trans_9 | Not Everyone Loves The Beach [Open]

To say that Kelly was having trouble relaxing would have been an understatement. Perched on the tallest, rocky outcrop she could find, the waves crashing against the smooth stone far below her, she was throwing stones across the water almost absently. The way her eyes refused to remain still however, attested to the fact that she was alert and wary as ever. Unlike the other members of the crew, who seemed to have taken the shore leave well enough, the Spartan had never been comfortable with inaction. Zokez II may have been a rest stop, a play-planet as it were, but to be on a strange planet, disallowed weapons and worst of all, her armor put her slightly on edge. Of course, a Spartan didn't need weapons to be deadly, but they sure as hell helped when it came down to it. In stark contrast to other members of the crew who had happily shed the majority of their clothing in favour of beachwear, Kelly's attire had hardly changed.

Dressed in cargo pants, combat boots, and a tight singlet with 'U.N.S.C.' stamped across the chest (something she had undoubtedly done herself sometime) she was the picture of discomfort. Her too-pale skin seemed to gleam in the sunlight as she sat, ignoring the gleeful cries of the people surrounding her. She kept a watchful eye on any member of Stacy's crew who was within sight, all the while lobbing rock after rock into the sea. At the rate she was going, it was surprising that she hadn't run out of them yet.

R&R simply wasn't her thing. She could appreciate rack time as much as the next person. A good soldier knew when their body needed rest. But this, relaxing, not doing anything. Unarmed and completely open to enemy attack. She didn't like it. The Ohm were out there. Who was to say they wouldn't hit this planet next? And without weapons, completely unprepared for such an attack, how would a single member survive. Her entire life had been a battlefield. Honestly, she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't been fighting, recuperating from a fight, or preparing to fight. This sort of relaxation simply wasn't for her. At the moment however, all she could do was keep a watchful eye out for anything that may have signaled trouble. Leave the others to enjoy the water and the sun. She would make sure they were safe.

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Amidst the throng of people that frequented the beach, it was difficult for even a Spartan's sharp eyes to pick out individuals. Specially one's as...diminutive as the young Redfield-Kennedy.

When that scream shattered the normal hum of enjoyment that any large group of happy people was wont to produce, Kelly's head snapped up, her eyes quickly scanning the beach until she found its source. Sherry.

With a muttered curse, she jumped to her feet, sprinting to the edge of the outcropping. Heedless of the rather considerable height, she threw herself off the edge, landing in the soft sand with a resounding thud. Then she saw off, throwing up a cloud behind her she covered the distance between them in moments.

Sherry would find herself scooped up and far away from her bucket, and the starfish in the blink of an eye. Kelly's eyes blazed, pale cheeks flushed by the wind.

"You alright, Sherry? What happened?" The arms around the girl were protective, and despite the brisque manner of her inquiry, it was rather obvious that the Spartan was quite worried.

"Tube feet!" Sherry flailed dramatically in Kelly's arms, "It'sgrossit'sgrossit'sgrossit'sgroooooss!"

Goosebumps had risen on Sherry's arms and she hunched her shoulders up, trying to make herself the smallest target possible. Not that it would help. Because the starfish was still out there. With its tube feet.

There was a moment of confused blinking, before she tilted her head at the girl. It was rather obvious that she didn't have any idea what she was talking about. "Tube feet?"

It was evident though, that whatever it was had had a profound effect on her little ~~Spartan~~ charge, and thus the arms around her weren't loosened just yet. At least, not until she got to the bottom of this.

"It was on my foot!" Sherry cried. "With it's little arms, and their little tube feet, and they spit their stomachs out on what they eat. IT IS GROSS. GROSS."

She fell back into Kelly's arms, breathing heavily.

"A starfish, then?" There now. Let's have a moment of silence while the big, bad, killer Spartan does her best not to smile at her little friend's misfortune. "Well they are slightly strange, I'll give you that."

Kelly was more than content to merely hold her until she was ready to be let down.

Sherry's lower lip jutted out spectacularly, "They're horrible and I hate them." Clearly, if it the way to save the multiverse from the Ohm included a heavy dosage of starfish, Sherry Redfield-Kennedy would be having none of it. Not a drop.

At that expression, Kelly could no longer contain her smile, and she shook her head, chuckling quietly. "Mm. I suppose they would take some getting used to." That was quite alright though. Kelly was sure she could more than make up for any lack on Sherry's part if all they had to do to save the universe was handle a few starfish.

"There is no getting used to something that can spit its entire stomach on you." The little girl shuddered. There were just some things nature shouldn't have done.

"Well, you'd be surprised what human beings can get used to given enough time." She smiled. She was living proof after all.

"But I don't want to get used to starfish." She crossed her arms and rubbed her biceps.

"Well, we'll take it in steps then. Really small steps." Really Sherry, Spartans aren't afraid of anything! Except failing. But that's a metaphysical thing so it's okay.

Not Everyone Loves The Beach [Open]

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