It's one of those beautiful days you see in 'Visit Hawaii' advertisements. The sun's out, the sky's blue, and the gentle breeze is making the little tufts of grass here and there along the Leeward Coast dance invitingly. The water is sparkling and clean, with lots of people out diving near the reef on such a perfect day for it.
On the dark sands of the volcanic beach people rest under umbrellas or move into and out of the water, relishing the entirely ideal day.
Taking advantage of her day off and the good weather (Not that it's not usually good), Fiona's on the beach, lying on her stomach and reading atop a gingham blanket, feet kicked up behind her and crossed at the ankles. She's not there to swim, it seems, but more just for the scenic view, dressed in cut-off jeans and a faded and cut-up Green Day t-shirt, the concert dates of American Idiot tour across the back. Headphones snake into her ears from an iPod sitting next to her on the blanket as well.
If you're going to do Volcanic Beach, it's probably best to do it with a local, because they can make sure you bring an umbrella, and lots of stuff to drink. Rick is apparently fulfilling this role for...well, whoever happens to be there that he knows, because he has both an umbrella and a cooler in his hands. That's why God gave us two, right? He walks across the beach, looking for a likely spot, and what he spots is Fiona. He grins, and his steps turning him in that direction. Once he gets close enough, he sets the cooler down and lifts a hand to wave, the movement casting a shadow over her face. Hopefully so she doesn't get startled. "Hey," he says, thought whether he'll be heard or not over the music remains to be seen.
Grace had taken her afternoon to go down and enjoy the harsh beauty of the Volcanic beach on the leeward side of the island. She had obviously planned to spend some of her day on that dark sand enjoying the sun as she'd dressed for it, wearing a purple, one piece swimsuit with some cool, geometric patterns cut out along the top and across the waist, making it less a one piece more a two-piece with clinging issues. Still, the suit wasn't nearly as revealing as most 2-pieces would be. Her towel was a deep, dark gray and it had plenty of room for her to lay out on it, then some. Along with her removed sandals and guazy, black cover up, was a backpack that was unzipped to reveal some fruit and a couple of bottles of water. Naturally, being here long enough to attain kama aina status, Grace knew enough to bring an umbrella to this particular beach, as there definitely wasn't any shade to speak of, and it could get downright broiling out here. Grace wasn't all that far from Fiona, and when the shadow of Rick passing by moved over her, she opened her eyes and looked up, smiling slightly at the man. "Aloha auinala, Rick." She greeted him with an up-nod as Rick moved to find his place on the beach.
Most people come to the beaches to relax. Lola comes to patrol.. at least, one version of her does. Striding across the sand, the unnatural red and black of her hair is a warning to those who know her well enough. Or who don't like the look of her firm set expression, far too serious for a beautiful place like this. Trouble comes at a rolling pace, wrapped up in dark denim and leather. And she comes with a friend. The long, heavy oar that accessorizes so well with the plumage. The tool resting over one shoulder, a lazy arm curled over the haft to balance the thick, heavy paddle on the other end. Even so it bobs slightly with her every step as she scans the beach. Seeking without specific goal.
It is a beautiful day, and a good day for a swim, a surf even, perhaps. Today however, Iara steps out for a simple walk and some fresh air after a long day of studying as she strolls along the volcanic beach. She is strolling along the water side dressed in her red piece swim suit covered by a long black beach cover and sun hat, lost in her thoughts as she stares out at the sea. She does spy a decidedly different Lola from earlier that day and decides to keep her distance, eyeing her warily before turning to gaze back at the beauty of the volcanic beach.
The sun blazes overhead in the clear blue sky.
The tide is low and ebbing.
Aurelie is having an animated conversation with her upraised cell phone, held at arm's length in front of her. Dressed in a black string bikini accented with silver metal studs, the leggy blonde is standing with her back to the ocean, letting the ocean breeze whip her shoulder-length hair around her shoulders. A pair of rose-colored sunglasses rest over her eyes. "And that, Angels and Devils, is how I almost got my ass kicked for trying to bring a hot dog to this beach. Seriously, unless you're into the black eye look, leave the pork on the windward side of the island. This is your girl Auri, signing out for now." The statuesque blonde flips her phone around to scan across the beach, before coming back to her face. "Because as you can see, this beach is a hot spot for local wildlife, and I need to go make some new friends. Don't forget to subscribe!" She blows a kiss into her phone then lowers it, returning to a black tie-dyed throw that makes every detail of her long, lean, pale frame pop. "Where the hell is my drink? It's dry as the damn Sahara over here..."
A droning beep echoed down the beach. It was a tow truck, yellow lights flashing in regular patterns. It's metallic cable led into the waves. The wench groaned as it dragged a silver Mercedes S-Class from the water. The tow truck driver seemed outright excited by the find, talking in his radio in Hawaiian and laughing as he operated the controls.
Heath stood like a statue, facing the water. His bow tie hung from his fingers, wind pulling at the ribbon of silk. His tailor-fitted Bottega Veneta tuxedo was still damp. One sleeve of the jacket ripped at the shoulder to the point one could see the dress shirt through the tear. His face showed signs of trauma, his cheek forming a dark bruise, his chin showing signs of abrasions. Tonguing at the split on his lip, the man reached into his jacket, pulling a silver flask from the inside pocket. His bare feet and toes curled in the sand, a pair of ruined tux shoes discarded nearby, originally from Saks Fifth Avenue or somewhere equally disgusting. Unscrewing the flask, Heath stretched his arm out in salute to the rental car, offering the slightest nod before taking a long, long drink.
As beautiful as the day was, it was easy to notice the things that didn't fit in. Lola walking down the beach like she was trying to find her missing canoe had people staring, little kids pointing, and parents pulling their younger children away from the Red and black haired woman's path.
Then the fact that there was Aurelie giving her little podcast to her viewers had people moving around to look at her, watching here. When she panned the phone across the beach, a group of obvious College Brahs all flexed muscles and called out absurd statements like, 'HEY MOM!' and 'YEAH! CLASS OF 09!'.
The flickering light of the tow truck garnered its own attention, to be sure. Especially since it was pulling a fairly expensive car out of the ocean, bit by bit. The sound of the long lines of steel pulling were a touch on the noticeable side, too. It wasn't until the car was a good halfway out of the water that something started steaming under the hood of the large tow truck. And then... something made a violent hissing sound. The horn of the truck began to blare, loud and like it was going to tell all of the traffic on this side of the island to get away.
As the horn of the tow truck kept blaring, the lights of the half submerged, rental Mercedes began flashing. Then, from the depths of that poor, wretched hood, the horn started to honk over and over, and the sound of the Mercedes' alarm could be heard, like it was being made through a whistle from under a cup of water.
