James/Ceres
James liked these beach days that came around occasionally. He was more accustomed to rolling hills or thick forests, but the ocean had its own wild beauty. He couldn't help but to particularly admire its mood when it was storm-tossed, grey, and wild. But even today, when the sun was blinding off of white sand and turquoise waves, there was something about the way the water stretched to the horizon and line between air and water were indiscernible. However, he wasn't here to admire the beauty. Not at this moment, anyway.
While the mages' palings were generally a mystery and treasure to behold, there was something to be said for brute force. It was tangible, of course, and James was much more accustomed to trusting himself to what he could see and touch. Having no magical inclinations himself, and being from an area with far less magical prowess, James had something of... not distrust, but perhaps, doubt, when it came to magical protections. Thus far, they had served him well when those with such abilities fought beside him, but he couldn't help but to wonder what would happen when they did fail. If a physical protection failed, it was far easier for him to figure a way to repair it. What would happen if a magical protection failed?
In any case, James was sweltering in his gear, clearly not made for patrolling a beach (even if his gear was far lighter than what many others from the FG wore), when he noticed a familiar form doing the same. She must be on the shift that overlapped and followed his. "Ceres," he said in greeting when they were close enough to speak politely.