Your OC is at the Beach with the One Above You!

Bonbon had finally reached land! Goodness knows how long the mare had been stuck on that raft, but she was back, baby, and she was hungry.

She trotted along the beach, on the prowl for something good to munch on. She huffed quietly, ever now and then lowered her snout to the ground only to get an irritating whiff of sand. No one dared to mention the very obvious horse, however, or attempt to wrangle her, so she was free to do as she pleased. This meant being a pest for certain beach-goers, and specifically one with funky pink hair and a frilly dress. Said beach-goer was relaxing, as they all do, with a slice of vanilla cake before her.

That was what Bonbon wanted. Not at all stealthy, she crept up behind Dawn. She pressed her nose against the back of the stranger's head and puffed out a breath. Her ears stood erect as she glanced back at the cake, and it was then that she, a very greedy animal, wanted whatever this girl was having, and so she bowed her head. Her extremely long and horsey tongue slithered out, then sucked itself back in. And then she opened her mouth and went to town on that cake, despite Dawn's protests. She sucked the slice into her mouth and all was alright with the world.

But, not alright with Dawn.

Bonbon paused and stared at the dia-gem, but was apparently unfazed by the tears forming in her eyes, joined by those miserable little hiccups. Instead, the horse's ears snaked back, and she took a lumbering few steps away from Dawn. Off she went down the sandy coast. She had gotten what she came here for.

What a jerk.

oh god. goodbye, roswell.

--

AHDHGRGEGQ I LOVE HER ^

--

Oh to be on a beach. With a horse. Roswell had imagine it all, him riding a noble stead in his mare bathing suit impressing every mortal (and none mortal), that laid their gaze on the two. Roswell liked status. The horse seemed to like him.
It was a fool proof plan.
Or was it...
The plan went horrible. Roswell hadn't rode a horse in years and his legs were starting to get numb. The poor old man could feel his back begging him to get off, didn't feel his behind for an hour now and had to squint his only eye against the heavy sunbeams that hit him straight in the face. With a frustrated groan, the leidsman accepted his faith.
Roswell fell from Bonbon's back. And felt to the ground as ungraceful as possible.  He laid there, face down in the sand for what seems to be ages. Roswell didn't even reacted when the kind horse started to softly nibble his ear and hair. Sand stinged in his eye. Pricked in his nose and ears. Made his mouth dry. The horse kept nibbling his hair, giving it playful tucks as if it believed it to be some funny tasting grass.
Void, just let me doie here, Roswell thought. There was no way that he could recover from this shameful event. 

--

"Oh oi would never whine, " he said softly. muffeled by sand. Slowly he rolled over in his back, rubbing the sand out of his face. Roswell did whine though, just not here. Back home in his apartment. After finishing one (1) glass of light alcohol while reading a soppy romance novel. Or when he thought of Abigail. Both we'rent pretty. Slowly Roswell sat up straight, rubbed the blood from his still bleeding nose and sand out of his face. He squinted. "But oi do feel dead, or dyin' though, " he said dryly. Roswell smiled at Johnson, missing mollar and all. "Dat would make dis de second toime yer witness my... Demoise, " he said. Recalling the drunk accident prior. The thief now finally moved back to his feet. "Yer've got a job?" He asks. Rubbing the and of his chest. "For me and de hurse? It's not mine by de way, stole it," He frowned. Roswell quickly scanned the beach. His entire posture froze when he saw brown. His jaw tightened. Oh. "Do oi loike a bit..presentable?" He asked Johnson while spreading his sandy arms. Blood still dripping from his nose.

   - I'm.... so sorry for Ros having to deal with Johnson like this..... also I'll just say that Johnson would just take one look at Ros's bloody nose and go "yea you look fine by me (and her) lol" just to watch the chaos unfold. rip everyone involved tbh.

Johnson was supposed to be at the beach to help his friend carry over some fossils from her planned excavation site back to the cart, but... Alas... She had erred, because Johnson's arms were so impossibly twiggy that carrying anything beyond a few pounds would've seemed like a stupendous feat. He was aware of that - and feeling a bit bitter about it too - as he waited near the periphery of the actual coastline. His eyes were focused towards the cliffs as a voice counting and evaluating the fossils could be heard in the background.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, he was also there when Roswell had attempted to mount a horse and failed miserably, tumbling into the sand just seconds later while the horse started to nip at him before undergoing a similar fate. Sure, he was just a bystander, but he was present nonetheless, and it made this entire scene worse by tenfold.

