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[sunbaked_baker]

It may look strange, if one isn't expecting it.

Sunshine is lying on one of the large rocks by the lake, in the full summer sunshine, propped up on her elbows so she can read. Her jean shorts allow the sunlight to reach the length of her legs, and her tanktop leaves her shoulders and arms bare.

...The strangeness comes from the fact that her head and the book she's reading are shaded by the thick jacket draped over them, leaving her a cave of twilit dimness in which to read. It's not dark enough to free her completely from issues with shifting, wiggling, motion-sick-making type from her benighted vision. It is better, however, than the effects of trying to look past the shadows of the ink on the page in direct sunlight, and the glaring edges of those shadows, like cracks in reality around each letter.

She's very intent on her book. The Art of War, currently, with The Book of Five Rings sitting at her elbow. She's on her second read-through of both.

When she's done, she'll go.


(ooc: Last EP before Sunshine leaves for the end of her canon. Post open indefinitely. ^_^)

Comments

[killitwithfire]

Well. Look who we have here.

Axel rummages in a pocket for a piece of paper, and after a little while, a neatly cut-and-folded paper chakram hits her square in the middle of the back.

...what?

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine had been very wrapped up in her reading. That's why she jumps so much. "What the dharmic hell was that?" she says, nearly knocking her book off the rock as she startles.

Paper chakram is picked up and eyed. Somebody must've thrown it at her.

The somebody who threw it is eyed in turn.

[killitwithfire]

...Grin?

Axel waves.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine shades her eyes, and, after a moment, waves back.

"This yours?"

[killitwithfire]

"Yeah, unless you wanna keep it," Axel replies.

[reallyaduck]

Duck cranes her head and squints at the jacket-covered person.

Then she cranes her head fuuuuuuuuuuuurther down, until she's essentially twisted over double, trying to see who it might be.

She's going to lose her balance in a second.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine can see the shadow the person casts on the jacket (edged in... yellow?), so she knows someone is there.

Also, Duck isn't exactly silent.

Sunshine reaches up to lift the jacket off her head so she can see who it is.

"Duck?"

[reallyaduck]

"- hi Sunshine!" Duck says, breaking into an enormous grin, and attempts to straighten and wave at the same time, which means that for a while she's shaking her head accidentally instead before she gets herself sorted out - but at least she doesn't fall over.

"Gosh, weren't you hot under there?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Hi," she replies, smiling slightly as Duck sorts herself out.

"A bit hot, I suppose, but not too bad. No worse than the bakery in August, and it creates shade. Reading in bright light kind of messes with my eyes."

[youowemeafavor]

It certainly isn't every day that he finds himself out in the sunlight. No, most of the time he's content to stay underground, but that doesn't stop him from the occasional foray to places far or wide or both. The end of the universe most definitely qualifies.

Crouching, the hem of his frockcoat caressing the grass, head resting on his fists, he watches the sight by the lake. In his experience, one either prefers the light or the dark on a great many levels. This both-at-once business is a curiosity to him, and one he's loathe to disturb.

[sunbaked_baker]

Along her legs and arms and in her hair, glimmer pin-pricks of golden sunlight, like a web or net or lattice of light set directly into her skin. Her head, though, is shaded as completely as a denim jacket can make it.

She's been here all day, practically. Soaking in the sun, while studying for something that is worlds away from the circle of her experiences.

[youowemeafavor]

Since it appears that the lady in question (and the person to whom the legs belong is undeniably female) doesn't appear to be moving, he settles in for the long haul: legs crossed, hands busying themselves fussing with a selection of long grasses, which he's deftly braiding for no reason other than the fact he can. When he's done he'll make it into a form of jewelry; it will be worth something at the Floating Market.

Not everyone from London Below is at liberty to visit this place, or even to step Above. He, of course, arrived from the Topside many many many years ago and still comes and goes as he pleases.

In no time at all, the grass braid is the length of his hand and still growing.

[sunbaked_baker]

Reading something that you will be putting into immediate use only makes you think about the situation in which you'll be using it.

Sunshine can only take so much of that before she needs a break. The jacket is removed, her eyes adjusting (or trying to adjust) as much as they can as she closes the book and moves to stretch. Lying like that gives you a crick in the neck all too soon.

[licensed-pro.livejournal.com]

Normally, Charlie wouldn't interrupt someone reading. (If he could see that's indeed what she was doing.)

