Your OC is stuck on an island with the above OC.

She had gone to bed in silk sheets and a large tapestry hung over her bed. It had been one her Father had made. Oh, her Father of all people. She still liked it though, it had been painted in gorgeous oil colors of reds, golds and blue. It was the blue paint she liked especially in it. She remembered her maid, Claire, telling her that the paints had been made with rocks that were found near the sea, crushed for hours, to make only a teaspoon worth. 

When I pictured a beach, I certainly didn't imagine this.

It was dirty, the water especially. Who would ever purposefully enter water that had bits of debris floating? Frankly, seeing those images of children playing in water made her question whether what she was looking at was even a beach at all. But that quickly dissipated as a concern as she stood up, brushing the sand from her dress.

She gasped at the sight of him. A man, likely rich at least from his attire, on this pitiful excuse for a beach alongside her. Where was she, and who was he? Various questions floated in her mind as she tried to ignore the horrific smell of the ocean. At that moment, she decided she disliked the ocean a great deal. 

"Goodness..." Eleanora said partially to herself, although she did expect the man- no, boy- to hear. With a small exhale, she glanced at the child, giving a small smile once more, "Are you, alright dear? Are you lost? Perhaps we shall find your parents?"

"Augh, this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here," Mr. TV griped while shaking sand off his pant leg. He came up with a brilliant idea to strand a lucky someone on an island while he recorded it. Documentaries were big! Documentaries with danger? Now that was revolutionary. So obviously, this was a great idea! But the moment the helicopter flew away Mr. TV realized an unfortunate thing: his head's a tv. And he's surrounded by nature. Sand wouldn't just get all over his clothes, it would get inside his head and in all those wires! So would water and even BUGS! The clock was definitely ticking, but on HIM!
"C'mon, c'mon, Dollface, let's get a move on!" he ushered frantically, a handheld camcorder in one hand. "Let's find a way off this island before I rust!" Now that he thought about it, Eleanora was cute as a button and sweet as pie, she sure was, but maybe she wasn't cut out for being stranded on an island. She didn't look like she knew what to do, not like he was better. Well great. If they made it out - and only if! - a documentary of a cute cat maid alone on an island would make MILLIONS. But that was one big if.

Two lawful neutrals on an island... One is a mercenary, one is a scientist. What could go wrong?

That was what M. Pourife thought as he attempted to start a fire, albeit in vain. He reckoned that it was for warmth, even when the stranger cowered at the first - and only - spark that came out of the middle-aged man's attempts. This fear... It reminded him of an intern of his, although his name escaped the scientist's conscience at the moment. Even the other party's coolness towards him didn't seem to be all too intimidating or unfamiliar, because that intern also had a similar demeanor. Well, at least until the topic of science was brought up.

"Oxidation is what is required to both cook food and drive away wild animals," he once stated in a futile shot at a conversation. Sure, he meant it to nobody in particular, but the fact that his words were echoed to himself ended up hurting. Just slightly. But not as much as his hands, which were a bit sore from all that rubbing... A match would have been so much easier... He furrowed his brows and stood himself up, abruptly kicking at the wood he had earlier tried to ignite.

Mumbling to himself, M. Pourife then looked up at the trees... The canopy... It was admittedly all quite beautiful, and if it weren't for the fact that he didn't have an easy escape route, he'd be able to just marvel at the foliage for hours. A hand went through one of his pockets, almost as if he wanted to take out a notepad and start writing notes, but then he realized... That pocket was completely empty - with the exception of a piece of lint that he quickly plucked and threw away as hard as he could. Why? Because why not. (He really wished he could've come up with a more scientific hypothesis in this moment.)

Oh great, guess forest-watching is out of the equation. Huh.

With some hesitance, the older man looked at the kenokai's sword before asking, "Do... Do you use that thing for hunting?" You know, despite the blade being far too long to slice or impale any potential food source. "Because I do think some meat would be adequate right now." What does he think he wants? A cookout? (That was going to get awkward fast.) He folded his hands together, scanning the other party's expression as he anticipated a reaction. Or none at all. Who knew. "Though... At the same time... I have no idea if anything on this island is really worth much in terms of meat..."

oh Heck Yea it's a semi-quick follow-up:

"Oh dear."

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear," was all that she could spit out.

Upon first waking up, Murdina could tell something was wrong. She quickly assessed her surroundings, gritting sand between her teeth as she moved frizzy hair out of her face. Upon feeling the warm grains of sand sinking between her fingers and the crash of the waves on her ears, her heart stopped. She was by the ocean. After nearly a decade of being away from it, she was not quite ready for a surprise reintroduction. "Is anyone there?" the merperson called out, trying to distract herself from her quickly growing anxiety. After seeing a head pop up in the distance, she began to limp her way over to them. She was not used to the instability of the beach turf, falling into a face full of sand a number of times. "Just keep moving to them," she continued to think to herself, the mental mantra repeating over and over.

