( it's not exactly the hippest spot on the block, but kimberly's got a lot to be grateful for these days, and color has never been a thing she's shied away from. she spends a full afternoon at the arts and crafts table, painstakingly decorating a full-sized white lantern with abstract patterns in five specific colors, the occasional silver and black lightning bolt dotted between. headphones remain lodged in her ears while she works, head bobbing along to the beat even as her mouth purses in concentration; plenty of less-focused artisans come and go while she remains at the table, and it's only when kimberly's finally satisfied that she pushes away from the table, once-white lantern now covered with colorful decorations across every available square inch of space.

feel free to join her, so long as you don't try to steal her markers, or just share your commentary on her artistic choices.

later that night, she ventures back to the beach on her scooter, lantern carefully tucked between her knees as she navigates through the streets. there's a larger crowd near the boardwalk, gathered around a collection of professionally decorated lanterns, but she opts instead to linger on the beachfront where it's a bit quieter; it gives her opportunity to enjoy the sounds of the waves as they crash against the sand, wading in to let the surf lap at her bare feet, up to her ankles, and to watch from afar as the crowd lights their lanterns in unison, sending them up into the sky where they float for a while before burning up over the water. )

It's pretty, isn't it, ( kimberly murmurs to no one in particular, still unlit lantern clutched in her hands. ) I... probably should have brought a lighter.

( you don't happen to have one, do you? if not a lighter, perhaps you've got another idea on how to launch this thing? )

( the togetherness tent, unsurprisingly, appeals quite strongly for kimberly. she doesn't hesitate to sprawl out, carving herself a comfortable spot on a particularly large ottoman in the outdoor seating area, perfectly positioned for chatting with anyone who passes by or comes to sit. should you not want to join her on her ottoman, there are plenty of couches and chairs within reach, and those that are too far are easy enough to pull across the grass.

when conversations take a lull, kimberly wanders over towards the bar, where the large menu absorbs her attention for minutes at a time. should someone sidle up next to her, she'll smile, closing the menu with a soft thump. ) There's too many choices. What are you getting? ( really, she'll probably just get something fruity, some girly drink that tastes more like its mixer than its booze, but suggestions are always appreciated.

but as far as the snack bar and tempting private tents are concerned... well, that'll have to wait for the right company. she's been promised an evening of exploration, but the other details are still a mystery for her at the moment. ghost rider, where are you hiding? )

( ain't nobody got time to literally write up every starter under the sun, even though i really really wanted to. kimberly will happily accompany you just about anywhere in the festival that you'd like to go, so feel free to wildcard me — snack carts, clothing drive (it should be gross but, you know what, she's heard thrift shop. if macklemore can rock it, so can kimberly hart) or wherever you wanna be! or, y'know, feel free to holler at ya girl if you need to — semicolons or supergirl#2740. let's be weird. )