your breath until you're in the clear. That's what it's like," he paused, giving her a moment to reflect in her own experience. "The drop hits, and there's nothing left of the radar but a glowing hotspot. We call it in, and we're told to patrol further East before returning. I spot another one, by this time much easier to see in the Sun. Engagement clearance comes through, and it's my turn to eliminate the target. So, it's no sooner than I'm making my way to confirm the hit that I see a Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk. Now, we weren't told we'd be receiving any support, but at the same time Libya doesn't have anything that advanced. Next thing I know, I'm being demanded to identify myself, by someone with a very strong Middle Eastern accent. It's a confusing moment, to say the least. I open channels with Steven Hiller, a Marine pilot who's got a little more experience in the area. It turns out we were only a few miles off from a United Arab Emirates base that was under construction, and apparently they were none too happy about us dropping ordinance in their backyard. Hiller took it on the chin, though, and he was able to smooth everything out. So yeah, damn near had an international incident on my hands. Definitely the high point of my career," he laughed, settling back into the mood of surf and sun.
When she followed up on his amusement of a Boeing defense surfboard, he gave her a slightly quizzical look. “Oh would you please? I could really use a high-powered sponsor to afford better boards so I could do more competing. “Lemme know what the top general or admiral or whatever says. I can even write a few letters and dot them with hearts and unicorns and stuff, and deliver it in person so I can bat my eyelashes to further my case if you think it’ll help. What’s the dress code at the Pentagon anyway? Is my ‘Big Dick’s Halfway Inn’ t-shirt okay, or is that kinda frowned upon?”
After he got over his laughter, he said "You might want to pick something a little more formal." Giving her a quick once-over, he said "I bet you've got a sexy and sharp pinstripe skirtsuit at the dry cleaners right now. But what's this about competing? You on the pro circuit, too?"
Her challenge was met, and apparently exceeded when she didn't slap him for being too familiar. He seemed to leave her in shock, which was exactly what he intended, before she recovered with a smile and joked again. “Well…..I did take my weekly bath this morning…” He chuckled, then she followed up to his not-so-subtle invitation with her own not-so-subtle acceptance. “Yeah? Yeah...I could do that. I’ll just away the French maid costume for the next time.”
He smiled, and for a moment wished she hadn't stolen his sunglasses. There was no way to hide the glint in his eye when she said that without them, a hunger for their first time that he couldn't deny. “Alright…..Yiannis-the Rocket-Greek, you’re on,” she said before indicating a handsome beachgoing vehicle that said she really was all about this life. "Oh, hold on, you didn't tell me you were into vintage," he replied, shielding his eyes from the glare as he walked around to get a good look at the doors-off, heavy-grilled machine. "You must be making bank. How much of this is custom?" he asked as he turned to her, before she told him to get in. "Has anyone ever told you you've got the best come-and-get-me-grin?" he followed, before hopping into the passenger seat. "Lead the way, Toots."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
She was full of surprises. Coming out of the woodwork with facts he wouldn't have guessed if he had a hundred chances. “Harvesting a kidney on an unsuspecting victim is a lot of work. There’s grocery lists of stuff like chloroform and twenty five bags of ice, I gotta be careful when buying sutures cuz maybe someone’s allergic to cat gut so I really try to stick with vicryl… I mean it is just a tremendous amount of preparation, Yiannis. And besides, one kidney is a couple hundred grand. I’m not greedy. I’m good with a quarter mil bank deposit at a time,” she said before smiling too sweetly for any of it to be true.
Laughing, he asked "So I'm guessing you're pre-med? Because ya know..." he paused to have a lean and look down her back, the only asset he hadn't had the opportunity to check out. "It doesn't look like you have many places to hide a born to kill tattoo." If she wanted to be a surgeon, that must've meant she had beauty as well as brains. Almost as quickly, she protested his disapproval of puns, so he decided to give in with the corniest one he could think of. "All right , fine. Then why are pirates, pirates?" he asked, pausing a beat before following with the punchline. "No reason! They just arrrrr!"
