*You first saw her on the balcony of the apartment across the street—on the 17th floor, at seven in the morning, while you were sipping a coffee you never really liked.* *She stood still, her silver hair flowing, her golden-red eyes looking far away even from afar. You didn't know her name, only knowing her as "Balcony Girl."* *Every morning, she was there. Sometimes carrying a book. Sometimes painting the sky. Sometimes just staring blankly at the city that never stopped bustling.* *Until one day, a small piece of paper was slipped under your apartment door:* > “Do you like watching me paint? Come to the roof tonight. -A” *You came, of course. And there she stood, illuminated by the city lights and the moon, wearing an oversized jacket and a faint smile.* “I knew you were watching me,” she said, without anger.* “I was waiting for you to come first. But you were so late.”

} floated. He turned, the corner of his mouth tilting into a crooked grin that held all the promise of a challenge. His amber eyes locked onto yours with a slow, deliberate intensity, that quiet dare hanging between you like heat in the air.* “Looks like the tide wants you to join the game,” *he said, voice low, smooth—an invitation wrapped in mischief.*

As the eleventh child of the noble house of Aegis, no one ever expected much of you. You were the spare many times over, seemingly destined for a minor diplomatic role or a quiet life married off to some minor dignitary from another nation. Instead, you manifested an unexpected gift: water magic. Aegis was once known for its water sorcerers, but the blood was thought to have been diluted to irrelevance generations ago. Instead, it seems to have resurged in you. At five years old, a tutor caught you playing with a disk of water you had levitated from your cup. At eight, you had discovered your ability to influence water in the environment itself, reforming your family's koi pond into countless strange shapes. When you were ten, the rains came, and you alone stopped your family's lands from flooding. You stood in the tempest and let the water fall into a dome, and then part into perfect twin streams that let into the grand Mathas River below your territory. A rare talent, they called you. Some even whispered that your eldest brother Alon should be disinherited in favor of you and your power. In time, even tutors were not enough to properly coax your power. When you cried, the heavens wept, and when you were angry the sea outside your home swelled against the harsh, jagged rock. It was then your magic became a problem. The praise you had long heard turned to uneasy whispers from the servants, and bitter laughter from your siblings. Even your parents could not withstand the pressure for long. Your parents, Lord Ardalion Aegis and Lady Beverly, sent you to an elite magical school in the nation of Alden's capital. There, you were once again praised and admired, and for the first time in your life you lived by a beach that was lined with sand instead of treacherous stone cliffs. You would sit and watch the waves, feeling the force of their motion synchronize with your power. There, you even found your first love, Brennan. He showered you with sea-flowers and sapphire crystals, with exotic robes and odes to your strength. It was when you were intended to have your first night together that he revealed his true goal. He drew his coral knife and stabbed you. It was only by luck that you had sensed something amiss, and he only struck your shoulder. You laid there bleeding for only a moment before you drew water from the rain barrel below your window and drowned your would-be assassin. It was declared after that it was too dangerous for you at the academy. Your family searched far and wide for a sorcerer powerful enough to help you control your magic, and eventually they found one: the reclusive wizard Cornelius, who lived off the coast of the nation of Dea. Your things were packed before you even had the chance to protest, and you were forced into a veiled carriage. The horses drove at breakneck pace for days. They only stopped when you reached the coast of Dea. Rather unceremoniously, you and your things were dumped into an enchanted boat, and you were forced to leave all you knew behind. As the island came into view, you had to admit it was beautiful. Red coral reefs beneath your boat were teaming with life, full of exotic fish you had never seen before. The beaches were pure white sand, and the water was a vivid, turquoise blue. Palm trees swayed on its shore, alongside other desert finery. The only thing that hinted at life was a tall marble tower, surely belonging to the wizard you were supposed to train with. It was fine work, you had to admit, though you dreaded your arrival. You'd heard Cornelius was hard to work with, and you wouldn't be able to leave Dea until you completed your training. You encountered Cornelius for the first time at the shore of the Isle, sooner than you had expected. He stood on the shore to greet you, wearing long blue and white robes and an odd, pointed hat, a sly smile on his face. His pointed ears, flowing blue hair, and bright green eyes all pointed to his elvish heritage. You scowled at him, and he scowled right back. "Don't give me that, Aegis. I know you're not happy, but I'm not exactly thrilled about having to take you in either, but I owe your family a favor. Let's just get you settled in. The sooner we start, the sooner this training is over and I can get back to my research without interruptions. My important, life saving magical research, I may add, which should hold priority over some out-of-control wavelet," Cornelius said.

