Sidestory:
SPF 9000
By Angie, Colin, Demon Lethe, Jenny~Pie, Sky
A cloudless blue-sky summer's day was always meant to be enjoyed. People fled to the beach, the woods, and amusement parks in droves, following an instinct to bask in the sun and mingle with their fellow humans. The return of the hot days seemed to suddenly reinforce everyone's need for socialization.
Well, almost everyone's. Rayya Veritas was currently curled on a towel, staring down at an unopened can of Coke. "'Reese, I don't really want to be here," she murmured softly. Her violet eyes turned up to her friend as she set the can down and straightened up, absently adjusting the strap on her lime green bikini top. "I'm not very good company at the moment."
Theresa slid her shades marginally down her nose to eye the chestnut-haired beauty with a mixture of skepticism and sympathy. She sat with her ankles crossed and her arms straight out behind, bracing herself upright. "Doll," she said, "you're never, even in your absolute worst moments, anything less than good company. And it's just too much responsibility to always know what's good for yourself. That's where I come in." She grinned. "Sun, sand, surf, a little self-indulgence, and boom, we may have a slightly relaxed Rayya."
She gestured at the sweep of shoreline in front of them, where several kids were trying unsuccessfully to make a sand castle. "Look at that. Not a pig or a bat anywhere. And no funny costumes, unless of course you wanna count the guy over there in the Speedos."
"Well, that's -always- a funny sight but..." Rayya's gaze obediently swung towards the indicated man and widened slightly. "Uh, 'Reese?" she whispered. "What's Gwyn going to do to that poor man?"
Theresa glanced again, then sat straight up. "My God," she said in awe. "Well, they don't call it 'butt-floss' for nothing, huh?"
Down near the shore line, Gwyn, dressed in a pink bikini and beautifully matching sunset pattern sarong, continued to rant and rave at the fallen dude in the Speedos. A few curses drifted Theresa and Rayya's way, and one could only imagine the actual volume that Gwyn was inflicting on this man. Apparently Gwyn had something to disapprove of in his way of getting a ladies attention. Glaring at him maliciously for a moment, watching as he wriggled in the shallow water and warbled in pain, she decided her work was done and began to head back to her friends with a sunny smile.
"What's up kids?" She said as she reached them, readjusting her sunglasses and flopping on one of the blankets.
Rayya smiled faintly, leaning back on braced arms. "We were just admiring your person-to-person skills, hon. Oh, and Theresa was working on my shriveled little ego." The smile widened a bit, becoming genuine and warm. "So now it's your turn for that."
"Oh? We're going to a strip-bar then?" Gwyn said, raising an eyebrow innocently.
With a smirk, Theresa said, "I guess it depends on who's getting the money stuffed down their g-string. Who wants to go in the water? I need to get some color on this freakishly pale body." She stood up, brushing a little sand off her knees, and surveyed the surrounding beach. There were a couple of figures further down the beach, almost
too far for her to make them out, and she didn't like the look of them, for some odd reason. *Paranoid*, she decided.
Obediently, Rayya bounced to her feet and stretched. Gazing out at the water, she nodded. "Sure. The lake sounds lovely." She paused and her gaze skittered along the shoreline again, solemn-eyed as if remembering something important but painful. Then she blinked and turned to Gwyn with another faint smile. "Comin', Gwynny?
"Yay," the blonde sarcastically chimed. "I get to go in the big, icky pond now!" She reached up and grasped Rayya's hand for a tug upwards, brushing off the sand off her bottom as she stood. "Wasn't what I was really thinking of when I said we should go out and drown our sorrows..." She groused, hurrying after the other two.
Elsewhere upon the beach, Carrick Luxington was delicately stepping over what could only be referred to as a sand palatial estate. The structure, rather ornate in its distinctly gaudy Rococo/Art Deco clash-style. This was no ordinary sand castle with a standard moat and couple of towers, no, this had courtyards, and sand-molded shrubbery. Wiping some sweat from his brow, Rick surveyed the surrounding coastline's offerings of flesh. Unsatisfied with what he found, he sauntered back to his towel and copy of The Canterbury Tales for another attempt at making his pasty white-skin tan.
Rick opened the book and leaned back slightly, to block the sun's rays from entering his eyes directly. As if by some demonic omen, a blast of sand heaved over his head and onto his chest.
