Surf's Up!

[Izaak Finch]

A storm was brewing off on the far horizon, the blooming clouds pressed over the sea reflected an eerie hue of purple back against the water’s surface. There was a distant rumble, a groan of severity, a warning to all; it was coming. But there was something so captivating in the way in which the streaks of lightning licked white hot past the horizon, how they flooded the mid-afternoon sky with bursts of energy with a magnitude enough to stir a sparking electricity in all that truly observed it. There was one young man braving the chilled wind with nothing save for a pair of board shorts and a fibreglass short board steadied in his right arm to protect him. He seemed a vision of invincibility in the face of the harsh and nipping wrath of the winter breeze, because in all that he had been through, a little chill and a bubbling swell was not going to budge this surfer an inch.

It had been three whole, long and gruelling months since the accident and Izaak Jay Finch was a picture of health. Long gone were the strains in his neck, or the stiffness in his stride, faded were the bruises that had splodged along his skin and all that was left of his laceration was a faint, white scar along the flesh of his cheek. He was young, he was strong, he was fit and he had his whole life ahead of him ready to be paved by means of the charisma he had once retained, or so they said. Izaak wondered a little more of his life with each and every passing day and a little less of finding a way to bring back to life the beautiful young woman he was once to make his wife. Alexis was gone. If the fatal stillness of her body limp inside his arms inside the crumpled Chevrolet hadn’t been indicator enough, then the long and lonely nights that had passed between then and now most definitely had drilled it home hard. Here was his life, here without her and until the day he died, that was the way it would be. He’d never forget her, never go a day escaping that ache that wielded his heavy heart and he’d definitely never be as careless again in either his actions or his freeness to love. But today, as he stood on the cusp of the shoreline with the sand between his toes and the ocean breeze wisping through his hair, was a good day for Izaak Finch.

There was scarcely a glance he spared for the sandy expanse of the New Zealand beach, it’s desertion a certain change up from Sydney, even in the winter time. But as far as Izaak knew, he was alone in his wade into the waves. Just a man, the ocean and his surfboard. The sheer danger of it all, of the storm erupting before his very eyes and of not having a friend to surf with, tinged the twenty-one year old with an indescribable bout of excitement. Stretching out his frame, belly down, on the board was when the last logical thoughts in his mind fell behind, scooped away by his long, well-muscled arms as they paddled through the water. There was a smile lithe on his lips but it wasn’t for his late fiancée, nor was it for Alianne and the rock she had been for him or the life she had spared him. Instead, it was merely for the pleasure of being back out in the beautiful New Zealand surf. Away from friends, away from family and all that had troubled him for the past three months. Right here and right now, he could be himself, his free self. Izaak’s azure eyes locked heatedly onto a wave behind his shoulder, sized it up as an eight footer at face height, before stroking his strong arms through the silken body water and standing up to catch it’s force. In swivelling his hips and manoeuvring his weight across the board, Izaak was able to carve trickily it through the wave’s curl in such an effortless way that made it seem to be a move even a child could pull off. But oh how wrong assumptions could be.

 

[Victor Crimson]

The waves seemed engaging today, he couldn't have pull himself enough to not want and test his limits just for a little while longer. He had peddle his way through the small treading curves of incoming ocean much earlier this morning. When Madam Rameses gave him permission to figure out his way around the small isle, content with the freedom he so quickly accepted. It would've all been better except for one missing piece to better this vacation. The sun. The glowing rays of California's heat, the mass of people surrounding his favorite hot spots, the smell of salty pretzels, the cries of whining toddler, everything seem to be missing. The sun thought stood out the most in all of the selections he could think of, New Zealand harvest no warmth.

His feet sank within the brown sand beneath him. Already wet from before, a eager feeling swept over him while the waves crash against the shorelines were he stood. He watched, dark hues scan the bleak waves, spotting but a few who were daring enough to test this amount of intensity he couldn't say he ever witness before ever in his life. Victor, a normal size kid of 5'10, felt as if these waves were taunting, egging him on to take such risk before it died down.
He kept still, as the ocean tease him once more by rising up his knees, catching the edge of his wet suit, he had to go for it. Billabong surfboard reflected his full pledge to them. If its not billabong, is no one else. It's time to go. He jump in the same time, the thrust came harsh against his chest, but he let the pain passed as he peddle along rocking wave. The farther he force his way through, the more it became a task, one can easily quit, but he's not just one. His arms align with the board, drifting before he dug his way through troubling water. Something strong seem to be building up, something that would fill his satisfaction, his purpose for being here today. Victor really wanted to surf.