She scoffed at his guess of classical poets, which only caused him to shake his head at himself. “Dickinson, and nice bastardization of Hemingway, there. You know if this whole navy thing, or launched-out-of-a-cannon thing, doesn’t work out for you, you could have an absolutely… mediocre… career in journalism.”
"Ah, such heights to aspire to. May my Father be Daedalus, and his pride know no end," he joked before she playfully acquiesced, then showed him quite a scar. “No, but he did leave me with a parting gift,” she said before turning her leg to him. “Fortunately, he was just sampling in search of seal meat, but it was none the less terrifying,” she explained. “125 stitches later and we’re back up. That’s why I have this,” she lifted the shark pendant she work. “Kinda humorous little memento, though, it was anything but funny at the time. What about you? What’s the scariest close call you ever had?”
His eyes went wide when he saw the scar, the trademark arc of a shark bite. "Daaaamn," he said, taking a closer look. "Did they have a guess if it was a Bull shark or a Mako? Since I'm guessing he didn't stick around to introduce himself and ask if you wanted a lollipop for your trouble." It was even more surprising that she could laugh about it. “125 stitches later and we’re back up. That’s why I have this.” She said as she showed off the pendant. Chuckling, he added "Well, at least he was nice enough to give you something to remember him by," he said before she fixed him with a question. “Kinda humorous little memento, though, it was anything but funny at the time. What about you? What’s the scariest close call you ever had?”
"Okay, this one's pretty intense. It was during the theater of operations against Gaddafi. So, I had been dispatched from the Aviano Air Base in Italy, on a mission to enforce a no-fly zone in Libya. We didn't want to leave them with the ability to carry out attacks on the rebels in the area, so we were there to take out a few surface-to-air radars and missile sites. The flight out from friendly territory takes about five hours, and we were wings-up at midnight. Naturally, I've been using the night vision goggles to navigate, but it's about the time we're finally in the territory to scout for targets that the Sun begins to come up. Dusk is worst time for night vision. The light enhancement washes out pretty hard, but it's still not bright enough to go without it. Nonetheless, I catch a glimpse of a radar, circle back and radio it in, and we're cleared to engage. My wingman, Spunkmeyer, is on a better mark to take the target. When we drop a bomb, the fall time takes a New York minute. Think of those times when a wave swells, it looks like it might wash you out, and you just have to focus and hold your breath until you're in the clear. That's what it's like," he paused, giving her a moment to reflect in her own experience. "The drop hits, and there's nothing left of the radar but a glowing hotspot. We call it in, and we're told to patrol further East before returning. I spot another one, by this time much easier to see in the Sun. Engagement clearance comes through, and it's my turn to eliminate the target. So, it's no sooner than I'm making my way to confirm the hit that I see a Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk. Now, we weren't told we'd be receiving any support, but at the same time Libya doesn't have anything that advanced. Next thing I know, I'm being demanded to identify myself, by someone with a very strong Middle Eastern accent. It's a confusing moment, to say the least. I open channels with Steven Hiller, a Marine pilot who's got a little more experience in the area. It turns out we were only a few miles off from a United Arab Emirates base that was under construction, and apparently they were none too happy about us dropping ordinance in their backyard. Hiller took it on the chin, though, and he was able to smooth everything out. So yeah, damn near had an international incident on my hands. Definitely the high point of my career," he laughed, settling back into the mood of surf and sun.
When she followed up on his amusement of a Boeing defense surfboard, he gave her a slightly quizzical look. “Oh would you please? I could really use a high-powered sponsor to afford better boards so I could do more competing. “Lemme know what the top general or admiral or whatever says. I can even write a few letters and dot them with hearts and unicorns and stuff, and deliver it in person so I can bat my eyelashes to further my case if you think it’ll help. What’s the dress code at the Pentagon anyway? Is my ‘Big Dick’s Halfway Inn’ t-shirt okay, or is that kinda frowned upon?”
After he got over his laughter, he said "You might want to pick something a little more formal." Giving her a quick once-over, he said "I bet you've got a sexy and sharp pinstripe skirtsuit at the dry cleaners right now. But what's this about competing? You on the pro circuit, too?"
