2237-07-24 - A Bit Of Sand

Roths and Tavo take a moment to catch their breaths on the beach.

Date: 2237-07-24

Location: Beach

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 318

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Finding a little corner of the beach that offers some sense of peace is difficult in Argentum Bay, but Rothschild has managed. It is far enough away from the boardwalk to thin the crowds, and she has selected a place close to the surf where she's unrolled the rented blanket. The sun is still rather low in its climb, mid-morning offering a bit of peace before the afternoon droves come in. She is in her off-duties, still waiting for her belongings to come in from the Vanguard. Her pants have been rolled to her knees so she can bury her feet and ankles in the sand with her rump on the blanket edge.

Tavo walks through the sand toward the blanket, his shoes (with wadded-up socks stuffed in them) in his left hand (the arm still bound tight to his chest) and a pair of tube-pastries dusted in cinnamon sugar and wrapped in checkered paper. Since he was on the Vanguard when it set down, he has more of his gear, including a pair of exercise shorts and dual tanks. As he drops down with a groan and offers out one of the treats, "Churros. You shouldn't miss them when you come to Scorpia." There's a pause, "You gonna miss the Vanguard, Dora?"

"Churros?" Rothschild repeats the word carefully as she takes the offered treat. She examines it carefully, and then arches a brow to Tavo. "It isn't even lunchtime yet." Then she takes a bite, carefully catching the falling clumps of sugar and cinnamon as she does. She chews carefully, shrugs a shoulder, and then nods her approval. The question about the Vanguard slows her chewing a bit, and then she shakes her head. "No." She glances over toward the Scorpian. "I actually had requested the Galactica in my transfer from the PR trail." She hesitates then, and a small smile twitches at her lips. "I'm glad they didn't fulfill my request, but I didn't really consider the Vanguard home. Merely a stopping point."

"It's pastry. You can eat it for breakfast." Debatable. Very debatable. Doesn't stop them from selling the things as soon as the little carts open. Rothschild's approval draws a little nod from Tavo, and he tucks his own churro into his mouth, setting down the paper in his lap, and transferring his shoes from his left hand to the edge of the blanket. Only then does he catch up the pastry again, chewing as he nods in response to her answer. "Me too." In response to her being glad. "I think I might miss a few places on her. Not the bunks though." He colors a little and glances over to Rothschild, then shakes his head and looks back toward the sea, "I mean that I think they were an inch or two smaller than on Galactica."

Rothschild starts to laugh at the sight of blushing Tavo, and she takes a bite from her own churro again. She settles a bit closer to the Scorpian until her shoulder can rest against his own -- a fair attempt at this public-public status they are trying. She tilts her head as she regards the big man. "You mean you'll miss the arms locker... and the pyramid court. Perhaps the arena?" Her mouth quirks then. "Anywhere else?" There's a hint of mischief in her voice before she turns her gaze back out to the ocean as it laps its way up the shore.

Tavo's brows rise as she settles against him, but he offers up a smile to sooth away the surprise, nodding and giving her shoulder a little nudge with his own. Her list, however, brings the color back up to where it had started to bleed away from his cheeks, "Yeah. That's most of the list. The lounge wasn't bad, but I mean, it was just a lounge." His bare toes nudge at the sand just off the blanket, "So. Back on duty this evening, then on to Celeste tomorrow." Because he's not nervous to show her his home town or anything.

"Mmhmm. Nothing exciting ever happened in the lounge." The Leonese woman is quite amused now, but she just settles into the moment with a small tilt of her head. The mention of Celeste has her nodding slowly, but she hesitates before offering, "We can make it a short trip if you're really uncertain. Or perhaps just go for a hike instead of worrying about anything else." She takes another bite of churro.

"Nothing exciting," the big man clears his throat, then shakes his head, "but it was still nice. And now you're just trying to make me blush." Tavo's complaint is mostly pro-forma. He draws in a breath at her offer, shaking his head, "Naw. Just another opportunity for my sister to give me crap, and to see how many new gray hairs the tourists have given mom." He chuckles faintly, "Hell, you might even take some heat off me, just by being someone new and exciting." There's a grunt, and he adds, "And Leonese. Definitely going to want that hike."

