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frodos-bizarre-adventure · 7 days ago

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@garuye This inspired me. Enjoy :)

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Evening crept upon a dark, calm sea.

Just barely above the horizon, freshly risen, hung a bright full moon, its pale yellow light causing the waves to sparkle in the dark like the stars above. The silence of the night was broken only by the faint whoosh of the waves upon the shore, and faint, merry voices from the tavern by the pier, which grew louder as a ship neared its destination, and its weary crew disembarked from their vessel.

"Evening, Captain Pendleton! Smooth sailing tonight, hasn't it?"

"Indeed, Robert, old friend."

In the dim light, as the crowd dispersed, two figures converged, one from the land, the other from the sea, unto the pier where the Phantom Blood was moored: an old merchant vessel commandeered once by traders, but now by adventurers seeking treasure upon the high seas.

The taller of the two, a tall scarred man crowned in curled dirty-blond hair, gestured invitingly to his companion, a sharply-dressed swashbuckler clad in boots and a worn old blouse, as she descended from the ship down the gangplank. She stumbled slightly upon the dark, wet wood of the pier, but her friend was quick to steady her fall, catching her hand, delicate yet calloused and roughened by the rough life at sea, in his own.

"Easy there, miss. It's been a long day."

And indeed it was, as always, for the captain had dedicated her life day after day to exploring the seas in search of treasure, and at times clashing with other pirate ships who sought the sea's hidden riches. She had a wildness within her that refused to be tamed, that yearned for the wind in her hair, the scent of the sea, the warm rays of the skin that fell upon her tanned, once-fair skin.

The life of a noblewoman? Tethered to prissy dresses and parading around in the streets sheltered by a fancy umbrella, drinking bitter tea in dainty cups with other socialites who rambled endlessly in dull conversations that bored her to tears?

It was not her place. And she was glad to have left such a tedious life behind.

"Kempo, Tattoo and I are headed to the tavern," her loyal first-mate invited. "I suppose a few drinks and a warm meal would do wonders to a tired sailor like you?"

"I suppose, but I must remain sober for a little longer," replied the captain with a chuckle. "You go on ahead. I'll still have to make sure the ship is secure for the night," she reassured him with a firm but friendly hand to the shoulder, as she began knotting the heavy ropes that anchored the ship in the bay, folding away the gangplank and securing it to the side of the boat.

"Alright, Captain Erina. Take care."

At first, her crew had been very protective, condescending even, of her. She was a lady, after all.

But not like any other lady they'd met, for she'd quickly proven herself capable upon the deck of a ship, and made it clear she did not like being treated like a fragile china doll, shielded from the reality of the world. And though a few men looked down on her skill, her decisive victory in helping fend off the crew of the rival Captain Bruford was enough to earn their respect.

And so Robert Speedwagon, first-mate of the Phantom Blood, left the captain to finish her work by herself in the pale moonlight, unaware that tonight was the night her world would be changed forever.

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It began with a few ripples.

For a moment, she brushed it aside as perhaps just a large fish, foraging for scraps in the shallows, or perhaps a seal. There were many of the blubbery beasts in this region, piling up on beaches grunting and snorting, and perhaps stealing a fish for two from the irate fishermen of the bay.

Yet she saw something move again. And this time, she was certain that the shape that popped up from the water was most certainly not a seal.

It was young man, his back turned to her, bathing in the shallows, just beneath the pier. He was mostly submerged and obscured by the inky-black sea, but from the little she could observe, she saw a mop of dark hair, almost blue in the moonlight, and a thick, toned neck that reached down to bare, muscular shoulders. Most curiously, perhaps, was the small mark he sported on the back of his neck.

A tattoo perhaps? Shaped like a star?

She quietly approached, partly from curiosity, partly from concern, that a person was in the cold water at this time of night.

"Excuse me, Mister?" She addressed him, careful not to seem too threatening to someone who might be in need of help.

With a splash, the man turned around with a gasp, flinching at the unexpected intrusion. She saw more of him now in the moonlight, strong-looking muscled arms, a chiseled, handsome face, and the most beautiful sea-blue eyes she had ever seen.

Eyes that stared back at her in frozen terror.

"Wait! I won't hurt you!" she called out to the man in the water. "Are you alright? What are you doing here?"

The man stammered nervously but seemed unable to produce a coherent reply in his trembling voice. His eyes darted from side to side, scanning the surroundings warily.

Erina felt a twinge of pity at the frightened man, all alone. He must have been a castaway, swept overboard. Or perhaps, a prisoner forced to walk the plank by some cruel pirate crew that had robbed his ship.

She couldn't leave him here by himself.

"Climb up," she said, reaching out to him. "I'll get you out of there in no time."

"No!" He suddenly blurted in reply, raising his hands in worry. "I'm...I'm not in trouble at all, kind landlady, er, ma'am," he said awkwardly, fumbling his words. "I'm...I'm just out for a swim, thank you."

Landlady? Erina thought. What a strange little man he was.