Her challenge was met, and apparently exceeded when she didn't slap him for being too familiar. He seemed to leave her in shock, which was exactly what he intended, before she recovered with a smile and joked again. “Well…..I did take my weekly bath this morning…” He chuckled, then she followed up to his not-so-subtle invitation with her own not-so-subtle acceptance. “Yeah? Yeah...I could do that. I’ll just away the French maid costume for the next time.”
He smiled, and for a moment wished she hadn't stolen his sunglasses. There was no way to hide the glint in his eye when she said that without them, a hunger for their first time that he couldn't deny. “Alright…..Yiannis-the Rocket-Greek, you’re on,” she said before indicating a handsome beachgoing vehicle that said she really was all about this life. "Oh, hold on, you didn't tell me you were into vintage," he replied, shielding his eyes from the glare as he walked around to get a good look at the doors-off, heavy-grilled machine. "You must be making bank. How much of this is custom?" he asked as he turned to her, before she told him to get in. "Has anyone ever told you you've got the best come-and-get-me-grin?" he followed, before hopping into the passenger seat. "Lead the way, Toots."
She was full of surprises. Coming out of the woodwork with facts he wouldn't have guessed if he had a hundred chances. “Harvesting a kidney on an unsuspecting victim is a lot of work. There’s grocery lists of stuff like chloroform and twenty five bags of ice, I gotta be careful when buying sutures cuz maybe someone’s allergic to cat gut so I really try to stick with vicryl… I mean it is just a tremendous amount of preparation, Yiannis. And besides, one kidney is a couple hundred grand. I’m not greedy. I’m good with a quarter mil bank deposit at a time,” she said before smiling too sweetly for any of it to be true.
Laughing, he asked "So I'm guessing you're pre-med? Because ya know..." he paused to have a lean and look down her back, the only asset he hadn't had the opportunity to check out. "It doesn't look like you have many places to hide a born to kill tattoo." If she wanted to be a surgeon, that must've meant she had beauty as well as brains. Almost as quickly, she protested his disapproval of puns, so he decided to give in with the corniest one he could think of. "All right , fine. Then why are pirates, pirates?" he asked, pausing a beat before following with the punchline. "No reason! They just arrrrr!"
She scoffed at his guess of classical poets, which only caused him to shake his head at himself. “Dickinson, and nice bastardization of Hemingway, there. You know if this whole navy thing, or launched-out-of-a-cannon thing, doesn’t work out for you, you could have an absolutely… mediocre… career in journalism.”
"Ah, such heights to aspire to. May my Father be Daedalus, and his pride know no end," he joked before she playfully acquiesced, then showed him quite a scar. “No, but he did leave me with a parting gift,” she said before turning her leg to him. “Fortunately, he was just sampling in search of seal meat, but it was none the less terrifying,” she explained. “125 stitches later and we’re back up. That’s why I have this,” she lifted the shark pendant she work. “Kinda humorous little memento, though, it was anything but funny at the time. What about you? What’s the scariest close call you ever had?”
His eyes went wide when he saw the scar, the trademark arc of a shark bite. "Daaaamn," he said, taking a closer look. "Did they have a guess if it was a Bull shark or a Mako? Since I'm guessing he didn't stick around to introduce himself and ask if you wanted a lollipop for your trouble." It was even more surprising that she could laugh about it. “125 stitches later and we’re back up. That’s why I have this.” She said as she showed off the pendant. Chuckling, he added "Well, at least he was nice enough to give you something to remember him by," he said before she fixed him with a question. “Kinda humorous little memento, though, it was anything but funny at the time. What about you? What’s the scariest close call you ever had?”
