marothius | ( life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass )

Vincent's hunched over his book, holding it close as he himself becomes more and more drenched from the rain. Of course it's getting his beloved wet despite his best effort! The last thing he's expecting is someone to sweep in to rescue it... or try to, anyway. And he certainly can't be blamed for taking a pause to notice that electric blue hair against the darkening sky.

It's a solid beat or two before those wide eyes can tear themselves away to gather up the blanket. It's crumpled hastily and clutched in his arms. Where is he supposed to go from here? He doesn't have a car to shelter in. He took a bus here! Looking back to the helpful stranger with those questioning eyes, he finally asks, "Where can we go?"

Rai reaches out to stick his hand into the crumpled up blanket to gauge just how wet it got before Vincent scooped it up. Is it at least dry enough to cocoon the book in before the rain starts to soak through the bottom of his shirt? He looks up at the sky, out at the angry clouds he stirred up over the ocean, then toward some small structures around the beach and some actual buildings beyond. Basically, trying to figure out how long they have to duck into somewhere nearby before the sky really opens up. He doesn't have a vehicle either, you see. He normally has wings and those are much better at getting him around than any car would be. Besides, a driver's license might be difficult to obtain for someone who isn't really a person.

Shoving the book into the middle of the balled up beach blanket then stepping in a little closer to help the blond shield his precious cargo from the rain, Rai points to two different places. First, there's a small covered juice stand right on the beach, which is not the best option but it'll do in a pinch, and then there's a cafe just on the edge of the beach. That would be his choice, but he's also not as eager to get out of the rain. "That's closer, or we can make a run for it and go somewhere that's warm too."

Vincent also looks back toward the dark clouds. The wind is picking up and soon the rain would be coming down at an angle. The juice bar wouldn't provide them shelter for very long when that happens. He follows Rai's eyes toward the cafe, then nods.

"Let's run."

Vincent isn't a physically active sort. He's slight and lacks muscle. The thought of running is already making him a little breathless, but for the sake of his precious book, he'll do it! Without any further thought, he reaches out to grab one of Rai's hands (surely he can spare one while holding the blanket bundle) and takes off across the sand.

A little rain doesn't bother him. Being wet isn't the end of the world. And he's certainly wet by the time the make it to the cafe. Wet and out of breath. They're just inside the door when Vincent doubles over, hands just above his knees, panting for breath. Who knows how much of the dampness is from the rain or from sweat.

Rai raises his eyebrows in mild surprise, looking down when Vincent grabs his hand. In his experience, most humans don't like to touch or be touched by strangers. Which he gets. He can understand their want for those around them to keep their hands to themselves. Does he always respect that? Maybe not as much as he should, though it's the minor sort of touches. Hands, arms, shoulders. Perfectly innocent. The meaning behind them isn't always as innocent, but that's neither here nor there.

The run to the cafe isn't terribly long or difficult and the addition of the rain makes it almost comfortable. A short run in the cool rain is nice, actually. He's not having quite the same bad time that his companion seems to be having. It's okay though. They're inside now. Vincent can take his time to catch his breath. And assess the damage to the book that Rai may have ruined. In his defence though, the weather can be unpredictable and humans know that. Even if their meteorologists had gotten pretty close to being able to predict the unpredictable, it's impossible for them to be able to account for the mythological storm bird who's decided to nest in their city and essentially take over their weather.

Rai snorts out a quick laugh and lays his hand on Vincent's back when he doubles over. He rubs it a little as he looks over his shoulder, watching as the rainfall grows more intense. Sorry to all of the beachgoers, but he had to do it. There's always tomorrow. "You're fine now. Just breathe," he says, a hint of amusement still in his voice. "Why don't you find a place to sit and I'll grab you something to drink. What do you want?"

Normally, Vincent isn't that bold. He's not fast at running, so Rai being able to keep up never factored in. It was mostly that he didn't want to possibly lose the person protecting his book. It's a very special book!

He's trying to breathe, thanks. Oddly enough, the soothing hand rubbing his back seems to help the burning in his lungs. Maybe that's all in Vincent's head, but it feels like he's getting more air more easily. It could, also, be that he isn't running anymore. That's probably a contributing factor.

Please give him a second to stand upright, while nodding in agreement. "Just water," he answers, still quite breathless. But he nods again, then shakes his head a little as if to shake off some of the water free from his curls. His fingers delve into his hair next, tussling it to try to restore some of the spring.

Looking around, he spots an unoccupied table (he imagines the place filled up quickly with the rain) and nods toward it. "I'll be over there."

Little does he know but Vincent has nothing to worry about there. Losing the person protecting his book won't be as easy as that. Not so long as Rai doesn't want to be lost.

