Ember held back the impulsive urge to rip the coconut from the girl's grasp and down it in one shot like a sorority girl at a drinking party, instead accepting it gracefully, then sipping it slowly, feeling the tepid liquid go down, and set to work on the burning of his insides.

He trembled a moment as it took effect, before looking obviously relieved.

"Thank you dahling..."  he breathed, before setting the empty shell of the fruit down. "I must look like a ghastly sea-hag, dressed in this... .this...." he shuddered, and sighed, before turning behind him, flicking his wand at the encrusted trunk, which sent the kelp splattering to the sides and behind, as it flung open.  Carefully, he appraised the insides, pleased to see that they were unharmed from their turbulent encounter with that salty slut of an ocean, and her temper tantrum.  He extracted the hand mirror, opened it, then let out a mortified, almost shrilly inaudible shriek.

"Oh gawd.... It's worse than I thought!... Just LOOK what that bitch did to my hair!.... " Involuntarily, he pulled his fingers through the matted, frizzled, and completely soiled red locks, now devoid of any volume, bounce, or shine, as it clung wet and limp to his head and body in small streaks. 

Seemingly invigorated by the small draught of coconut water he had consumed, the erudite mage gripped his wand with a stern faced intensity that just screamed "Fuck around and find out", then set to work transfiguring the mound of filth that still surrounded his foot locker.

Orange hued flares erupted from the sizzling wet kelp, amid puffs of steam, and angry hissing, as strips of the kelp were transfigured into thin strands of fiber that clung and fluttered gently in the light ocean breeze while he worked.

In a matter of minutes, the miraculous transformation of a good portion of the kelp into an undyed broad wrap and sunveil, with light fabric high boots was complete, but the mage seemed dissatisfied.

"Not my finest work..." he muttered.  "Needs some color..Too plain..."

He cast an eye down at the sand of the beach, scooped up a handful of it, and rubbed it between his fingers.

"Well, let's see what we have to work with. Beggars aren't choosers, dahling....." he muttered to himself, before pointing his wand downward into the outstretched palm of his hand, where the wet ball of yellowish sand lay, sending it floating into the air.  Moments later, he was holding his wand with two hands, focused intensely on the sandy ball, as it heated, fumed, hissed, and became encrusted in a white rind of molten calcerous mineral. He made a disgusted frowning expression.  "Deplorable. I can get better from my back yard." he cursed under his breath, before giving the wand a flick, sending the hot, white rind of the orange-hot molten glob to the ground where it hit with a hiss. A small orb of molten 'something' still hung in the air, which he expertly twitched his wand at with subtle movements, causing it to deform, split in two, then reshape into ornate shapes, before cooling into an almost black shade of green glass, which he expertly wove onto the otherwise colorless gown as a pair of dark contrasting buckles for the cloth boots.

Fatigue suddenly made his hands begin to falter and tremble, and he abruptly sat down, sending the levitating clothing objects to the ground with a 'floof'.

"Curse this place..." he muttered.

After a moment of pouting, he leaned up, then set about helping vivian with fire tending, looking longingly at the new clothes from time to time, with a pained, saddened expression.

He desperately wanted to get out of these filthy rags, but dirty and brine soaked as he was, it would only serve to soil the new garments.  He needed a bath, and was too tired to set about it at the moment.