"Okay, this one's pretty intense. It was during the theater of operations against Gaddafi. So, I had been dispatched from the Aviano Air Base in Italy, on a mission to enforce a no-fly zone in Libya. We didn't want to leave them with the ability to carry out attacks on the rebels in the area, so we were there to take out a few surface-to-air radars and missile sites. The flight out from friendly territory takes about five hours, and we were wings-up at midnight. Naturally, I've been using the night vision goggles to navigate, but it's about the time we're finally in the territory to scout for targets that the Sun begins to come up. Dusk is worst time for night vision. The light enhancement washes out pretty hard, but it's still not bright enough to go without it. Nonetheless, I catch a glimpse of a radar, circle back and radio it in, and we're cleared to engage. My wingman, Spunkmeyer, is on a better mark to take the target. When we drop a bomb, the fall time takes a New York minute. Think of those times when a wave swells, it looks like it might wash you out, and you just have to focus and hold your breath until you're in the clear. That's what it's like," he paused, giving her a moment to reflect in her own experience. "The drop hits, and there's nothing left of the radar but a glowing hotspot. We call it in, and we're told to patrol further East before returning. I spot another one, by this time much easier to see in the Sun. Engagement clearance comes through, and it's my turn to eliminate the target. So, it's no sooner than I'm making my way to confirm the hit that I see a Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk. Now, we weren't told we'd be receiving any support, but at the same time Libya doesn't have anything that advanced. Next thing I know, I'm being demanded to identify myself, by someone with a very strong Middle Eastern accent. It's a confusing moment, to say the least. I open channels with Steven Hiller, a Marine pilot who's got a little more experience in the area. It turns out we were only a few miles off from a United Arab Emirates base that was under construction, and apparently they were none too happy about us dropping ordinance in their backyard. Hiller took it on the chin, though, and he was able to smooth everything out. So yeah, damn near had an international incident on my hands. Definitely the high point of my career," he laughed, settling back into the mood of surf and sun.
When she followed up on his amusement of a Boeing defense surfboard, he gave her a slightly quizzical look. “Oh would you please? I could really use a high-powered sponsor to afford better boards so I could do more competing. “Lemme know what the top general or admiral or whatever says. I can even write a few letters and dot them with hearts and unicorns and stuff, and deliver it in person so I can bat my eyelashes to further my case if you think it’ll help. What’s the dress code at the Pentagon anyway? Is my ‘Big Dick’s Halfway Inn’ t-shirt okay, or is that kinda frowned upon?”
After he got over his laughter, he said "You might want to pick something a little more formal." Giving her a quick once-over, he said "I bet you've got a sexy and sharp pinstripe skirtsuit at the dry cleaners right now. But what's this about competing? You on the pro circuit, too?"
Her challenge was met, and apparently exceeded when she didn't slap him for being too familiar. He seemed to leave her in shock, which was exactly what he intended, before she recovered with a smile and joked again. “Well…..I did take my weekly bath this morning…” He chuckled, then she followed up to his not-so-subtle invitation with her own not-so-subtle acceptance. “Yeah? Yeah...I could do that. I’ll just away the French maid costume for the next time.”
He smiled, and for a moment wished she hadn't stolen his sunglasses. There was no way to hide the glint in his eye when she said that without them, a hunger for their first time that he couldn't deny. “Alright…..Yiannis-the Rocket-Greek, you’re on,” she said before indicating a handsome beachgoing vehicle that said she really was all about this life. "Oh, hold on, you didn't tell me you were into vintage," he replied, shielding his eyes from the glare as he walked around to get a good look at the doors-off, heavy-grilled machine. "You must be making bank. How much of this is custom?" he asked as he turned to her, before she told him to get in. "Has anyone ever told you you've got the best come-and-get-me-grin?" he followed, before hopping into the passenger seat. "Lead the way, Toots."
