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Post by cyrene on Jan 8, 2011 1:41:51 GMT -5
Cyrene walked out onto the beach, it was night time, but she didn't mind at all, she loved the dark. She noticed that she came to the beach a lot, the demi-god was used to the beach, she guessed that would happen when your back yard was the ocean. As she walked, she looked up at the sky, it was crystal clear, not a cloud in site. The night air was warm and a bit muggy, she had on a lavender mid-drift spaghetti top with super short white shorts, and a pair of sandals to put the look together.
The wind started to blow and Cyrene's naturally curly hair started to dance, she closed her eyes and smelled the salt and the smell of the strawberries that came with it. She needed to find a new hangout spot, she was too familiar with the place, but there was something that kept her coming back to the white sands and rolling waves of the beach. Cyrene hoped that curfew wasn't coming up so soon because she wasn't ready to go back to her cabin just yet. [/size] |
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Post by martyn on Jan 24, 2011 15:03:25 GMT -5
The darkened sky looked down on him as he walked along the beach, listening to the waves lap on the sand lightly. Martyn had heard something about a curfew but didn’t remember exactly when it was so,as he walked, he started to decide he would keep up this little walk till either he got yelled at or showed up back at his cabin. He needed time to think anyways, this place was new to him and even though he had mostly checked it all out he still wanted to keep moving. It even seemed to him that if he stopped he would be driven insane by the thought of why he was even here. He couldn’t think about that though, he had to keep away the thoughts of what he had seen or the pain would return. He loved his mother a lot and he knew that soon he would be ready to strike out after whatever had killed her but what had Craitus said once? Practice patients or you’ll end up dead? Yeah, yeah that sounded like something the old biker/satyr would say.
So here he was, walking his way up the beach, hands deep in a leather bikers jacket, letting his steel toed boot covered feet slide through the sand as he moved. The night wasn’t exactly cold but a cool breeze did touch his skin every once in awhile. Of course that hadn’t been why he had grabbed the leather jacket, no that had been because he liked it. It was like a little piece of home he could take anywhere. Something that told him that no matter what happened he had a place to live. Others might not understand this but it was what kept Martyn from just shoving his head in one of those furnaces at the forges. The thought of having a home and knowing that there was once some one who loved him was all he really needed.
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