Pilatus

AZUL Islands - Drama, Romance, Mystery, Slice of Life

Chris MacDonald

The music was indeed pulsing in the distance as Chris scrolled his phone under the dim light of a tiki torch. Town center glowed to the north and the gentle western waters lapped at the dock beneath him. There was a bottle of Carib in his other hand, being drained slowly and sweating beads on the deck chair. He had already been running earlier so he felt there was no harm in the empty calories. At the same time though, a scent of alluring spices did drift from the celebrations, tempting him while his eyes continued to scan an obscure pilot’s internet forum about bush flying in North Africa. It wasn’t the first time he glided over this corner of the aviation web. There were considerable fortunes to be made if you didn’t mind occasionally getting shot at, however Chris was reasonably sure about half of the internet denizens of this particular board had never even sat in an aircraft.

His thought process was usually the same whenever he felt the urge to browse: It wouldn’t be a career change or anything, but maybe a “tour” or two might be nice for the bank account. Of course his mother would have a heart attack. Then the mental image of flying a Caravan over the heads of desperate people with automatic weapons and not a lot to lose took away a certain mystique from the frontier appeal.

The natives can’t shoot for shit, keep your speed up and don't worry about breaking the rules and you'll be fine. One fine poster said.

Another respondent shared photos of the cargo bay of a PC-6 that looked more red from blood stains than gray steel and begged to differ. Chris winced at the image.

Someone else chimed in that they had seen up to a 40mm mounted on the back of a Toyota truck and were adamant some factions had shoulder fired missiles. Nope.. He shook his head and mouthed the word, still looking, his thought process continuing... It still wouldn’t be hard to check out in a King Air or something with at least two engines and some speed, but the concluding factor in the decision was always the same. There wasn’t anyone on Azul that he could trust with the 206 and there was no way he would ask his dad to get back in the saddle for schedule work so he could go play Combat Flight Sim with live ammunition. He felt guilty as the plane bobbed against the dock behind him as if it knew he was looking at other aircraft. “Don’t worry.” He said and finally closed the site for another day’s musing.

He sat for a while and watched the dark horizon as nautical lights winked over the blanket of the sea. He thought for a long time. What was undeniable was that Azul was soon going to outgrow his favorite plane and that fact did make the prospect of a career change more plausible. Perhaps not a career change, but an employer one most likely. He couldn’t think of a way the Flores were going to come back. They were on the decline. Everyone knew it. None of Esteban’s children had the same simple kindness or charisma to lead. They were spoiled. The only decent one, Jose, the one that might have had a chance was gone as well. He thought about Jose’s red haired American widow. She hadn’t been the same since. It was just a sad situation all around. It seemed like Cesar, the youngest brother, would take after Jose, especially when he went courting a foreign wife, but after Jose died, he had nowhere else to turn but to the pompous Alejandro. Flying the mail and whatever simple cargo the local government required was going to soon be an unprofitable sideshow with them in charge.

What was definitely not going to be unprofitable was the Cardenas, who were unburdened by any such concerns. On this night though, the first Cardenas Chris thought of was not Jewel or Miguel, but Iris, who had become unburdened of her clothing in short order once the “furniture moving” had started. Chris shifted in his chair and let out a long breath at that recollection. What followed was about the most fun he had outside the cockpit in several months… and an encounter he didn’t plan to breathe a word of to anyone- though he was sure Iris would spill at some point despite her insistence. It would probably get weird when Jewel found out, but he noticed he didn’t really care and surprisingly, It was like the air was cleared in a way. This wasn’t Azul from two decades ago when he was barely out of high school and she was setting off for the mainland. Maybe it was reckless, but this time he just wasn’t going to read any more into it than that. The Cardenas were the future, that was undeniable, but If Jewel was to run for and become mayor like they were implying, she wouldn’t have time for his right seat anymore. It would be open for someone else who wanted to be there.

Iris had been pretty chill about the whole thing since that night which was perfect. He grinned to himself in the dark and read over a couple of her joking texts and enjoyed the rest of his beer.

AZUL Islands - Drama, Romance, Mystery, Slice of Life

I'm gonna open this up for a few more people so if you're reading this and have been lurking or just found us, it's still an easy time to join up.