Fiona squints up at that shadow, pulling head phones out of her ears. "Hey! I thought it suddenly got a bit warmer," she teases, squinting her eyes a little to exaggerate her joke. Grace speaking to Rick makes her look that way, and she tosses a smile Grace's way as well, sitting up so she's not looking awkwardly up from where she lies on her stomach. That's about when the tow truck and the half-submerged Mercedes start putting on their sad sounding version of Electrical Parade or something. "The hell happened there?" she murmurs, before squinting. "Oh, shit, it's the Vicomte," she says, frowning, and getting to her feet. "I know him," she says, before she begins to walk in his direction, presumably to check on him.
"Heath, right? You okay?" she asks, her tone a touch concerned.
Hearing his name has Rick looking around, and it doesn't take him long to spot Grace. "Well hey," he says, opening the umbrella and sticking the end of it into the sand. "You want a beer?" He turns back to Fiona then, and he grins, though before he can say anything else, the tow truck catches his attention. How could it not? He turns, his eyebrows raising high enough that they become visible past the edge of his shades. "Damn," he says, and while it may not be the most eloquent exclamation, it's probably apt. And then it starts to make all that noise, too. "What the hell?" he murmurs, looking back to Fiona just in time to see her start over toward Heath. "It's the what?" But whatever the Vicomte is will not be known at this point, alas. Maybe he can ask her later.
Grace gave a small, albeit kind smile to Fiona and nodded her head. "Ah, Fiona. I didn't recognize that as you. Good to see you also, and Aloha." She might have been about to say something else, likely to Rick, since he was right there, or maybe to Fi, either way, it didn't really matter, because the blaring sound of a horn, then two horns, and a car alarm from the deep started going off and it jerked Grace's attention toward Heath and his fallen auto rather surely. "You.. do?" Her eyebrows raised as Fiona went off to go check in and see if Heath was alright. Grace just shrugged slightly to Rick and moved to stand in a rolling, smooth motion, before she too started walking over, trailing behind Fiona. She scanned the area, curiosity filling her expression, and looked hard at the large tow truck as they came near it. Sniffing the air, her lips turned down and she covered her nose with the back of her mouth. "Oooh, that smells just awful." The scent of burning oil hitting engine block was never pleasant, not really.
Lola ignore the disturbance she leaves in the Force. Because this one is used to it. Given a slight upward twitch at the corner of her lips, she might even like the attention. After a fashion, anyway. At first, the truck only gets a hint of her attention. Not a common sight, but ultimately irrelevant to her interests. The car itself? More so. Destruction. Ruin. There is something almost appreciative in how she looks it over. Appreciating it, even. Though the sudden blaring of the horn.. horns. Alarm. She eyes the vehicles with a frown. Her nose twitching as she scents the air. Which prompts those eyes to narrow.
Iara smiles at Aurelie as she notices her. "Aloha Aurelie? Are you feeling better than before? Good to see you again.." Her gaze briefly sweeps the beach, spying the disheveled and slightly battered firm of Heath and she frowns a bit, stepping towards him. "Heath, right? Are you alright? What happened?" the sound of car horns and alarms however causes her to flinch, taking a step back,eyeing the noise warily. "What's going on?" she blocks her ears as best as she can, falling to her knees, wrinkling her nose. "Ugh...So loud..Make it stop!!"
Aurelie locates her beverage-in-a-coconut, and greets the drink like it's a long-lost lover, kissing the rim with pouted lips and closing her eyes to accept that first, glorious sip. Thus fortified, she takes a few selfies with the Brahs (hashtag oh-nine-so-fine), and raises her umbrella'ed coconut in a toast to the beer cooler brigade of Fiona, Rick, and Grace, and raises a hand to wave to a prowling Lola as she sucks down more sugary-sweet alcohol. Iara catches her eye and she returns the petite woman's smile with a brilliant one of her own. "Iara, hey! I'm telling you, hair of the dog that bit you is the best cure..." she gives a little slosh of her coconut. Then, well...a tow-truck and Mercedes spectacularly fail the synchronized swimming event. "Jesus H. Christ, Heath, what did you do? Fill the back of that car with your gold bouillon or something?" The leggy, fair-skinned woman flip-flops her way over to the man in the remnants of the suit. "Road head or really bad directions?" she inquires with a sweet bat of her eyes and a pouty smirk. "It takes some doing to end up in the drink all the way out here." She wrinkles her nose and nods to Iara's exclamation about the noise. "Yeah, that sound is really harshing my buzz."
Aurelie takes off her sunglasses and smacks her scarlet-painted lips on her way over to driver's side of the tow truck. "Hey there, stranger. Shitty day at work, huh?" She smiles at looks up at the driver through her lashes. "You know, if you just take off the emergency brake, this noisy hot mess will very quickly become a whole heap of not your problem. We can all enjoy our beach day, and tomorrow you go pick up your insurance check. Hmm?" She lightly nips at a fingertip while she waits for the driver to mull it over.
Heath maintained his 100 yard stare, generally reserved to Vietnam Veterans or children who grew up in areas dominated by warlord. It is the great indicator of individual that have seen too much and somehow survived. The man had to blink to tear his eyes from the surfacing. His eyes focused on the approaching Fiona, his mouth curling into a smirk. "This? This is just a little car trouble, and why mankind invented Triple A." The smirk bloomed in a radiant smile as his eyes took in the full form of Fiona, ensuring he'd later be able to paint a picture or a wall. He arched an eyebrow to Iara, "Unus momentum... Nunc velit." Heath looked back to the tow driver as his vehicle started singing, "For all that is Holy! This is not a fucking parade, please turn off that brain-searing sound, and if you have a firearm, please put my car out of its misery." He leveled an index finger at the Mercedes, dropping his thumb to illustrate. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, putting on a thousand watt smile, just for Aurelie. "Oh dearest Aurelie, I think I may have nodded off listening to your podcast." He took another swig from his flask, "Not that I was driving. My friend was operating the vehicle."
As people were busy trying to get themselves together, or attempting to raise enough noise to be heard over the two blaring horns, the car in the water began bouncing up and down like it was road testing its shocks. The Tow truck's wench started to make a whining sound, then began smoking, as if the car still half submerged was attempting to pull away and break free of the tow.
At the front of the tow truck, the massive, silver grill suddenly shot forward, bent nearly in half as it sailed through the air and landed with a thud on the dark beach. Parts came flying out from under the hood, hoses, metal bits that looked somewhat important.
And still those incessant horns howled into the afternoon without stopping their continual HONK, HONK, HONK.
Loa pages: strangely enough, when that grill went flying... there looked to be the outline of a dog, just like.. a normal dog.. sticking out of the engine compartment of the truck. And honestly... you might swear you can hear dogs howling along with the sound of the horns, mournfully.
