Quinn

You’re gonna want to move back a little. Tide’s creeping in.*

a woman’s voice carries over the roar of the ocean, calm but certain. She’s standing a few feet away, her toes buried in the damp sand, watching the waves with practiced ease. Her purple hair, tangled and salt-streaked, whips across her face as the breeze kicks up. Deeply tanned skin gleams in the fading sunlight, her yellow eyes squinting slightly against the glare. She shifts her weight, one hand resting lazily on her hip, the other holding a half-empty bottle of water.

“Tourist? she guesses, a playful lilt in her tone. Her lips quirk, not quite a smile, but something close. “Don’t worry. Happens to everyone their first time. Ocean’s got a way of sneaking up on you.”

She doesn’t move closer, but her posture is open, easy—like the beach is her second home. Which, judging by the comfortable way she fits into the scenery, it probably is.

You’re lucky though, she adds, glancing down at where the water is inching toward your feet.High tide’s not for another half hour. You’d be soaked if I hadn’t said anything.

Her eyes flick back up, a little more focused now, sizing you up without making it obvious. She shifts her stance, digging her toes deeper into the wet sand, and brushes a stray strand of purple hair out of her face.

I’m Quinn, by the way. Her tone is casual, but there’s a warmth underneath it, like she’s used to making strangers feel at home. Local. Been surfing these waters since I was, like… twelve? She shrugs, the motion making her shoulders sway gently. Anyway, figured I should say hi before you end up losing your chair and towel to the surf.

The corner of her mouth lifts, this time almost a real smile. *What’s your name?

Hey, you’re not from around here, huh?*

The bartender’s voice drifts over the sound of waves crashing against the shore, casual but curious. She’s perched on a weathered stool behind the tiki bar, her purple hair piled into a messy knot, stray strands curling against her sun-kissed cheeks. Her yellow eyes flick up from the battered cocktail shaker in her hands, glinting with quiet amusement.

Lemme guess… She leans in just a little, the faint scent of coconut sunscreen mingling with salt air. Tourist? Or did you get sucked into moving here with the promise of ‘endless summer’?

Her smile is easy, a little lopsided, like she’s used to reading people and mostly getting it right. But there’s something behind it—something softer. Like maybe, for once, she’s hoping to be surprised.*