-P

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

Jonathan McCord

One had to offer a certain level of appreciation when it came to Uncle Mack’s crew and being sneaky bastards. When it was confirmed that the Colonel’s challenge was going to be accepted and his mech delivered via a standard recovery flat, Mack cheekily suggested loading Jon’s Marauder onto a standard equipment hauler. With Ossie’s frame crouched low, it was easy to move at night like a piece of covered construction equipment. The steady seismic movement of a laden heavy hauler was concealed under the Knights’ lance, the Colonel’s mech on the flat and the incoming movement of the Crimson Fists. Apropos, conveniently adding to the subterfuge, two more trucks followed carrying a pair of tracked excavators. Before the sun was up a nice trench was dug for Jon to nestle into that overlooked the field where Wayne and the Crimson King would duel. It was a good looking set up, Jon had to concede. Mack’s men liked to work. He wished he could have taken a picture. The cooling turbines were just a few meters above the edge of the trench and a cargo net laced with vegetation was draped over everything. Only the lengthened barrel of the AC5 protruded unnaturally, but was likewise covered with loose vines and fauna that would burn off once the party started.

The ground shook as the Knights moved up and Jon crouched, taking a clump of grass and letting it fall, watching the wind take it, comparing it with the ripple of exhaust bellowing from Knights’ reactor vents in the distance. To the north the young engineer and a few other astechs were working quickly around a field scaffold getting the Colonel’s mech ready. It was already standing and he watched a green pennant that was mounted on the shoulder bearing the Knight’s standard sway gently in the breeze as well. Somewhere on that field the Crimson King and his entourage would appear. Sighted for 900 meters it wouldn’t be easy shooting even with little wind for the autocannon. He’d have to make the first few volleys really count. Looking behind him, in the dark of the tree line the mech’s presence was imperceptible. At the cooling depth of the excavation he reckoned he could probably crack off a couple extra shots before the jig was up. If he timed it right, they might even think it was Myrmidon hooked to a cooling truck. He reached in his pocket. There was time for one more smoke and he frowned as it was all he had left. He lit up and looked back at the Battlemaster thinking it had a very regal appearance with the pennant attached and he thought it was a little odd that Wayne referred to it in the feminine.

There was something different about the DCMS girl that he noticed during the briefing. When he found the Knights in the cave weeks ago, she was surrounded by the others, laughing and jovial at times, but this time during Wayne’s presentation she sat by herself and no one spoke to her. He shrugged a bit at the thought, not really making anything of the observation and watching the work continue. Even at this distance it was clear she was in charge and he could see her directing the others from the scaffold, occasionally going in and out of the top hatch or moving to investigate something on the ground. They seemed to be particularly concerned with the left arm and he continued watching them as he dragged down the last of the cigarette. She turned from the highest level of the platform and looked up towards his position. Her hair blew and something gave him an odd feeling, like she was looking directly in his eyes from half a kilometer away. He stood up slowly and shook his head, stamping out the butt in the mud as she turned away. It was time to fight, but before he turned away he opened the book tucked under his arm and as he often did, randomly let the battered spine fall open to one of the many dog-eared and battered pages. The underlined text drew his eyes as it had many times before:

He thought that in the beauty of the world were hid a secret. He thought that the world’s heart beat at some terrible cost and that the world’s pain and its beauty moved in a relationship of diverging equity and that in this headlong deficit the blood of multitudes might ultimately be exacted for the vision of a single flower.

He breathed in for a moment and stared at the page as his expression hardened as the words set him in a mind to point a weapon and kill.

AZUL Islands - Drama, Romance, Mystery, Slice of Life

Taryn Rogers

This was not Taryn’s first Azul Days. If there was nothing else she learned at the University of Miami, it was how to run an excellent pregame and arrive at the party just fashionably late enough to be on the borderline of over the edge. The revelry kicked off with the jolly roger going up the mast upside-down and the three day refined contents of the T500 “Drunkinator” being dispersed liberally among the other yachts, cruisers and dinghies that had tied up or dropped anchor around ’Donna. She coughed as the first cap full of purified spirits was passed around. A creation that burned the nostrils and scented somewhere between paint thinner, jet fuel and isopropyl before it was diluted. Not unlike a tailgate party on the water, music played into the night as the entire assemblage of friends and strangers steadily moved onto shore for the customary bar crawl that would follow: A formidable route of indulgence designed to move ahead of the incoming parade through the center of town with the challenge being to hit all the bars and still be standing by the time of the Pot Breaking ceremony. Bonus points were awarded for arriving ahead of the parade. This year she wasn’t going to lead the shore party in her usual fashion because this year was different, this year she had a date.