"Yes." Rothschild starts to laugh, and her hand settles against one blushing cheek to sooth away the red with a gentle brush of her thumb. Being called a distraction draws a small grimace from the Leonid, and she drops her hand away to crumple up the wrapper of her churro. "Well... I'm sure that old grudges are sure to help distract your mother and sister. I mean, how often does a Scorpian bring home a Leonid?" Then she crosses her arms along her knees, looking out at the waves. "Just a 24 hour pass, though. We can both survive that." Hopefully.

Tavo smiles into the touch of her hand and waves many of her concerns off with the remains of his churro, "Oh, it won't be a problem with mom or Sole. They're sane. Just, if the clan decides to do anything big while we're there... that's the time to go for a hike." Drawing in a breath, he lets it out again, "Can't be worse than falling out of the sky in a flying death trap, right?"

"Oh, ye of little faith," Rothschild says in her own dooms day tone. Then she shakes her head, letting the uneasy feeling subside. Then she starts to settle backwards, sprawling out across the blanket and setting her arm across her eyes. It lets her breathe and stretch and just relax for a few precious moments. "I could make this quite worse and request a 48 hour pass to Leonis."

Tavo twists slightly as his companion settles back, then shifts around a little awkwardly, starting to turn toward her and then just lowering himself onto his own back instead. "Oh? That would be worse? I don't know, do I care what anyone there thinks?" There's something of an honest question to the throw-away. Instead of throwing his arm over his eyes, the big man shifts the back of his knuckles over to brush against Rothschild's hip.

Rothschild cannot help the sudden laughter that erupts from her, and she shakes her head. "No. It wouldn't be. I would run away to my grandfather's farm and just spend two days sleeping." She looks over at him, and a soft smile starts to build on her lips. "But certainly there would be questions about you, and my grandparents are still old enough to be, mmm, prejudice." Then she tilts her head slightly. "I'm content here."

"Because I'm a Scorpian knuckle-dragger?" Tavo doesn't sound particularly concerned about that stereotype -- even if he does have long arms. "Probably just out to despoil you as revenge for Leonis' occupation of Scorpia?" Somehow, he can sense her dark gaze, and turns his face toward hers, his left eye squeezed just and his right just cracked open, "Or out to get Leonese citizenship so I can get off this hellhole?" He snorts in amusement, "Farm, huh? Lemme guess, the Lord and Lady have a whole lot of farmhands." Which proves, of course, that he's not without his little bits of prejudice himself.

Rothschild snorts then. "Despoil. Are you suggesting that sex spoils one's loins? Am I a half-eaten apple or something?" The Leonese woman then shakes her head slightly at the possible things her grandparents may say. "They would never be quite so blunt. Subtle, and perhaps even unconscious." The question though draws a small frown from her. "You've never actually been on a farm, have you?" Her brow arches. "Even farms on Scorpia have farmhands, Tavo."

Tavo grins toothily, "I'm suggesting that old-fashioned Leonese might think that. I think it does nice things to your loins." He blushes a touch, but doesn't loose the grin, even as he chuckles at her question, "Nope. Never have. And I was trying to subtly suggest that they didn't do much work." His grin widens, "But I'm not very good at subtle." And his fingers at her hip goose lightly.

"No. You're not very good at that." Then she rolls up onto her side to face him more fully, arm tucked under her head as she does. Rothschild gives Tavo a narrowing look before she shrugs a shoulder slightly. "Before the Uprising, there was quite a lot of work for everyone. I came out for summers and did work as a child and teen. We're not completely above hardwork." She smirks then.

Tavo lets his knuckles roll up her hip as she turns, then drop away before they reach anything too risque. He grunts a little in surprise, approval, and perhaps even a little apology at her response, "Good. Probably shouldn't have made the jab then." There's a pause, "There are Leonese nobles who sit around all day and don't do any work, right? That's not just a stereotype that we created out of nothing?"

"All stereotypes are based in some kind of reality." Roths smirks. "Just like I'm sure there was a fairly brutish Scorpian who inspired the knuckle-dragging comment." Then she props up her head on her palm, elbow deep in the blanket-covered sand. "Every Colony has its stereotypes, darling. And I suppose in some ways we embrace them here and there. I'm very proud and stubborn and quite capable in being haughty when necessary." She smiles then. "But I do like your gentleness and how you can nudge me to relax and be a bit more playful."

