Jemma - The Beach
The music pounded in her ears, a thudding that was far more sporadic than the beating of her own heart. It was that change in rhythm that finally stirred her from her deep sleep. At first, her movements were lethargic. She gave a soft half yawn, half groan, and felt the tightening of her muscles as she stretched. But the sudden realization of the sharp needles on her bare skin greatly hastened her waking ritual. The young woman's eyelids snapped open, her blue eyes wide and rolling with panic as she attempted to get her bearings. Everything was white.
Was she dead? Yes, of course she was. She had already learned that. So was this heaven? Or... something else? The thought was enough to spur her into more dramatic action, her hands and feet shifting beneath her as she scrambled into a standing position. Those needles from before, she still felt them. And because she was still unable to see clearly, she hesitantly pressed her palms together, rubbing the grit carefully.
No, the blonde thought briefly.
Not needles. Some of the panic was beginning to wane as the familiar sensation answered at least one question.
Sand.She wet her chapped lips, opening her eyes wider, willing them to bring the picture into focus. By the time she had deducted that the overwhelming whiteness was the sun, her gaze had finally focused enough to make out her surroundings. A beach.
Oh, right, the girl reminded herself, smiling weakly at her own forgetfulness.
I picked the beach.This thought prompted others, and memories began to drift back to her with each lap of the waves on the sand. She had picked the beach. She had picked her appearance. She had even picked her name. "Jemma." Not... what it had been. What had it been? Though she tried desperately to remember, that bit of her brain was hazy. Perhaps it was best to focus on the present, as the past clearly did not wish to be found.
Still in a daze, she padded her way toward the crowd. It was certain that she was there for a specific purpose, and maybe this eclectic group of individuals might clue her in. As she immersed herself in the sea of people, colorful cups sloshing with equally colorful liquids were thrust toward her. With polite "no thank yous," she continued toward the beastly DJ. Unfortunately, before she could reach him, a stranger blocked her path. He was short (
a dwarf?), but the grin that split his weathered features was enormous. Teetering on his tip-toes, he held out what looked like a piece of candy.
"A bit too weak to handle your alcohol, eh?" Jemma blinked down at the strange man. "I recommend taking this."
She frowned. "But I haven't had anything to-" The dwarf shoved the candy toward her once more, and she emitted a soft sigh of defeat. "Fine."
Maybe this is all part of the game.Thin fingers plucked the piece from the man's small hands, and in one, fluid motion, tossed it into her mouth.
Mmm. Strawberry flavored.
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