Out of Character:

sorry its not long, kinda sick! Thanks for making the topic though

 

[Izaak Finch]

The catch proved to be a good one as Izaak rode the wave until it's sharp lick of a curl had come crashing about him, driving the board further towards the shore as the water bubbled and frothed at his toes. The momentum lasted for not much longer than a few seconds and then Izaak was down again, flat against his board and aiming his artful strokes back out towards the limits of the breakers. The muscles in his cheeks felt tight, the wind nipped cold and fresh against his teeth but it was not until the azure-eyed man had slipped up and over the crest of an incoming wave did he realise just what kind of expression he was bearing. A smile. They had been few and far between since the accident and the only ones he had come to produce were the tight-lipped kind, the ones that hid more than the showed, the ones that were arguably not even real smiles in the first place. But this one wasn't faux, it wasn't half-hearted or lacking in spark. It was real and the thought of its presence only caused the twenty-one year old to grin a little wider. Today definitely was a good day. With not a grunt or a gruff sigh, Izaak quickly gathered himself up in to a kneel on the steady surface of the board. Working from such an angle seemed to be more efficient as both hands grappled for the water simultaneously and pushed through its satin-feel barriers. The colours seemed to bruise and swell a deeper, threatening hue beneath his body but Izaak cared more about reaching a second wave. What was once dangerous seemed all but petty to Izaak Jay now.

Only for a moment, there amongst the tyrrany of the brewing storm and the spitting waves that strode hand-in-hand with it, did Izaak let his thoughts spill to his Alexis. They always seemed to run in that direction if he didn't keep his head about him, you see. But it came as his electric blue gaze flicked up to the energy streaking across the sky, almost purple in its power. The wind rushed through his hair, tickling the nerve ends and he wondered if it was her. If it was comfort, if it was a warning or an encouragement of sorts. The directiono of his mind unsteadied him an inch. The old Izaak never would have contemplated the illogical presence of souls on earth. But then again, the old Izaak had had no reason to. Shaking the haunting feeling off his bare-skinned back, Izaak wished for the smile back and remembered the only way to acheive it. He threw his gaze back, forced it hard against the rise and fall of the sea and expertly calculated his next move. While in the middle of deciding upon waiting for the next set with the prospect that it would bring bigger and fiercer waves, Izaak noticed a boy of no more than fifteen paddling out towards the zone he was currently floating in. The sight threw him for a double take. Memories came thundering back, just like waves upon these shores, as he recalled practically living in the water at that age. And Izaak realised, it wasn't the surf that made him smile, it was simply for a sense of comfort. Before he knew it, he was calling out to the boy with admiration stuck in his throat and a beam still lingering on his lips. "You're brave, kid." It was something he had loved to hear at that age, because to be brave was to be invincible in a teenage boys mind. But Izaak had grown up and he had matured and had realised that foolishness also played a heavy hand in braveness. It was foolish to be out here in this weather, he knew that, he presumed the kid did too if he was a surfer, but there was an inkling there that neither of them really cared.

Out of Character:

It's completely fine, no worries

 

[Victor Crimson]

His focus were devoted to his obstacles ahead. Blinded by the thoughts of anyone treading along side didn't come to mind for the moment. Like an Illusion, as if he were living a fantasy of his own. He had once dream for this moment many times in the past. Scorn by his father wishes never to attempt this sort of action, he kept his promise in California. But those were neglected to seem meaningful in New Zealand. How can he not played out his action as he pleased? The ocean, as if he requested, was simply giving him what he truthfully asked for. It would be a sin on his part not to dive for his chance in the big leagues. Plus if he went through with this, and accomplish what he aim to do today, he would have loads of bragging rights back home. That's if he made it out in piece.

Fixated by the oncean roughness, he began to rise against his surfboard, with a balance to trigger his action further if he didn't wuss out. Throughout the sound, omnipresent that never seems to die out that day, he couldn't hear much till he heard someone spoke of his decision being out here as bravey. Turning his warm hues to face the voice's owner, he meet the eyes of someone much older than him. And all of a sudden he felt somewhat of bravey cross over him just as if his words make him that more filled with courage. He swept his eyes to look down, the more he kept drifting deeper the more he was aiming for an incoming waves. It hit him. Before he could thank that person, he turn and stood at his feet, flat against the board.     
In a split second he would be tasting victory, his board curves with him in control. The teal ocean cyclone around him, and pulling up from underneath, he rode the waves as if it were his last one."WOOOOHOOO! YEAH!" Killed instantly or torn to bring paralyzed, Victor pushed all his worries for that one momentum in time. He had rode it till the waves came crushing down his back. A second later he was force down the ocean depths. Crawling out before his lungs burst, he resurfaced with a face filled delighted no matter the outcome. Victor drifted back to shore, just to see the dude who witness his actions. Furthermore, to see what kinda skill he had to showcase a thing or two bout cruising the waves.

