It was late afternoon, almost sunset on the tropical planet of Zokez II, the cloudless sky mellowing with hints of gold and mauve, the tide receding as much as possible with the gravitational equivalent of an extra moon now in orbit; most of the tidier shops were closing for the day, the stalls had long since packed up and headed inland, but across the street and deep into the square the Doctor spotted neon lights and flickering signs leading to shady corners and seedy taverns, where the late night crowd was beginning to gather in much tighter packs than the general mass of afternoon. This left plenty of open pathways, so long as one stuck to the right circles (and consequently didn’t plan on going anywhere in particular)—pathways which the Doctor was taking full advantage of in the face of yet another sleepless night.

Surely he was disappointed by recent events, yes, perhaps even more so by the idea that this time he was enclosed, this adventure he would have to play out in a normal, linear fashion, taking the path too well trodden by the more boring members of the universe not able to hop through the fourth dimension, as it were. But, as with what usually occurs with this incarnation, a chance for exploration and adventure quickly drowned out his worries, replacing them with youthful enthusiasm and breathless exclamations to random passerby.

Oh, and shopping. There was shopping involved.

Seeing as the TARDIS, though present, was currently inaccessible, the Doctor took it upon himself to gather some necessary supplies and what luxuries he could afford with his ‘pocket change’. Said pocket change went quite a long way, actually; the Doctor found that he was not only able to purchase more than enough electronic devices to keep him occupied for at least another month, if not more should Engineering provide him with a steady supply of parts to tinker with, but he was also even able to look around for some clothes in a vain attempt to rebuild his usual outfit. Now obviously there were stores with striped slacks and long-sleeved jumpers and whatnot, but in the end they all fell short of the Doctor’s expectations, and he ended up leaving with only a simple white dress shirt (he was lucky to find one with a red interior, but alas, no question marks upon the collar) and a pair of plimsolls. Well, those and a far more precious prize.

A casual pass into a sporting goods store—perhaps in the hopes of finding a more substantial uniform—had the Doctor come across a surprisingly well-made cricket bat, brand new and heftily priced. It took the rest of his allowance and quite a bit of bartering to obtain it, but it was definitely a worthwhile acquisition. Even if he was able to get into the TARDIS, that old bat rotting away in there hadn’t been oiled in several centuries and would probably break in half if it was ever used in any serious competition. This was for the best, yeah?

So now, strolling along the deserted pathway, a small bottle of linseed oil and a dirty handkerchief poking out of his coat pocket, the Doctor was busily tapping away at his prize with a bat mallet and a placid smile on his face. He might’ve been humming, but it was difficult to tell over the rhythmic pounding of willow wood and the background chatter of alien gulls. He was, all in all, extremely happy with himself, this new development, and with being able to completely forget that the rest of the world existed.

Perhaps someone should come remind him that noisily knocking in a cricket bat is not the most efficient way to escape the outside world, as the outside world will often be curious enough to investigate such racket in one form or another.

Arha found herself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling for  far too long with the rush of her Mothers-Within all but quiet in the dead of night.  As much as she commanded herself to sleep, it would not come, and she rose, slipping from her bed and pulling on the pale blue nightgown and robe she had purchased not five hours prior.  Half way down the steps of the tiny beach hut she had found for sleeping, she paused, weaved and sat down.  In her mind, she saw the face of Sana, the Fremen child she had watched die during the Ohm invasion.  She let out a breath and stood, letting her robe puddle behind her as she strode across the sand.

Her bare feet, long used to sand fell into the Fremen style, slip-sliding, random but sure in the moonlight with the alien sound of water crashing to shore ringing in her ears.  The moon was full-bellied in the sky and cast pale, silvery light that touched seafoam and washed out the world.  She should have been resting, but she walked.  There were no true footprints to follow, but she did not go too far before she found herself flowing into the hybrid fighting style that was Jed-Eye and Bene Gesserit both.  Sana's face welled up in her mind's eye, fiercely Fremen, and in response, her movements jerked.

( the sea of stars still sang )

[OOC: Open, new tags mean new threads.]

Lash was very unused to vacations. Her entire life had been in service to the army, developing weapons and blowing things up (quite possibly with death rays. Alright more like very likely.) and the idea of being somewhere for a few days doing nearly nothing made her oddly confused.

Still, she was appreciative that Stacy had allowed her to use a neotank to move around, even if all the weapon systems had been disabled and gutted out to keep with the rules of the world. It gave her something somewhat familair in an unfamiliar universe. It was hard to imagine where she had all started out, now that she was in a gigantic world ship trying to save the universe from the Ohm. But today wasn't for that! After a bit of shopping and doing what had been asked of her, she was now dressed in a two piece bathing suit, sunglasses covering her eyes. Lash stretched out on top of the neotank on a quiet beach as her pale while skin soaked in the warm rays.