“Pre-med? No…” Rene shook her head, readjusting her surfboard as they started up the beach, the looser sand creating deeper footing. She made a stop where she’d cast out a towel featuring the Corona beer logo, her flip flops and keys. “Cultural Anthropology, actually,” she remarked with a grin reflecting ardor. “I was able to get an internship at the Smithsonian this summer, and I’m hoping it pans into something permanent, which will give me the ability to travel. With any kinda luck, maybe I can log a few trips before I graduate,” before she knew it, she was waxing ecstatic over the possibilities of landing the dream job, and being paid to trot the globe and study mankind. A single sandy colored eyebrow arched as he cast a sweeping glance, conveniently over her backside with an impish grin as he commented about her lack of ink. “Or maybe, it’s so well hidden, you just can’t see it,” she corrected, looking him over in kind. “I mean, I don’t see any *more* but that one on you either…..but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there, eh, Pirate?? What pirate doesn’t love a good treasure hunt,” she winked, noting pun.. Was it an offer? Was it serious? So many little tastes thus far, sweet on the palate, teasing the taste buds. “What did the captain reply when the first mate said ‘the cannons be ready sir?’ Why ‘ARE’ of course. Oh...and by the way,” she stopped to look at him, feigning seriousness. “What do you call a pirate with two eyes, two hands and two legs?” This time, rather than offer up the answer, she let him stew over it for a few. ‘Ah, such heights to aspire to. May my Father be Daedalus, and his pride know no end.’
“Well let’s hope not. Things didn’t work out so swell for him, if I remember my Iliad correctly,” Rene answered. “I haven’t known you for long, but I admit I’d be awful bummed to hear your flew too close to the sun and wiped out.” When Rene exposed the hallmark scars of her little tussle with the ocean predator, the navy boy nearly whistled.
‘Daaaamn. Did they have a guess if it was a Bull shark or a Mako? Since I'm guessing he didn't stick around to introduce himself and ask if you wanted a lollipop for your trouble.’
“Tiger shark, actually. Thankfully, just a juvenile. I was told they are drawn to flailing. I think about it every time I’m paddling out towards the waves,” Rene shrugged with a half grin lighting one side of her face. “But it sure as hell doesn’t stop me.”
And as she’d asked, now it was his turn to spill a harrowing tale. And spill it he did, much to her bewilderment. Gaddafi. She knew that name. Bad guy. Okay. Got it. Wings up at midnight? Well, she’d been toe up at midnight a few times. Same thing maybe? Night vision? Radar? This could have all been in Chinese. As a civilian, she had a vague comprehension of what some of that meant. She caught herself smiling as he carried on about it, his career, something he obviously was proud of and enjoyed, and he spouted the lingo as easily as she spouted hers, heedless of whether or not the colloquialisms were comprehensible to anyone else. ‘Think of those times when a wave swells, it looks like it might wash you out, and you just have to focus and hold your breath until you're in the clear. That's what it's like.’
For a handful of heartbeats, all the humor and all the sauce fled from Rene, her facade taking on a manifestation of her wonderment, her ability to connect and draw similarities. In that explanation, she was with him, right there, grasping it. She understood it. It made sense, presented in a format she could relate to. “Yeah………” she agreed quietly before fixing Yiannis with a stare that bordered a higher intensity. “You sure you’ve never been surfing?” she clarified. With a talent for making a potentially internationally triggered war sound light and comical, he regaled her with his treacherous story that nearly ended his career, smiling the whole time, as if he thoroughly loved that it was all naught but a joke. At least now that it was over, and he hadn’t jeopardized his chances to progress.
When he suggested she wear something more appropriate to the Pentagon, Rene scoffed a bit. “That sounds incredibly boring, but.. You’re the authority here. Pinstripe stripe suit though??” Rene shot him an incredulous look. “Um...I’m not Hillary Clinton.”
Rene moved briskly to the beautiful classic Jeep she drove, securing her board on the rack across the roll bars, the canvas top down, the spare tire cover reading: ‘Go Topless!’
‘Oh, hold on, you didn't tell me you were into vintage. You must be making bank. How much of this is custom?’
Rene almost rolled her eyes. “Making bank? I work at a coffee shop at the student union on campus,” she chuckled. What she didn't say was that her father was Senator Dastros Nikolaosi. That didn’t mean she got everything she wanted. “My father loves vintage automobiles. I saved up and bought it from the widow of a Korean war vet. She was finally resolved to go through his belongings and he had this thing, dilapidated, parked out behind their garage. My dad helped me restore it. I’m pretty fond of it,” she smiled, brushing her fingertips on the waxed surface. Once her surfboard was secured, she looked towards the hooligan who'd just slid his backside into her passenger seat. Climbing in herself, Rene looked over at him.