Still cognizant enough to lock the hatch her stance swayed a bit as she turned the key. Throughout the festivities, she had done a “fair” job at pacing herself which was enough to go unnoticed, but not perfect. She blinked and stared at the lock for a moment pulling herself back together for the ride to the dock. Part of her wished she had invited him out to the party. She wanted to, but that also needed to be paced. She and Bobby had hit it off really well, too well even. Thankfully the presence of the other two, his business partner and security guard apparently, made it easy to pump the brakes. He wasn’t the vapid corpo she expected and it caused her to put her guard up more, not dismissively though, just being careful. Bobby was handsome and older, but even better he had purpose and drive. He was outside the paradigms of Azul and his own man. She swooned a little at the thought. In the span of just a few weeks she had gone from locked-out status quo to having real cards on the table in a big way, though her schemes felt a little childish compared to his business acumen. If she couldn’t maneuver her way around the Cardenas and Flores, then Bobby could potentially be a very smart backup plan, maybe even a main plan…

She let out an unheard sigh as the dinghy skipped along the water beneath her, not even really paying that much attention to the carousing among the others around her. Her hair was down and she tried to hold it together so as not to look completely windblown. Behind her to the west the last vestiges of the day were slipping away and beyond the island in the far eastern distance she could see a ripple of lightning beneath the stars. She watched it for a moment, always beautiful, and so much of her longed to be underway again. Her eyes came back down though and glancing across the lagoon she saw the mayor’s yacht still dark and unoccupied and she thought about Cori for a moment.

When they tied to the dock, Ronaldo was waiting with a cart. A small chorus of teasing scandal flowed from the group, but she waved it off taking some pleasure in detecting jealousy among some of the other women. She sat in the back seat of the cart and Ronaldo regarded her for a moment, but didn’t say anything. That was a good move for Ronaldo.

Arriving at Casa Del Sol, Ronaldo went ahead upstairs to fetch Bobby leaving Taryn to wander the lobby alone. The rush of crisp air conditioning combined with the smell of flora and fine linen reminded her of the other world that existed on the islands. The tourist world. She gave a huff of derision and made her way quietly to examine herself in a corner mirror before Bobby came down.

When she was rummaging through her collection of mostly shorts, tees and bathing suits trying to pick out an outfit for the evening, she almost picked out a dress, but thought better of it. Instead, she decided to test him and judge his reaction to see if he would be embarrassed of her. She wore a black Hank Jr tee that she had deeply cut the sleeves and sides away from and at the right angles gave a glimpse of her toned midsection and the matching black string bikini top underneath. Frayed jean shorts just covered the hint of the second piece that arced up her hips. She knew her best best angles and carefully scrutinized herself while no one was looking. A metallic arm bracelet curled around her right arm, polished black stainless that reflected in a deep blue under light and resembled two sharks swimming opposite of each other at the ends- Custom made, it was one of her favorite pieces of jewelry. Her wrists carried similar adornments of bracelets tied and metal, cheap and expensive. Around her neck was a simple chain necklace with a single black stone that was cut and shaped into a flat oval and had once been ballast onboard the Twilight Sonnet, though it hung under her shirt. She adjusted her hair again, just not too much. It was still a little disheveled from its natural wave. Looking casual, classy and messy all at once took a certain amount of finesse.

Meeting a man at the hotel, Taryn you absolute skank. A voice teased from the back of her mind. It was funny when she thought about her friends back in Miami or Ft. Myers saying it, but when her mother’s voice came through she frowned and turned from the mirror, picking up her bag to wait at the bar.

@AndyC

AZUL Islands - Drama, Romance, Mystery, Slice of Life

Continuing ACT 1 - Latitudes & Attitudes

Late August - Saturday Night - Azul Days Opening Parade - Clear with Marine Storms on the Horizon

This evening marks the beginning of annual Azul Days- a celebration of the island’s history and people. Throughout Ave Pura Vida on Isla Zafrio torches are lit while flags and lights are hung high and low between businesses and residences alike. Music is so loud the sands on the beaches shift as the people of Azul turn out for the start of what amounts to a week-long party that will culminate with the Vida de Exito Ceremony. Unknowing tourists are typically taken aback by the magnitude of the excitement leading more to the mystique that Azul is the best kept secret in the Caribbean.

This year large pictures and murals of the mayor are displayed prominently throughout Isla Zafrio and the Flores family have encouraged all to turn out in remembrance of the mayor and to celebrate rather than be mournful. Somewhat surprisingly, Alejandro Flores has already declared his candidacy for his late father’s position as mayor. While his running is not unexpected, the announcement comes before the special election has even been called for by Azul’s interim government. This has led to some speculation among the community that the Flores, with their deep connections to island governance, already know when the official announcement will be made.