"I'm so incredibly sorry!" shouted an approaching voice; it was feminine, thus no true concern of his. The girl now stood slightly over him, "I really am sor-," she hesitated, then continued. "Hey Rick! I didn't know you ever came here," stated girl, who noticed his pasty complexion. After simple thought, the voice was soon recognized as his long-time acquaintance Rhiannon Austen. "I really am sorry. I had no idea I'd slide like that!" Rhia mentioned, gazing over at the disheveled sand at a nearby volleyball net.
After getting the sand out of his mouth, Rick rose to greet the awkward young woman. "Oh, hello Rhia; I don't make a point to drag myself to this hole of a beach, but when one is as pasty-white as I, something simply must be done, you know. How are you doing?"
Rick glanced over at Rhiannon's piece of meat and nodded in approval. He picked up his book to show to her, "Oh, just The Canterbury Tales; nothing like Chaucer, the Pardoner, a crappy-ass lake, sand castles, and the promise of a tan to brighten the day.
I'm currently hacking through The Miller's Tale. Have you heard of it?"
"Isn't that the one with the rooster who had gas?" Rhia charming inquired.
"That's a completely different tale," Rick said with a half-tone of condescendence, "this one is about kissing one's lower eye. It's good stuff." He paused and started rummaging through his bag, "I've got pictures from the parade on me. Would you like to see them?"
"Uhmm... That's okay...," Rhiannon heeded. "Oh, wait! Do you mean Mardi Gras? Lemme see!" Rick broke out the photos and Rhia immediately started laughing, "Any good ones of Theodore?" She chuckled, then saw a strange one of the parade from afar. "Loan your camera?" Rhiannon didn't take anything into consideration and moved on through the pictures.
Rick took a moment to remember if he had loaned his camera out or not. "I'm pretty sure I took those distance shots myself, Rhia. Why do you ask?"
Gwyn concentrated on keeping her eyes shut beneath the cool waters of the lake. A few bubbles escaped her nose now and then, but she was sure it would all be over soon.
That was when she felt a fist cut through the lake's surface and bonk her on the head.
More than a little annoyed, she jumped to the surface and ungratefully breathed. She returned Theresa's disapproving, you're-not-being-very-cool-glare, with her own what's-with-you-and-the-anti-suicidal-sentiment look.
"What a beautiful day!" Theresa said in a cheery voice that completely negated the glare. It was actually rather disconcerting. "Damn if I'm not cooled off and feeling refreshed. Let's go crash that volleyball game and *make new friends*!" And I can see what bugs me about the folks over there, she thought.
"Hmm?" Rayya looked up from the water, letting her hair fall back to her waist, the ends immediately absorbing the lake water and darkening. "Volleyball?" she asked. Then she blinked and followed Theresa's gaze. A faint smile appeared on her face. "I'll be
cheerleader," she offered. "I'm not built for jumping around in this suit."
"I can think of someone who'd beg to differ," Theresa muttered so only Gwyn could hear. Aloud, she said, "Hot damn. Let's go kick the ass of a few showoff beach-boys." She grabbed Rayya's hand and gently pulled her along, glancing at the guy in the beach chair to their left and the girl standing near him. Strange, those two. Hopefully they wouldn't be...aw, shit. The girl was headed back for the volleyball game. A closer look would have to do, even if trouble was the absolute last thing they wanted today. Rayya just didn't need it.
Gwyn distractedly followed Theresa's gaze left a bit, almost picking up the bad vibe, but a volleyball flying through her peripheral vision brought her attention back to the game. "Rayya," Gwyn admonished, "if you're not in we don't have enough to join!"
Seeing Rayya was only half thinking of being convinced, she continued.
"It's this or hours of margaritas and karaoke." She threatened smartly.
A sudden chuckle erupted from Rayya and she shrugged. "But, Gwynny, hon, I -like- karaoke and margaritas." Noticing the darkening look on her friends' faces, she nodded obediently, ducking in a slight bow. "But volleyball is on the menu and so, sure, I'll join for you guys." Walking ahead quickly, she flagged down a tall girl with rich red-brown hair. "Can my friends and I join?"