"I know some of them, actually," Tavo agrees with her example stereotype. Her self-description draws a hint of a chuckle, although her smiling mention of his own influence draws a softer blush to his cheeks. "Nothing wrong with proud and stubborn." His smile spreads wider as he very carefully doesn't say anything about 'haughty' for a moment. "But as long as you let in the playfulness sometimes, I can handle the haughty." There's another pause, "This would be where I'd roll over and start tickling you or something if I had both hands."

"But being haughty is quite out." Dora caught the careful exclusion. Then she offers a small quirk of a smile followed by the slightest wrinkling of her nose. "Leonid are not ticklish." Then she nudges forward a couple inches so she can loom over him a moment. Her fingers brush down his jaw before she kisses him with the softest press of lips. It lasts just a heartbeat before she lifts back up and begins to sit up on the blanket once more.

Tavo shrugs his right shoulder a little helplessly at her catch, the wrinkling of her nose causing his smile to blossom even further. As she leans over him, he lifts a touch into the light kiss, then drops back again with a little hiss of pain from his shoulder. It's probably not his intention, but the hiss covers the shift of his right arm under her while she's lifted up over him, so that he can try to tickle her side as she draws back. "Bullshit." He's going to look silly if it's true.

He is at least awarded with a twisting wriggle from the Leonese woman as she swats at his hand, smothering her own laughter. She captures his hand if he does not immediately relent, settling his offending palm on her thigh. She takes in a deep breath then, shaking her head. "You need to be careful with that shoulder, Gigas. If we are lucky, you'll be out of the sling by the time we depart Scorpia."

Tavo makes another reach for her side, but desists when she grabs his hand, using her leg to help haul him vertical again. "Yeah, I know. I hate rehabbing through." The fingers of his left hand flex loosen, and he shakes his head in frustration, "But it would be good to be out of the sling when we head back out there. I felt like a piker in the last fight. Trying to get scuttlebutt about how things were going down there, feeling the ship shake, and not having a damned thing I could do."

"We all experience that," says the woman who has only the faintest scars since the start of the Uprising compared to some of her other companions. Dora offers him a wry smile. "I could give you gold stickers every time you successfully manage your rehab." There's that smoldering mischief again. "Or are you driven by different kinds of rewards?"

Nodding his agreement with her statement doesn't make Tavo like the feeling any better, "Yeah." The suggestion causes him to laugh, although it quickly turns into the big man clearing his throat as she turns up the heat behind her words, "Yeah... if they tried that in college, I think people'd get back on the court a hell of a lot faster. Not the gold stars, the other kinds of rewards."

The reaction from the Scorpian draws a faint look of approval from the Leonese woman. Then she starts to haul herself up to her feet, offering to help the man up as she settles into her soles once more. "Something for me to think about then," she teases him. Once he's on his feet, she will settle her hand into his -- just one more small step to that agreement they made.

When Rothschild rises to her feet, Tavo gathers up both churro-papers and his shoes, tucking them into his left hand, then takes the offered help up with only a little embarrassment at needing the assist. He starts to drop her hand, then blinks in surprise as she hangs on, squeezing her fingers in... thanks? Certainly in approval. "Less thinking, more doing," he teases her. "You need to go shopping for tomorrow? Civvies? Swimsuit? I can show you a couple places that won't charge tourist-prices." There's a pause, "Or at least not quite tourist prices."

"Considering the likelihood of me getting my gear back before tomorrow," Rothschild muses aloud. She nods her agreement all the same. "Yes, I'll need to do that." She offers him another light smile as she returns the squeeze. "And then perhaps I can help you with some of your rehab exercises, hm?" There isn't even a hint of mischief in that question, though she does smile a bit wider.

Tavo nods at her agreement, starting to lead them away from the boardwalk and up the beach. The offer that follows gets an immediate, "Sure," and only then does he think of he other implications, despite the conversation they just had, and his brows rise a little, he glances over at Rothschild, and then he begins to smile, "Manual dexterity is important. Lifting light weights. Testing nerve healing."

Roths starts to grin again, though she quickly sobers. "Delgado, not everything has to do with sex. Come on... to the shops and then we'll see about some time in a gym for some gentle workout, hm?" She gives his hand a squeeze before she lets him go, starting across the sand after snagging up the blanket.


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