The sound of water swelling and tumbling down the beach was. . .soothing.
The tide came in.
Feet stretched out into the surf it wasn't hard to spot the stranger sitting there, an eyesore to the gray day a pale skinned, muddled with freckling. A hand came up palm exposed to the air fingers uncurled as if beckoning. Hazel eyes stared down at the eons of scars-
Where was this?
There was a sort of. . .disassociation going on. The hand went down and set softly into the cold sand, fingers digging in she grasped it and raised it up. Letting it trail back down in great clumps and splatters. Was this real?
It felt real
It smelled real so.
Why here? she continued to sit, staring out at the water feet disappearing in the surface every time the tide came in. She looked perhaps a bit bedraggled her tunic soaking from waist up. But you know- thats what happens when you wake up halfway in a damn ocean. She sniffed, typical. Great. Damnit she was hungry.
Post by David Bowie on Jul 2, 2020 20:23:40 GMT -5
David preferred more inland areas. Mild agoraphobia, maybe? Maybe not. He didn't mind open fields, open air, or open sea, he merely preferred the closeness of trees and ferns and cliffs and the like. At any rate, he didn't dwell on it more than a passing thought not even given wordform in his mind. He was more concerned with the other human-looking entity on the beach.
"Hey-ho," he called out, voice projecting loud and clear as he steered his path closer to the ocean instead of continuing onward inland around the arc of the bay. One hand gripped a strap of his rucksack, a comfortable hold, and the other lifted up in a signalling wave. "You look a bit wet," he added, an observation of both her appearance and her apparent mood.
Her head tipped then tilted then turned all the way about to look. There was a person.
'you look a bit wet'
Then down her nose went looking at her legs and feet. Um- yep, wet, cold too. She raised up a hand again and looked at it. . .and looked at it. . .and-
Then down it went again and she stared off at the water the tide rolling in and dousing her once more. Dazed, confused? both? He probably thought she was on drugs. To be fair she'd think the same thing. Some random woman sitting on the beach barefoot soaked to the bone and staring off to sea? Or maybe a possible self-harm waiting to happen.
Post by David Bowie on Jul 29, 2020 19:12:41 GMT -5
He shifted his weight ever so slightly to the other leg, as if adjusting his balance, and then returned to leaning his full weight on the original leg.
She agreed with his observation, which he supposed she would, because it was an observation, not an opinion. Like her, he stared off at the water, eyes following each roll of waves as it came in and dispersed against the shore. She spoke again, but he still didn't look at her, lost in his own thoughts watching the sea.
"Me neither," he said, nodding once to the sea. "I don't feel like I'm dreaming," he expanded after a short pause, "but being lost would imply I had somewhere I was going."