It was a beautiful day on the beach, and people were spending it enjoying it however way they could. It was the right amount of sun and right amount of breeze to make it as close to perfect as mother nature would allow. It brought out all the types, including ones that found themselves a little bit too busy most times to enjoy it, which was the case for one Dr. Lilly Becker, soon to be known much more widely as Doctor Fabulous. And Fabulous is what she went for today. Spoiler
Dressed in just a simple white bikini, shades on her face, and a hat upon her head, Lilly felt more than ready for her beach day. Of course, she already applied her tanning oil, set up her umbrella, and had just gotten her lawn chair set up at the perfect angle to catch the rays comfortably. With a satisfied smile at her sunny fortress set up, the psychiatrist laid her towel on top of the chair and made sure to tuck in the towel to ensure no wrinkles. The blonde then set out her secondary towel, in case she needed to wipe off sand or clean herself off, then opened up her cooler containing her lunch, snacks, and most importantly, her thermos of her margarita mix. She let out a soft coo as she unscrewed the lid of her thermos and then reached into her back to take out a bundled up glass with which she could pour her margarita in.
And after all of this strenuous set up and making for a perfect day, Doctor Fabulous was ready to spend her day at the beach fabulously. She laid down on her chair and took a sip of her margarita and sighed in an almost dreamy tone. "Perfect..." she said softly, holding a drink in her hand as she smiled at the flowing waved ahead of her.
Last edited by Dubski on Sat Oct 27, 2018 2:45 am, edited 1 time in total.
Things are just too perfect for the academic achiever. She found peace. She found tranquility. She has a margarita. What more could she possibly need on this bright and sunny day?
Why, an interruption, of course.
Blaise isn't clumsy. Despite his refusal to accept the demoralization from constant losses, he isn't stupid. But what he is is perhaps unfortunate. ..Or fortunate? It might depend on who one asks in this particular instance. The young athlete is tracking a high-arcing volleyball, bare feet kicking up plumes of sand in his wake.
"I got it! I goooot it!"
A shock of pain suddenly shoots through his shins as they collide against the metallic bracing of a lawn chair. He up-ends, hips landing across Lilly's legs with his feet in the air, his upper-half planted embarrassingly in the sand beside her. His feet thrash about for a second before he forces himself into a topple, sputtering out sand and pawing it off of his face and dusting his royal blue swimtrunks. He rises to his feet with a visible cringe, the reality of his situation already catching up with him. "Not again..."
Finally, he turns to face his victim. His sleekly-toned body is fortunately mostly-free of debris by this point, but his skin is coated in a light sheen of sweat. He's been playing for quite some time today. Spoiler
Clearly Lilly had made a mistake. By the time that she noticed there was a man careening towards her rather carelessly, she could only react in one way to not make this a total bust of a situation. She thrust her drink high in the air with a surprised gasp, one drop of the contents almost slipping out of the glass, thus rescuing it from the collision. Doctor Fabulous let out a sigh of relief as the man on top of her legs was struggling to break free of his situation and she took a moment to cover her mouth with her free hand and let out a giggle. She canted her head at him slightly and then lowered her sunglasses further on her nose to look at him as he apologized to her. She smiled, seemingly rather amused by the situation than any sort of upset at the guy.
"Oh, no... it's fine," said the blond woman, lowering her glass and gesturing to it with her free hand. "Really, it is." She then casually took a sip of her margarita before reaching to her side for her back up towel and held it out to her intruder. "You can use this to clean yourself off. I have a spare." She then rolled her eyes over to the side and shrugged. "Two spares, actually. But you should also watch where you're going. You could really hurt yourself." She said the words not in a scolding manner or a superior manner, but rather in a tone to denote she actually cared about his well-being. She had been quite practiced on maintaining proper tones, especially when she could tell he seemed slightly embarrassed to begin with.
The tone she takes with him is immediately appreciated, and Blaise exhales a gentle sigh of relief. He takes the offered towel with a small smile and begins rubbing it against his skin. As he does so, his bright blue gaze travels over the blonde's figure on display. She's older than him, but not overtly. Most importantly, dang. Great body, pretty smile, nice attitude. Did he trip over the most attractive girl on the beach today or what?
"Great, crisis averted!," Blaise says quickly with a start, attempting to change mental tracks. "But you don't gotta worry about me. Trained fighter." He shoots her a wink. "Professional wrestler. I can handle taking a fall over a beach angel- girl. Beach girl."