Loa pages: but it's not a normal dog, it just looks like it might have been one. No, this one is definitely too see-through to be a normal dog.
She'll enlighten Rick later on her French fiction allusions. Grace is given a smile over her shoulder too, but Heath, despite being not much more than a stranger, has most of her attention at the moment. When Iara drops to her knees, Fiona takes a step back, glancing from her to Heath. "A little car trouble, sure. I hate it when I drive my car into a large body of water. Puts a damper on the day." But then Heath mentions a friend. "Your friend? Are they... where are they?" she says, glancing around for someone else with Heath. She winces as the noises begin to escalate, and then jumps visibly when the grill shoots forward, her dark eyes darting over to where it falls. "We should... maybe get out of the fallout zone, you think?" she asks, glancing from Heath to Rick to Grace to Iara, who she finally moves to, to try to tug up. The rest look like they can probably run if need be.
The driver of the truck is now pale as a set of hospital linens. His eyes are wide, and he can't quite seem to get things to be doing anything right. Letting out a holler as Aurelie came up to the side of the truck and talked to him through the window, he really did look like he was about to freak out. "You know what?! You think you can do better? Here you go, princess!" He shut off the truck, climbed out the front seat, and started walking away, taking his keys with him. Notably, the horn kept blaring, even with the power cut.
"Loa pages: The spirits seem really restless.. like the sounds are bothering them or something as they wait in their usual line. They keep clumping up close to one another, like they're clinging. It's.. not the usual rank and file of a smooth day on the Volcanic beach."
All that racket is definitely not pleasant, and Rick winces, putting a hand up to one of his ears. The fact that he has two and he can't cover them both with one hand doesn't seem to enter into the equation. However, something catches his eye, and he frowns, before he starts walking. Toward the tow truck. Oh, did you mean for him to do the opposite, Fiona? Sorry. "Hey, buddy," he says, to...the engine compartment of the truck. "You're okay." Whatever he's talking to, it seems to make him a lot sadder than it should. Maybe he's just really into trucks. He looks around briefly then, and then back to the truck, holding out his hand. "Come on, bud. Come here."
Grace watched Fiona talking to Heath, then gave him a nod as the two continued to speak. Obviously she didn't know either of them well enough to interrupt, but when Iara went to her knees, Grace made a soft sound and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Not here, it won't get quieter here, child!" Her words weren't horribly loud, but she was obviously trying to make them heard over the horn. "Come.." She motioned to Iara, and then nodded to Fiona when she tried to help the girl as well. "Let's get her out of direct line from the horns." She affixed Heath with a look, her eyes such a dark brown that even in the sunlight it was hard to tell where the iris stopped and the pupil began. "Get back from this, if it snaps, it might cut you." Grace nodded to the wench, and moved to get Iara, and thus Fi as well, back from the possible powder-keg of dangerous events around the business end of the tow truck and the partially submerged Mercedes.
Lola grunts as the grille of the vehicle pops off, her eyes widening slightly a few moments later. Noting.. something. And noting Rick's addressing.. something. She frowns faintly as she shifts her arm, going from hanging over the oar's haft to gripping it. But it remains leaning against her shoulder as she approaches Rick at a slow, rolling pace. Watching as she starts to close in steadily.
Iara squeezes her eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sounds and stifling scents, clearly more affected by this than the people around her perhaps. Whatever the case, she is too distracted to try and discern the situation, or to move away from random flying debris. When Fiona helps her to her feet, she blinks slowly, trying to focus on her and nothing else. "Ugh..Fiona..What's going on.." she murmurs, still quite disoriented but she is coherent enough to move away from ground zero so to speak. Once she is far enough away from the noise, she glances back towards Rick, peering at him curiously. "Wha..Dogs? A puppy? how did they get there? They must be so scared..." she also rubs her eyes, peering around at other things she hadn't noticed before, looking..Confused.
The tide is low and slack.
Aurelie receives Heath's jab with a slow, slow opening and closing of her eyes and an upwards flick of the brow, lips briefly pursed tight before they return to their brilliant white-and-scarlet smile. "Oh my God, thank goodness you said something! I normally don't create content for anyone quite as pickled as you are, and I had no idea how insensitive I was being." She shakes her head, melodramatically rueful, and then flips off the poor, shaken departing driver. "I prefer to only be addressed as princess by attractive people wearing leashes and feeding me strawberries, and you are none of those things," she dismisses the fleeing former tow-truck driver, and climbs up into the seat. And stares at the shifters and dashboard like she's trying to figure out how to drive the space shuttle. "How do I make you be quiet, and just go gently into that good night? Maybe..." she finds a promising looking stick (HIYOO) and grinds the vehicle into...some kind of gear. But not reverse, as intended...maybe first gear? And then she's being grabbed at by Heath. "What are you doing?! I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is neither the time nor the place!" Wear your seat-belts so this doesn't happen, kids.
Heath glanced back to Fiona, his smirk returning, sarcasm dripping off his words. "I gave my friend a snorkel. He'll be fine. Seriously?" The man gave the slightest shake of his head, "The sheriff was here to take statement, and got a ride back to the resort. As for anyone does not notice the green glowing emergency release in the trunk of the car, we pray the hand of natural selection is sw--" His eyes moved back to the water and the bouncing car in the water, his eyes went to the cable, offer only nod of silence agreement with Grace. Without a moment wasted, Heath climbed up to the cab of the truck. "If you let everyone jam their luggage into the trunk, it just wears out the latch." Heath gripped the material of her swim bottom, dragging the woman bodily to him and pulling her over his shoulder as he stepped back down, turning and carrying the woman from the tow truck at a hurried pace, not caring what he shook free.
The whining sound coming from the wench certainly wouldn't make anyone want to be anywhere near it. The reason for that soon became evident, as a horrifying CRACK sound filled the air, louder than the horns could hope to be. It echoed across the edge of the cliff faces that bordered the volcanic beach and reverberated back out toward the ocean.
The truck itself lurched, skidding backward a touch, meaning it was only a moment in between Heath taking Aurelie out of the cab and getting her to safety and a far more dangerous situation of trying to get her out of a moving vehicle. At the front of the truck, the horn suddenly started making a horrendous, off key noise, steadily, no fading or changing. Just BWEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRP like it would never run out of air.
After the lurch of the truck, there was another sound, like something ticking, or twanging... or clinking. Those at the rear or mid of the truck could likely see the steel cable fraying, but those at the front of the truck weren't so lucky, really. When it sprang apart, the car waiting to be towed up sank back into the water fast, but not as fast as the steel cable traveled forward through the cab. The front window shattered outward, spraying a mix of frayed cable and glass ahead of the truck, where it pelted Rick. When all was said and done, Rick was left with glass scrapes across his face, a couple of holes in his shirt, and a needle thin piece of twisted, rusty , steel, wire poking about an inch into the skin of his chest.
