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Valerie watched, perched on a bench on a sidewalk near the port harbor, as the waves broke on the sandy beach. Small little waves, the wind not strong, leaving the sand wet and pliable where the water had been before retreating for another attempt at breaking into white foam. The girl knew that she could sit there and watch 'till the end of days and never get bored. She's always loved the sea. Looking up from the waves, she spotted a new boat had pulled in, new since the last time she had looked, anyway. As much as she loved the sea, she couldn't think of getting into one of those boats and sail off. The motion sickness, for one, would probably kill her, if her home sickness didn't kill her before then.

There didn't seem to be a lot of people getting off, Valerie observed, and watched them as they did. Most of them didn't have a lot of luggage, except one. A boy, in his early twenties she thought him to be, tried to pull one of his cases on the white sand, and when that didn't work, ditched it and carried on. Valerie smiled softly. She wondered whether she should maybe go help him (he was handsome in any case, so really, what was the harm?) but she didn't wonder for long, standing up from her bench and made her way over, the bottom of her combat boots light as a cat's paws on the sand.

"Hey," she said, uncharacteristically not shy, with a soft smile to boot. She was always shy, but he was a completely new person, and he needed help, so tough. "Need a hand?" Eyeing the bags he had with him, she figured she'd be able to hold on to them for him while he went to get that other one of his. That was the plan, anyway. Never quite know how strangers would react.

It wasn't always all that quiet on the beach near the harbor, but the sun was hiding behind the clouds, and that usually meant that people stayed clear. What was the fun of going to the beach when it wasn't sunny? Valerie, though, loved it like that, because it was quiet; no bikini clad girls, or loud children, just the sound of the waves without the sun blinding you. That being said, Valerie really wasn't the normal eighteen year old. For example; any other heterosexual girl her age would probably gush and fumble over the handsome stranger, but she liked books, not boys, and mostly happiness and not heartbreak.

She smiled as he complained about how cases should have bigger wheels, but he looked up and returned the smile, accepting her offer for help. Good, so she didn't look like a thief. Not that people often suspected thin ginger teenager girls of stealing things. Well, not always. "Sure," she agreed cheerfully, taking a particularly heavy looking bag from him. "I won't steal anything, I promise. I don't even think I could - this weighs a ton," she joked before holding out her hand for the other things, the bag, even though it was heavy, not seeming to much of a burden on her.

Valerie had taken a gamble walking up to the boy like that - she didn't know him, so he could have been the biggest douche on the planet but that, thankfully, was not the case. He seemed nice and she honestly could not tell how old he was. It could be anything from sixteen to twenty-six, so she hadn't a clue what to think on that point, but he was obviously old enough to travel, so that was good.

"That's the lighter one. This one's not much better, to be honest."

She laughed softly. "I'm not a porcelain doll, I can manage it," she said, smiling as she grabbed the carry bag from him, no having reassured him she wouldn't try and run for it. Where would she even run? It was a small island. "Go on, then, before somebody else actually does steal that." Valerie gestured with her red haired head and a smile to the other bag, there waiting for him.

Unlike Raphael, Valerie had lived on that island her whole life. She knew every nook and cranny (as she had explored most of it, either as herself or as her fluffy counterpart) and had seen her fair share of tourists visit, but she had hardly ever approached them like she had now. Maybe leaving school gave her a bit of confidence? Just maybe.

"Yes, boss." He gave her a salute and a nickname, so she laughed, watching as he then made his way to his bag. Valerie liked funny people, and it seemed he was one of them. That suspicion was justified when Val had to try her absolute best not to laugh hysterically at his limping figure as he tried to make do with his briefcase. "Next time I travel I'm finding somewhere with an airport. That or I ditch some stuff before I leave."

She raised an eyebrow, now having thrown one of his bags over her shoulders to hold it more comfortably. "Thinking about leaving already? You just arrived and we're not all that bad," she told him, smiling and realizing she still didn't know his name. "Oh, I'm Valerie, by the way, it's nice to meet you. And your bags. I'd shake your hand but..." she let the heavy bags and the smile on her lips do the speaking, although she had no idea of letting them go. She was here to help after all. And he was better conversation than she had thought she'd get; he'd made her smile, after all, and brought out the side of her that made others smile as well. "Where are you headed with all this? Any hotel in particular or just thinking about slumming it under a bridge?"