Rhia turned her head back to the courts. "Oh yeah! That's fine!" she cheerfully shouted back, grumbling in an undertone. -Damn Girls! They better not steal the good one!- Rhia looked back over to her friend. "C'mon boyo! You're playing on MY team!" she grabbed Rick's arm and pulled him upward, then continued to drag him toward the court. "Which team are you ladies dividing into?" Rhiannon counted with her fingers the three guys playing, herself, and Rick. "Four on each?" Rhia then grabbed the guy she had been eyeing's arm and held both of her men close as she gradually stepped onto the more level side of the net... the one -without- the hole she had scooped.
Rick shrugged his shoulders and assumed the position. "If I must," he muttered.
The blonde girl on the right raised her chin smugly and winked at the remaining boy. "Guess you're on our team cutie." The tanned, sandy haired blonde smiled, dipping under the net to their side. "I'm Gwyn, and declaring myself captain." She said with no small amount of aplomb and confidence.
"Rhiannon," the tall brunette stated, letting herself loose of Rick and Kevin, the boy she had previously fawned over. "I'll be captain, as well." Rhia spotted the volleyball at her feet and kicked it up gently into her hands. "I suppose we'll use this one," she said, hoping that small display of coordination might make the others think of her as an equal.
The short brunette smiled at the other girl. "Your call, hon." Carefully, she looked down at her feet, repositioning them for more stability in the loose sand. She also took a brief instant to wish that she had worn a more substantial bathing suit. Then she looked back up with another faint smile. "And I'm Rayya."
Gwyn took up the right front, the boy taking her left. Theresa stretched in the back row behind him, Rayya stayed off to the side for a moment, till Gwyn threw her a look, then quickly took up the empty spot. Gwyn turned back to the girl on the other team.
"Well, you can go first kid. We only have one rule, " She tossed her hair over her shoulders and swept it into a high ponytail, giving her a condescending smirk.
"No crying. Okay?"
Okay, now all thoughts of sharing equality with this one had left her. It was competition from here on... at least with Gwyn. "Me, Madam? Surely it's the heat talking."
"Ladies, ladies," Kevin intruded. "Let's just play some ball."
Rhia smiled charmingly then faced the other team again. "1 serving 0," she shouted, as if she really knew what it meant. Rhiannon raised the ball high into the air with her left hand and swept her right fist beneath it, knocking the ball high into the air. The ball was safely above them, and Rhia could only hope for justice to be on her side.
"HEADS UP!" Kevin shouted, shoving Rhiannon out of the way as to not be hit by the volleyball. "Hey guys, do we count that as your point, or just give the lady a redo?"
The fellow on the opposing team, named Chad, yelled back to give her a redo.
Rhia stepped back into place, but, instead of retrying, she tossed the ball to Rick and shouted, "Here ya go! I'll fumble again, and I know it!"
Rick half-caught the ball and shot a glance to Rhiannon saying something along the lines of, "What makes you think I'll do any better?" He took Rhiannon's spot as server and yelled the standard, "One serving zero," and delivered the ball across the net
with an underhand serve.
This time, the ball took a surprisingly speedy course over the net. Gwyn looked shocked for a millisecond, expecting that the boy was more likely to punch himself in the face than hit it over. A second of open mouth gawking almost cost her team a point, but with years of seasoned beach volleyball reflexes she dove head first into the sand, just getting a fist under the ball. With a heavy 'plonk', it popped up and back towards Theresa and Rayya.
With a surprised squeak, Rayya obediently moved for the rogue ball. She managed to get under it just in time and blindly jabbed upwards with a fist, hoping against hope that she was hitting it in the right direction.
Gwyn cheered proudly, and got back up with a jump as she saw Rayya dive. She watched the ball pitch off of her friend's front knuckle, with the added force of her jab. and speed back towards the net.
Which was where it loudly and squarely connected with Gwyn's face.
The ball stayed for a moment, her body precariously holding the position of impact until it rolled off her head.
"Good try, Ray." The blonde mumbled, falling slowly over.
Theresa tried not to laugh too hard as she held a hand out to help Gwyn back on her feet. "Sorry, kid," she said. "If I'd've been quicker, you wouldn't have had to sacrifice yourself."
"Oh, come now. It would have been a great hit either way," Rhiannon smirked. "Y'know what could've made it better? If it were executed in succession." Rhia only meant to display friendly competition, but Gwyn suspected otherwise.
The blonde snapped her head around like any God-fearing New Yorker knows how. "You better calm that mouth of yours girl, or you're gonna find a volleyball shoved down you're throat."