 

[Izaak Finch]

To see the pride rise like the surf within the teenager between him and the sandy shoreline, was to take Izaak back to that time when nothing really mattered. At least not anything beyond the size of the swell and pretty girls he'd snagged a kiss from on those messed up Friday nights. In moments such as these when he took the time to reflect upon such a lifestyle, he grew unreasonably envious of these fifteen year olds. Odds were, most of them wouldn't have had two daughters and a fiancee torn away from them before their twenty-second birthday either, which only stirred the green monster within him to rear its ugly head. But as today was a good day for Izaak Finch, especially as he sat there perched atop the lolling waves, he could not help it but to laugh joyously as the kid sped off on a wave that rolled into the shore. The beam upon his face crinkled his eyes and bounced against the sparkle in his irises, so hypnotic against the swimming blue of the ocean. Not only did the kid have guts, but he had skill too and quite enough of it to take him places too. The wild cry that clashed between the rumbling thunder and the sweeping surf jarred the empty beach with a new kind of life, one so carefree that it was only up to a fifteen year old to bring to the table. But the beach was not the only receptor.

To his raw and unharnessed excitement through the efficiency of his peripheral vision, Izaak caught a wave creeping towards him like a partnership too fricking good to refuse. It's crest taunted him with a flurry of white and frothing bubbles, warning the man to get the hell paddling or miss out entirely. Once more, Izaak's arms curled against the current of the sea, channelling him into parallel with the towering wave and as always, that tiny jolt of excitement shot through his bloodstream, empowering one last push and then a balanced rise to a stand atop of his board. This wave was bigger, much bigger, than the last. It towered so far overhead that's its crest began to curl over into the trough and into a barrel, an opportunity Izaak didn't want to miss. After picking his entrance into the tunnel of raging water, Izaak manouevered his way through its vices as if it was the most effortless activity in the universe. Though to him it was, being inside the barrel served as some sort of sanctuary that he could not quite put his finger on back on solid ground. The gentle whoosh of the wave tumbling over into itself, the glassy sparkle of its walls in a fanastical tunnel all around him, the flick of lightning at its very end and racing it's tumble of white wash. The hardest part was leaving it, purely because it was a place he could literally stay forever in were it not for its volatility. But Izaak did so with a bang, as he raced his board up the height of the wave before twisting spectacularly to swing it back down into calmer waters where, coincidentally, the young boy was floating. Deciding this kid was well worth it, Izaak paddled over to him with a smile stretched from ear to ear. "Nice going man." Izaak held up a fist for the younger surfer to touch his own to, the ultimate gesture of acceptance between the two. "You been surfing for long?"

Out of Character:

sorry for the lateness and lameness :/

 

[Victor Crimson]

The sea water roll were alluring him again. The waves crashing against his knees just made more taunting as he stood watching over the horizon and than the catch in which the guy, the one who commented on his courage, came flying out of nowhere. As if he own the waters alone, he caught the waves given to him, much more intense than it had been for Victor, but it blew his skills right out of the waters. Where did this guy come from? All he kept saying and while he kept his chocolate hues the whole time on him, he felt a competition silently going on to show off a bit of what each one had. The guy had more, still didn't discourage him, just made it that more refreshing of diving into the teal water all over again, this time without a repeat, catch it or be done with his frustrating effort of conquering the beast. In which he referred to the highest waves, the most malice, uncontrollable, and extreme catch ever. Its what every surfer wanted to try but never got the chance in their life to risk broken bones, being humiliated, or worst dying for. This is where the courage came from, he looked over the guy paddling forward, he must've been a lion too? That's what cross his mind instantly, yet he could be wrong.
"Hey thanks" he pounded right back his fist accepting the guy right away. He sounded causal, now that his heart beat slow down. And his chest didn't seem like it were caving in after his run through the ocean, he sounded fine. "Where did you learn to ride like that man? Your waves are killer..." his olive tone lid up, a cheeky grin made his words sincere about the man skill. "Your sponsored?" really the most typical question any surfer would ask a fellow comrade. It was mostly ask when you had good skills to show, Vic didn't ask man. He just had to ask this dude drifting right next to him. He had already peddle back, he held onto his white board.

Out of Character:

God Emma if that's your lameness than you killed me!