Casual Friday

As the description suggests, things will change. In time.

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It's a wonderful day! The sun is gleaming, beating down on the soft, sparkled sand of the beach...The sea seams to glow with the light from the sun and everyone is just god damn happy. It's a day out to the beach, you, some people, having a great time.

A black and purple Bandit-Masked Raccoon sits under a parasol on a towel, out of the sun. He wears a pair of black jean-shorts, blue converse and some shades. The raccoon, oddly enough had a large '6' shaped scare, embedded into his back. It was not subtle.

A green echidna sat right next to the sea, running her hands through the water.  She was wearing a red bikini with a green peace sign in the middle of the top.  She was thin with an hourglass figure, but she also had the slight mark of muscles under her fur.  Her echidna spikes were pulled into a ponytail.  She moved away from the sea and started to build a sandcastle.

She had come to the beach after winning a fighting tournament to celebrate.  She was smiling, sculpting the sand until a wave crashed onto the beach and knocked it over.  She frowned slightly.  Whatever.  She got up, brushed the sand off of her legs and walked over to a hut that was selling ice cream.

"Two scoops of sea salt caramel in a waffle cone, please."  She gave the money to the man in the hut and got the ice cream.  She said thank you and walked away.  She walked past a black and purple raccoon sitting on a towel.  An odd scar shaped like a six was on his back.

Interesting....  Was it a coincidental scar, or a tattoo gone wrong?  How do you even get tattoos with fur?  Rocky didn't know.  She blinked and realized she was staring, so she kept walking to her own towel a couple of feet away.

Tyson sat alone on the warm sand that had covered the beach, eyes focused on the ocean. It glimmered from the light of the sun.

A slight breeze brushed through his newly bowl-cut hair. He usually never cut it that short, but he wanted to try something new. He currently wore cyan and white shorts and a white t-shirt.

He didn't feel quite comfortable in that, being it that he was mainly accustomed to cold cimate, but whatever. He needed some alone-time to meditate. No one seemed to bother Tyson, and that's all that mattered. 

He closed his eyes, still sitting up on the sand, taking in the cool air.

He pretty much watched her stare at him. Although, with eyes like his it must have seemed like he was in a constant day-dream. They were grey, dull and lifeless. Like a dolls. He continues to watch her as she goes to sit down.

The raccoon takes his gaze off of her and looks to the ocean. His name, Six. The scar on his back, not on purpose. It was unknown to him who, or what marked him with such a number, but since then he took it as a chance to rename himself, start over.

Sitting down, he didn't look like much. He was actually quite tall. Although he wasn't quite enough to be considered "buff", the tone around his slim body was clear.

What was a guy like him doing at the beach.

She tilted her head from her towel.  Was he staring?  His dull, grey eyes made it hard to tell.  He must have just been thinking or something.  She's done that before.  She licked her icecream cone nonchalantly and laid back, her eyes flicking to the scar on his back as soon as he looked away.  That was definitely not an accident.

I wonder what happened.  He didn't seem to care about it, though.  He didn't seem to care about anything.  It didn't seem like he was supposed to be here.  She finished her ice cream and got up to get napkins. As she got them, she looked over at him, trying to catch his eye to see if they had any life.  

She walked back to her spot, still inquiring about the raccoon.  There had to be some reason that happened.  She had to find out.  You'll seem nosey.  Whatever.  It didn't look like he'd care anyway.  She got up, threw the napkins away and walked over to the man.  

"Hey, I don't mean to pry, but how did you get that scar?  Sorry, I'm just wondering."

"Sly ain't no here," grumbled a gravely voice, deep and booming, each word carefully thought through, "Boss not at beach, Eyes! What we doooo?" The voice in question belonged to a very large fellow, both in terms of size and physique. A good few heads above the size of the average mobian, the stone-skinned multi-armed basilisk lizard plopped on the sand, his top and 'main' arms plated with steel gauntlets with such thickness and weight they were to be dragged across the floor, and that was rather terrifying considering the size of this mythical beast made of stone muscle. On his eyes were a pair of shades, though they were tiny in comparison to his head, hiding away those eyes which could turn a man to stone.

"Well done, ya big doofus! Now move yer butt, we gots some works to do!" Well that was a painfully obnoxious and high-shrilling voice. Beside him was a gorgon, her snake body slithering in the sand as it parted for her thick tail, no legs in sight. Her skin was a pale green, decorated with various tribal markings which were a deeper, firmer shade, "Look down da beach for em!" She crossed her clawed arms, snake-like hair a constantly moving entity in itself, seemingly shuddering with irritation as the woman too felt, "C'mon, Thug!"

"But Eeeyeeessss...." the basilisk whined, keeping his firmly-placed rear end in the sand.
"Urrghhhh I guess we could take some sorta break..." Eyes examined the sun through her own shades, a scowl on the face, "Moron."