‘Has anyone ever told you you've got the best come-and-get-me-grin? Lead the way, Toots.’
A playful smirk appeared as she pushed the clutch in and turned the key, as of course the thing was a standard transmission. “Maybe I’m making it too easy for you. Might have to up my game a bit,” she replied. “But you, sir, are about to have your ass handed to you,” she promised him, backing from the parking spot. With well-rehearsed fluidity, Rene pushed the classic Jeep into first gear and off they went, straight for the Pat Fussy.
It wouldn’t be a long drive, and the establishment was exactly what one might expect; crawling with twenty somethings, most of them half naked, unprecedented ruckus and uproarious laughter poured from the open door and front windows out into the street, thick on everything like syrup. Rene found a parking spot, plucked her wallet from the locked console and flashed a look to Yiannis from behind his own aviator glasses, leaning towards him with her elbow propped up on the center console. “You ready for this, space cowboy?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
“Pre-med? No…” Rene shook her head, readjusting her surfboard as they started up the beach, the looser sand creating deeper footing. She made a stop where she’d cast out a towel featuring the Corona beer logo, her flip flops and keys. “Cultural Anthropology, actually,” she remarked with a grin reflecting ardor. “I was able to get an internship at the Smithsonian this summer, and I’m hoping it pans into something permanent, which will give me the ability to travel. With any kinda luck, maybe I can log a few trips before I graduate,” before she knew it, she was waxing ecstatic over the possibilities of landing the dream job, and being paid to trot the globe and study mankind. A single sandy colored eyebrow arched as he cast a sweeping glance, conveniently over her backside with an impish grin as he commented about her lack of ink. “Or maybe, it’s so well hidden, you just can’t see it,” she corrected, looking him over in kind. “I mean, I don’t see any *more* but that one on you either…..but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there, eh, Pirate?? What pirate doesn’t love a good treasure hunt,” she winked, noting pun.. Was it an offer? Was it serious? So many little tastes thus far, sweet on the palate, teasing the taste buds. “What did the captain reply when the first mate said ‘the cannons be ready sir?’ Why ‘ARE’ of course. Oh...and by the way,” she stopped to look at him, feigning seriousness. “What do you call a pirate with two eyes, two hands and two legs?” This time, rather than offer up the answer, she let him stew over it for a few. ‘Ah, such heights to aspire to. May my Father be Daedalus, and his pride know no end.’
“Well let’s hope not. Things didn’t work out so swell for him, if I remember my Iliad correctly,” Rene answered. “I haven’t known you for long, but I admit I’d be awful bummed to hear your flew too close to the sun and wiped out.” When Rene exposed the hallmark scars of her little tussle with the ocean predator, the navy boy nearly whistled.
‘Daaaamn. Did they have a guess if it was a Bull shark or a Mako? Since I'm guessing he didn't stick around to introduce himself and ask if you wanted a lollipop for your trouble.’
“Tiger shark, actually. Thankfully, just a juvenile. I was told they are drawn to flailing. I think about it every time I’m paddling out towards the waves,” Rene shrugged with a half grin lighting one side of her face. “But it sure as hell doesn’t stop me.”
And as she’d asked, now it was his turn to spill a harrowing tale. And spill it he did, much to her bewilderment. Gaddafi. She knew that name. Bad guy. Okay. Got it. Wings up at midnight? Well, she’d been toe up at midnight a few times. Same thing maybe? Night vision? Radar? This could have all been in Chinese. As a civilian, she had a vague comprehension of what some of that meant. She caught herself smiling as he carried on about it, his career, something he obviously was proud of and enjoyed, and he spouted the lingo as easily as she spouted hers, heedless of whether or not the colloquialisms were comprehensible to anyone else. ‘Think of those times when a wave swells, it looks like it might wash you out, and you just have to focus and hold your breath until you're in the clear. That's what it's like.’
