Beach, Friday Midday
Romeo tried to spend a little time by the ocean every day to settle his brain, and he thought the current weather posed no reason to change that routine. Fandom was rarely hot for a man who grew up in Verona Beach, after all.
But by the time he got to the beach -- hair sweat-slick to his forehead and Hawaiian shirt sticking to his back -- he had to admit his plans had perhaps exceeded what was wise today. Things only got worse as he trudged down to walk along the tide line, hoping the spray of the water would provide some relief. He stepped on something slimy and looked down: There were perfect white-and-gold frying eggs on the sand, mingling with the seaweed, rocks and driftwood.
As he gaped at them, a crab crawled up and began to feast on the yolk of one of the largest eggs.
[OOC: Beach open to anyone else dumb enough to go outside today.]
But by the time he got to the beach -- hair sweat-slick to his forehead and Hawaiian shirt sticking to his back -- he had to admit his plans had perhaps exceeded what was wise today. Things only got worse as he trudged down to walk along the tide line, hoping the spray of the water would provide some relief. He stepped on something slimy and looked down: There were perfect white-and-gold frying eggs on the sand, mingling with the seaweed, rocks and driftwood.
As he gaped at them, a crab crawled up and began to feast on the yolk of one of the largest eggs.
[OOC: Beach open to anyone else dumb enough to go outside today.]