Later, after an evening of feasting, singing and revelry, the annual Pot Breaking ceremony is the highlight of the night and marks the official start of Azul Days. In order to please La Mujer Fatal, tradition dictates a woman from the community be chosen at random to break the first of the exquisitely crafted pottery, each containing some element of life from the islands. It is considered a high honor of the old ways to have one’s art chosen and the unpredictable nature of selection and destruction are still seen by many as a form of divination about the future of Azul. Naturally an artisan cannot also be an entrant in the lottery and it is considered extremely bad luck to attempt cheating.

There will be a drawing to determine who will have the privilege at exactly 8:13pm. The twentieth hour of the day and the highest number in Mayan numerology and the thirteenth minute, the number of known Mayan gods.

Good luck!

AZUL Islands - Drama, Romance, Mystery, Slice of Life

24 Hour Time Skip Warning

Temporal Jump will be to Saturday Night - Azul Days Celebration

All are free to fill in the time between Wednesday and Saturday as much or little as you prefer from the opening posts.

While Azul Days is a hallmark event for the islands, in general this event is meant to be fun and bring characters together, create some good interactions and spawn friendships, frenemies, enemies or maybe something else. Expect a few surprises...

As always, if you feel that you are not ready to skip. PLEASE speak up!

---

AZUL Islands - Drama, Romance, Mystery, Slice of Life

Taryn Rogers

The potential intricacies of the Flores’ Italian yacht kept popping up in the back of her mind. It felt like the only wildcard in the plan and it prickled at her nerves like a map she could only half see. She had told Cori she would be able to pull the information straight away as if it would be like hooking up a laptop or tablet, but in truth she had not the slightest idea. It was a little funny in a way and the sentiment matched her continuing good mood and smug smile as she glanced around at nothing in particular. Plenty of times she had looked up videos on Youtube or appealed to the followers on her Instagram page for technical issues with Donna and they never steered her wrong… most of the time. This would be no different, she told herself. Her shoulders bobbed back and forth gingerly as if she were dancing with the considerations. Getting the data on a boat like that wouldn’t be hard mechanical work, which wasn’t exactly her forte either, but it might get a little tricky if they had put up any sort of password protection on the nav systems. After that it would likely be pretty straightforward and if she could just get coordinates on the screen she could take pictures with her phone. Dates would be even better…

The scent of a foreign perfume mixed with the surrounding aroma of food, sunscreen and saltwater. Not just some discount outlet Victoria’s Secret either, expensive perfume, Dior or Chanel. Mostly lost in her thoughts, Taryn’s eyes lifted behind her glasses. Someone was talking. A man. Her gaze moved slowly over shoulder. A serious looking Asian woman was looking directly at her, clearly staring from behind her own sunglasses. Taryn continued to turn her head slowly. Another man also looked back at her, but not the one speaking. He had a softer glance of some amusement and looked relaxed, completely at home. Her eyebrow arched as the words continued to spill out and she realized, turning finally to the speaker, that he was attempting to make a pass at her. She stared blankly at him for an awkward few seconds as whatever game he had was concluded and her fantasy of raiding the mayor’s yacht dissolved in the image of a man who looked like a cross between Don Johnson and Patrick Bateman. Instinctively, a defensive quip was forming on the edge of her lips to put him in his place and she crossed an arm over herself to hold her bag with both hands.

The whole trio was a bizarre assemblage. Shooting a covered glance back at the woman, she didn’t see any ring on her either and thought for a moment the woman might have been an escort which wasn’t unusual. It was just an odd vibe. They were together, but not together and the third wheel bro was like the hangaround wingman she guessed. Still, something familiar came to mind as she saw herself in the reflection of his glasses- an accessory just as pricey as the perfume and she knew the sensation of her uncanny memory pulling up some fleeting impression. When the recollection hit, she couldn’t believe her luck and her countenance slowly shifted like a jaguar grinning from a tree. She hadn’t paid any attention to his canned spiel and it didn’t matter. This day literally couldn’t get any better. Her accent turned up just a bit as she spoke to him: “I know you,” She said, feigning amazement for his ego. “You’re the one with the helicopter.”

