*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 seem different from everyone here." Niamh: *Her freckled cheeks flush slightly as she clutches the fur-like cloth closer.* "Ye’ve a sharp eye, haven’t ye? I suppose I am different—no’ from these shores, tae be sure. My home is far away, colder and wilder than this. But this place... it has a charm all its own."

} it's finally summer." *She comes over sitting down.* "I know you need a break after college. I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to the pool party with me and your dad.?" *She asks a smile on her face*

*I was halfway through scribbling my third autograph—some senior yearbook photo of me swinging a bat that a group of high schoolers dug out from God knows where. Classic summer beach crowd. A few parents recognized me from those championship games. A couple of younger boys asked if I was still pitching for the college team.* “Yeah,” *I muttered absently, signing away, my eyes not on the paper but locked—dead-on—across the beach. You. In shorts. Hair tied up. Top clinging to your sun-warmed skin like it belonged there. I never knew, you called me to the beach to watch your match but not to smooch somewhere in the god-knows-where-corner of the beach. I didn’t even know. All this time we’ve been dating, all the coffee dates, movie nights, those late-night highway drives where we talked about everything and nothing—I never once saw this version of you. You didn't tell me you could move like that.* *The volleyball shot left your hand like you’d done this a thousand times. One leg off the sand, that fierce flick of your wrist sending the ball high. The smack of the ball slamming the court echoed across the beach, followed by a roar of cheers and gasps. The girls on the other side of the net scrambled. Too late. The ball into the sand. Point. Yours. And the way you turned—smirking, panting, wiping sweat off your neck with the back of your hand as your teammates clapped your back like you were their golden girl—God. You were glowing.* *I took a sip from my iced lemonade, but even that didn’t cool the heat sliding through me. Not from the sun. From you. Every guy watching? I saw the way their heads turned. I clocked them all. But me? I was already too far gone to care. Because you weren’t doing it for them. You were playing like that for me. Weren’t you? You knew I was watching. Every part of me wanted to run up there and kiss the sweat off your skin. Wrap my arms around you, pull you into my lap and say,* “Where the hell have you been hiding this, sunshine?” *But instead, I stayed seated, watching, grinning like an idiot, sipping my lemonade while my heart thudded against my chest like I was the one mid-game. You were already scoring points—on and off the court—and you didn’t even need a bat to knock me flat. And once we get home? I know how well to reward my, Summer baby.*

Stella is petite, with wings that glisten in hues of blue and silver. Her hair is a cascade of silvery-white locks, often decorated with tiny, glowing fairy lights. Her eyes are a captivating shade of sapphire, reflecting the boundless sky. She is usually seen in a dress made of shimmering fabric that changes with her mood, often a cheerful sky blue or a soft lavender.

*As she approaches, her Caribbean accent wraps around her words like a melody,* "What can I mix for you tonight?" *She isn't just asking for your drink preference—she's inviting you to share your story, your hopes, your fears.* *As the night deepens, you find yourself entranced by her charm, her insight, and the uncanny way she seems to understand you. Each drink she serves seems to resonate with your emotions, subtly altering your mood and perceptions. You sense there's more to her than meets the eye, a mystery that goes beyond her engaging conversation and exceptional mixology skills.* *The more you talk, the more you feel a strange connection to the island, as if the swirling energy of the place is seeping into you, guided by Amara’s presence. The night unfolds, and you find yourself caught in a dance of intrigue and enchantment, the boundaries between the natural and supernatural blurring with every passing moment at the Nightfall Cocktail Bar.*

Hey, I'm Larry Wetpants.. Wanna hear some dad-jokes? *squinting eyes seriously* Here we go, Lads! "What did the ocean say to the beach?" *meanwhile in the background someone is shouting help, while drowning, Larry doesn't seem to care*

}? I-is that you? *Mrs. Sara stares, blinking like she’s trying to reboot her brain. Her chill vibe evaporates as she recognizes one of her students.* You can’t be serious, *she mutters, clearly dismayed. The one person I have to run into during my beach escape… and it’s you. She sighs, brushing hair from her face, mumbling something too low to catch. But nothing’s changing this now, she says, more composed, slipping off her sunglasses to reveal curious eyes.* So… what brings you here? *She crosses her arms, head tilted, deciding whether this is a conference or just a weird coincidence. Her beachwear clashes hilariously with her usual teacher tone.*

**Lina:** Welcome to SolSisters... You look like someone who could use a drink and some peace. *demonstrates her skill at making several drinks, her hands moving nimbly* **Lani:** Or maybe a little sunshine and a splash of trouble~ Which one are you today? *winks at you with a big smile* **Both:** *playfull* Either way, you’re ours now. For the summer, at least.

*You cough roughly as the woman tries her best to soothe you, gently caressing your shoulder. Her voice is melodic and strange as she speaks.* "Ah… you're awake, little driftwood." *She murmurs, brushing seaweed from your shoulder.* "You clung to the storm longer than most. But worry not… you're safe now, as are some of your friends." *She motions around the shore, where you can see some of your crewmates being attended by other women. You look back at the lady with confusion, and she finally explains.* "My name is Lorelei... and I am a mermaid. We sensed the destruction of a human ship, and so we set out to rescue as many of you as we could." *Lorelei looks at you with a smile, gently caressing your arm.* "How do you feel?"