His friend normally would've rolled her eyes and offered a snide remark clearly directed at the unfortunate blunder, but this time... She remained oddly silent, looking for a few seconds before hastily turning back so that she could work on her own affairs. For once, Johnson was actually the more curious of the two, so he decided to walk over and... Well... Get a better look at whatever the hell just happened. Then he'd probably egg his friend on about the unusual reaction.

Once there, the man gave a gentle nudge to the horse with his foot, then the other party. Just to make sure that he didn't witness an actual death... (Would he have cared if he saw a man and a horse dying? Probably not. It just would've been more surprising than upsetting either way.)

"Oh come on," Johnson told Roswell dryly once the aristocrat's attention turned to the other man, "I can tell that you're not dead. The sand would have a lot more red if you were. Same goes for the horse. She's not dead either. Get up before you make yourself look like a fool." Not that you aren't already one, he refrained from adding, and for good reason. Apparently this fellow was really, really persistent about his admiration (despite how increasingly unfounded it was), and it showed even now as he sighed and decided to be patient for once.

He did, however, give the other party a gentle kick to the face to be an asshole, as well as to further say, "Melodrama won't pay off here, let me tell you that. Do you want to be known as the fellow who tried and failed to ride a horse, or one who did that then proceeded to whine about it like some child?" Goodness, did his words sound bitter, but Johnson nonetheless sighed before glancing in the direction of the fossil cart, then back at the still-probably-fallen duo. "People will care more about the reaction than the actual event. Not everything's on you, don't worry about it... Just get yourself off the sand, and everything will be okay." Hopefully.

"I think I might have something for you to do to get rid of some of the tension, actually..." he muttered in a off-handed but still pointed comment. His eyes drifted towards the cart again. Oh no. "You can take the horse along with you too, actually. Her efforts would be appreciated greatly for the task at hand." Oh no again, but repeated.

I personally wish Johnson got frozen by the ice walruses, but alas.... he must live for the sake of forum games....   

here's a follow-up......

The beach used to be fun for Terry. He used to love coming here and relaxing under the sun, listening to the seagulls and the waves, feel the wind at his face. It used to be perfect.
But now, now he hated it. Although there weren't any students here today, he couldn't help but keep thinking maybe, just maybe, this was a school trip he'd forgotten about, like he'd see several students just suddenly run haphazardly into the water any minute now. He was too paranoid to enjoy it now. And with the rose-tinted glasses off, he couldn't help but wonder, had beaches always smelled like sewer?
He looked over at the other beach occupant. She didn't seem like someone that was here to relax, either. Or was she...? And was that... a mask? Huh. Reminded him of a goose. Or a seagull? The way she dressed and that calm way she was walking around, looking at the waves, she gave off supernatural vibes. Or something he'd see one one of those freaky/reality shows. He looked around, as if thinking a debate, then, with a sigh, stood up and approached her.
"Evening," he grunted. He awkwardly looked at the waves then back at her, gesturing to her outfit. "So, uh, this part of your job? What, uh... what is it, if you don't mind me asking? I'm a teacher myself. A band director," he grumbled the last part. "What brings you to the beach today? Trying to relax too?"

'That man's aura is nauseating,' whispered a female voice in his head. He jolted in surprise, having been staring off at the oceans crashing waves in a slight daze. His metal fingers clutched at his drawn-up knees as he tried to subtly assess the dark-haired man standing forlornly not too far from him. He took in the unsmiling face and the lit cigarette hanging between his pale lips.

'Hey!', shouted another voice, this one more masculine. 'Why do you have to be like that? Everyone has their bad days! Try to be more understanding!' 

Jacek turned his gaze away, not wanting to be caught staring. It was a little strange, he mused, for someone to look so sad while in the presence of the ocean's vast beauty. Not that he could judge, sitting in the sand in black clothes and a scarf. He was getting some strange looks too. With a silent sigh, he rose to his feet, pulling on his coat from where he'd laid it aside. He was sad to go, but they really needed to keep moving before trouble found them again...

And how unfortunate it must be for the teen to run right into someone like him.