@AndyC

AZUL Islands - Drama, Romance, Mystery, Slice of Life

Alright frens,

We are a month in so the time has come to move forward with the story. During the next week everyone needs to be wrapping up their scenes. If you are in a position where you are waiting, or have been for a while, there is nothing wrong with discussing resolution with those involved. We don’t require long posts, just arrive at an amicable resolution for the day. The point of the first day (with any slice of life game) is usually to just introduce your characters and a snapshot of their lives. If you have done that then you are on the right track. If you have not, here’s just a few items to consider that we have noticed:

1. Move the plot when you post. There’s a reason why this is in the guidelines and by plot we mean YOUR CHARACTER, not the overall plot. If you set out with no other intentions than to get a drink or pick out clothes then it’s not gonna lead to a lot of fulfillment in writing. Likewise, if you write a lot of unimportant details, while they may be fun to you, they’re not always helpful to anyone else trying to write with you.

2. This is a dynamic setting. There is plenty of fun stuff to plan and do with your characters. It is a literal paradise. Get out there and be a part of it. With this in mind also, we noticed there was not a whole lot of discussion about the uncertain future of the islands in regards to the mayor. You may consider your character to be outside the fray, but we promise you, particularly if your character owns a business, the winner of the election is going to be a very BIG DEAL for them. Ignore at your peril.

3. Some of you may be approaching the threshold of five IC posts to get a second character started. This may be an attractive option if you tend to be a fast poster although I will lament the perfect balance we have in characters.

4. The next time skip will be to Saturday night and the start of Azul Days. There will be a parade and a celebratory ceremony. I will divulge more details when asked, but not so much as to spoil anything. The fact that there is a parade and an opening ceremony will be common knowledge to the locals. The overall plot will progress and we have been looking at the characters as to who we can use to help move it along. This is not to say that your own plots and plans are not important, but as a SoL game, there is an expectation of you making your way a little bit. If you wish to more directly involve yourself with the overall plot my DMs are always open for ideas or just making plans in general.

So just to reiterate, this next week, we need to work on resolving scenes and making plans for Saturday night. There is nothing wrong with collabs between characters for the time in between if you wish, just don’t put yourself behind if you choose to write an interim period.

Lastly, I appreciate everyone that has stayed to write with us. Solid groups on the Guild can be hard to come by and those that have played with me before know I always try to build a cohesive community. If you choose to invest further in our story then understand I truly am thankful.

Carry on.

-P

AZUL Islands - Drama, Romance, Mystery, Slice of Life

Chris MacDonald

Somehow he doubted Iris was ever one to be starved for company while she suddenly had him at an unexpected impasse. Chris could manage fuel and weather or even fly on just the gauges alone without even looking out the window, but Iris was a force that couldn’t be managed or predicted. His step up the path faltered just a fraction at her invitation and there were about ten different warning sirens blaring in the back of his mind like an annunciator panel. Luckily, pragmatism came through, though the words were right on the edge of his thought process. “...Yeah, I’m pretty much done for the day at this point.” He said, speaking as if he were still considering something he might have forgotten and buying some time to think as they walked. Why would she be alone tonight after that whole reunion? Even though she had expressed some reluctance towards coming back to Azul, everything seemed fine when they first landed. When she said she wanted a ride to see her house, he figured it was just the most efficient move. His mind thought similarly: A to B in the best method. It was literally his job. After he dropped her off, he assumed she would make her way back to Ramilo, but apparently not.

She just wants her furniture moved and you are already here and can give her a ride. Yes, that was all there was to it. Deferring to the simplest process was also the easiest explanation. There was no way she could already be avoiding the rest of her family. That was just a tease to entice him to work. All women did it and her change of outfit made the allure all the easier. He’d certainly got a good enough view when he helped her out of the plane. Chris looked ahead now, refocused. He pushed a palm frond out of their way and his thoughts reordered how the rest of his day would likely go if he was going to have to move furniture. Fortunately, “moving” on Azul wasn’t usually the event that it was back in the States. Most all the houses were fairly small, not much more than cottages or apartments and he doubted Iris’ would be any different, especially if it was closer to the center of the island. Push a sofa around, maybe pick up a table and chairs- that would be it. Since it looked like a nap wasn’t going to happen, he considered something from the market that would tide him over when they were done and then he would go for a run later. That would be the best case scenario.

