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the boardwalk ; wednesday afternoon

Sam's ghosts were leaving him alone (literally) which meant he had a semi clear head and was in a semi decent mood when he and his skateboard hit the boardwalk. He hadn't done this in too long (the lack of road rash on his elbows could attest to that) and it felt good to have the wind in his hair and the sun on his face.

For some reason, he felt like he had to be active today. After his duplicates had been lazier than even he'd been at his the height of slackerdom, Sam felt like getting out and doing something would save him from that fate.

Hopefully it would save him from that fate, that is. After all, the M&M's that the teachers had given him had been really good and naps were really fun. But, he didn't want to think of himself getting like that. He wove his way down the boardwalk, getting lost in his own head and his own thoughts of things past and things future.

But, he wasn't too unfocused to trip over cracks or pebbles or run into rails or even off the boardwalk completely and into the sand. Anyone wanting a laugh wasn't going to find it in Sam today.

Just don't toss anything in front of his wheels. Then, he'd probably faceplant and that would hurt. And it'd be mean. Don't be mean.

[Open place in town means open post, of course.]

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Tempting as it was to throw things at him, purely for the amusement factor, Kate managed to refrain. It might partially be that she just didn't take that many safe projectiles with her when she went for a run. Lucky Sam!

She did slow up as she approached him though. "The extra limb is back," she joked, "and you're still blood free. It's a miracle."

Sam the side of a sneaker along the ground to slow himself down so he could roll to a stop easily. He'd seen her when he'd been further back down the boardwalk but hadn't decided if he was going to say hello or just roll on past.

She'd made that decision for him which was always easier for a slacker. "Are you trying to jinx me? I don't fall that often. You've just happened to see me after I wiped out."

He rubbed his elbows sympathetically. They didn't need to be shredded up like his poor back.

Kate shrugged, and raised her hands. "I just call them as I see them." Unfortunately, what she'd seen painted him as a klutz. "Appearances say I don't need to kind."

"I'd be worse," she admitted, though. Skateboarding was not in her skillset.

"You should be nice," Sam chastised, keeping one foot on the ground and stretching out his back. "I've heard karma's a bitch and tends to get you in the end. Wouldn't want a skateboard to fall on your head from the cargo hold of an airplane."

"Karma doesn't like me anyway," Kate told him, a wry laugh escaping. She'd been screwed over since birth. Could it get worse? ... Well yes, but she preferred not to think about that possibility.

"But hey, I'm in a class about not being evil. Maybe something will stick?"

"It's cute that you think any class here is really geared towards that level of academia," Sam remarked with a shrug. Sam didn't really think you could teach not being evil anyway. "Gonna try for valedictorian next? That'd be funny to see."

"Sweet of you to ask. I have my speech all planned out already." Because she was that academic. It was miraculous she got that out with a straight face. "I might even throw you a shout out if you're nice to me."

"Nice is a subjective term," Sam replied, shrugging. "What's nice to me might not be nice to you. So, where does that leave me? Confused. What does that tell me? That I shouldn't even try to be nice to you. See, all works out better in the end."

That was about as existential as Sam would get and even then, it wasn't very existential at all.

And even that was more existential than Kate ever got. It drew a raised eyebrow, and a sort of laugh.

"And here you were telling me karma was going to bite me on the ass for teasing you." He was just as bad. "What's with the double standards, Seattle?"

"What double standards?" Sam asked, shrugging. "That was all hypothetical. I didn't say I wasn't going to be nice to you but you took it that way. Assumptions are only gonna make you an ass. One of my teachers used to say that but she didn't use the word ass. Swear word and all."

Natalie wasn't going to be mean, either. And she was running, trying out that whole cardio thing Professor Columbus seemed so keen on. To be honest, she was only doing it because she was feeling twitchy, and still had parts of the island left to explore.

Two birds, one stone, and other needlessly violent imagery.

But it didn't really suit her. The loose jogging pants were comfortable, as was the t-shirt, and she didn't mind the way her ponytail got messy while she ran, but it was boring. It wasn't like she really needed the exercise, even.

