Other people may have been treating this vacation as if it was an excuse to relax, but Izze was ready to amp up her game. She was completely oblivious to the gathering clouds as she swayed her curved hips and twisted her body to the pop-infused beats that pulsed through the deck. One hand was clutching to a mystery liquid in a plastic cup, and the other was flirtatiously running through her multicolored dred locks, brushing past her doll-like face, and resting on her collar bone. Every so often she would let out a shrill giggle, an almost forceful noise; and while it wasn’t displeasing, her laughter held the sound of tiny bells, it was incessant. It was quite obvious that Izze needed to be medicated with something, anything, as she pranced and spun past the boys, the ruffles on her tiny, skull and grenade adorned bikini flouncing. She moved with an air that screamed I’m quite confident that you’re going to die from a heart attack from me. he. he.

When her brother called out to all of her fellow teenagers on deck that the party had to stop, Izze let out a humph, pressing her lips, colored navy with lipstick, together in that familiar, full pout. Parties don’t stop. Not with Isabella Violetta Gratis there. They could be having a freaking hurricane and she would still be mulling over playlists, boys, and drinks. AND she was just getting her hip-thrust on. No, no. Brother dearest would just have to drive around the storm.

The nineteen year old slipped into where her brother was diving and gave him her signature What-the-hell-do-you-think-you’re-doing expression. She often reserved this expression for him when he brought over a girl that bored her to tears, or wasn’t good enough for him (most weren’t), or if she ever caught wind that he may have been studying for an exam. Sometimes she didn’t understand him at all. Did he not comprehend that there were six teenagers on board who wanted to get their party on? Oh, Dawn. She stood in front of him, acrylic nails digging into the skin of her slim hip, and attempted to incinerate him with her alarmingly bright blue eyes. “We have to go down because of a silly little rain storm?” She whined. “I was just about to drag you out to party with us.”

ooc: Angel, would just normal Fincyaran humans know about the prophecy/be waiting for them? Let me know via text or msn and I'll edit this post with Fay.