The water around the sunken car continued to bubble, even after the car had long since sunk down, and there seemed to be something thrashing in the water, though seeing it was impossible. It more looked like the car had caused a vortex or spinning water or air under the surface. Weird.
Loa pages: in the water, over the sinking car, there's a spectral dog attempting to swim for the dark sands of the Volcanic shore.
Loa pages: also, now the only sound that winds up and fades, in and out, is the dog in the engine compartment, attempting to pitch match with the constantly blurbing horn of the truck.
"Jesus. Are you never serious?" Fiona asks Heath with a shake of her head at his joke, but she doesn't actually look that offended by it. She moves back with Grace's urging, but then she turns when she Iara goes following Rick closer to the truck. "Guys!" she says, a little sharply. "Come on, Sunshine," that's for Rick, who's just a bit too close to the truck for her liking.
When the truck lurches, her eyes widen, and she covers her mouth rather than stand there agape. But then what she was hoping to avoid happens, and Rick is pelted with truck shrapnel. "Rick!" she cries out, and moves forward to help him, stumbling a little and no doubt wishing she had shoes on -- black sand is hot, and then there's glass and metal laying about.
Being in front of that truck was probably not the best idea. Rick is still trying to coax nothing out of the engine compartment, but as he turns to look at Fiona when she calls to him, the cable snaps, and breaks the front windshield. He tries to dodge, but he's just too close.
This is what we call 'natural consequences,' folks.
He lets out a pained cry as the glass scrapes across his face, at least managing to close his eyes. It'll leave a mark, though. But that's not what he seems to be paying attention to. No, he sees that piece of steel sticking out of him just as he lets out another cry, this time much louder. And possibly quite a bit louder than the thing might seem to warrant. "Fuck!" he yells, and he reaches for it, his fingers fumbling for purchase on it to try and rip it out, but for some reason he can't seem to get a good grip on it. "Get it out!"
Grace cringed a touch to the side, avoiding being struck by any errant glass, hopefully. Her eyes survey the damage, looking to the fact that the Mercedes was now underwater and blessedly silent save for the strange water well effect it was having. Visually checking over Heath and Aurelie, she seemed relieved, until her brows knit together and she heard Rick screaming. "RICK?" Grace's words were more worried than usual as she came up toward the front of the truck and saw him staring at a long, thin, sliver of metal stuck into his chest. "I... I don't want to say something cruel here, but it almost sounded like you'd lost an arm to the wire coming free. This seems... Less than that." She raised her brows high, looking at Fiona, and then Lola and Iara, as they were close. "Is it.. all the way through him?"
The tide is low and rising.
Lola hops back when the tow line snaps and lashes out at Rick. Reacting instinctively as the oar pops froward in a guard position. She settles back into a ready stance without a thought. The thinking comes a moment later as she notes that she's not the one assailed by the cable, some of that tension fading slightly. Though the disturbance in the water draws her attention. Her attention flicking towards the cab of the truck as well. Flitting back and forth as she frowns faintly. Bemused.
But her moment of pause ends when Rick draws attention to his hip new piercing. His final shout gets her attention and her head cants. Grace's question gets her attention, but she ignores it as she steps forward, her oar slung over her shoulder again. She comes around Rick's side casually, turning to face him from the side. She smirks and lifts a hand to flick the end of the sliver with her finger. Which.. probably won't feel good. "Nope," she states, that little curl of her lips remaining.
Iara is studying first aid but is not yet at the level to properly assess and mend Rick's injury. However at this distance she can't really check out the severity of it either. Instead, she searches her pockets for some Kleenex, stuffing them as tightly in her ears as she can before cautiously approaching Rick, glaring a bit at Lola. "Don't do that, it'll only make it worse!" but her eyes widen as she comes closer, staring at the blood and fresh wound, almost trance-like. Gritting her teeth she suddenly, impulsively yanks out the metal in Rick's side, staring hungrily at the blood, turning away a bit as she brings the bloody piece of metal to her lips.
Aurelie is dragged out of the cab of the tow truck and thrown over Heath's shoulder. She drapes an arm across her ample chest in at least a token effort to keep on her bikini top even as gravity and being upside down take effect. "Heath, you son of a bitch, I'm going to - HOLY SHIT!" Her sunglasses straight fall off her face as her sea-green eyes go wide watching the metal cable impale the windshield and Rick in turn. "...I'm going to make you a gift basket full of artisan club drugs and imported contortionists." Her eyes gleam with silvery light and her entire countenance effervesces like freshly popped champagne. "Well, aren't you just the cat's pajamas, Heath? Eve is going to be so disappointed you didn't let me get skewered." Hanging upside down from the man's shoulder, she reaches up to tease the fingertips of her free hand down the back of his neck. "You can't put me down now, why don't we sit and watch the show?" she purrs.
Heath didn't so much as flinch as the cable snapped and took out part of the cab of the truck. He flashed a smirk to Fiona, "I'm serious when things are important, which live is..." Stopping with Aurelie over his shoulder to see if anyone was dismembered, because Rick's screams were a good candidate for missing limbs. The man stopped dead in his track, lifting a foot to shake out the leg of his tux.
Then there was a resounding crack from his hand slapping Aurelie's ass, and then he just dumped her unceremoniously on the ground. Taking her chin in his hand as he leaned over to stare at the succubus, right in those silvery eyes. His mouth formed a smirk, "She'll be disappointed I let you survive for like two seconds." His eyes fell to Aurelie's chest for a split second then returned, "Then she's not going to stop laughing for hours after she hears I left you sitting in the sand with your tits hanging out." The man chewed on his own tongue, "They're nice by the way." And that man turned and walked, letting out a roar like he just won the Super Bowl.
The strange disruption in the water was finally calming down, though it had notably gotten quite close to the shore before it did. Now, the waterfront was quiet again, with the Mercedes fully submerged. It would be hard to notice that it had gone down there at all.
The truck's horn still balefully blew into the daylight, loud as all hell, and not giving any signs of slowing down or stopping. Despite the fact that the engine was off, pieces still kept flying out of it, bouncing off of those nearby, a piece of hose, dripping with antifreeze, bounced off of Iara's shoulder while she was busy testing Rick's blood for impurities.
Rick got slapped with an oil-ridden gasket that managed to hold on to part of a manifold curve and slopped down to the ground at his feet. Springs and clips bounced onto the ground near Lola and Fiona's feet. A few moments later, a loud THUNK was heard as the engine shifted to the side and one of the main bolts holding it in place sheered off, falling onto the sand under the engine compartment.
