The first thing he notices when he wakes up is that there's sand fucking everywhere.

It's hot—too hot for his hoodie, certainly—and he groans and rolls over, met with more sand. It's going to get in his hair and pool at the bottom of those metal beads and he's going to have to fucking take all of them out, wash them, and meticulously reattach them to the ends. Which would be horrible. So fuck that.

He groans again and props himself up on his elbows, eyes not quite adjusted to the horrible brightness. He can smell the sea closer than he usually can, which is odd, so he forces one of them open. When it adjusts to the blinding shine, he's surprised to see what was most likely the most beautiful place in the world.

Really, he shouldn't be; why the hell would be sleeping in the sand with a nose full of sea breeze if he wasn't on the beach or something like that? But this...this is so much better than any beach, with sand so white and fine you'd think it was star dust, and an ocean so blue and clear it seemed like three feet where it should be ten. The breeze made example of how the marshy grasses dance in front of the tall, immovable trees, and the boy has to give kudos to good advertising. The arrangement of the landscape and the plant life all came together in an alien exoticism.

He's not sharing it with only himself, either, but his mind is too awestruck to count the other, still sleeping figures.

He sits up in shock, both eyes now wide open. For a moment, he admires it all, faintly wondering how he'd gotten here. Then he asks himself the question again, how? He certainly doesn't remember getting on a cruise to paradise. He shrugs off the hoodie and ties it around his waist absentmindedly, trying to think back to the previous night.

The problem is that his mind is as blank as a newborn's and this startles him. He thinks harder, trying to see past the expanse of white and blue and green, and his throat tightens in oncoming panic. He can't remember anything, least of all how he got here.

The mood sours instantly, his high drops to a lowly feeling of unrealized dread. He isn't entirely in the moment just yet, still lingering on the scale between 'fine' and 'jump into the sea and swim away as fast as you can', but it's going to get to that point pretty damn soon.

His fingers twitch and he looks down at them, expecting some shade of brown, and has too bite his lips to keep from screaming. He figures it wouldn't earn him any favors if the freaky-looking green dude woke them up. Green, slimy, and malformed—he's tempted to run over to the ocean to take a peak at himself, but is scared of what he might see. And now there's blood pricking at his bruised lips, unnaturally sharp teeth having broken the skin.

The panic blooms and he trembles. What's your name? He asks himself, desperately. And since he cant answer it, he turns to the person closest to him, hoping they'll know better:

“Uh...do you know me?”

“Uh...do you know me?” He heard someone ask how should he know when he doesn't know his own name. he tried opening his eye and when he did he was greeted with sunlight shinning straight into his eyes so closed them then quickly covered his eye with his arms but he open them again when he heard the rattling of chains.

"Chains?" he was bit-startled at sound of his voice which was more of growl then anything but he was quickly over it so he just sat up and looked around and saw a human toad or frog looking thing "No do not know who you are"

Meanwhile, another green creature about a meter away was splayed out on it's stomach half buried in the cruel, burning sand. This one was quite small and frail looking, an odd, tiny, silver backpack seeming to emerge from his shoulders and two twitching bug-like antennae sticking out of it's slightly bruised and bald head. Suddenly, it exploded into a fit of coughs and hisses, it's chest heaving as it propped itself up on it's- Or his, according to the hint of a voice coming through the wheezing- elbows. He, it, whatever it is looked very, very pissed off.

It wasn't directed at anyone or anything, just pure, horrible anger.. Except, then he noticed the water.. Well, to take it lightly, that seemed to spark a huge trigger within the mind of the unknown species he belonged to and he let out a terrified, shaky screech. He rolled onto his back, sent into a fit of panic, kicking violently at the innocent ocean air. What was even up with this dude?

The young man had to bite his lip again when the figure sat up, eyes bugging at the sight of the six-foot-something beast before him. It wasn't the height and girth that bothered the frog, for some reason that struck a sense of familiarity and comfort--no, but the dried blood around his neck was a little unsettling. He flinched at the man's low, gravelly voice, and nodded to let the other know he heard him.

When the tiny...something or other...started screaming beside him, he gave his own yelp of surprise and flinched the other way--back towards the giant with the chains around his wrists--and then skittered backwards when he realized his mistake. He watched his fellow green-bean spasm at the wide, beautiful ocean, and held his hand at half-mast as if thinking of something comforting to say.

Of course, he didn't even know what the problem was and wasn't feeling 100% himself. He dropped his hand to his lap and felt his eyes well up in hopelessness, then he buried his face in his hands to muffle the imminent string of swears and the oh-my-god's.