Rubbing Vincent's back just a bit longer, Rai gives it a few gentle pats and then waits for his companion to straighten. Once he's upright, Rai shoves the blanket bundle in his arms to take with him over to the chosen, empty table. One of very few left, it seems. This place has become a safe haven from the rain. It's almost a shame that the owners of this establishment (and all others near the beach, really) don't know that the storm that's rolling in is his doing. He could negotiate his way into a decent cut of their profits from all of the business he gets them on rainy days. Unfortunately, humans don't often take kindly to learning that one of their own is not, in fact, one of their own. They don't take kindly to finding out that one of the men in the midst is actually a bird.

Once his hands are free, he runs his fingers back through his hair to shake out some of the rain water and nods toward the blanket with the book inside. "Alright. Check it see how your book is doing and I'll be right back."

Humans, generally, don't take well to whatever they don't understand. Disbelief and fear take hold and, well, that doesn't bode well for whatever triggers those feelings. Vincent knows that academically. He's a student of literature, after all, and so many stories revolve around just such a conceit.

Of course, that's so far from his mind as Rai pushes the beach blanket into his arms and he toddles quickly to the table to unwrap his book. Sliding into the seat, he unwraps the book gingerly, almost fearful to see the damage it sustained before Rai's quick thinking. He sags in relief to see that the already worn paperback isn't completely ruined. The front and back covers are a little worse for wear and the edges of the pages a little damp, but the in didn't soak through or smear. They may crinkle a little when they dry, but that's better than ruined!

It's probably obvious that the book's okay from the bright smile that pulls across his face as he looks up to find Rai.

Rai has heard tales of at least one bird like him coming up against the fear and disbelief that humans have of things they don't understand. He's never seen it himself but word travels. Especially the negative kind. The kind that could serve as a warning to others. Some choose to believe it, some don't. Some choose to believe that the humans they find themselves around will be the more understanding kinds. 'I've gotten close enough to these humans to know that they're different!'

Sure.

Once he's acquired some drinks, he turns away from the counter to see that bright, beaming smile. Like a beacon among the other patrons. It's cute. He's cute. He makes his way back to the table and sets down three drinks: a water and two iced coffees. The water is for Vincent, of course, and at least one of the iced coffees is for himself. The second is for Vincent should he decide he'd like something more than water. Or for himself if Vincent doesn't.

"Soo the smile tells me it's good news?"

"It's not ruined," he chirps with a series of eager nods. Not ruined is the best he could hope for. A little more damaged than before, sure, but not ruined! Not ruined is all Vincent wanted. He's so happy he actually doesn't realize he's clutching the poor old paperback against his chest with a white-knuckled grip. It takes a full beat after he's declared it's state before he notices and gingerly sets it on the table so Rai can read the title: To the Lighthouse.

"Thank you," he gushes softly. "It's your quick thinking that saved it."

Rai tips his head to the side in a very bird-like fashion that could just as easily be mistaken for perfectly human curiosity. He reaches across the table to put his hand on top of the book once it finally touches the table. The whole time, he keeps his eyes on Vincent, to see how he might react, to see if it's okay to be touching the human's book. But without any further waiting, he pulls it toward himself, spinning it around to better look at the cover. He's looking at the title, committing the cover to memory. If he sees a copy just like this out in the wild, maybe he'll pick it up to replace the one that's not ruined, but a little more damaged than before.

"It's my defence against the rain. I have terrible luck and get myself caught out in it a lot."

"Is it bad luck? The rain isn't so bad..." Even if it did threaten a beloved book. It's an older book, very worn. Older than Vincent in fact. It's his mom's favorite book and she's read it to and with him hundreds of times, it seems like. She gave him that copy which was hers when she was younger.

"I kind of like it when I don't have a book to protect."

"It's not great luck when you're not a big fan of the rain." Says the bird who caused the rain. Though to be fair, causing the rain is a lot more enjoyable than being caught in it. Even if he's well equipped to more than handle the weather that he causes, his body still tingles in a way that he's never really liked when he's too wet for too long. It could certainly be much worse, though, for a bird made mostly of lightning. "Well, it's more like I have mixed feelings about the rain." Rai leans back and runs his fingers through his hair to shake out some of the water without getting too much of it on the table. "I don't really like getting caught in so much of it."

Rai turns the book back around and slides it across the table toward Vincent. "Hmm yeah I can see how a threatened book could really sour any good experience."

Vincent hums, nodding in thoughtful agreement. From the way everyone took off running at the first drop of rain, he can imagine a lot of people don't like. He's not ever pleased to be caught in it, but it's just water. He can always go home and change his close if he gets too wet. It's not the end of the world.

Looking down at the book, he takes it gently in his hands, a fond smile pulling across his face. "It's a special book to me."

( life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass )

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