He looks down to him, beer in hand, which slowly moves to be hidden behind his back. It's a playful movement, as he knows the younger likely saw it. But, being the adult he was; no drinking around the kids was a good philosophy to live by. The ones closer to their late teens and early twenties often were adventurous, and he didn't want to play the responsible elder who would have to decline letting anyone have a sip of the alcoholic drink should it come to that. Chances were, it wouldn't, but still.

"That's a thick scarf, dude." He starts, using his chin in a lift to gesture at the accessory. "Are you sure you're not burning up? Most people are dressed down for the occasion, not bundled up like it's winter." There's a pause for a response, though he notes that it never really occurs. At least not verbally. "You can put your stuff at my car if you don't have a place to keep it all? Or I can..help you find your parents if they're here? Maybe you're lost?" He couldn't tell. "Or your friends?" Maybe those were who was around instead? Though, he'd seen the boy for a bit, not really sticking around any particular person or set of persons. "Either way, I'm worried you're going to have heat stroke in all that, man."

Oh, look. Two extremely incorrect men.

Otto stared off into the distance, watching the ocean waves as they brushed against the sandy coast, leaving foam in their wake. His home province was landlocked, nowhere near the sea, but even then, even as someone who had been to a beach maybe two or three times in his life... There was something strange about the water here. Alas, he couldn't place what it was, but he still mentioned it to the man beside him. "I'm not entirely sure how to put it, but the waves, the little... the little pools, they're a bit larger than normal, are they?" he remarked, "I'm not sure what to call them either, really."

He leaned against the bar counter. The sea breeze blew into the shelter, ruffling his hair. He held a colorful, iced cocktail in one hand, which he slowly sipped on as he conversed with the younger man. Maybe if he were drunk enough, Otto's body language would be a tad more open, but such wasn't the case. He wasn't wearing his cloak, however, opting for simpler clothes, because unlike his uncle, he had common sense not to have a heat stroke. What a shame.

"I hope there won't be any children wandering close to here. Teenagers and alcohol make for an embarrassing mess," he then added, "And, in all honesty, I'm glad I didn't bring my children here. I'm not so stupid."

Probably for the best, old man. Your eldest son resorts to alcohol to be able to deal with you.

"But, while we're two men here." he continued on, "I can buy you another beer. Anything you'd like, really. Goodness knows I came here to blow whatever I have for spending, anyway..."

otto is obnoxious! follow-up.

To be honest, the beach wasn't that overwhelming to the aristocrat - since he had literally lived on one for several decades running. Nothing about the saline breeze - or the roaring of the waves as they struck the pale sands underneath the men's feet - really surprised or shocked him that much. It was just more of the usual in his eyes, and he was fittingly apathetic as he plucked at a seam on his cloak. He had seen better; he had seen worse. That was it, really.

The only aspect of this particular visit that unnerved Smithson was whom he was walking alongside. He couldn't help but shudder ever so slightly, though he conveniently did so when the breeze picked up so that he could blame it on the weather and not any cowardice from his part. Nice. Besides, it wasn't like he was being a coward now, since he had asked for yet another walk with the noble, and surprisingly enough, he had accepted. Smithson personally saw it as a chance to try negotiating again, though he was frankly also a bit antsy about what was brewing inside the other man's mind. Hopefully not another threat to drown me... His eyes drifted over to the ocean that flanked them some distance away. A puddle is easy to get out of, but an entire body of water?

"There's no way..." the man ended up mumbling with a slight nip on his own lips, "... You might as well end up hoping that someone's out there to rescue you if that's the case." Smithson sighed for a second before turning to face the potential ally. Or bitter enemy. It just depended on how this panned out, really... "But who would be out there anyhow? Certainly not any average person. They'd probably need a boat or something like that for nautical travel to even be feasible." He noted the blank look on the noble's face and frowned ever so slightly, though it was more out of concern than genuine contempt, surprisingly enough.

"I'm assuming the beach is foreign to you, huh?" he remarked with a hint of smug energy. Ew. He propped a hand on his own chest while looking over his shoulder and at the expanse of blue that seemed to stretch on, forever and ever. Far more than any puddle - at the very least. "I'd be in the opposite situation. I see this scenery every day, to the point that it's the usual to me. I'd be more concerned if I didn't see a body of water somewhere when I woke up in the morning. Like... If the ocean dried up."

For once, the man actually cracked a laugh before exclaiming, "Would you imagine that! The ocean drying up! I wonder what that'd yield in that regard." Smithson's steps slowed to a stop as they arrived at a wooden platform meant to help pedestrians clean the sand off their shoes - as well as give them a slightly better view of the beach below them.

