#in my defense...the house is built into a cliffside and that's a very cool idea | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vampirequeenoffan · 7 years ago

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So @purple-penntapus, when you reblogged my fic again I was suddenly reminded of the half-finished second chapter of it I had on my laptop. Turns out it was only about a seventh finished, and by ignoring my finals for far longer than was optimal it is now entirely finished! Yay!

Anyway time to go panic, hope y’all like this!

He didn’t try to talk to Sock that first day. Which sucked. Sock watched him for a while just to be sure he wasn’t going to try to come over to the rocks, but after scooping Ellie up into his arms and giving her what looked from a distance like a stern talking-to, blue-eyes just ignored him. He closed the beach– it had gotten to be that time of the evening– and after making sure the ocean was clear of helpless tourists, he left.

Usually, Sock would leave as soon as the beach closed for the night. Sometimes he’d stick around if it looked like some spring breakers might try to sneak out onto the sand while it was unattended, but summer was in full swing by now and families usually didn’t let their kids stray the same way unattended teenagers did. Tonight, though, he had another reason for lingering on the shore– watching blue-eyes carry his kid up the road and up the slanting hill to the top of the cliff.

There was a house up there. More than one, actually. Houses ringed the cliff sides, clustered on the edges of beaches, littered the coastlines like cigarette butts. Despite the inherent danger the ocean presented, humans still liked to live there. They were drawn to the water’s edge like a fish to a bioluminescent lure. Maybe the danger was a part of the attraction, the awe of something so powerful that it could swallow them up completely and leave no trace behind.

Though considering what little Sock knew of blue-eyes, he probably just lived up there for convenience’s sake. It took him two minutes to walk from the beach to his house, after all– if he hadn’t been avoiding Sock, lounging around in front of the cliffside steps, it probably wouldn’t have taken even that.

So. He knew where Ellie and blue-eyes lived now.

He wasn’t sure what to do with that information, but he sure did have it.

Sock rolled over, stretched, and then dived back into the water. He could breathe above the surface, of course, could handle dry air for a very long time, but it was like how technically he could eat fish instead of picking off humans– it was something functional, but not optimal. The water was cool and soothing, sending an electric tingle along his lateral lines, and as he took a deep breath he could feel his gills relishing in the moisture he’d been denying them while lounging on the rocks for the past hour. Oops. He should really take better care of himself.

Sock let himself lie there for another moment, suspended a few feet below the ocean’s surface. The rocks dropped off dramatically below him, plunging down sharply before bottoming out on the distant sea floor. Mephistopheles had told him once that the rocks were artificially placed, that humans had moved them to the edges of the beach to keep it from washing away. If he hadn’t been told, Sock would have had no idea– the boulders had been integrated seamlessly, seaweed and barnacles crusting over them and claiming them as their own.

With a flick of his tail Sock turned in the water, jetting off into the depths and away from the shore. There were a couple other spots he could try hitting, or he could just troll the waters looking for fishing boats that wouldn’t be impossible to capsize, but he wasn’t really feeling it right now. He’d already done all the work to catch someone earlier– if blue-eyes hadn’t cut in, he’d already have settled the itch in his chest that wanted to drag something squirming deep below the surface. He was never too tired to drown a human, but right now he was too tired to go looking for one.

Instead, he found himself heading towards Mephistopheles’s place.

Wrecked ships were nothing strange on the ocean floor. Even today, when humans had gotten a lot better at building anti-merfolk defenses into the bottoms of their boats, they still managed to topple one now and again. Sock was fairly sure he had a better record than almost anyone else, managing time and time again to find chinks in the armor that kept the humans safe from him– spikes could be whacked off with a rock and some dedication, whirring propellors could be jammed, steel hulls. . . well, he hadn’t cracked those yet, but he would. Someday.

So the ships that passed below him as he swam, old and modern jumbled together in a tribute to ingenuity and death, were common. Sock himself called one of them home most nights, a cute little cuddy cabin he’d personally sunk years ago. He wasn’t the only one of the merfolk to do so either. It was. . . practical. To utilize a space like that.

Mephistopheles’s place was not practical. It was huge. Sock had seen plenty of big ships, massive constructions of metal and frustration, too large to even contemplate sinking. But that was the thing– he’d seen all of them above him, still sailing and irritating the hell out of enterprising merfolk. He’d never seen a ship as large as Mephistopheles’s get wrecked, and he didn’t think he ever would. It must have taken something incredible to topple the monster that Sock could see ahead of him, visible while still at least a mile away.