So, it wasn't too much of a loss that she stopped when she spotted Sam approaching a little further away on his board, even going so far as to give him a tiny little wave. ...Well, a slight raise of her hand, anyway.

Sam was really glad that people weren't looking to be asses to him today. Avoiding road rash for once was a step in the right direction for him. Less hurting, easier sleeping tonight.

When he saw Natalie wave (or raise her hand) and after he'd checked to make sure she was waving at him and not someone else, he rolled himself over in her direction, even going so far as to circle her once with his board before he stopped himself.

"Afternoon," he said, swiping at his brow with his upper arm. "Out for a walk along the beach? A lot of personal ads start out like that, you know."

Kate shook her head, "Hypothetical double standards, then. Smartass." He knew what she'd meant.

She grinned. "Do I have to modify that one for your delicate ears?" She couldn't help herself.

"Double standards exist everywhere," Sam replied, barely resisting the urge to smirk at having gotten the slightest of rises out of her. "I'm just perpetuating that fact. Wouldn't want the world to go all topsy turvy because double standards went away."

Yes, he was always going to be a smartass. It would never go away.

Natalie quirked an eyebrow. "Have you been reading a lot of those lately?" He'd left that one wide open for her. "I'm just out for a run. Cardio. For zombie class."

She did not look sweaty enough for that.

And Kate was always going to be a brat. They all had their irritating flaws.

"You planning to take that on single-handedly?" she wondered. "Insuring the continuing corruption of the world is a big task."

"I live with two guys when I'm in Seattle," Sam reminded her, shrugging. "Sometimes we get bored."

And sometimes personal ads were hilarious even if laughing at them felt mean. Whatever, Sam wasn't a saint. He knew that.

"You don't look like you've been running that hard," he said, taking a closer look at her face. "No red cheeks, no sweat, no panting. I probably look worse than you and I haven't been doing that much today."

"You think I could do it?" Sam wondered, pretending to be interested about that. "My mom wants me to graduate high school, I've got a Council seat that's pretty important and an estate back home. Could I fit corruption in between those? Hmm."

"Council seat and your own estate, sounds like the best place to orchestrate corruption from," Kate noted. "Politicians and big landowners are usually at the centre of dodgy activities."

Sam pretended to think about it a little longer before he shook his head. "Both the estate and Council seat were inherited. Sort of. I'm not really meant for them but..."

He shrugged a little helplessly. "Ways of the world, I guess. I'll leave the corruption to the mafia. They look much better with slicked back hair then I do."

"I'm in okay shape," Natalie shrugged. In reality, it might have been down to some more of that very special Canadianness. "And I didn't run for that long."

Long enough for some strands of hair to have escaped her ponytail, but then that happened a lot anyway.

Yeah, even with those strands escaping, he still thought she had nice hair. It was nice enough that he'd noticed that. He didn't smile at it or anything but noticing was a big enough deal.

"I never said you weren't in okay shape," he pointed out, rolling his skateboard back and forth underneath his foot. "I can tell that by looking at you. And by the fact that Doritos aren't bursting out of your pockets or anything."

Kate twitched a small smirk. "Spend a bit more time perfecting your mafia-look in front of the bathroom mirror," she suggested.

She hesitated a moment before adding her next question, "How do you 'sort of' inherit something?" Didn't you just inherit... or not? That was her experience, anyway.

Natalie looked faintly amused. "I told you, Doritos are gross." They went poorly with her habit of spending a lot of time at the computer. It wasn't good for the keyboard or the mouse. "I prefer Pocky for my pointless snack foods, but I don't have any on me in case you were wondering."

Sam would never slick back his hair and he would never grow some bushy mustache or anything else that was stereotypical of the mafia. Movies had given him a lot of knowledge.

"It wasn't my choice to inherit anything," Sam replied, shrugging. "It wasn't like a rich uncle died and left me his millions. It didn't go down like that."

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the boardwalk ; wednesday afternoon

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