[ how many times has it been now? that powder has hurt vi through gesture alone? the slap, the cower, now the blatant disregard of her offered hand. keep it together. you’re stronger than this. vi pep talks and stubbornly keeps her smile from flinching into a frown, all the while swallowing through the disappointment. silently, her hand swings to her side as she watches powder fiddle with her… fucking massive guns. why does her sister have those things? more concerning, how does she handle them with such ease? for half a breath there, vi is tempted to offer carrying one; they have to be heavy, right? but then there’s a hand being thrust toward her and –

oh.

a kernel of hope warms the center of her chest and spreads outward, making the tightness ease for an easier, next breath. she grasps powder’s hand and pulls her up. ]

Over there. [ she tips her head on a nod, up the beach toward what has to be the town. the ferris wheel is difficult to miss, so with that one clue, it’s enough to take a guess that it’s some sort of carnival set up on the boardwalk, though the distance is still stretched far enough that vi can't pick apart specifics. ]

Seems like there’s something going on… but no one will interrupt us. [ they’ll find a nice bench. or vi will clear out a tent. or they’ll go further. just – they need to get away from this beach.

she gives powder’s hand a squeeze, still not having let go. ]

You just keep holding onto my hand and no one will separate us.