"I think it'd be worse than just an infinite puddle though," he stated while giving the noble a dry look. "Wouldn't you agree with that?" He chuckled wryly before sighing once more and looking back out at the waves. "At least blue is naturally a soothing color. I can't really say the same about warm colors..." He trailed off and put a hand to his head. "Goodness, I think this is bizarre. I think a drink might be in order after all this. Then, maybe, when I'm in a drunken stupor, I'll be able to comprehend the possibility of a dry ocean." Was that supposed to be a joke? If so, that likely wasn't very funny. More concerning than anything else.

egg..... you're so sweet wtf...... ty for the kind words, and it's been a pleasure interacting with you as well!! ;;

here's a follow-up as promised....

(I like interacting with you and your super interesting characters >:)))

Doransui's warhorse galloped along the crisp sands, hooves occasionally meeting the water as she traveled. For once she was not looking for battle, nor a way to stake out any claims. The dragon masked warrior was simply...relaxing for once. A calm day, uninterrupted by the call for battle. Though as her horse somewhat gained on Smithson, she gently pulled on the creature to slow it down as not to trample him. The beast whinnied in protest as it stopped, large orange horns glinting in the hot summer sun.

The hero glanced down, almost disinterested in the man as she began to spoke. If anything, seeing someone dressed a little more...formal on a beach was just strange. Strange enough to make a comment of.

"What's with the outfit?" The dragoness's voice was gruff as always, keeping inline with her typically rough nature, "Don't humans typically wear something...other than that to these places?"

It wasn't like Doransui knew much about human fashion, for all she knew this was perfectly normal. She more or less just wanted an answer to cure her minor boredom.

How interesting. Normally Ark wouldn't have come to the beach, especially when it was so hot as it was today, but when he saw through the light a small yet ruthless figure he felt he had to confirm it with his own eyes. Even on the sand her horse stomped around, as if enemies were buried underneath trying to hide. Its owner had a merciless, possibly even bloodthirsty aura around her, her stance and her looks saying that she was the type to fight first and ask questions later. She reminded him so much of that other small hero he had seen, yet she was entirely opposite.
He liked her.
Someone so cunning and monstrous, he could surely use her as an ally.
"Hello?" Ark called out while approaching Doransui. He gave her a small smile. "Apologies for the intrusion, it's not everyday I'm in the presence of a mighty warrior." That mask would be a problem. If he could get the angle right he could make eye contact and see her memories, but it'd be difficult to do without making her alert. And the last thing he needed was to have that lance pointed at him.

"Hurt you?"
Slowly footsteps got closer and closer until Ark stood right next to the princess. The sun was behind him, casting a silhouette over his entire figure except for two, warm, golden eyes.
"Now why would I want to hurt you?"
He crouched down to be eye level with her, smiling kindly at her.
"What could you do that would make me want to hurt you?"
The sunlight was scorching.

Cheetah Princess had wanted to visit the beach for a while now, but only did so when there was no crowd around, as she was wary of strangers. It was very early in the morning when she decided to visit the beach. The princess decided to sit near the waters on the sand sliding her feet back and forth, letting the sands go between her toes. Then she finally felt a presence, as if she wasn't alone on the beach. She quickly gets up to observe her surroundings. That's when she noticed those golden eyes beaming from a way. It was as if the fresh morning sun made his eyes more visible from a distance. She recalls their last encounter. That man always seemed to speak with such politeness but the princess could feel an evilness in that man's soul. A darkness within the light. 

She didn't know what happened next but something drew her to him as she slowly walked towards him. She wasn't sure if deep down inside she wanted a glimpse of that man's handsome face again. Or his evil magic doings. Perhaps she was approaching out of curiosity. Whatever it was, she fought those feelings. It wasn't until she was close enough to see him that she broke from her trance. Just then she lifts both hands up to her cheeks and dramatically screams! She turns to flee but tragically falls, as the sands were difficult to run on. Laying there in the sad she quickly grabs a the sands and tosses it at Kaine. She hadn't realize at the moment of fall, but she injured her ankle from the impact, so now she slowly scoots away from him. "Please...." As she pleaded. "Don't hurt me..." As fear crept in.