Loa pages: The spectral dog that had been desperately swimming is now on the land, sitting, throwing its head back and letting out howl after howl in time with the horn going off on the truck. Inside the engine compartment, the other dog was still clearly mostly inside it, scraping, biting, ripping the thing to shreds and then howling every so often like it was answering the other spectral hound.
"Seriously?" Fi says, ignoring Heath and staring at Lola when the other woman gives the sliver of metal a flick. "You don't know how deep it is-" She doesn't get very far in that lecture because Iara's plucking it out and tasting it.
Fi's eyes get wide, horrified, and she clearly has no words. Instead she hauls off and punches the more petite girl. She immediately looks like she's shocked at her own violent outburst, and she backs away. The fact the truck is still throwing off its parts like it's a Pep Boys having a fire sale gives her all the more reason to move away, reaching for Rick's hand to tug him with her, before turning and walking a little away from everyone, her hands going up to the top of her head, her chin tipping up toward the sky as she breathes, similar to a racer walking it out after a run.
Rick hasn't managed to get the thing out before Lola comes up to him and flicks it. It doesn't help. He screams, and now there's anger mixed in there with the pain, too. And then Iara is so kindly removing the metal shard. And licking it. It is all, apparently, too much for him -- he has lost every last bit of his chill. So, once that sliver is removed, he rounds on Lola, taking a swing at her.
"What the //fuck//, bitch?!"
Grace, for her part, looked somewhat shocked. Her eyes had widened, the absolute insanity she was witnessing making her finally blink. Breasts. Punches. People flicking metal stuck in another person's chest. Punches. It was like some part of her short circuited. Sliding her arms to cross them in front of her chest, she cocked a hip and watched, her mouth drawn into a fine, unbroken line of disapproval as she didn't make a move to stop any of it. Clearly, this would all sort itself out, and at the very least, it was impossible to figure out what side of anything was the right side, right now.
Lola's eyes light up as Rick responds to that little flick of the metal shard. It's a cold light. Something particularly cruel that seems to spark out of nowhere. "Mmmm.." Hummed to herself as Iara snatches the sliver out. Rick's outcry at that only seems to cement her attention on him. "You sound good," she tells him before her eyes dip and she snaps up a spring from the mess that gets dropped at her feet. She's not even paying attention to the strangeness. And while Fiona is rumbling with Iara, she lets her oar slip down, butt against the ground, leaned against her shoulder. That gives her two hands to slowly start straightening out the spring. "Wanna see what sound you make when this gets pushed all the way through?" The tip of her tongue pokes out just slightly before she says, "I know I d-"
Then he's taking a swing at her. A damn good one. Her brief distraction seems to delay her just enough that her snap tilt of the head lags just a fraction. A hard graze that leaves a shallow cut to one lip and a hint of red. Which disappears when her tongue flicks out to swipe it casually. She straightens, head canting slowly as she stares at Rick. "Do you want to play? It looks like you want to play." Something darkly malevolent in that tone suggests 'play' is not.. 'fun' with her. A shift of her shoulder has the oar in hand again, though still planted against the ground, the other hand holding the partially straightened spring.
Shadows lengthen and the light turns golden as the sun sinks toward the west through a clear sky.
In fact, he does want to play. And Lola is happy to oblige. That Spring has to get used, doesn't it? She doesn't hesitate. She simply snaps her hand up and shoves the spring at him. There is no particular target, except for him as a whole. But there is a great deal of force from someone who shows not a hint of hesitance when it comes to hurting people. But she does let go once she's shoved it into his flesh. There is that at least. She breathes out lowly. "You poke good, boy," she murmurs. Almost a throaty coo in her harsh, aggressive tone of voice. What exactly is wrong with her? "Want another?"
Iara is still mesmerized by the streak of bright red blood oozing along the length of metal that she pulled from Rick. She closes her eyes as she opens her mouth, hungrily sliding her tongue against the cold blood-tinged metal, momentarily forgetting all else that is going on around her..Until Fiona rounds on her and violently punches her in the face. Her eyes widen, snapping out if it in an instant, quickly waking up to the horrible realization of what she has just done. "Huh?! Fiona...Rick? Ugh...No..." she hangs her head, stumbling back a bit and dropping the piece of bloody metal in her hands. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..." she is well aware of something along the shoreline, staring at it in confusion, then back to the noise around the truck and whatever is still stuck in it. Then more chaos as Lola and Rick starting brawling..What the heck's going on?! She draws a deep breath as she tries to compose herself, knowing she's no good to anyone like this.
Aurelie thankfully lands next to her fallen sunglasses, which she pops over her silvery eyes with nice, camouflaging rose lenses. She returns Heath's compliment with a sultry smile. "Why, thank you, Heath, I grew them myself." Instead of reaching for her fallen top, she reaches for...her cell phone. One arm concealing anything that would get her banned from Twitter (looking at you, nipples), she snap-snap-snaps a few classic pin-up style selfies. She blows a red-painted kiss and purrs to the woman looking back from her selfies, "God damn, you should be illegal, you sexy thing." Now trending: #beachlife #feelslikesomethingsmissing #retweetforcharity #blessed #forrealthowheresmytop
With all the blood and chaos flying around, plus the strange things she keeps seeing, Iara is in no shape to be much help here. She backs away quickly, fleeing from the beach and trying to make as much space between herself and the chaos and blood as she can.
The evening stars come out as the red-orange sun sinks below the horizon.
Heath blew a kiss over his shoulder back towards Aurelie. "Can't keep a good girl down on all fours, I guess. I hope you have video, because this tux makes my ass look great." Walking back towards the others, Heath's jaw dropped as the slaps and then the full out stabbing. The man walked straight out in Lola's face and started screaming over the horns on the truck. "Congratulations sweetheart. You just committed assault with a deadly weapon, and seeing as I know a City Counselor personally. You have just signed your ass to my shit list, and you're my personal project. You're going to be reported, they're going to find you, and your ass is going to be arrested. I hear jail is horrible place. I will personally hire investigators to help the prosecution for when they take your ass to court. The trial will not go well, I promise you." He looked back to Aure, "Pictures please!" The man actually flashed a peace sign and a smile to her.
The horn keeps making that terrible, howling sound in a constant roar into the broad daylight. But then slowly, the light's fading out, as the sun begins its dip below the horizon, and there's an actual sensation of something tugging, or becoming freed up, in the lower bellies of all supernaturals and magic users. Night... It's right there, and we've hit dusk. Things stop flying out from the engine compartment, even though it keeps making that horrible honking.
