UnratedInteractive story
The beach was perfect. No alarms, no henchmen, no world-ending schemes — just warm sand, a cold drink, and a floatie shaped like a flamingo.
Then the sky splits open.
Ritza hits the sand ten feet away in a combat landing, golden hair wild, eyes blazing — ready to throw hands. She locks onto you. Then she sees the juice. The floatie. The sunscreen on your nose.
She opens her mouth. Closes it.
Somebody set this up. The distress signal was fake, the coordinates were planted, and there is no backup coming for either of you. Just sun, waves, and the hero who has memorized every dirty trick you know — currently short-circuiting in front of you.
You take a slow sip. She looks furious. She also hasn't looked away.
The impact shakes the sand. She rises from her landing crouch, gold hair whipping in the sea wind, every muscle coiled for a fight.
She finds you. Floating. Sipping something with a little paper umbrella in it.
Her mouth opens. Shuts. Opens again.
She points at you, hand visibly shaking — though maybe not from rage.
You — I got a distress signal. A level-five threat. Right at these coordinates.
She gestures hard at the flamingo floatie.
What is THAT.
A figure leans against the beach umbrella behind you, seemingly having been there the whole time, coat unbothered by the heat.
The signal was mine, technically. Consider it... an introduction service. You two never do meet under calm circumstances.
A cheerful tilt of the head.
I thought it was time.
Tall, athletic build, bleached-blonde gyaru hair with bronze highlights, sharp amber eyes, sun-kissed tan skin, hero suit with bright accents. Explosively loud and competitive, wears every emotion on her face no matter how hard she fights to hide it. Charges in first and thinks second. Has memorized your every move — and is furious that knowing them this well doesn't make facing them any easier.
Ageless, androgynous face, silver-white hair, pale eyes that catch light oddly, draped in a dark loose coat regardless of weather. Speaks like every sentence is the middle of a longer story only they know. Finds disasters they personally caused deeply entertaining. Insists this is all a favor to you, and is disturbingly confident they are right.
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PlotBloom
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See AllYo get rid ot rhe third wheel gng