She continued to call out questions, all of which went unanswered. These questions, such as "Are you okay?" and "Is anyone else here?" were responded with stony silence, much to the selkie's chagrin. Upon reaching the beach mate, she was a little put-off. She was greeted by the figure, who had a handful of wild-berries and a stick embedded into the sand. Next to the half-buried stick was "Luxidlv" scrawled into the damp soil. "Luxidlv?" Murdina inquired incredulously, never hearing a name quite like that before. With that, the presumable holder of the name shot out their hand expectantly. After a small courteous handshake, the mer looked around again, clutching her cape tightly as the pit in her stomach grew. She knew she could just hop into her seal skin and be on her way, but she couldn't just leave someone here by themselves. She sighed and grabbed a nearby branch, beginning to chip away at it with a small dagger she kept strapped to her side. 

"Alright then, not a huge talker. I can get that. However, you still have that mouth to eat at least, so let's learn a little bit of spearfishing, hmm?" She gave a small, half convincing smile, trying not to show her own worry to her new-found survivalist.

--------

Reserved for follow-up, haha

Roy slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the harsh sunlight he was met with. Holding a hand up to shade his face, he sat up. His other hand went to the ground to feel a soft cushion of sand. He looked down, then to the side. A beach? He looked the opposite end. Trees. Wildlife. No sight of a city. An island? He pulled up one knee and sighed. This was his fault, wasn't it? He remembered trying to use his new powers to move around quicker, but he must have overshot it. Well, not must of, he did.
Hearing a voice nearby, Roy looked over to see a woman walking around while clutching her cape. A pang of guilt hit him. Did she accidentally get dragged away with him? He got up and quickly hurried to her. "Hey, are you okay?" After a brief exchange, he nodded at her. "Murdina. Okay, nice to meet you. I'm sorry you got caught up in this." He looked around, purple eyes slowly moving to the shadows the trees cast. Maybe... "I'm going to try to get us out of here. It might send us somewhere else, but I feel like anything's better than a stranded island."
He closed his eyes to try and see through the shadows. Where was a good landing spot... Huh? A... hatchery? That seemed to be where the shadows wanted him to go. 

She sat, wide eyed as she glanced at the man near her. "Old" she thought aloud, her voice soft and hollow. "It can't be helped" was all she said before helping herself up, lending a hand to the seemingly elderly man. Her eyes squinted as she scanned through the small holes of her mask, she couldn't waste time worrying, risk having her judgement clouded. She took action immediately as she searched the island for any food, or clean water sources. Possibly a safe shelter that wouldn't need to be built, considering she wasn't very strong herself and the old man couldn't be of much use.

She sighed, turning to face the man. "Do you know any survival tactics?" She asked.

'WeLl wElL" Vashni glanced up at the masked girl, a wide grin plastered on their face. "NOw, wHat a lOvEly giRl yoU aRe~ ANd a vEry dElicIoUs oNe, tOo, I bEt!" The golem giggled, their eyes fixated on Elyn. "BUt now iSn't tHe tIMe to dWell On suCh tHinGs, dOn't You tHiNk sO, giRl? WE'd beTteR huRry uP, aDd finD the wAy to leAvE tHis islAnD as sOoN as posSiblE, I hAve An apPreNticE whO is undoUBteDly loOkIng for tRoubLes whIlE wE are iDlY chaTtiNg hEre.." Vashni's voice was getting gloomier and gloomier with each word pronounced. It wasn't like them at all to get all that serious and rational. Were it not for Amabelle, the girl they were in charge of, they would definitely not waste a chance to enjoy their time on the island. The golem sighed. "WEll, cHOp chOp, GiRl! We cAn't allOw oUrsElvEs to wAsTe aNy mOre tiMe!" Vashni turned away from Elyn heading towards the deeper part of the island. Ugh kids these days.. They thought while glancing back to check if the girl was following them. Getting creepier and creepier  every century..

Walker thought she could smell death when she looked over at the man, partially because it made her feel so dizzy and partially because... Well... Something about him didn't seem trustworthy. Warily, she clutched her hands close to her chest as she looked down at the sand, that damn obnoxious sand. It got into her shoes, her feet, her clothes... Its method of infiltration was quite insidious, just like how she kept thinking about death when she least wanted it.

The aristocrat looked back at the other party. Did her eyes evoke pity? Or disdain? Either way, it most likely wasn't flattering for either party. But you know what did suit both of them? How awkward the entire situation was. For the past few minutes or so, they had both been complaining - though not necessarily to each other - about how degrading the sand and the sea breeze were for their clothes and their overall appearance. Their irritation, unfortunately, soon faded, and the only parties left now were two people and maybe a passing bird.