A horrific, loud shriek can be heard a hundred feet past the beach, up where the shelf of the cliff side meets nothing but air. And there, two beings come into view. Menacing and tall, they looked to be wearing clothing right out of the mid-1900's. But their hands were distended and elongated, holding huge, black claws at the tips of their fingers. Their mouths had opened wide enough that the flesh to either side of their lips had torn to make room for jaws filled with teeth that shined metallic in the waning sunlight. When they stepped off the cliff, they sort of half floated, half zoomed, right toward the truck and all of its noise.
Loa pages: The dog kept digging at the engine, trying to shut off the horn. The other dog just kept howling at the top of its lungs, attempting to possibly mask the sound of the horn? And then... another sound starts to become more obvious from the line of ghosts. A little boy, crying, and he's covered in thick, black blood all over his little body.
Loa dropped Spectral Woman.
Loa dropped Spectral Man.
Fiona's only gone a little bit away before she turns back, her hands coming to her mouth again as she watches with wide eyes. "Jesus, what is *wrong* with you?" she adds to the mix, but that's about all she gets out before those terrifying, warped figures float into view. Her eyes widen and she takes another step backward, stumbling, because walking backward in debris-ridden sand isn't easy. She falls backward onto her rear and just stares at the things. "Rick, you see those right?" she asks -- it's a quick sanity check. Of course he sees more of 'those' things than she ever does, on a daily, but if he doesn't see them now, she might be in trouble.
To his surprise, Rick's hit actually...well, hits. He's too pissed off to revel in it, though. "I want you to stay the fuck away from me!" he yells back at Lola, only to have to dodge out of the way of another long, sharp piece of metal. Or attempt to dodge, since it doesn't work -- at all -- and he ends up with it sticking out of his shoulder. His eyes go wide, too, the color draining from his face. "Pero la puta madre que te pario, loca de mierda!" he exclaims, and he doesn't even try to deal with her anymore -- or pull out the thing, either. Instead, he gets into the truck as much as he can, because that didn't turn out badly the first time or anything. It's not all that clear what he's doing, until he yells, "Someone figure out how to turn off this fucking horn!" He doesn't actually answer Fiona, but he does nod enough that she could probably see it from space.
The tide is high and rising.
The stars glitter like diamonds in the deep sapphire blue of the night sky.
Grace had watched it all, and may well have been going to scream or yell or really truly give someone the sleeper's touch, because that actually exists... Until there was the shrieking coming from overhead. In all the madness, that was likely the thing that caused her head to lift, and her eyes to focus. She moved slightly to the left and rolled her shoulders, motioning to Fiona. "Fiona.. get up. GET UP. Everyone sees them." The warning on Grace's grim face might be enough to demonstrate that she was decidedly concerned, but the fact that her tone when she told Fi to get up was sharp, well, that likely spoke far further volumes for anyone that knew Grace's usual tone of voice.
When Heath starts to scream at her, it gives her pause. Yet where most might be shoved down into some manner of whimpering mess, the woman weathers the verbal assault with little more than a receding of her focus on Rick and the malevolent blood-lust fading. It's enough of an opening that there is a sudden shift in Lola's demeanor. "What? No, not.." Her voice rising in annoyance and anger.. not at Heath, however. Her head dips forward suddenly, but only for a moment before it pops back up. And a cascade of purple and white coloring glides through her hair. Her expression.. 'normalizes' from the hard, rigid one she held before. Her stance relaxing some. She looks at Heath and states, "Self defense, he attacked me first." Her voice.. normal, rather than harsh. Then her attention shifts towards the elongated horrors. "And it looks like we have other problems, besides my troublesome sister." She pauses, her brow furrowing. "I have seen those before. They are dangerous."
As the two rather horrifying, obviously corporeal specters came down, they broke away from one another. The male of the two, notable only because of his breeches, lifted his arms and let out a shriek that literally caused the sand of the volcanic beach to vibrate and tremors to rock their way up the side of the cliff. Many people that had stayed behind, flashing pictures of the altercation and the topless Aure, both in equal measure, started screaming. The scent of human urine became clear as it tinged the air and people began running away in droves, leaving the area, some of them even going out to sea as if that death was more preferable to the death by a possible demon or ghostie.
The female of the two specters went straight for the truck. Her claws slashed into it, cutting through the covering left over the engine compartment, and started sheering through metal deep into the guts of what made the truck once move and roar. After two slices, the sound of the horn mercifully died out completely and all that could be heard was the terror of humanity fleeing and the horrible tearing and screaming of metal as it was ripped apart.
Aurelie snapped a couple of pics of Heath and Lola, and of the other brawls taking place on the beach - nothing says 'viral' like violence and nudity! Of course, the new arrivals have buzzkill written all over them, and a discontented Aurelie rises to her feet as she ties her black bikini top around herself again, staring at them through narrowed, silvery eyes, but as the female specter does a number on the truck and the horn dies, she smiles. "Well, don't judge a book by its cover. That razor-mawed dame just became my favorite person."
Heath shook his head, his mouth holding its smirk. "That's not what I saw, sweetheart, but I'm sure I'll be collecting names of witnesses after this is all done." He gestured to the others present, "Hell, you're welcome to wait here for the cops with us. It should speed things along nicely." The wraiths forming near the cliff and their screeching, and the man frowned, stilling as he debated exactly how much he was shaken. "Exsurgat Deus..." The man took a shaky breath, risking a glance towards the specters, "Fuck..." The man wasted no time beating feet to get to the cab of the truck. "Why in all that is Holy that you fuckers keep getting in this truck!" There was no permission, and Heath grabbing Rick by his britches. He dragged the man out of the cab and onto his shoulder with a groan. The man even smirked, "Your tits going to come out too?" And there that, he fireman carried away from the vehicle.
Without the horrendous blaring into the waning light, things seem almost better for everyone that's been suffering through that terrible noise. Except for the screaming of metal. And Screaming of specters. And the screaming of people running away, being trampled by one another, or possibly drowning in an attempt to escape fear.
Loa pages: The little boy is still running down the line of ghosts as fast as his tiny, broken, and blood soaked legs could carry him. Which is surprisingly fast. The line of ghosts leading up to their point of jump off into the beyond is reacting to the screaming specters terribly. Some of them are fading in and out of visibility, some just literally vanish. Some fall down and cover themselves around the head and neck with their arms, as if protecting themselves. You can tell the ghosts that are really far gone as they literally just stand in line like nothing's happening.
The pup in the engine let out a sharp whine and was suddenly out of the engine compartment, favoring the hell out of its right front leg, and then limping toward the back of the truck where the other, now silent, spectral dog sits.