Valerie had never set foot off that island - oh, how much she would want to, but she knew she would miss home and she positively hated boats, and as there wasn't an airplane on the island, it was basically impossible for her to. She knew that if she really, really wanted to go somewhere else, she'd suck it up and go on that boat and withstand any colors she might turn, but dammit, she really didn't like being on the water. Swimming was fine, but she could hardly swim to America. And here he was; a tourist, who found himself somewhere else all the time. 'Raphael' he had called himself. Valerie had never heard that name before...

"A bridge would probably be easier. Are you telling me you actually have a bridge on this little bit of rock?" he asked and she shrugged a shoulder, one of his bags slung over the other. "It's small, and rubbish, but there is one," she told him, before her smile crept up again jonkingly. "I wouldn't recommend it, though. Horrible roommates."

"Rumor has it there's a hotel here somewhere. I'll settle for staying anywhere, truthfully. It's only day one, I just work it out as I go along." 

"Sounds like fun," she laughed before continuing. "It's down there," she gestured with to the town she knew as good as she knew the back of her hand, the same free one she used to gesture to it. "Come on, then, I did promise a hand, didn't I?" she smiled, making to turn and walk to the hotel, bags in hand. As an added thought, she added; "Think you'll be staying here long enough to rent a place?"

"But the company is what keeps life interesting."

Valerie laughed softly. She supposed that was true; if he hadn't shown up on that boat, she'd still be sat on that bench by the beach, time ticking away without anything of significance happening. As interesting as the breaking of waves were, a nice conversation was just as good. Especially an intelligent, fun conversation, without any awkwardness of stupidity. She had to say, she was glad she had stumbled upon one. "Wise words, Raphael," she said lightly, and thought that she needed a nickname for him if she was going to see him often; 'Raphael' didn't exactly roll off the tongue, so to speak. "Now, as a man who covets company, how come you travel alone?" she asked, and considered it to be a fair question, even if it was a slightly teasing one.

"I might. I have done before. It just depends on what I can find around here, you know? But a hotel is always the best place to start."

She thought she ought not mention the fact that she had never stayed in an hotel in her entire life; she never needed to. "It's a good hotel, I've heard, so you're not too bad off for a silly old island like this." Valerie wondered what it felt like, going wherever you wanted - which reminded her; she really ought to ask why he had come here, of all places, but it didn't seem like the right time. He spoke again and she turned her attention to that instead. "C'mon, pass one of those bags back. I appreciate the help but I can't make you carry both of those."

She sent him a playful glare that said 'I want to help, even if I am a girl with thin arms', but passed him the lightest of the two bags back (hah) and held the other one in front of her, both hands supporting it now so that it really wasn't all that heavy, and she could walk comfortably. 

"New places, new faces. If you're getting a new start somewhere why take along a person who's going to remind you of all the little things you did wrong in the places before?"

Valerie, again, thought that that must be nice; new places, new faces, not having to be reminded of one's failures in a little place like Tully, where there was hardly anything new to see, and everything had a memory attached to it. Of course, Valerie loved memories, if they were good, and knew of many places that held those memories, but couldn't help but think about one day creating her own memories, all completely new, with new places and new faces.

"It's just easier on your own - it forces you to talk to new people and get involved in things, whereas if you're with someone else it'd be too easy to fall into the habit of spending all your time with that person and never branching out."

More truth. Not that Valerie had a lot of friends, or somebody she spent all her time with, but she hoped for one one day; the familiarity looked nice. But she enjoyed meeting new people too, as much as she thought she would enjoy new places. "It must be nice," she spoke up, finding the words and a soft smile. "Travelling everywhere, I mean. Being able to just escape and meet people you normally wouldn't, do things you wouldn't normally do, things like that."

She nodded in agreement when he said he only needed the basics and laughed at his little 'no backsies' quip. "After you, Valerie the Local." She laughed again, softly and warm, starting to walk. "After me, Raphael the Tourist." 

The two of them slowly making their way up the cobbled road to the little town - she often thought it more resembled a village, from what she had seen in pictures. It definitely wasn't a city, that she had also gathered from pictures, because none of the buildings here reached that high. She looked up quickly, as if imagining them there, but seeing only cloudy sky. But even that wasn't all that bad to her; she was happy with what she could get out of life, always wondering if there was more to it, but never finding the courage - or the opportunity - to reach out for more.

"Why come here, though?" she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.