Post by Hobro on Dec 22, 2020 18:42:10 GMT -5
Shell Island - East Blue
07:37 - Market Square
The wind picked up, coursing its way through a town just easing itself to life. There was a barely perceptible hum of activity that centered itself around the area. A buzz of movement from the occasional early riser eager to see those minor tasks for the day settled. A flutter of sound, crinkling paper, a wanted poster drifted past across the ground, clinging to a light post as the bulb inside began to dim as if in deference to the rising sun. A jaunty tune crackled out of an unseen source, sending an invisible current through the space, lives being lived. A quiet morning broke out into the roar of movement that came with each morning.
Just a step away from the growing hustle, in a small Cafe just off the main road, a quiet group enjoyed a cozy breakfast. White marine uniforms were clean pressed and fit for each frame. Four men sat at various points, talking to one another while one woman sat in silence. Pale chin resting on her palm. Hair like starlight pulled back into a clean bun. She absently tugged on the blue ribbon at her lapel. Every now and then her eerie, unblinking eyes would swivel in her head. They clicked once before settling on some unknown subject. She still hadn't touched her tea. A few of her peers, having joined her on shore leave, exchanged looks while quietly wondering at what had her so transfixed. They knew her eyes were special. Perhaps she saw something important?
Eventually two worked up the nerve to ask their friend, sauntering over and leaning in to speak in a low voice.
"Isabella? Hey, uh... whatcha looking at?" One asked.
"Problems?" Another murmured, staring out into the crowd.
The pale beauty said nothing for a moment, only stopping to turn her attention in another direction. Finally, though, she leaned back and said with mute satisfaction: "Ninety-nine, Fifty-Nine, Eighty-nine..." She murmured.
They looked at one another. What on earth was she...?
"Bust. Waist. Hi-"
BONK!
The two men struck their pretty companion Square on the noggin, their faces flush with barely restrained frustration. One stepped back and brandished a fist while Isabella cradeled her noggin with a look somewhere between pouting and indignation on her face.
"What was that for?!"
"The commander told you not to use those to ogle!"
"Ogle other Marines!" She shot back. She wasn't wrong of course, they were just jealous and looking for a good enough reason to banter with their friend.
The other two hopped into the argument with eager gusto and before long they noisily joined into the chorus that was a Shell Island morning, smiling all the while.
07:37 - Market Square
The wind picked up, coursing its way through a town just easing itself to life. There was a barely perceptible hum of activity that centered itself around the area. A buzz of movement from the occasional early riser eager to see those minor tasks for the day settled. A flutter of sound, crinkling paper, a wanted poster drifted past across the ground, clinging to a light post as the bulb inside began to dim as if in deference to the rising sun. A jaunty tune crackled out of an unseen source, sending an invisible current through the space, lives being lived. A quiet morning broke out into the roar of movement that came with each morning.
Just a step away from the growing hustle, in a small Cafe just off the main road, a quiet group enjoyed a cozy breakfast. White marine uniforms were clean pressed and fit for each frame. Four men sat at various points, talking to one another while one woman sat in silence. Pale chin resting on her palm. Hair like starlight pulled back into a clean bun. She absently tugged on the blue ribbon at her lapel. Every now and then her eerie, unblinking eyes would swivel in her head. They clicked once before settling on some unknown subject. She still hadn't touched her tea. A few of her peers, having joined her on shore leave, exchanged looks while quietly wondering at what had her so transfixed. They knew her eyes were special. Perhaps she saw something important?
Eventually two worked up the nerve to ask their friend, sauntering over and leaning in to speak in a low voice.
"Isabella? Hey, uh... whatcha looking at?" One asked.
"Problems?" Another murmured, staring out into the crowd.
The pale beauty said nothing for a moment, only stopping to turn her attention in another direction. Finally, though, she leaned back and said with mute satisfaction: "Ninety-nine, Fifty-Nine, Eighty-nine..." She murmured.
They looked at one another. What on earth was she...?
"Bust. Waist. Hi-"
BONK!
The two men struck their pretty companion Square on the noggin, their faces flush with barely restrained frustration. One stepped back and brandished a fist while Isabella cradeled her noggin with a look somewhere between pouting and indignation on her face.
"What was that for?!"
"The commander told you not to use those to ogle!"
"Ogle other Marines!" She shot back. She wasn't wrong of course, they were just jealous and looking for a good enough reason to banter with their friend.
The other two hopped into the argument with eager gusto and before long they noisily joined into the chorus that was a Shell Island morning, smiling all the while.