Drinks on the Beach [Open/1]

A Hawaiian t-shirt, enormous boa hiding a bloodstain, and a near empty pitcher of piña coladas. Brazil was lovely this time of year.

Beautiful beaches adjourned to a resort, all courtesy to Gaoh by the graces of an unlucky mugger. Enough cash to burn, a half decent outfit. He didn't understand anything the man was saying, but after a knife got pulled? There was a common language there. Emptying his glass, he sighed, leaning back into the beach chair with the clink of ice and a mini umbrella. "Man, that's good."

Eyes half glazed over, he stared out into the ocean with a relaxed smile. The sound of birds on the horizon and splashing waves. In the distance, drunken gamblers echoed with the faintest electrical hum and ho of slot machines, the occasional explosion of noise loud enough to even reach them. However long this place had been here, it wasn't long enough. Emptying the rest of his pitcher with a single gulp, Gaoh waved the container in the air at a figure in his peripheral. Assuredly, a member of the resort staff. "Heyy! Refill, tha~~nks."

He'd belch, followed by a chuckle in the base of his throat.