Cheetah Princes politely smiles at him. "Thank you for your concerns and worry. You are such a sweetie." As she gracefully sets her hand on her chest. "But I really love the way the earth feels below my feet. I am very much one with mother nature. You should try it sometime. You may like it. Come join me!" As she covers her mouth coyly and lets out a giggle along with a blush.
Then when the young researcher mentioned how she was blocking people's view her spirit went down. "Oh... I am so sorry. Did someone say-" Her eye brows sad. He could see the hurt in her eyes. "I.. I didn't mean to block anyone's view of the beautiful beach..." She shamefully looks away, then back up at him again, to answer his question, "I come here to just be one with nature... The forest doesn't have anything like this... This is why I don't wish to come here when people are around. I don't.. I don't want to be a bother..." As she quietly got up and left.
(LOL! Fitz gots claws!!!)

⇩ (IS OKAY!! FITZ IS LOVED. SHE NEEDS TO BE TOLD THAT. TOO SPOILED YOU KNOW! THE WORLD DOESN'T REVOLVE AROUND HER!)

   - UYDEFVSUDVUFVDYFV HE'S JUST.... A PRICK...... I'm so sorry he had to do Cheetah Princess like that.... :"))

he doesn't even completely dislike her; he's just bad at expressing anything positive when it comes to those types of situations oOP-

The beach was nothing new to the youth, as he preened himself ever so casually near the sands. Of course he wasn't actually on the beach itself! That'd be a travesty in the making! Imagine all that sand getting into his shoes, his face, his clothes... And that shit would be a total mess to clean out. Fitzgerald wasn't used to cleaning himself, despite his constant grooming; he was used to having other people do it for him, even now - as an intern who was expected to be a little more independent by now.

"My boss really could've assigned a better place to do my fucking research," he growled to himself while turning his attention from his hair over to his coat. It was a mess, and after a few haphazard swipes, he gave up on trying to deal with the leather. I'll just get a new one later.

And with that out of the way, the young man rolled his eyes before looking over his shoulder to see an elf who was slightly shorter than him, just standing in the sand and allowing the wind to blow through her hair. He found it rather bizarre but also... Interesting? It looked like one of those scenes ripped from a movie, where a character entered a new location for the first time and was taking in everything from their surroundings. It would've been a beautiful moment, if it weren't for the fact that Fitzgerald was a total fucking brat.

"Oi," he piqued in like an unwelcome gnat, "I hate to be that type of person, but you do realize that there are balconies and shit for observing the beach, right?" The youth coughed into his sleeve. "As in... I don't mean to be rude, but for someone like yourself, I have the feeling that standing in the sand isn't the best idea for your feet. The grains are terrible in the tactile sense, and you might burn yourself on them."

Wait... Genuine advice, from Fitzgerald? Shocking.

Fitzgerald took a step forward, where his feet now dangled over the edge of the platform but didn't dare touch the sands below. He didn't want to sink to that level - oh no! The man was dedicated to staying on his little perch as he continued to scrutinize the woman below.

"Plus," he added with a grunt, "You might be blocking the view... Which isn't meant to be an insult, of course. It's not like you're a toad. But do be a little careful of whom you stand in front of." He coughed and balled a hand into a fist before gently thumping his chest with it. Oh... Way to be passive-aggressive there, sir. "But that asides," Fitzgerald stated with a twirl of his hand, "You don't seem like the fellow who'd degrade themselves in public - at least not intentionally. Not at all. I like that... People of power and dignity." He giggled under his breath before asking, "Would you mind asking me what brings you here, at least? I don't really give a shit about the beach, but you could be a different story, miss."

oh god. oh fuck. Fitz is a brat yet again-

I'm so sorry, sweet Kiushhu.... here's a follow-up.

Kiushhu hadn't been to a beach in a long while. Gosh the last time they had visited one was during....no, no it was that other raid...or...was it a hunting party? Days sometimes blended together for the hero.

Though it didn't entirely matter, as the uberhero made eye contact with Fitzgerald, remembering their last encounter being quite a bit patronizing. Claiming a cookie could feed them for days...they were no where near that small and he knew it. But, minor annoyance aside, it wasn't like Kiushhu despised him or anything, so it was easy to let the comments pass.

"Ah, greetings," They greeted warmly, "I wasn't prepared to meet a familiar face out here!"

Summoning one of their large, branching vines to get a better view upwards, they called down again, "A beach is a great way to catch the sunset, yes?"