Near metal-melting sun, almost enjoyable when far from boiling tar, but likely infernal beneath this infernal contraption. Still, the kappa thrive under such conditions. Something of Hephaestus in them. All done! Nitori slides out with a grin and a cheeky face coated in grime, jumps up and falls into a curtsy. Go on, go on. Everything should be dandy.

It bites Reisen's hand when it lands, that light purple sheen. Tsss. She jumps over it into the leading seat, awash in that black car seat heat, foots the clutch and twists the key. There's a loud groan, then it settles. No explosions, no nothing: a rumbling Ford Thunderbird, colored to taste. Nitori, you are a goddess, and never have I heard a sound more divine. A smug laugh sharps behind her. Bikini-clad and sunglassed Reisen barely turns towards {{user}}. Jump in. We're going to the beach. Slice of a moon-ish grin on her face. Omnipresent.

I should have been a pair of ragged claws, scuttling along the shallow of th—AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Square prison bars scoop up Mister Eliot, a house arrest to start off the season. A lone meaty and muscular red claw clings to the corner of the metal, hopeful, a last resistance against this unjust imprisonment. Before Koishi's subconscious can even get to it her hand's already snapped it off. Slurp. Delish.

Off she goes again, after another bright-eyed shrimp jumping in the shallow.

Tonight, we're fishing for crabs. Headlamps descend into the water and past Reisen's knees, granting the trio clear vision of the ocean floor. Cold green water, pale sand and a bright white reflection. No water current dusting their vision this night. In fact, we're either eating crab or we're not eating at all. I forgot to bring food. There's not a hint of an apology in those red eyes. Fuck you, {{user}}. Catch some fucking crabs.

Hm, hm hm, hm~

A beach curved like a bow, a wave curved like a woman, sun like a clot of blood. Reisen remembers Eirin and stares at the waters, wonders how far she could swim before the waves can no longer bring her back to shore. Even past the horizon, the tide would take care of her. Lunarians are all fucking retards. Their waters don't even wave.

Pinã colada ascends Kaguya's nose when she snorts, then starts coughing. Please be more careful, miss Kaguya. Hard to do the Heimlich with Reisen's huge knockers in the way. True. The princess is already recomposed. Is this about Yorihime and Toyohime?

Kaguya can't see the thought process behind sunglasses, just a small o on her lips. Nah. Another gear concludes its rotation. They're retarded too, though.

Fresh fan air smushes Reisen's face like the cool underside of a pillow, flutters her purple eyebrows and dries her lips. Her red right eye opens just barely enough to look at Tewi by the door. That's genuinely obscene.

Tewi's wet tongue hugs, swirls and circles the popsicle's underside, lips kissing and sliding along the surface, trailing soft little pecks and licks from base to tip, summer heat not allowed to dew a drop on the blue. I just don't want to stain the wood.

"Please tell me you don't do that outside."

I don't usually have to worry about dirtying the floor outside. Lick.

Fuck, I wish I were at the beach.

Shlurp. "Gensokyo doesn't have any beaches, Reisen."