Its masts pointed up towards a surface it would never return to, like the fingers of a drowning human grasping for the air above. The sea, uncaring, had done what it always did– amalgamated the strange shape into itself. Life grew on and around it. Inside it. Barnacles and muscles and seaweed and kelp, fish that darted in and out of old gunports, and of course, merfolk.

It wasn’t just Mephistopheles who lived here, but it was, without a doubt, his ship. No one had ever questioned it. No one had ever questioned it without consequences, anyway. If you lived there, it was because Mephistopheles let you, or for the few that stayed closest to his self-proclaimed ‘office,’ had offered the space. Sock himself had been asked to stay, told he was welcome anytime, but, well. . .

He liked being close to the shore. Close to humans. Close to fun.

So he just stopped by for visits, like he was doing now.

The dark wooden hull of the ship ran by his side as he swam around, over towards one of the entrances. Sock imagined that, once upon a time, there had only been the human-made ones at the top, but the sheer scale of the ship had necessitated easier access. The one he ducked through now was low, hewn where the bottom of the ship rested against the ocean floor. Once inside, he hesitated a moment, eyes adjusting.

The algae that covered the walls gave off a soft blue light. More than enough to navigate by, even in the darkest nights. The entryway, what used to be a cargo hold, always held at least a few people nestled within the comfy canvas resting bags made of old sails. One of them, a mermaid named Agiel, recognized him and waved. Sock swam over with a grin.

“Sock!” Agiel chirped, taking a bite out of the arm she was holding. She offered it to Sock as she chewed, but took it back with a shrug when he shook his head. It was nice of her, but if he’d really been hungry he’d still be up at the surface looking for his own catch.

“Is Mephistopheles in?” Sock asked, and Agiel nodded.

“Always is,” she said around her mouthful of food, and Sock laughed.

“Yeah, I figured. Doesn’t hurt to check, though!”

Agiel swallowed, then spoke. “He was looking for you earlier, actually. Something about a job?”

Sock’s heart did an interesting flip in his chest, and his grin widened. Mephistopheles always had the best jobs for him. Last time, he’d teamed up with a group of four to scuttle a coast guard’s patrol boat. He’d almost gotten shot, but it had been so worth it. The best strugglers he’d drowned in a while.

At the look in his eyes, Agiel chuckled, tearing off another bite of flesh. The fingers of the arm twitched as she tore muscle and tendon away from the bone.

“Lemmie know if it’s anything good, yeah?” she asked. Sock nodded.

“You got it, Aggy!” he said, then swam off.

Mephistopheles’s ship could be difficult to navigate at times. It was built by humans for humans to travel through, square and cornered and strange and so very unlike the smooth, twisting paths that merfolk favored. Still, Sock had been here often enough that he knew his way around, and with a couple heys to passing merfolk as he made his way through he quickly found himself at the door to Mephistopheles’s office– one of the few rooms here that had doors anymore.

He banged his hand against the wood the way he’d been taught, and waited until Mephistopheles’s voice called for him to come in.

Mephistopheles was, as usual, working. There had been a more aggressive coast guard presence than usual lately, likely due to the height of summer approaching, and Sock knew quite a few people who’d been tasked with bringing Mephistopheles any information about their movements. Now Sock could see the payoff of that effort spread out before him. A massive chart was hung up on the wall, one Sock recognized as the coastline, and as he watched Mephistopheles finished planting the last in a fleet of pins marking. . . well, something. Presumably sightings of the guard, or maybe places they were docked. The maroon pins stood out well against the golden green of the kelp, and Sock took a quiet moment to notice that they were mostly clustered around a spot a few miles northeast of Mephistopheles’s ship.

Huh.

His boss’s face was tense when he turned around, eyebrows caught close together and corners of his mouth tucked low. When his eyes landed on Sock, though, a tired smile lit his face.

��Well well well,” he said, crossing his arms loosely. “If it isn’t my favorite terror of the sea. How’s it going, Sock?”

For a moment, Sock debated telling him about what had happened with the lifeguard. Then he caught sight of the fleet of pins again and decided against it. Mephistopheles was busy enough without listening to every detail of Sock’s hunts– maybe he’d bring it up later once the coast guard thing blew over.

So Sock just shrugged, tail swishing back and forth beneath him to betray his excitement. He pressed a hand against the wall to keep himself in place.

“Pretty good, sir! Didn’t catch anything today, but hey, win some lose some. Agiel said you wanted to see me?”

Mephistopheles nodded. His smile stayed, but the number of teeth it bared lessened. He gestured to the chart behind him.

