Most of the time Rey is at the Speakeasy. With her house just across the water, she has nowhere else to sleep, anyway.
On the beachline overlooking the West Island, Rey sits on one of the basalt columns, one foot planted on the lower rocky column while her left is propped up on another, tapping furiously over the slightly more elevated pillar. She watches the tides roll in and out down the shores, brow creased and hand pressed to her mouth as she haunches forward in a rather relaxed (but cantankerous) position. While the winds are unkind and the climate is as chilly as it's ever been, she still appears as underdressed for the weather as always.
The waters don't look very friendly, but Rey can't take her mind off the distance. If she's careful, if she puts her memories of the past women she had been to work, the space between the islands doesn't even pose a real challenge.
"Could probably swim it," she mutters to herself, eyes locked on the rapid, rolling waves.
Maybe not, but when has bad ideas ever stopped her?
Wildcard: South Island (maybe mid-event/June?)
On the beachline overlooking the West Island, Rey sits on one of the basalt columns, one foot planted on the lower rocky column while her left is propped up on another, tapping furiously over the slightly more elevated pillar. She watches the tides roll in and out down the shores, brow creased and hand pressed to her mouth as she haunches forward in a rather relaxed (but cantankerous) position. While the winds are unkind and the climate is as chilly as it's ever been, she still appears as underdressed for the weather as always.
The waters don't look very friendly, but Rey can't take her mind off the distance. If she's careful, if she puts her memories of the past women she had been to work, the space between the islands doesn't even pose a real challenge.
"Could probably swim it," she mutters to herself, eyes locked on the rapid, rolling waves.
Maybe not, but when has bad ideas ever stopped her?