He blinks once.
"Name's Blaise!," he blurts. Smooth, he ain't.
"Hey, dork!," comes a shout from a particularly swole fellow further down the beach. "You gettin' the ball or what!?"
Blaise startles again to hurry to the volleyball, which finally landed in a small crater in the sand. Rather than rush it back to the game, he winds up and lobs it. "I'm taking a minute!," he shouts back.
Doc Fabulous smiled at the young man. He seemed nice enough. But he probably should have stopped talking sooner. Because the moment he started bragging about being a fighter, her brows furrowed in a mix of curiosity and confusion. And when Blaise called her a beach angel, it turned to outright amusement, though not in any sort of mocking way. She instead took another drink of her margarita and then set it down carefully beside her and took off her sunglasses, sticking them onto her bikini for lack of better place to put it. She didn't speak immediately, instead taking it in and analyzing him a bit. Even when he introduced himself in a rather clumsy manner, Lilly hesitated. This hesitation allowed him to get berated by another man across the beach, presumably one of the men Blaise was playing with.
Adjusting her position in the chair to better face Blaise, the Doctor pursed her lips and tapped her chin a few times, mulling over her options in a response as he remained distracted. So many questions. So much to take in. So much to know about this curious fellow in front of her. She could ask him about many of the things he just said to her, the bravado, the stumbling babble, but no. She extended her hand and said, "Lilly. It's a pleasure." Then she put a finger in front of her lips with her other hand, wanting to restrain herself, but she simply couldn't, despite him seeming like he may need to get back to his game.
Doctor Fabulous followed up with a friendly smile and asked, "You said you're a fighter?" It was a simple question. Just a light prod to get a better handle on the boy who happened upon her. She could tell he was a fighter. His physique showed the specific sort of training necessary to be in a combat sport. And frankly, she didn't much care about his actual career. She just wanted to see what would come of this so she could try to know him in her own overly analytic way.
Her feminine hand is offered, and Blaise quickly - but gently - takes it. Not for a brutish shake, but for a brief, acknowledging hold. It's then released, and he offers back the towel she lent him. He's good now. Speck-free!
"'Course. I'd be a shoddy wrestler if I couldn't fight!," Blaise explains easily. "You familiar with pro wrestling? I could show you a few things." There's a subconscious dip of his eyes over her alluring figure at the prospect of demonstrating some things with her, but he's quick to snap his gaze back to her face. "And, hey, Lilly - it's a pleasure. Pretty name!"
He clearly suspects nothing from her, and is taking everything at face value. And to be fair, he's quite distracted by Lilly's looks to do any analyzing of his own on the situation, her tone, or her questions!
It was refreshing to know he had sense to have some restraint. A polite handshake was always a good sign. She took the towel back and set it aside as she listened to him boast. That's the personality he is. It had answered everything for her. He wasn't humble by any stretch, but she wasn't a lot of times either. And his braggadocios attitude certainly made him seem as though he's compensating for something with his career. Still, Lilly Becker maintained an even smile at the young man, even as he less-than-subtly checked her out. His intentions were pretty obvious, even to someone who wasn't as perceptive as the fabulous doctor.
"I'll send that compliment to my mother," answered the blonde woman playfully. She casually crossed her legs in her chair and tilted her head to the side as she regarded him, a gentle gaze on her face. "I do know about wrestling though." She underplayed exactly how much she knew wrestling, of course, as she had been quite accomplished in her own right without debuting in LAW yet. She knew that it was a poorly conceived come on, but she decided to have her own measure of enjoyment from the conversation without being overt. She then asked another question in a neutral tone, having an idea where it may go. "Blaise, why would you want to show me a few things?" She could have asked what he would show her, but that would be boring--at least to Lilly, anyway. She then rose her arms up to fix her hair and smiled at him without a hint of animosity towards the young man, her chest slightly jutting out as she did so as certain parts of her body jiggled. Of course, this was all to provoke a more honest response from him with the full intent of making it look like she wasn't coming onto him in the least. It was an innocent display, as far as Blaise needed to know.
An innocent display is all Blaise took it for. He's the last person to suspect someone of foul intentions or underhanded tactics, and he's a heart-on-his-sleeve type. That said, her question seems to halt him. His eyes widen, an unavoidable deer-in-headlights look on full display. Oh yes, she's onto him. He's sure she's onto him!