Rhiannon glared widely. "Are you dysfunctional!? It was only a joking remark!"
"Are you calling me dys-FUNCTION-al?" Gwyn breathed in. "Do you know what -your- function is? -Your- function is to KISS my SWEET IRISH ASS."
"You have GOT to be kidding." Rhiannon sighed. "I don't know where that's been..."
"Oh, that's it bitch," Gwyn growled and instinctively chucked the ball at the younger girl's head.
Rhiannon strode to deny the ball a direct hit, but failed. Her face stung a bit and added a flush of pink immediately in an odd oblong smear from the impact. "Oh, whore, you are so over." Rhia glared at Gwyn and then rapidly charged for the irritating blonde.
Rayya and Theresa both moved towards Gwyn, knowing not to gang up on her or get to close when she had obviously lost her temper. Gwyn ignored them, foot poised in the sand as the Rhia came at her.
As expected, Kevin and Omar, the last member on Rhia's team, grabbed her gently and lifted her up, as to stop her from running. However, that did not stop her from kicking a shoe at Gwyn's head.
"Dead girl!" Gwyn gasped after ducking the airborne sandal, suddenly pointing at Rhia and running under the net. "Frigging dead girl!!!!"
Chad ran up to Gwyn and tried to hold her, but Gwyn shoved him off. Doing the only thing he could think of, Chad grabbed hold of the net and threw it at Gwyn.
The vexed Irish girl stumbled into the net becoming loosely tangled in it. Luckily for Chad, she hadn't seen it was his fault. One of her arms was lifted pitifully through one of the loops in the net, stuck. This immediately brought back bad memories of mailboxes, upping Gwyn's rage incredibly. With an angry hiss she kicked her foot in the sand, sending the particles flying at the opposing team.
'Agh! Sand!' the group jointly shouted, turning to avoid the blast. "Gwyn must have huge ass feet to do that!" Omar exclaimed.
Chad grabbed the net and reeled Gwyn back toward him.
Kevin joined in, still holding Rhia by the arm, "If you two ladies are going to continue this, we might as well call the game quits now and leave."
Gwyn scowled, glaring across the net. She was caught in a stubborn hateful mood, and wasn't really sure why. Maybe it had just been a bad week so far, but she didn't think so.
"Just give me the ball again," she responded curtly. Chad's eyes widened at the dare and gave Kevin a look that pointedly said, DO NOT GIVE HER THE BALL.
"Gwyn, hon, just breathe." Rayya frowned at her friend and then shared the frown with the other girl, Rhia. "It's not worth it and, look, dammit, hon, the lifeguard's gone wise. Here he comes."
Gwyn glanced over her shoulder at the approaching lifeguard. She turned her head back with a low growl. After a moment of closing her eyes, she settled. "Okay I could consider letting this whole thing go... " She opened her eyes again and looked up at Rhia. "... If -she- apologizes."
"Who me? I'm not the crazy one... this time. I'll be eating sand before I'd even consider apologizing to -that- thing," Rhiannon ranted.
"Sand it is then," Gwyn exclaimed happily, cracking her knuckles. "Theresa, do me a favor and confuse that lifeguard with some of that horrible lawyer talking you do. Amazon girl goes smash now."
Theresa widened her eyes and briefly considered a foray into diplomacy. But really, no one needed the lifeguard in the middle of things. So she pointed at Rhia and said, "You. Gwyn's not a thing. Play well with others. And you..." she pointed at Gwyn. "No smash. Down Irish terror, down!" Then she spun on her heel in the sand and headed for the lifeguard at a quick trot, laughing as if they were all sharing the funniest joke in the world. "Hey!" she shouted at him. "We just made up the coolest game! It's called 'Street Theatre At The Beach'!"
Rhia forgot the argument briefly and talked to Gwyn more calmly, "She doesn't expect us to quote Shakespeare, does she?"
Kevin broke the ice, "I could always go for a good song and dance myself."
Omar and Chad glared at Kevin.
"What? Did I say something wrong?" he added.
"I don't think so, hon," Rayya cut in sweetly, eyes sparing a warm glance at Kevin before returning intently to Gwyn. "I'll join you if you know Scarborough Fair."
"Wow," Gwyn said to them, in an un-amused, bitchy manor. "Can I just request a nuclear bomb to hit this spot right now? I'd rather be decimated."
