Welcome to Gaia! ::

How all the energy and eagerness the girl seemed to have possessed on their walk back to the dorms, it had all drained away in the shower along with the salt and grim from her skin and hair. By the time she'd returned to her room she was yawning, have working lazily to tame long hair into a long, loose braid.

She'd also picked shorts and a soft shirt, but her's were boy shorts, and a butter soft tank top that accentuated long legs a and thin waist. She had the deminsions of healthier version of a model. One that actually ate.

Sleep had sucked her under quickly. A combination of exhaustion paired with Zane's warm weight curled against her back, his breath against the back of her neck. When he started to wake, Soliel was still lost to the world, body pump against his, and breathing even.

It was the mall prodding, thoughts not her own, that finally managed to break through. Puzzling at first, until the warm weight of Zane's arm helped her recall the mission, Atlantis, and after. Creased brows smoothed, eyes cracking open just as the redhead was drawing away to sit up with the accompaniment of protesting joints.

"Je pense que tu es vraiment un vieil homme, écoute tes os craquer..." She trailed off in a yawn, and that turned into a groan as she rolled, long body arching in a statisfying stretch that went from fingertips Steve to her toes.

Another yawn, and she'd sit up as well, only to let gravity carry her all the way over to drape across Zane's lap. "Quelle heure, ah, what time is it?" He mind didn't always work in English right off the bat when she woke up, but she tried.

With a frown she glanced at the window, the late evening semi darkness pressing against the glass. "Too late for dinner?"

Well, if trying to scrounge up food was Zane's plan, he was going about it all wrong. His hand trailing up along her back to settle at the nape of her neck made her shiver, and then go altogether boneless with a soft, appreciative moan, her voice muffled and lazy. "Pardon, it just falls out." Thoughtless and automatic.

"Mmm, maybe." She wasn't as hungry as he was, and the sound of his stomach grumbling made her laugh, and she nudged at his side with her elbow. "I hear they serve food at that bar in town, too? That angry dude from the mission owns it, or whatever." She wrinkled her nose at the memory of him. Very unpleasant first impression.

"I think I do. I haven't been here long, so I wasn't getting leave, or pay, until this month." And now a bonus as well, not just more leave, but an impressive five thousand dollars. Soleil grinned, head turning just enough for her to peek up at him through the film of dark bangs that had managed to escape the braid as they slept. "Did you have somewhere in mind?"

So his main desires for the moment were food, and getting off the island. Soleil considered that for a long moment in silence, just enjoying the feel of his fingers sliding through her hair and along her skin. It felt so good. Even as an idea began to form she was loathed to declare it, knowing it could very well put an end to the delightful attention.

However temporary that end might be, she hoped.

"Well, if we're thinking of shitty bar food, it should be worth the trip, non?" Reluctantly he turned, rolling into her shoulders were hanging off his thigh and her back was arched across his back. It put a stop to the massaging, but if she hadn't done it now, she'd have laid there happily all night.

It was only now that she was seeing him after their little nap, and dark brows arched as she took in the fluffed state of his hair, and a highly amused smile stretched along full lips before she was biting the lower to keep from laughing.

With very obvious and exaggerated reluctance Soleil finally rose up to her feet, bouncing once on her toes with an upward reach if arms before crossing the room to open her closet. There wasn't much inside, but she hadn't had a chance to go shopping yet, and there had only been so much room in the bag she'd packed when she and Luna had left home.

Now, a thoughtful look of consideration in pretty features, she leaned heavily against the door as she looked over her options. "Have you heard of poutine? Or tried it before?" Lips split in a bright grin as she glanced back at him. "I was thinking, if we were going to a bar, why not one somewhere else?"

They could go to Canada, somewhere more English speaking friendly, and she could introduce him to the absolute best pub food her Homeland had to offer.

"And I don't know, but we can find out. Worst to worst we go to the one here, oui?"

"Poutine? It's ******** amazing." She turned, a long tunic style tp in her hand. "Sid things is awful, but he's crazy. You'll love it." It was said with unshakable confidence, and the effort was made to keep her mind from feeling in the delicious pub delicacy, so she wouldn't run the surprise.

She would giving a curious look though, head tilting. "Not that we're headed there, but why not the States?"

Half a second of waiting before she decided she could change while they talked, and she drew her tank top over her head, revealing there to be nothing beneath it. Shameless, but why wouldn't she be if they were more or less keeping company now. From the top drawer of her dresser she drew out a Lacey bralette and drew it over her head. From the bottom drawer, a pair of thicker leggings and long socks.

I saw that, her thoughts purred through his head, followed by audible laughing as she stepped into her leggings and shimmied them up her thighs. It was a satisfying thing, a stroke to her ego and her confidence, but did very little for her patience.

"Ohhh, that's right, the drinking age in America is twenty one." She'd forgotten. Not just because she didn't live there, and it was a non-issue, but because it seemed very stupid to her. "Well, it won't matter, where we're going."

Soliel pulled the tunic over her head, dug out a light, plaid scarf from the depths of her bag, and drew a heavy jacket from the back of the closet. This time of year, it'd be chilly. She definitely didn't need the coat here, but it'd come in handy for leave or missions.