Fiona nods a couple of times in response to Grace when the other woman tries to keep Fiona from freaking out. But there's only so much that can be done, honestly. She stares in horror for a moment, then breathes a sigh of relief as Rick is dragged out by Heath when the truck starts to get ripped to pieces. That's all the warning she needs, because she's a lot more fragile than steel. She turns, but has the presence of mind to grab her bag and blanket, before running toward the path that will take her to the street where her car is parked. "Come on, you guys!" she says earnestly over her shoulder, but, sorry friends, she keeps running, whether they join her or not.
Rick gets hauled unceremoniously from the truck, and he does not do anything to stop it. Considering that a second later, the truck gets slashed into pieces. "Only if you ask real nicely," he manages to say -- whistling in the dark? -- and he reaches up to yank the spring from his shoulder. Are you supposed to remove things that have gone through your body? Probably not. Oh well. "Thanks, brah." Despite the shakiness of his voice, the words sound sincere. "They're wraiths," he says as he gets carried away and, one hopes, set down at some point. As though anyone needed that information. Maybe the next stuff is more useful. "Hit 'em hard and fast. Unless anyone here can make a rip in reality and shove 'em through that." With this crowd, who knows?
Grace sighed darkly, but nodded as Fiona ran off, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. A little. Not all of it, to be sure. When the instructions came to hit hard and fast, though, Grace's demeanor shifted a bit and she seemed more focused, though her hands still shook from the thorough fear reaming she'd taken. Moving toward the source of that fear, the male wraith, Grace led with a series of sharp, bladed-hand style movements, attempting to come into contact with some points that would deal pain and hopefully even paralysis. Unfortunately, as she struck, all she seemed to come against was the cloth of the male wraith's clothing, as she sailed past it, making her lips draw down into a frown as she gave the creature a dire look.
Lola looks at the spirits, already feeling the weight of her Sister's misadventures, the shriek of the male form prompting a reevaluation of the situation. Typical Sister. She makes the trouble and Nature has to deal with the results. She looks back at Heath. "Well, if you're going to be like that.." She turns, starting to walk away from the whole thing. "No sense making things easy on you, after all. Enjoy the rumble." The oar is hoisted over her shoulder as she goes. As she does she notes to Aurelie, "Might not be back for a while. We'll see. If not, let my boy know I'm fine."
Lola heads back toward the Leeward Coast.
The spectral man watched as Grace came up and attempted to hit him, repeatedly. He moved around her driving hands like it was nothing, a simple game of dance or 'don't catch the cooties'. When she was done, he lashed out with his claws at her, attempting to slap her across the face and neck, but Grace managed to dodge away from him with her fast footwork.
The Female of the two continued to tear at the truck, her arms finally slowing as she managed to rip the entire engine from the center, causing it to drop to the ground. Ladies and gentlemen, the truck is Dead.
Aurelie rubs her temples again as the shriek of the car horn is replaced by the shriek of the wraiths, and tearing metal, and screaming people... "Buzzkill," the lissome blonde mutters under her breath, before she removes her glasses and stretches her arms out towards the spectral woman. "Come to me," Aurelie purrs, positively luminous beneath the fading light. "I can take that pain away. I can make you feel something much better. Come to me."
Heath panting heavily as he moved, set Rick down on the ground so he could stand on his own power. "Wraiths... Crazy fuckers that think Veil diving is fun." Turning, Heath cast a glare the sky, "I swear... Michael! I fear there has been some slacking in the ranks, you miserable cunt!" For the lacking in religious ritual, it appeared Heath just threw his hand in the air, holding them there like he was trying to form a Dragonball Z style Spirit Bomb. Not that Heath could throw a Spirit Bomb. That shit is way too cool for his wreaked tux wearing ass. It probably looked strange, him throwing up two Vultan Greetings and having the sides of his thumbs touching together above him. Heath locked his gaze on the Spectral Man as Heath poured every ounce of his conviction into the Latin words, shouted at the top of his lungs, "Exsurgat Deus et dissipentur inimici ejus, et fugiant qui oderunt eum a facie ejus!" No bright and shining lights or swords from Heaven. This is a battle of wills and the Specter was one to flinch.
Loa pages: The little boy continues to run, and the spectral dogs have started to trot off toward him, though the one is still limping, dripping black-blood stuff behind him that fades away to nothing after a few seconds on the ground.
Rick gets up and looks around, wincing a little as he glances quickly to his shoulder that he will probably need to wrap up at some point. But not right now. Right now, he turns...and starts to run toward the bluff. For whatever reason. "Hey!" he calls, at nothing that is apparent to anyone here. "Hey, buddy! Wait a sec!" He grimaces as he pushes a little harder, willing himself to go faster. As he runs, he speaks -- or tries to. It's a little gasping at this point. "I know you want to go, I get that! Everything's gonna be okay! Just wait one sec, yeah?"
Grace, it would seem, might be less than pleased at the creature's ability to completely dodge her attacks. Reaching down, she hefted a piece of the engine block, and stood up. Staring at the thing, she waited until Heath had his attention with the cruelty of his words, and then she moved. It was a wicked hit, She leapt into the air holding the hunk of heavy metal up high, then brought it down in a violent arc against the back of the Wraith's skull. The cracking and then shattering sound of its head caving in would have been sickening if it wasn't so satisfying. She followed through, driving forward until there were bits of brain and skull caked onto her hand, and when she came to the ground, she looked at the creature with pure, emptiness in her eyes. Eyes that had become swimming, empty pools lacking reflection. The light around Grace seemed to suck into her, like it was being swallowed away, and not even the slight sheen of sweat that should have reflected any ambient glint could do so, she was matte, and looked almost hollow. Hungry, as the dark circles shaded the delicate, soft flesh under her eyes. "Die." She spoke matter of factly, her voice lacking much of any emotion but finality.
The male of the two wraiths was decidedly not doing well... he spun around and with a scream of total disbelief he lashed out at the creature that had harmed him so foully. And missed... because the woman simply wasn't going to stay still for his flailing to catch her with his claws.
The female that Aurelie had called to so surely lifted her head, her gruesome mouth opening wider as it spread into a disastrous imitation of a smile. Then she moved, closing the distance between herself and Aurelie with shocking speed. She quite obviously wanted not only Aurelie, but what was IN her, and the best way to get in was Through. As she attempted to slice her way into the softer, sacred bits of the White Court Vampire, Aurelie's brazen blood kept her safe, moving the Raith away from the Wraith with enough speed to make it look like she was taunting the spirit.
The tide is high and slack.
Loa pages: The poor little broken child continued to scramble, though it was obvious that his efforts were tremendous and took their toll. He looked up at the approaching Rick and sobbed softly. "If I don't go, they won't stop... they just keep taking me back to that place, all the time. I want to move on. I want to go..." And he just kept moving, crawling now, leaving a thick, black trail behind him from where he'd sustained such horrendous injuries.
