#haborym

Sure, she could just rent out a board like a normal person, and use it to show everyone what the People of the Springs taught her in the art of surfing,

"WOOOHOOOOOOO!!"

but where's the fun in that, when she can just surf on the Flamestrider instead?

Her hair ablaze, Mavuika catches the wave and blasts across the waves, splashing the water all around, her excited voice echoing through the air. She's having so much fun, it takes her a bit too long to notice she may have knocked someone behind her off-balance.

Realization dawning on her, she turns back, her vehicle riding on the water with the same ease as it would on soil, approaching the person she had glimpsed earlier and taking off her helmet as she does.

"Whoops, sorry! I got a bit carried away, haha. You okay, I hope? Want a ride to the shore?"

WHY IS IT ALWAYS JOYRIDERS, atleast Bronya had once had the good sensibility to ensure Bunny was unable to knock Humans into the water whenever they were testing the capabilities of the core's projections, no, the Herrscher has a far, far simpler method of dealing with the figure who had so rudely knocked him from the board. It'd originally been a prototype that never made its way to market all those years ago, and yet replicating the technology he'd helped design is easy enough, letting the board and the tide do the work as he gives chase.

"When one insists on riding such a mechanical monstrosity, one should be able to remain aware of their surroundings." There's a fury to be found in his voice as he leans upon the divine key, waiting for the water droplets on his skin to evaporate under the noon sun. It's only when he finds himself sufficiently drier that he is in any way willing to cast his gaze onto the figure before him, noting the fiery red hair and sighing as the connection is made in his mind.

"Hmm. It's not supposed to do that, is it?"

That, at least, would be the most logical assumption as Mavuika looks at what used to be a marshmallow, but now has transformed into a partially melted and partially torched shapeless mass, slowly dripping down from the stick it used to be attached to.

Perhaps the living flame is a little too much.

Oh, well. Meeting the eyes of her chance companion, Mavuika offers a sheepish smile, putting the ruined snack off to the side.

"Maybe I'll try again with another one. Or maybe you know better how to treat those, Barbatos? I'd hate to waste even more, after all."

There is curiosity in her tone; not just for this delicacy, but also for this breeze in whose presence she now finds herself, of whom she's heard, but never truly known.

Venti glanced at the poor marshmallow sludge, then back at the Pyro Archon. Wow. He didn’t know that marshmallows could look like that. Maybe she wasn’t ready for his secret marshmallow-roasting technique. 

“Ehe… Maybe we can do it the traditional way.” He speared a fresh marshmallow with a skewer and held it over the campfire. “Like this! Classic and reliable. Just make sure to keep an eye on it so it doesn’t get too burnt.”

He smiled encouragingly. As Haborym busied herself with another marshmallow, the smile faded into a more thoughtful expression.

It was unfair to compare the two of them, Venti knew. But as he studied the fiery-haired Natlanese warrior, it was almost impossible not to see the Lionfang Knight, trying to attain a sense of normalcy in the aftermath of a long battle. 

His gaze drifted back to the skewer in his hands. The flames gently licked at the sides of the marshmallow, and the smoke drifted up to the clear evening sky.

"Ah! I was wondering if you'd also come here."

Once that fact is established, Mavuika is not in the slightest surprised that this particular location is where she finds the shaman. Smiling, she passes by her table, finger sliding across the back of her chair as she yes the large board on the wall, and two guys throwing darts at it. One scores pretty well - the other misses his shot completely, and a new hole soon adorns the wall, much to his embarrassment and everyone else's amusement.

Mavuika chuckles, drawing their attention. With a cheeky grin, the unfortunate guy gestures towards the board and hands her a dart. She accepts it, glances at Citlali, shoots her a wink, then back at the board, and throws.

(Roll: 1d20 = 17)

The dart sings a song as it slams into the board, into the circle right next to the center, accompanied by clapping and impressed whistles of the onlookers.

Laughing, Mavuika throws the men a thumbs up, before turning to Citlali again.

"Wanna give it a shot? I can treat you to a drink after."

Sitting comfortably on a stool, Citlali sits with a closed novel, waiting patiently for the staff's attention. Among the clamor and noise, she finds a moment to close her eyes and smiles to herself.

Ahhhh this is exactly what I have been looking for. A nice get away. No responsibility, no whelps looking to challenge me, no one begging for divinations, the perfect vacation. Even here I am no "great sage". Just, Citlali.

But alas, all dreams must end.

"Ah! I was wondering if you'd also come here."

She instinctually straightens her back and opens her eyes again to be greeted by a familiar friendly flame. After witnessing the near flawless performance of the charismatic Mauvika, she cant help but let out a resigned sigh.

"Alright alright. In all my years I have never turned down someone offering me free drinks. You are out of your depth here Mavuika and no not who you challenge. You, over there. Get me a dart."

The poor onlooker, brings a second dart over to her.

(Roll: 1d20 = 4)

In an pure act of undeserved consequences, the dart flies right past the onlooker's ear, nearly grazing them. The dart lands in the center of a sign next to the board that reads, "Holes in the wall will accrue additional fees on your bill when you close out your tab."

“Taste your own Minion!”