Untimely Summer Pastimes - Javid Dislyte Summer Alt.

"Here's your Piña Colada, sir Javid."

"... Thank you."

The squawking seagulls soared overhead in the distance, drifting towards the sparkling sea. A strange feeling awashed over Javid's mind, causing him to furrow his brows in deep thought.

Taking in the exhilarating sights before him, the feline Esper suddenly came face to face with this odd sensation that perturbed him ever since he arrived on the Papaya Island.

It was tranquility.

For years and years, Javid had always willingly subjected himself to torture. Decades of imprisonment had eroded his sense of humor to the point of indifference to pastimes. He distinctly remembered the years of solitude, chained in darkness in the deepest depths of New Mylo's prison yet he could barely recall the faint memory of his last celebratory feast for his comrades.

He took a quick sip of his drink, letting the creamy, fruity taste flood his parched throat. Yet no matter how much he drank, it still failed to quench the alien feeling of normalcy that pervaded him in the past few days.

He sat by the shorelines, watching several other members of the Union frolicking freely. A soft smile crossed his lips, but the felon quickly stifled it with a grunt, unwilling to shed his stoic attitude.

But Javid knew he shouldn't mope around and watch others enjoy themselves all day, a sound mind needs a sound body, and what other ways could he achieve that without a little exercise?

With a deliberate grunt, the herculean lion rose up from the sand and stretched languidly. The salty breeze caused his flowing, radiant mane to billow elegantly behind him. He yawned widely, eyes squinting as he perfectly mimicked a housecat's big stretch as his bulky limbs reached upward. His traps flared outwards, his shirtless, beefy body openly exposed for all to see. Hearing a faint pop cracking in his joints, Javid loosened up and finally found himself drawn towards the festivities.

The first activity the lion Esper quickly found himself roped in was a fruit grinding competition. He couldn't really recall how he even ended up being a participant, but he felt that the whiny, stubborn voices clammoring for a big, burly volunteer may have been a reason.

"I wasn't expecting so many to watch something as trivial as this."

He thought to himself, surveying the expectant audience of both humans and Espers, some being a bit too keen on watching Javid for some reason. Nevertheless, the lion rolled his shoulders, not wanting to dampen the crowd's high spirits with his mordant tastes.

"Three... Two... One... And BEGIN!"

The competition started off with a bang, and Javid wasted no effort using his impressive strength to good use.

Javid rolled his shoulders once more, his broad chest rising and falling with a slow breath, then grabbed a hefty handful of assorted fruit and dumped it into the feeder.

Without hesitation, he gripped the crank handle with both paws and began turning it.

*The machine responded immediately with a wet, gurgling churn, pulp and juice splattering into the container below. Javid's powerful arms bulged with each rotation, his massive biceps swelling, triceps tightening like cables, and his lats flaring with each deliberate push. The sinew of his torso rippled with control, and the light sheen of sweat glistening against his white fur only emphasized every thick, defined muscle fiber that moved in tandem.

SCHRRK-SCHRRK-SCHRRK-

The device's rickety crank creaked with rhythm as the lion ground faster and faster until his arms became a blur.

Several onlookers were steadily drawn to Javid's fear of strength. The way the lion's glorious mane billowed behind in the coastal wind seemed almost regal and kingly, contrasting the fierce, focused grimace on his face as he grinded away with feral fervor.

Not to mention, the way his powerful frame leaned into the work, hips square and core firm, sent more than a few cheeks flushing. Every slow grunt and controlled exhale only stirred the tension more.

THWUNK—THWUNK—THWUNK.

Juice flew in wild splashes from the spout, soaking the front of Javid’s blue shorts and matting portions of his thick white thigh fur. It was little concern to him, he was too focused into the competition. His gaze remained locked ahead, brow furrowed with the same stoic composure he might’ve worn commanding a battlefield. Only now, it was over pineapples.

By the time the whistle blew, Javid's container had long overflowed with thick, gleaming fruit purée, dripping over the edge in golden orange rivulets. The closest competitor hadn't even filled a third.

The crowd erupted in cheers and hollers, some for the victory, others for more private reasons.

Javid, unfazed, released the crank and splattered fruit residue from his hands, stepping away from the grinder silently, slinking away from the crowd without so much as a wave.

He turned on his heel and made his way toward the shore, retrieving the large, sand-colored surfboard propped upright in the sand. Slinging it across his back with one arm, he began walking back, his long tail swaying gently behind him. As he approached you, the wind tossed a few petals from his loosened leis into the air.

“…I suppose that satisfies my ‘recreational quota’ for the day.”

He muttered, crossing his limbs while huffing softly in indifference, yet a slight twitch of his ear indicated he more than enjoyed his little show of strength.