Aurelie coyly ducks out of the way of the female wraiths hungry onslaught, her body moving with inhuman speed and agility. "Now now, here? In front of everyone? I know you want me, but honestly, doesn't delayed gratification make it all the sweeter?" The smoky sweetness in Aurelie's voice intensified, as did the effervescent champagne glow emanating from her. All of the green in her eyes had drained away to be a vivid silver to bright as to almost look white. "Let's dance a little, first - I know all the steps, do you, Lover?"
Heath was still doing his Dragonball impression. It was actually a Dukhanen... Which may sound sort of like kamehameha, but it's not. Dukhanen is Yiddish for platform. As to raise one's hands to a higher platform so they are closer to G-d. The Latin that he can screamed as straight fire and brimstone from the Old testament: "Sicut fumus ita deficiant sicut fluit cera a facie ignis, sic pereant peccatores a facie D-i!" For the folks at home, part of that translates to 'As wax melteth before the fire...' The spectral man shrieked once more, black ichor began to ooze from his eyes, nose and mouth. The other orifices were blessed covered in rags, but those too began to blacken, is ectoplasm started oozing from its skin. It splashed on the ground as the leakage became torrential. The specter landed and in short order, collapsed to its hands and knees as it continued to uncontrollably vomit its very existence until it faded from the material plane. Heath didn't smile or smirk, his gaze moving to Aurelie and her ghosted ghost.
"I know, buddy," Rick says, still running, until he slows up a little way from the bluff. "I get it." He reaches down for something on the ground, and picks up...well nothing. But he does it gently, like it's something very precious, or fragile. Or both. "It's gonna be okay." The nothing in his arms causes another wince, but not too large of one this time as he walks the rest of the way, stopping at the edge. "You go ahead now." And then he just makes a tossing motion, as though throwing whatever he was holding over the edge.
Grace's eyes tracked the movement of the other creature going after Aurelie, and after a moment, Grace was simply there, moving with that disturbing, inhuman stealth, the speed a thing that mortals shouldn't be comfortable with, ever. As the specter was obviously busy, Grace simply pulled her arm back, then spun her body in time with the hunk of engine block she held, bringing it with a mighty CRACK against the side of the female wraith's skull. The skull shattered, the hunk of metal did not. And the Wraith was flung to the side, down to the ground, where she immediately started to seep into the ground. Grace took a deep breath and walked over above the fallen wraith and brought the hunk of engine down on her head two more times for good measure, collapsing it entirely, to ensure the thing was entirely dead. She only stopped when its form started to completely incorporealize.
Loa pages: As Rick picked up the broken boy, it was obvious the child was in pain, but he offered an utterly beautiful smile up to the man as he was carried to the edge. And then, he just nodded, his lips a delicate arc of peace as he closed his eyes. As he hit the horizon, after Rick threw him, the little boy vanished in a flash of green light, bright and pure, and was no more.
Aurelie smacks her scarlet-painted lips as her "dance partner" fades away into the puddle of goo. "Done already, Lover? I hate it when they don't have the stamina to last." But the hungry grin settled across her radiant face suggests she may not be as disappointed as she says. "You move well," she tells Grace, tipping a playful wink before hiding her eyes behind her rose colored glasses once more. "What I could see, at least, was an absolute pleasure to watch." The blonde stretches sinuously, the length of her bikini clad body glistening with a touch of sweat from the evening's exertions, and the cause of that strange glow. Surely. Picking up her throw from the ground, she slings it around her waist and knots it at the hip, sashaying her way towards Rick. "Who was that?" she asks, canting her head towards the edge that he threw...nothing...over. "Oh, Heath...that was hot." She smiles that smoky smile and scrolls through the selfies on her phone. "Well, well...new followers in Waikiki. That's convenient." Her smile has just a little bit too much tooth to be wholesome.
Heath let out a slow relaxing breath as the second wraith faded. His eyes drifted to Rick chucking 'nothing' over the cliff. "I think it's safe to say blood loss is a contributing factor. Why don't you take a load off and rest. Ms. Frost already has her phone out and would be happy to call the police and the paramedics." His eyes went back to Aurelie, and his mouth curved into a smile. "You have a little something..." The man gestured to the corner of his mouth, acting as her mirror. The fact he literally gestured to his whole face and body within seconds was likely less helpful. "It's the whole complexion really. Most women don't pull off pale, but you do." He winked at the woman, and pulled out his flask, taking a drink. He offered a nod to Grace, "I don't suppose you care to hang around to speak to the police? I get splitting when... Well..." He gestured to the wreaked tow truck, "I'm in the unique position of not giving two shits."
As the beach was now mostly deserted, it's likely the police were already on their way. Everything was, for a change, blissfully silent save for the sound of the waves crashing against the darkness of the nearly black sand beach,
Rick watches something over the side, and he smiles a little bit at whatever he sees. He wipes a hand across his face to dash away the tears that have started to fall, though he is still quiet. He turns to start back to where the rest of them are, a low though audible sniff emitting from him as he gets there. After Aurelie has already asked her question, though, so he doesn't hear it.
"Nice job, Cherry Ice," he says once he arrives, and he does manage a smile toward Aurelie, before his gaze shifts toward Heath. "Thanks for before, man," he adds. "Don't worry about doing anything else." Not that he would! But it bears mentioning. He gives a nod toward Grace, too, before he starts to gather up whatever he can of the wraiths in a pouch made from his shirt -- it's not much at this point, but it's something. Once he's done that, he turns around again, starting toward the bluff one more time. It's a lot slower going this time around, but he'll probably make it.
The tide is high and ebbing.
Grace had fallen to a sort of stillness. It was... more a lack of motion than an attempt to be motionless, as if it was utterly natural for her, even as a living creature, to be a stopping point of all inertia. When she moved, it was slight, and she looked at Aurelie for a moment with all her glow and life bleeding from her, the lust obviously something that could be felt. Hunger somehow crept into her expression, through her mouth opening slightly, as if she had to pant, without making the exaggerated motions of breathing. When she looked at Heath, she simply shook her head. "I don't care one way or another, really, but I don't believe it matters if we all leave. There are no dead bodies, only reports to be filed, which could be done tomorrow after I managed to get myself in slightly better sorts." Her tone was matter of fact, succinct even, all while she marginally tilted her head to the side and examined Heath, with nothing but a slow sweep of her eyes.
Rick's approach drew Grace's attention and her eyes widened slightly, but she simply swallowed and nodded. "Yes. I need to leave." She bowed graciously to the others, then turned to walk away. The fact she was still in just a purple swimsuit while heading back to pick up her backpack, shoes, and cover up didn't seem to have any effect on the entirely composed way she moved.
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