"At this time of night?" she said. "You must be cold. Come along, we'll get you all warm and comfortable over at the tavern."

"Tavern?" the man replied in a questioning tone, still clearly on edge, yet intrigued by what seemed a new word to him, curiosity conflicting with his fear. "Tavern," he repeated, savoring the word, a small smile coming onto his face as he swam a little closer, leaning against one of the pier's supporting beams, trying to get a closer look.

Erina giggled, fascinated by this strange, eccentric person in the water. "Don't you know what a tavern is? You must be new here," she added. "I don't think I've seen you around these parts before."

The man sighed. "I needed to be alone for a bit." He suddenly perked up in alarm, as if remembering something. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I must get going now," he said, urgently but politely.

"Don't go yet!" Erina pleaded, eager to know more about her unexpected new acquaintance. "You're a visitor around these parts, right?"

"I am, and it's best if..." He glanced behind him as if worried he would be caught in the act, "...if no one else knew I was here."

For a moment Erina let her guard up. She briefly entertained the idea he could be a member of an enemy crew, trying to get the jump on her or her friends--

Yet...yet he seemed too timid, too gentle, even, to do such a thing. Perhaps he was just sneaking away from home? Or a dock worker taking an unauthorized break? He certainly had the build to do some heavy lifting, seeing the muscles on him...

Many more thoughts raced through her mind on who this fellow might be, and what was up with him, her mind writing various explanations for his presence.

And one thought came that made her blush in sudden embarassment, her face turning red imperceptibly in the darkness.

"You're not...you're not naked down there, are you?"

She averted her gaze suddenly in shame. "Do you have any pants on at least?"

The man looked innocently confused, as he bobbed cluelessly by the pier.

"P...pants?"

"Oh dear good lord, you are," she concluded with a groan, covering her eyes. Yet the childlike confusion in his eyes, and the bafflement in his voice, convinced her this was likely in ignorance, and not malice. The poor man must have had his clothes swept away by the tide, when he made the ill-advised decision to go skinny-dipping in the dead of night...

"Wait for me there," she instructed, raising a finger firmly, as though she was a babysitter scolding a naughty child. "I'll fetch you a towel to cover yourself up--"

"That's really not necessary, thank you," the man answered with a cry, desperately reaching out to her, suddenly ever more anxious and embarrassed. "Please, I do have to go now," he said, distress in his voice, backing away from the pier with surprising speed and gracefulness that for a moment Erina thought he had been pulled through the water by an unseen force.

At that moment, a door creaked open.

"What's the matter, Captain?" Speedwagon called out into the dark. "Need any help out there?"

At the sound of his voice the strange blue-haired man suddenly panicked and fearfully retreated with a splash and disappeared into the dark water without a trace, leaving only ripples in his wake.

"Wait!" Erina called after him, but it was too late.

"What's the matter?" Speedwagon hollered in urgency, rushing to Erina's side with loud thumps of his boot-clad feet. "Who are you talking to out here?"

"That man, in the water--" she answered, pointing, to the empty waves below the dock.

"He's gone under."

"Well, we'll wait for him to come up for air, then," Speedwagon suggested.

The two waited fruitlessly for several moments.

Longer than any person could reasonably hold their breath.

"I think he may have been naked," Erina awkwardly quipped, breaking the silence.

Speedwagon scratched his head and sighed. "By the heavens, Captain," he huffed. "You're seeing things, aren't you? Come now in and have a drink," he urged, ushering her toward the tavern. "The salty night air's getting to your head."

"I'm serious, Robert! There really was a man in the water!" Erina insisted.

"Well, poor lad would have drowned by now if you said he'd gone under," Speedwagon reasoned. "Unless..."

"...you don't think he could have been a siren, could he?"

Erina scoffed.

"There's no such thing, silly man."

She'd heard tall tales of the drunken old sailors, sharing bizarre stories at the tavern. Many myths of strange beings in the sea, taking the forms of beautiful women and handsome men, to lure unsuspecting seagoers to a watery grave to be devoured.

And she'd never believed a single one.

Besides, there was no way that young man could have been secretly a monster of the deep. Could any flesh-rending terror of the abyss have eyes so bright, so gentle, so sincere? Devoid of any hint of malice or deception the sirens of myth would have?

Was he even real?

She patted Speedwagon on the back.

"If anything, Robert dear, it's you who probably needs to rest for the night."

"We both do, Captain," he agreed.

With her arm over his shoulder the two headed into the tavern, with Erina shooting back a final glance at the ship, ensuring the Phantom Blood was safely docked.

And to the place where the mysterious man had emerged and disappeared just as unexpectedly, vanishing into the night sea from whence he came.

She didn't even know his name.

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Imagine if Erina first meets mer! Jonathan at night, at the pier. His tail is hidden under the dark water and she doesn't think he's anything other than just a bathing human, and while wary at first she strikes up a conversation and eventually slowly warms up to him, visiting him every night at the dock.

It takes about their third or fourth meeting before she begins questioning "wait, how come you only come in the evenings? And how come I've never seen you leave the water?"