For a handful of heartbeats, all the humor and all the sauce fled from Rene, her facade taking on a manifestation of her wonderment, her ability to connect and draw similarities. In that explanation, she was with him, right there, grasping it. She understood it. It made sense, presented in a format she could relate to. “Yeah………” she agreed quietly before fixing Yiannis with a stare that bordered a higher intensity. “You sure you’ve never been surfing?” she clarified. With a talent for making a potentially internationally triggered war sound light and comical, he regaled her with his treacherous story that nearly ended his career, smiling the whole time, as if he thoroughly loved that it was all naught but a joke. At least now that it was over, and he hadn’t jeopardized his chances to progress.
When he suggested she wear something more appropriate to the Pentagon, Rene scoffed a bit. “That sounds incredibly boring, but.. You’re the authority here. Pinstripe stripe suit though??” Rene shot him an incredulous look. “Um...I’m not Hillary Clinton.”
Rene moved briskly to the beautiful classic Jeep she drove, securing her board on the rack across the roll bars, the canvas top down, the spare tire cover reading: ‘Go Topless!’
‘Oh, hold on, you didn't tell me you were into vintage. You must be making bank. How much of this is custom?’
Rene almost rolled her eyes. “Making bank? I work at a coffee shop at the student union on campus,” she chuckled. What she didn't say was that her father was Senator Dastros Nikolaosi. That didn’t mean she got everything she wanted. “My father loves vintage automobiles. I saved up and bought it from the widow of a Korean war vet. She was finally resolved to go through his belongings and he had this thing, dilapidated, parked out behind their garage. My dad helped me restore it. I’m pretty fond of it,” she smiled, brushing her fingertips on the waxed surface. Once her surfboard was secured, she looked towards the hooligan who'd just slid his backside into her passenger seat. Climbing in herself, Rene looked over at him.
‘Has anyone ever told you you've got the best come-and-get-me-grin? Lead the way, Toots.’
A playful smirk appeared as she pushed the clutch in and turned the key, as of course the thing was a standard transmission. “Maybe I’m making it too easy for you. Might have to up my game a bit,” she replied. “But you, sir, are about to have your ass handed to you,” she promised him, backing from the parking spot. With well-rehearsed fluidity, Rene pushed the classic Jeep into first gear and off they went, straight for the Pat Fussy.
It wouldn’t be a long drive, and the establishment was exactly what one might expect; crawling with twenty somethings, most of them half naked, unprecedented ruckus and uproarious laughter poured from the open door and front windows out into the street, thick on everything like syrup. Rene found a parking spot, plucked her wallet from the locked console and flashed a look to Yiannis from behind his own aviator glasses, leaning towards him with her elbow propped up on the center console. “You ready for this, space cowboy?”
“Pre-med? No…” Rene shook her head, readjusting her surfboard as they started up the beach, the looser sand creating deeper footing. She made a stop where she’d cast out a towel featuring the Corona beer logo, her flip flops and keys. “Cultural Anthropology, actually,” she remarked with a grin reflecting ardor. “I was able to get an internship at the Smithsonian this summer, and I’m hoping it pans into something permanent, which will give me the ability to travel. With any kinda luck, maybe I can log a few trips before I graduate,” before she knew it, she was waxing ecstatic over the possibilities of landing the dream job, and being paid to trot the globe and study mankind. A single sandy colored eyebrow arched as he cast a sweeping glance, conveniently over her backside with an impish grin as he commented about her lack of ink. “Or maybe, it’s so well hidden, you just can’t see it,” she corrected, looking him over in kind. “I mean, I don’t see any *more* but that one on you either…..but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there, eh, Pirate?? What pirate doesn’t love a good treasure hunt,” she winked, noting pun.. Was it an offer? Was it serious? So many little tastes thus far, sweet on the palate, teasing the taste buds. “What did the captain reply when the first mate said ‘the cannons be ready sir?’ Why ‘ARE’ of course. Oh...and by the way,” she stopped to look at him, feigning seriousness. “What do you call a pirate with two eyes, two hands and two legs?” This time, rather than offer up the answer, she let him stew over it for a few. ‘Ah, such heights to aspire to. May my Father be Daedalus, and his pride know no end.’