Theresa met the lifeguard halfway, grinning fit to kill. "Did you see that? Was that crazy, or what?"
The lifeguard, a tall bleach blonde with the prerequisite Baywatch physique and stripe of lotion across his strangely dented nose, scowled at her. "Yeah," he said. "And it wasn't no street theater game. Keep your friends friendly, or you can all go on somewhere else."
Theresa placed her hands on her hips, looking the lifeguard up and down with false injury. "Section 2 of Virginia state code BC152 explicitly states that public beaches are open to all activities that do not include consumption of alcoholic beverages, flagrant sexual contact, corruption of a minor or perpetration of any misdemeanor or felony act including, but not limited to, assault and battery. In what court of law would you like to testify that you witnessed, beyond all doubt, a violation of any type? How much will your bosses need to fork over for lawyers? Isn't this beach run by the county? Are they going to love you for harassing the God-loving and scantily clad citizenry of this fair city?"
He looked at her for a moment. Then he shook his head and walked away.
"Suck on that, David Hasselhoff!" she said, then ran back to the game. "Problem solved. Are we gonna play, or do I have to go make that M.C. Escher sand castle I was thinking about?"
"Well done. Very impressive!" Rhia gawked, prodding the air and trying to remember everything that Theresa said. "Amazing."
"I agree," Chad remarked, eyeing Theresa a bit, before shyly wincing.
Rick's ears pricked up at the mention of David Hasselhoff and elicited a, "David Hasselhoff?! Where, what?" followed by frantic scans across the shoreline. After regaining touch with the world around him he followed Theresa to the court.
After wiggling her eyebrows at Chad over the tops of her shades, Theresa said to Rick, "Sorry, bud, every word was grade-A bullshit. Does anyone remember what the score was?"
After his rosy cheeks of embarrassment subsided, Rick gave a clueless shrug.
Gwyn scanned the group grumpily. "I think I'd rather leave. Not only because there's a such rampant outbreak of losers on the opposing team that I'm afraid its contagious, but also because I'm thirsty." She began to walk away without any goodbyes to the other team. "Let's go do the karaoke margarita thing."
Sighing, Rayya waved slightly at the others and began walking backwards after Gwyn. "Sorry 'bout this," she murmured. "Take care, huh?" Then she spun on her heel and chased after her friend.
Rhiannon mumbled her response casually and made a face that only God could love toward Gwyn. "Maybe we should do this again some time," she jested, hoping it might liven up the goodbye.
Theresa was still standing there, staring. Something hadn't been right since they'd started the game, something that had nothing to do with attitudes. "Yeah, maybe," she muttered, then took off after Rayya and Gwyn.
Chad walked over and shouted back excitedly, "Bye Gwyn!" then turned back to Kevin and honestly remarked, "Dude, she's hot."
"Are you blind or just mental?" Kevin responded.
"A bit of both, I'd imagine," Omar threw back. He then turned back to Rhiannon and Rick, "I suppose we could finish the game... or maybe we should all go our separate ways and pray that they never cross again?"
"I'm game for either," Rhiannon sighed, still gazing at the size of Kevin's... arms. "What do -you- want to do, Rick?"
"I blatantly don't care either way, Rhia, but I feel that The Prioress's Tale could use my attention," he said glancing back at his chair and sand castle, reconfirming that they still existed.
Rhia paid notice and turned back to the guys, "On that note, I think we should all go our separate ways." She sighed. "Sorry we didn't finish... maybe some day." She waved at the boys who were already planning to desert them anyhow.
"Perhaps," Kevin said softly, looking up.
"Dude, you are -so- confusing me today," Chad said, walking up the sand. "Bye Rhiannon! Bye Rick!" He grabbed Kevin by the arm and they continued on their way.
"Well, that was fun," Rhia glared, staring at the several holes in the sand around her. "Everything's over. You can go back to your book now, Rick. I won't keep you any longer," she said, strolling off slowly.
Rick waved the guys off and said to Rhia, "C'mon. We'll go get our stuff and I'll give you a ride in the roadster and go hit up my dad for coffee. Don't look so glum, toots; they weren't your type."
"They never are," Rhia said, slowly regaining a smile, and walking over to where she had laid her towel. "If only you were straight... I swear." She giggled and bent over to pick up her towel. She then grabbed his faded blue one, as he grabbed the chair, and the two of them slowly headed up to the main street.