Mouth opens, moves, but no sound comes out at first. Blaise.exe has stopped responding. It takes a couple blinks, but his mind seems to catch up with what he could use. And what he could use was a more innocent, but still sincere redirect from what his reptile brain was telling him. "Because it's fun. I guess a classy, ah, sophisticated woman like yourself wouldn't really be into that, though, huh?" There's no judgment behind his tone, no condemnation. He's very aware that his profession is uncouth and rough. It takes a special kind of girl to be interested in it, and she's striking him more as the upper-crust type. Those rare go for roughhousing. He even offers a pleasantly guileless smile.
He was certainly that kind of person. He seemed frozen by a simple display of her chest and couldn't even stop it. It was kind of unfortunate, really. But Doctor Fabulous merely smiled at him, giving him an expression of encouragement, which seems to have got him to speak again. And tragically, the response made her lapse into boredom for just a split second before she smiled back to him again. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she debated giving the response she wanted to give.
But the inner psychiatrist in her won out and she took a deep breath, speaking in a quicker tone, still with a friendly sound to her voice. "I don't necessarily agree with that because firstly, you have taken my meaning of my question to mean I would take issue with such a thing, which I could understand, but you didn't necessarily ask me if I would have a problem with it due to the nature that you don't actually seem interested in me so much as my body and name and what I can do for you, which again I understand as I do work out and I do try to maintain a good body and I haven't chosen to wear something that was made to hide my body, because I happen to be very proud of it, but to call me classy and sophisticated seems like a form of flattery towards me that I feel like doesn't really work as well as you think because it implies that I simply can't have fun if I have an air of sophistication about myself, in which case I don't see why you'd want to be with me if you want to do something fun with me, but you don't think I could have fun, unless you were thinking of me in a more shallow manner, which is what I initially brought up, and I again understand completely and I hold no judgement towards you for it, because I'm sure you're projecting a certain image on me without digging deeper into my personality presumably due to my fluffy hat and over-preparedness which could very easily be just fashion and neurosis, respectively. Of course, I could be off base, but I think I have at least some of this correct, but as a disclaimer, I don't mean to tell you what you feel so much as how I feel you are presenting yourself towards me, again with no judgement."
She got all the words out, seemingly just wanting to get them over with, and picked up her drink once again and downed the rest of the contents before offering a bright smile. "But let's go back to you," she followed up, absolutely moved past the tiny rant she had, having little interest in unpacking it at all. It's her day off, after all. "What makes you think a classy or sophisticated woman couldn't enjoy something like wrestling?" She then very casually grabbed her thermos and filled up her margarita again, flashing Blaise a wonderful smile as she did so.
That guileless smile falls flat as she unleashes something that Blaise is having just the hardest time wrapping his head around. Not because it's complicated, but rather the very opposite. And the further it goes, the more perplexed he becomes.
He didn't ask if she'd have a problem with it? Of course he didn't. That would've been weird. "Well-"
She's saying he's more interested in what she can do for him, rather than her, herself. Sure, he appreciates her looks, but they've been talking for like thirty seconds. Give a guy a chance. "Hang on-"
He's just flattering her because he thinks of her in a shallow manner? It was a compliment! "Wait-"
She's sure he's projecting an image on her without bothering with her personality. "Hold up a sec-"
All the repetition of 'no judgment' disclaimers plastered all over the relentless judgment with which he'd just been barraged seems like a verbal parachute rather than sincere. She even said she's sure she has at least some of it correct. If she's made anything clear here, it's that she sees him as shallow, basic, and likely a pervert; with them having shared only about three sentences each. He's faced heels less cruel.
But back to him. Because none of that had anything to do with him? And she doesn't actually want him to respond to any of that, does she? His expression remains set in a sort of exhausted disbelief, flavored with disappointment. The smile she flashes him, set against the backdrop of everything she'd said, reads as profoundly fake. Any attraction he had towards her has utterly dried up.
It's fine, she can do her. He's just not a glutton for punishment. If it's not fun, why do it? And being so heavily and uncharitably judged is not fun.
"I.. think I'm just gonna go. It's obvious I disturbed you, and I'm not into that." Or whatever the heck this has become. Had he realized she was pushing out her chest on purpose earlier, he may have had more to say. "So, uh, hey. Have a good day, yeah?"
And with that, Blaise moves around the lawn chair with every intention to leave her and rejoin his game.
