It was around noon and the ocean's morning chill was just about fading. The sun, high overhead and clouds just crawling over the ocean's horizon, nature organized itself for a nice afternoon. The sounds of a bustling city almost would feign that the city wasn't in peril danger and that it was mostly destroyed -- but, sawdust does have a nice scent. Nearby the ocean was a small park, saved from destruction mostly because of its lack building but also its small size as a whole. The park consisted of a couple benches and a hunched over pine tree, there were a few children and their guardians, with dogs free to roam the park.
Arete felt the need to sit in this park, coming from his comfy, previous loitering spot, a metal fence overlooking the bay. He strode over, relinquishing in the warm weather and his lazy gait, eventually twisting his way to a bench, sitting himself onto it. Maybe he'll even roam the remains of the shopping center and go on a small spree before returning to his travels. Pushing his thoughts away, he sat down onto the bench and released a deep exhale, fluttering his eyes shut. For a moment, at least: he whipped out a rectangle-shaped lacrima and started tapping wildly onto it. Reminiscent of the teenagers of the real world, he held it out onto an angle and starting taking pictures of himself, the sunset, whatever. If you want to keep a cult following, you have to keep your status updated, he justified his shallow actions. He let out a stifled laugh as he swiped through the many pictures he took, looking for the perfect one. (280)