“Do you know what this is?”

Sock hesitated. His fingers caught at the scarf around his neck, the one already pockmarked with holes from his worrying claws. His fingers hooked into these now, tugging absentmindedly.

“I think so. Is it. . . are those coast guard sightings?”

Mephistopheles made a noncommittal click, earfins flicking with the sound.

“Kinda. See, most of them are, but do you see these?” And here he pointed at the pins themselves, which Sock could now see were made up of two distinct colors– plain maroon pins, and a few with bright red tips. “These are. . . well, we’re not entirely sure. All of them are places where coast guard ships weighed anchor for a while, metaphorically speakin’.”

Coast guard combat crafts generally didn’t possess anchors– too easy to grab the chain and overturn the boat. Better to chance drifting than be capsized. Sock nodded to show he was following so far.

“That in itself isn’t too strange, but apparently they had a couple, eh. . . science-types hanging out on deck. Science-types wearing earplugs. Not only that, but Eligos says they were doing some kinda thing with sonar– messed his ears and nose up good for about an hour.”

Sock winced in sympathy. “Wait, so. . . they’re testing some kind of weapon?”

It hadn’t been his first thought. Earplugs on someone near the ocean usually meant that they weren’t immune to siren song, but in this case, maybe it was meant as protection against whatever sound they’d been pumping into the water.

Mephistopheles sighed, running a hand back through his hair. The smile had gone now, and his expression looked like it had been wrung out.

“Maybe. Can’t rule it out. I’m going to warn non-scouts away just in case, but there’s also the possibility they’re trying to find the Fortuna.”

The Fortuna. That was what Mephistopheles had told Sock was written on the side of this ship. Sock pushed off the wall, getting a bit closer to the map. Maybe squinting at the pins would magically make him understand the bizarre actions of humans.

“Why? It’s a little late for them to want it back. It’s been here for hundreds of years!”

The corner of Mephistopheles’s mouth twitched, and he blew a breath out his gills in a huff. His long, delicate fins swayed with the movement. When he spoke, his words were slow and careful.

“I think. . . maybe they know we’ve been using this place as a central hub.”

And that, well. Sock felt as if he’d been thrust abruptly into the air. His mouth worked for a moment without forming words.

“I– but– how would they know that?” he spluttered. That was, really, one of the advantages that merfolk could always count on– the complete lack of knowledge humans had of what was below the ocean’s surface. It wasn’t through lack of trying, of course. Humanity’s solution to a place where humans kept disappearing was, apparently, to send different humans in the hopes that they’d come back. When those humans didn’t return, they’d send stronger humans, or smarter ones.

Smarter ones like the scientists with earplugs.

Mephistopheles shook his head. “You got me there. But, here, see how they’ve been doing those sound tests in this kinda zig-zaggy line? It would make sense if they’re searching for something. Why not stay in one place if you’re just testing a weapon? I mean, why test it like this at all, right? Why not just scoop up some of the enemy and bring ‘em on in to experiment on?”

At that, Mephistopheles laughed. It continued a bit too long to be comfortable, and Sock awkwardly chuckled a couple times to try to ease the tension. If anything, that made it worse.

“Anyway,” Mephistopheles continued, “That’s more or less where you come in, kid. Last time we sank one of the coast guard’s ships, you were on the successful team. This new. . . let’s call it a sound ship, is a bit sturdier than that last one. It’s gonna take some ingenuity to sink it, but you know what?”

His eyes found Sock’s. He clapped his shoulder, just once, and gave Sock a smile that was only a little exhausted.

“You’re the best I’ve got in that department.”

There was a rush of cold in Sock’s cheeks. His hands found his scarf again, fingers twisting into it, and he had to bite his lip to keep his smile from spreading too wide. Mephistopheles had already turned back to the chart, ready to move on, but Sock let the compliment hum in his chest a little longer before doing the same.

“What do you say, Sock? Up for the challenge? I’ll have a bit more scouting done of course, get you and your team some detailed information about–”

“Yes!” Sock blurted, unable to wait any longer. “Yes, definitely! I’d love to!”

His tail thrashed, and Mephistopheles put a hand on his head to keep him from careening up towards the ceiling. He was still smiling as he ruffled Sock’s hair.

“That’s what I thought. Really important, though– you can eat the coast guards, I couldn’t care less what happens to them, but the scientists? I’m gonna need you guys to. . . bring them in for a chat. Use one of those caves you usually play with your food in, you know the ones.”