Chris knew which way to look before Iris spoke up and had noticed the figure of Izabel Perkins moving through the flora with a purposeful stride. He’d also noticed Eloy’s truck yet again at the small B&B when they landed which gave him a little smirk and a similar snort of amusement. A small town was easy to see from the air and a small town on an island was even easier. He held the envelope up as a greeting, though he could tell she looked a little annoyed, which usually meant a guest was being difficult. “Got somethin’ for ya.” He said, relaxed. They were cordial enough to be beyond formal greeting and the envelope was handed off no differently than a homework assignment being passed in class. “I was up north this morning and checked the box.” He said, referring to Azul’s Mexpost mail locker in Cancun that he normally collected on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Whatever it was, she was getting it a day early and was important enough for her to come out in hopes of it. Chris tried his best to never intentionally glean anything from the contents of the mail, though often it was unavoidable. He also didn’t partake in a lot of gossip; just between the view and the mail, very little escaped his notice and he kept it to himself.

“This is Iris,” He said, giving his accompaniment a glance. There may have been a tiny upward arc on the corner of his mouth at the introduction that only she could see. The two women didn’t seem to know each other and since Iris didn’t immediately divulge her preferred nickname, he didn’t freely give it. An idea was forming and he wanted to test how fast the Coconut Telegraph would work. Iris was pretty sharp, so he was reasonably sure she would catch on and go with it: “We’re going up to town to see about a house,” He said, letting the statement hang for just a second before before looking fully back at Izabel. “Everything good with you?”

@Fading Memory@Sadie

AZUL Islands - Drama, Romance, Mystery, Slice of Life

Chris MacDonald

Flying from Isla Ramilo to the main island was about like moving a car down the block. Freshly caffeinated and with the engine still warm, Chris was back in the air albeit a little uneasy about the revelation that Jewel was not visiting, but was potentially here to stay. He knew the real reason why even though her family did not exactly say the words and the implications were hard not to think about. For most of his life he’d been out of the cliques wherever he lived and being an outsider had its perks. However if events unfolded a certain way, he’d have to choose whether or not to stay in the background and be Azul’s leisurely delivery pilot, or maybe be part of something bigger. At thirty-six he was gradually accepting he was running out of time and opportunities to change his course, or mind.

Fortunately, there was enough distraction again sitting in his right seat. When they finished coffee and Chris expected to make his way home for the day, Iris had suddenly declared she needed to get to the main island and make sure her house hadn’t been “taken over by dust bunnies” and clean it. Bizarre as it was, they were off again and Isla Zafrio was passing by on the port wing while the sun dipped a little lower in the west. Chris pointed out a few things that had changed since she had last been on the island, but mostly things that had stayed the same. They did a short circuit while Chris scanned for other air traffic, which was rare, though he had seen a helicopter parked on one of the old baseball fields recently. The floats touched down south of the marina past the regular stand of white boat masts.

The dock that accommodated the plane and the MacDonald’s “residence” was most notably marked by a small radio tower and like most of the permanent dwellings, was set on the western side of the island rather than facing the year round beating of the Atlantic. There were two small cottages on the property, almost identically laid out; one set on the beachfront and the other directly adjacent to an unnamed packed sand road that stretched away from the island center. Chris’ parents had the beachfront. Various pieces of hanging art and chimes drifted in the breeze and all was shaded in palms and wild green fauna with a tidy little “backyard” that would be pressed to host more than ten. Repeating the same steps from earlier, Chris shut down and drifted up to the dock, this time angling his drift so Iris’ side would be on the dock and she could get out without having to walk across the floats.

As he opened the door to help Iris out again, it occurred to him, a nagging feeling, that it was nice to have a passenger in the front seat for a change and that going other places with said company might be alright… however he smacked the eject button on that thought almost as quickly as it came up and his passenger’s ample frame hopped down to the dock. He wiped a hand over his face and knelt to tie the plane down again, glancing up towards his parents’ house as his hands went through the motions with the rope by memory. He didn’t think they were home and that would be a good thing for him arriving with a girl, particularly with the last name Cardenas. He shook his head and reached up behind Iris’ seat and retrieved a large document envelope and his current logbook to finish off the entries for the day.

“I gotta give this envelope to the neighbors and then we can take you to your house.” He said, holding up the envelope and nodding towards the south. Housing was much more sparse in the southern tip of the island and within the steady curve of the beach there was only one larger property visible. The label on the envelope was addressed to Whispering Waves. Being an off day for the mail, he still checked the postage locker in Cancun while he waited for Iris’ flight not expecting anything and only found the one parcel. With this done and Iris also delivered for the second time, he thought he might finally get some food and a decent nap.

@Days@PrinceAlexus@Sadie@Fading Memory