This is nice, she had to admit as she sipped a lemonade. Unlike anything she had seen before, and the smell of the ocean air was quite exhilarating and different from the gasoline, dead bodies and bullets she was used to.

"Relaxing isn't bad at all!" she told no one in particular, content to watch the sea-line horizon. "But maybe I should go get some paper and sketch out a few ideas..."

Tsukasa sped along the highway of the planet; it was nice to get out and away from civilization for a while. It was getting close to sunset, too; the remaining light gave off pleasing colors over the skyline.

He passed a beach, one of seemingly hundreds on this world, and decided to stop and relax. So, he pulled the Machine Decader off the road and parked it in a convenient section of earth. Taking the time to set up a small fire, he stretched a little before deciding to watch the sunset. This is why I want to capture the worlds in my camera, he thought, watching the natural beauty that is a sunset. Since, no matter where you go in the Multiverse, a sunset is still one of the prettiest pheonomia in nature.

Leon's shore leave had steadily become less and less of a vacation. First Sherry trying to sneak out at night, then that business with the Major, now he had to return to the ship early to deal with the situation with Steve.

He arrived at Quarantine shortly after coming on board, though he stopped off by the precinct to pick something up first.

"Luis, status report." Does he need to kill Steve now, or not?

Vega Obscura is eleven years old. Apparently, this qualifies him to be the pilot of a vicious multi-ton tyrannosaur robot with a death beam. It does not, however, qualify him to legally drive a golf kart.

This makes absolutely zero sense to Vega, so he's not letting it keep him from enjoying himself.

As a result he'll be puttering around in a little rental golf kart with a solar panel roof, the whine of the little electric motor audible from a distance as he darts up and down streets and sidewalks. He's still figuring out the controls and the steering's jittery, but he's getting it. And going entirely too fast.

Kazami disliked large crowds. When he was younger, he used to love being part of the bustle, but his perspective had changed after becoming a Rider. There was no need for it now, of course, but he still found himself pulling away from the large group of crewmembers as soon as possible, zipping off on his motorcycle. The map uploaded to his omnicomm pointed toward the only places he was terribly interested in visiting, a music store and a motorcycle shop.

After picking up a large toolbox and a collection of tools and spare parts so he wouldn't have to borrow Engineering's equipment anymore, a leather jacket, and a scarf, he stopped by the music store, bought a few spare guitar strings, and a harmonica. His sister had loved to listen to him to play the harmonica, and would constantly beg him to play song after song.

The afternoon finds him perched on top of his new tool box, motorcycle to the side, playing an old tune on his harmonica.

Down on the surface of the planet Zokez II, Stacy's erstwhile (and hopefully much more relaxed) crew began receiving messages over their comm rings and omnicoms.

||Shore Leave is now over, please return to the site for pick up. I repeat, Shore Leave is now over, please return to the site for pick up. I hope you have enjoyed your stay on Zokez II, but all good things must come to an end. Please return to the site for pick up. If you do not return, you will be left behind.||

She means it, too. Better get your butts back to the ship.

[OOC: Please thread amongst yourselves!]

Negi was smoking. A holo-cig but still.

And he had a big goofy grin on his face.

For his first cigarette in, well, forever, he was being rather good at it. And he was humming and walking around like he was floating on air.

The night before had been just fantastic. Wonderful food despite the tiny portions, the wine was great, the amazing not!date...

Yeah, he was on cloud nine at the least. And dressed in sunglasses, hooded shirt and shorts with sneakers, he was humming loudly and a little off tune.

Chamo chuckled to himself. "You think the way he was acting he got laid..."

"I heard that!" exclaimed Negi and Chamo laughed.

"Table for two?"

"Smoking or non?"

"Right this way please."

Holding out Sasami's chair for her, Negi waited for her to seat herself before he took a seat himself. The restaurant was a fairly high class one for tourists, one that had alien script that roughly translated to "The World Ahead". "Welcome to the World Ahead," said the server as Negi took his seat. "Can we get anything to start?"

"Um..." Negi popped open the menu and scanned it. It auto-translated to what his home language and said, "This bread would be nice. And something sweet to drink?"

"Very good sir. And for the lady? And an ash tray for your... pet?"

"The pet would prefer an ash tray yes," said Chamo with a look at the waiter who blinked his five eyes. "And something sparkly to drink."

"Very good sir."

(ooc: before this)