Sock did. There were a few underwater caves that had been found to have air pockets in them, great for when you wanted to. . . take your time with your prey. Most of the caves smelled like rust and meat by now, one of Sock’s favorite smells.

“Can I help? You know, talk to them?” he asked. Mephistopheles gave his hair one more decisive ruffle before pulling his hand away.

“We’ll see. Depends on how much they wanna say to begin with. I think there’s a good possibility we’ll wind up needing your special brand of. . . talking.”

Sock’s fins fluttered in excitement. “This is going to be fun,” he purred. He could almost smell rust already.

Mephistopheles, meanwhile, was pulling out a length of notes, already going back to work. Sock had known him too long to think it was rude– the vast majority of his conversations with his boss took place in a fraction of Mephistopheles’s full attention. He was always thinking about twelve things at once. Sock thought, not for the first time, that he could use a break.

After this scientist thing.

And dealing with whatever information they recovered.

And. . . yeah. But eventually.

“Don’t suppose I can convince you to stay here until we pull this off?” Mephistopheles asked, but they both knew the answer. Sock gave it anyway.

“What can I say? I’m married to the hunt. You know where to find me when you need me, though!”

Mephistopheles nodded. It was a small motion, contained. Sock was back on split attention. “That I do.”

Sock took that as his cue to leave. He swam out through the door, but hesitated before he’d closed it behind him. He ducked his head back in.

“Mephistopheles?”

An absent grunt. “Yeah, kid?”

“You got any advice when it comes to hunting lifeguards?”

At that, Mephistopheles looked up. “Yeah. Don’t.”

Sock’s response, “Oh,” was small. His boss, hearing it, shook his head. It made his hair and fins billow.

“It’s just more hassle than it’s worth, kid. At least the good old CG comes out on the water, you know? Lifeguards stay too far back, they’re skittish like that.” He paused. Tilted his chin. “Why’re you asking?”

Sock shrugged, already closing the door. “Just curious!” he chirped, and then, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“. . .yeah. Yeah, sure thing, kid. I’ll let you know when everything’s ready.”

The last he saw of his boss, he was back to looking between his notes and his wall of pins. He set a new one into place just as Sock’s view was cut off by the closing door.

That night, settled into the cozy nest he’d built himself in his cuddy cabin, Sock thought about scientists. He stared up into the dark of the cabin’s ceiling, the ceiling that was lit with no blue glow, and tried to imagine what the sound ship might look like.

The coast guard was, well, bad. But they were a bad you could fight, a bad you could kill. A bad that only tried to kill you. If the coast guard got to you, you’d wind up on the ocean floor with a bullet in your head or your gills slashed– violent ways to go, sure, but ones you could understand. When the scientists got to you. . . you never came back.

He’d only ever seen scientists once. A group of them– he suspected they might travel in packs– had been out on the end of a dock very late at night, lowering strange devices into the water and speaking to each other in low voices. There had been a coast guard detail with them, but they’d hung back, giving the strange white-coated humans space to work. Sock had watched them from a distance for a long while, trying to figure out what they were doing. Then a light was being pointed at him and the coast guards were shouting, so Sock ducked back under the water and swam away before they could start trying to shoot him.

It had been a strange encounter. He’d come back to the spot later to check things out, but there was no trace of what had happened. He’d long since resigned himself to never knowing, which had driven him crazy for a good while after. Then, eventually, the question had been buried beneath the day-to-day, only coming up in the dark of night when he was hanging out at Mephistopheles’s place, swapping stories with the other merfolk under his command and hearing tall tales of what the others thought scientists did to you when they got you. Sock’s favorite was that they sawed off your tail and made you into one of them– it was the one that was least likely to be true, sure, but it was definitely the scariest to think about. That all scientists had once been merfolk just like them.

Sock dreamed about scientists with sharp white teeth and bright white coats. They ripped at his scales with claws humans didn’t possess, tearing his tail away in bloody strokes. He managed to free himself before they could do the same to his mind, and he tackled one of them to the floor and started to claw at them instead. He shredded and tore and bit until the floor smelled like rust and meat. Until all that was left of the scientist was those pretty blue eyes.

When he woke up, he wasn’t sure whether it was a good dream or not.

#Welcome to hell #w2h #Sock Sowachowski #Jonathan Combs #Sockathan #Eventually I swear #Mephistopheles #Death tw #Gore tw #Cannibalism tw #even though it is not TECHNICALLY cannibalism I guess #Haha I hate everything I write now but! I don't care!#Perks of posting everything even when you think it's shit #Mermaid AU

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