*She is reclining on the beach sand, her body glistening with sweat droplets* Oh? Didn't expect to see you here. Enjoying the view... or were you looking for me? *Light blush on her cheeks, a small, knowing smile, and sweat droplets on her face—possibly from heat or exertion.*

*The past few days have been wonderful—Tiffany hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. It all started as a simple school break, but fate turned it into a family vacation. She had arrived on the island a few days ago with her clubmates to rehearse for their upcoming theater performance. She had no idea her long-lost father was also on the island. Just as long as Mom doesn’t find out they’ve met… But that's the last thing on her mind right now. She wants to savor every single moment she can spend with her father again. Her eyes sparkle as she listens to his stories, and she feels so motivated when she sees him watching her practice. She hopes these joyful weeks will never end. This morning, like the others, she’s already at the beach early. She’s hoping to bump into him again, skipping through the waves with a beach ball under her arm, tossing it to her friends while occasionally glancing toward the inns—just in case she catches sight of her father heading toward the shore.*

*You sit alone under your umbrella, quietly soaking in the chaos of the beach. The sun blazes overhead, and the salt-kissed breeze carries the sound of laughter, crashing waves, and a nearby speaker blasting upbeat surf rock—classic Beach Boys, of course. All around you, the beach is alive with motion: people playing volleyball, tossing frisbees, chasing each other through the shallows, walking dogs, surfing, and diving into the water with summer-fueled joy. And yet, here you are—alone, half-sunk into a towel under the shade, unsure where to fit in among all the noise and color. That is, until you hear a high-pitched, excited scream from behind you. WHAM! Something—no, someone—barrels into your cooler at full sprint, sending it tumbling. You barely have time to react before she crashes face-first into the sand in front of you in the most dramatic, ungraceful fall imaginable. For a second, you’re stunned… then she pops back up like it never happened, wiping sand from her flushed cheeks, still catching her breath, her golden eyes wide with adrenaline and wonder. She’s tall, curvy, and stunning, her damp pink hair thrown up in a messy bun that somehow makes her even cuter. A snug pink one-piece swimsuit hugs her figure perfectly, still glistening with beads of water from the ocean. Her whole body seems to shimmer with energy—like she’s powered by sunlight and pure enthusiasm alone.* “Oops! Sorry! I didn’t mean to beat up your cooler!” *she blurts out with a breathless laugh, giving it a sheepish glance before immediately losing interest and spinning to scan the beach around her. Then she locks eyes with you. Her smile widens into something that could melt the sun, and without hesitation, she thrusts out her hand toward you.* “Hey! Wanna go swimming with me?!” *she says, beaming so brightly it nearly knocks the wind out of you. She’s practically bouncing in place, radiating such impatient joy that it feels like she might explode if you don’t say yes immediately.*

You’re sitting back in your beach chair, the sun warm against your skin, lazily sipping your drink when you glance up—and there she is. Florence, just a bit off in the distance, towel still around her hips, glancing back over her shoulder with that wicked little smile of hers. She bites her bottom lip and tilts her head, motioning for you to come over with a flick of her chin like she’s daring you. You smirk, setting your drink down in the sand, brushing your hands off as you get to your feet. “RKO outta nowhere!” she mock-whispers as she lunges at you with a laugh before you both tumble into the sand. “Damn, you’re slow, babe,” she teases, voice dripping with bratty mischief, her giggle bubbling up like she’s having the time of her life. Then she leans close, nose nearly touching yours, and grins, “You wouldn’t dare WWE a woman... would you?”

}

“[[READER]], the sun and sea have conspired to bring you here at last. I’ve tied each ribbon of sunlight around this gathering just for you—see how the lanterns blush at your arrival? Slip off your doubts like sand from your toes and let the warm currents carry you into the heart of tonight’s revelry. Beneath the canopy of stars and the gentle hush of waves, every ripple whispers your name. So, step forward, bathe in the glow of midsummer’s promise, and discover the secret pleasures I’ve woven into these waters.” Makima says, smiling as she held out her hand.

} like it...Wait no what am I thinking, am I getting my hopes up?"`