"I do not think you expected to get stuck on an island this time, hm?" Walker quipped to the undead entity quietly, her tone slightly accented with contempt. It would've been funny if it weren't for her sheer hypocrisy, but... Alas. Her expression remained stone cold as she glanced down to the sand and kicked it, making sure a handful of it was tossed up in the air with her shoe. Later, she'd gripe over how so much granules were in her shoes, and this poor fellow would be her only witness. As for now, she continued with a shrug, "Then again, neither did I. That... That is just how it is, huh? You always get stuck in the most bizarre of situations when you least expect it... It is like life wants to spit at your face, with no remorse whatsoever."

She couldn't help but shudder as she thought, Though it is not like I can just disclose everything I know to a stranger... The gentle lapping of waves against the shore could be heard as the woman started to trace her foot in the sand. Sunlight stung at her eyes occasionally, but it wasn't really an issue anymore considering that it was going to set soon. Speaking of setting, there was also the lingering, nagging feeling that... Well... How could she articulate it? Mortality? Walker sighed as her lips curled into a pout. I am sure that this fellow knows what death is like, but... She tiled her head. How could discussion be possible? Our experiences are likely different, and there is the chance that one is too stubborn to yield...

"Do... Do you have anyone that you wait for, back on the mainland?" she asked. The complete change in subject didn't faze her at the moment, but it certainly would later on. Time was of the essence, the middle-aged woman reckoned, but at the same time, it didn't really matter right now. Just as long as I get out of here sooner rather than later... She cleared her throat before quietly stating, "You know... I have a husband and son... Back there... Well, my son does not live with me right now... But my husband?" Walker trembled as that last word wavered. "He... He is probably searching... I sure hope so, at the very least..."

yeehaw it's semi-late follow-up time.

Amelia sat hiding in a bush holding her breath. First, she woke up on a mysterious island in the middle of no where. And now she had found a dinosaur! She found it while exploring the island. It surprised her so much that she ran away and hid. She didn't even look back to see if it followed. Amelia doesn't know a lot about dinosaurs but she was hoping at most that it wouldn't hurt her. She peeked outside the bush and saw that the cost was clear. With a relived sigh, she turned to leave.

And then she screamed. The dinosaur was right in front of her! She broke a branch off a nearby tree and waved it in the air. "S-stay back!" she wailed. Though up close the dinosaur didn't look all that threatening. She gently put down the branch.

"Ah... A friendly one, are we?" she asked. "Th-that's good... Let's be friends and find a way out of here..." 

Hayes didn't have much of a brain, so he didn't have much of a memory. So he didn't question it when he found himself in an entirely new area. No large buildings or fast-moving blocks of steel, just a bunch of trees and sand. But more importantly, it was land. Land that needed protecting.
Hayes swung his head to the side to see someone else here, someone calling for help. A bunny...? Bunnies ate up grass. But... she didn't look completely like a bunny. She looked like a person too. Did she own this land?
"You," he said and wobbled over towards her, his arms swinging at his side. "You own. Land? This land? You are. Farmer? Land. Is very. Nice. Needs protection. I can. Protect it. From crows. And bugs. And. People. Bad people. I will. Protect land. For you."
It seems he would never truly grasp the situation.

Hayes spun around when hearing the voice, but before he could even register the words, Shadow Boss burst in to protect him. It's difficult to tell if he was aware of what was happening, but there was SOME consciousness as he waddled towards the burly demon. "Friend," he rasped. Only one word, but a new one, and one he associated Shadow Boss with.
The two looked at Lucanus when he invited them to his manor. He would have ignored the comment had he not heard that golden word: land. "Land," he repeated. "Land? You have. Land? That. Needs protecting?" He shuffled towards the young man. "I will. Help. Help protect. Land." He looked at Shadow Boss. "We help. Friend help."

Lucanus removes his sweater vest and neatly hangs it over a somewhat clean looking rock. If it falls onto the sand, it'll take forever to clean it all out. He doesn't really remember what led up to this strange island, though he doesn't seem to be worried. Weird things happen all the time, and if he's gone for too long someone is bound to come looking for him. In fact, Lucanus is quite enjoying his short time spent on this island. It's much different compared to the scenery he's been surrounded by for years. The heat from the sun on his skin is lovely to the man who can never get warm enough back in his home. 

He notices the scarecrow a tad bit late, but once his eyes finally fall upon the outstanding being in the sand he can't tear his gaze away from it. It is a scarecrow, indeed, but it is sentient. It wobbles as it walks, and some part of Lucanus immediately feels pity for it. Though, that isn't an abnormal sensation; anything that is inhuman instantly gains a soft spot in Lucanus. He approaches cautiously, unsure if the thing is hostile or not. Scarecrows don't belong on islands, at least Lucanus doesn't think so. But neither does he. 

The wobbling of a scarecrow reminds him of a colt on wobbling knees. Naturally, Lucanus wonders if he'd be able to take this supernatural being home with him. He's not knowledgeable of sentient scarecrows, but he wouldn't mind learning.

"Hello." He calls softly, warmly, close enough to a kindergarten teacher speaking to a pupil. "Excuse me, do you know where we are? It seems I don't remember how I got here, but this isn't my home at all. Would you mind helping me?"