“Well let’s hope not. Things didn’t work out so swell for him, if I remember my Iliad correctly,” Rene answered. “I haven’t known you for long, but I admit I’d be awful bummed to hear your flew too close to the sun and wiped out.” When Rene exposed the hallmark scars of her little tussle with the ocean predator, the navy boy nearly whistled.
‘Daaaamn. Did they have a guess if it was a Bull shark or a Mako? Since I'm guessing he didn't stick around to introduce himself and ask if you wanted a lollipop for your trouble.’
“Tiger shark, actually. Thankfully, just a juvenile. I was told they are drawn to flailing. I think about it every time I’m paddling out towards the waves,” Rene shrugged with a half grin lighting one side of her face. “But it sure as hell doesn’t stop me.”
And as she’d asked, now it was his turn to spill a harrowing tale. And spill it he did, much to her bewilderment. Gaddafi. She knew that name. Bad guy. Okay. Got it. Wings up at midnight? Well, she’d been toe up at midnight a few times. Same thing maybe? Night vision? Radar? This could have all been in Chinese. As a civilian, she had a vague comprehension of what some of that meant. She caught herself smiling as he carried on about it, his career, something he obviously was proud of and enjoyed, and he spouted the lingo as easily as she spouted hers, heedless of whether or not the colloquialisms were comprehensible to anyone else. ‘Think of those times when a wave swells, it looks like it might wash you out, and you just have to focus and hold your breath until you're in the clear. That's what it's like.’
For a handful of heartbeats, all the humor and all the sauce fled from Rene, her facade taking on a manifestation of her wonderment, her ability to connect and draw similarities. In that explanation, she was with him, right there, grasping it. She understood it. It made sense, presented in a format she could relate to. “Yeah………” she agreed quietly before fixing Yiannis with a stare that bordered a higher intensity. “You sure you’ve never been surfing?” she clarified. With a talent for making a potentially internationally triggered war sound light and comical, he regaled her with his treacherous story that nearly ended his career, smiling the whole time, as if he thoroughly loved that it was all naught but a joke. At least now that it was over, and he hadn’t jeopardized his chances to progress.
When he suggested she wear something more appropriate to the Pentagon, Rene scoffed a bit. “That sounds incredibly boring, but.. You’re the authority here. Pinstripe stripe suit though??” Rene shot him an incredulous look. “Um...I’m not Hillary Clinton.”
Rene moved briskly to the beautiful classic Jeep she drove, securing her board on the rack across the roll bars, the canvas top down, the spare tire cover reading: ‘Go Topless!’
‘Oh, hold on, you didn't tell me you were into vintage. You must be making bank. How much of this is custom?’
Rene almost rolled her eyes. “Making bank? I work at a coffee shop at the student union on campus,” she chuckled. What she didn't say was that her father was Senator Dastros Nikolaosi. That didn’t mean she got everything she wanted. “My father loves vintage automobiles. I saved up and bought it from the widow of a Korean war vet. She was finally resolved to go through his belongings and he had this thing, dilapidated, parked out behind their garage. My dad helped me restore it. I’m pretty fond of it,” she smiled, brushing her fingertips on the waxed surface. Once her surfboard was secured, she looked towards the hooligan who'd just slid his backside into her passenger seat. Climbing in herself, Rene looked over at him.
‘Has anyone ever told you you've got the best come-and-get-me-grin? Lead the way, Toots.’
A playful smirk appeared as she pushed the clutch in and turned the key, as of course the thing was a standard transmission. “Maybe I’m making it too easy for you. Might have to up my game a bit,” she replied. “But you, sir, are about to have your ass handed to you,” she promised him, backing from the parking spot. With well-rehearsed fluidity, Rene pushed the classic Jeep into first gear and off they went, straight for the Pat Fussy.
It wouldn’t be a long drive, and the establishment was exactly what one might expect; crawling with twenty somethings, most of them half naked, unprecedented ruckus and uproarious laughter poured from the open door and front windows out into the street, thick on everything like syrup. Rene found a parking spot, plucked her wallet from the locked console and flashed a look to Yiannis from behind his own aviator glasses, leaning towards him with her elbow propped up on the center console. “You ready for this, space cowboy?”
