Isla
As the two Ancients on the beach have already surmised, once the sun peaks past midday and into the lazy stretch of a Longheat afternoon, the coastline is surprisingly empty but for those who can withstand the temperature. (So Ancients, basically, or any Attuned in a suitable shift). Isla has come to look forward to it, honestly - and with the clinic closed for the hottest parts of the day and due to open again in a few hours for an evening stretch, she is also free to enjoy the sand rippling with heat and the golden light beaming overhead.
Dressed in a white bikini today, paired with wide brimmed sunhat and a bag over her shoulder, the Remedy is of course the exact sort of woman one might expect to see on a tropical beach, her soft blonde waves already curling further on the breeze. She's headed for her usual spot - which happens to be a few dozen feet away from where another Ancient is snoozing - and only on her way past does she notice exactly who it is.
Well, she notices after double and triple checking, because never has Isla expected to see Astaroth napping under a beach umbrella.
Grinning to herself, unable to help it, she watches him for a few seconds over the top of her sunglasses, before gracefully trotting across the sand until she's close enough to see him properly. And when that doesn't serve to wake him up, she leans down to tickle a finger against the sole of his foot.
Dressed in a white bikini today, paired with wide brimmed sunhat and a bag over her shoulder, the Remedy is of course the exact sort of woman one might expect to see on a tropical beach, her soft blonde waves already curling further on the breeze. She's headed for her usual spot - which happens to be a few dozen feet away from where another Ancient is snoozing - and only on her way past does she notice exactly who it is.
Well, she notices after double and triple checking, because never has Isla expected to see Astaroth napping under a beach umbrella.
Grinning to herself, unable to help it, she watches him for a few seconds over the top of her sunglasses, before gracefully trotting across the sand until she's close enough to see him properly. And when that doesn't serve to wake him up, she leans down to tickle a finger against the sole of his foot.
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