Normally, of late, Charlie wouldn't be here. There's just...a couple twitchy memories involving this place, like large men gnawing on severed hands, being shot, and the still painful memory of having to deal with his lover not knowing who he was.

But today has been a good day, and so he's a little more open and friendly. "I'm pretty sure the bar would give you sunglasses if you needed them."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine startles.

"Oh!" And now there is the removal of the jacket, and the revelation of the book. And the person under the jacket.

"Um. Right. I don't think they'll help, in this case."

[licensed-pro.livejournal.com]

Charlie doesn't start. It's been his experience that staying calm at least in facade gives you less hassle. "Oh?"

He'd looked at the person under the jacket, or what of her he could see, and didn't ignore the view--he was still breathing, even if he was currently taken--but cocked his head to read the book title.

Well, then.

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae moves to sit up. "I just can focus on the words better in the dark, is all."

It's not all.

"It's nothing to do with my eyes at all, not really, but sight is the easiest way to explain it."

[scots_wolf]

"Are you Sunshine?" somebody asks the strange thing on the ground. Its hind end is a young woman, but its front end is wrapped in dark cloth, very strangely.

But Urquhart thinks he does know the hind end.

[sunbaked_baker]

A hand lifts the jacket that's shading her book and eyes.

"Urquhart?"

[scots_wolf]

"It is you," Urquhart says, sitting down on the next rock, smiling at her.

"I made your muffins a few times already. They were a success."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'm glad," she says, moving to sit up. She lets The Art of War fall shut.

"You picked baking up pretty quickly, which is good." It does help to have a teacher who knows what it's like, just starting out. "My first attempts at cinnamon rolls were like bricks - I know they couldn't technically be heavier than the ingredients that went into them, but somehow they managed it. I swear Charlie used them as parts of the foundation when he built the addition to his and Mom's house."

[death_gone_mad]

The rabbits, despite her terrible experience meeting them (and it should have been a terrifying experience for them), were not going to keep her indoors. Not when the sky was shining so brightly. And when one lives in the desert as long as she has, one develops a craving for at least occasional sunlight and blue, cloudless skies.

She is exploring the outdoors, looking for landmarks other patrons have mentioned, when she came across the woman on the lake shore, lounging like the great lizards do in the morning sun.

This is not unusual. What is unusual is the light and heat coming off the woman's skin. It is not as strong, but it is that of a Sun, not of a human who has been lying in the sun.

It is not the light of Milliway's sun, nor is it the light of her father. Perhaps, a brother, or some distant relative. It feels like love, it feels like memories.

On a nearby rock, ███████ sits, hugging her knees to he chest. She is hesitant. Shall she disturb the strange woman, or should she just enjoy the double dose of sunshine?

[sunbaked_baker]

Some people lie out in the sun to metaphorically soak up some rays.

With Rae, it is more literal. It goes in, somewhere. Topping off some invisible inner container - or perhaps her body is the container itself.

Her head is covered, however much skin she is exposing to the sunlight that warms her. Her book and eyes are as heavily shaded as the rest of her (apart from that covered by clothes) is exposed to the sun, glimmering faintly.

She only moves, removing the jacket covering her head and book, when she finishes the book. Again. While the gist of the book is pretty easy to grasp, on the surface, she feels as though she might as well be reading about thermonuclear dynamics. The Art of War, indeed.

[death_gone_mad]

Well, sometimes when one doesn't make a decision, it gets made by someone else.

"Hello," She says, almost shyly. "You like the sun?"

Ah, she was reading. It is not unusual to read in the shade. The sun's glare is counterproductive to reading, but so is total darkness. Maybe, in this case, it is unusual.

She is wearing a plain, brown dress, has deeply tanned skin, and unnaturally red irises and red, very short hair. She is wearing a necklace, but most of it is not visible due to the way she is hugging her knees.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine looks over at her when she hears the greeting. The first thing she notices is the very red hair the girl has. The second, her red eyes. Red-eyed boy (or girl) is a derogatory remark in her world - a direct accusation of being a demonic part-blood.

With that echoing in her head, she notices the shadows that fall on the girl's face, the strangely textured quality to them, the too-bright red edges to them, glaring like cracks in reality itself.

Sunshine blinks, trying not to stare. Part-bloods can't help what their blood has in it. "Hi."

"Yeah, I do. What about you?"