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stillness-in-green · 3 years

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MVA In Memoriam (4/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party) (Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade)

Part Four, Episode 111: Origin: Shimura Tenko

Chapter 233 – Bright Future

• Twice clearly having arranged a Skeptic puppet to where its arm can be used as a pillow for Toga’s neck. A cute little character detail while also being kind of disturbing? Very on-brand for the League! A not-immediately-plot-crucial visual of a member of the League demonstrating obvious care for another member? The guillotine awaits!

• A little explanation about how clones’ physicality and memories work relative to the last time Twice saw the people the clones are based on. This is a very useful little nod of explanation to something that remained unclear from the dialogue of Mr. Clone-press last chapter. Twice’s quirk is pretty arcane in its ins and outs, frankly, and the clearer those details are, the fewer plot holes you’re leaving for later.

• The scene of Skeptic being right on the verge of confronting Twice. Skeptic has, oh, about five moments where he’s obviously a big tense neurotic who’s unpleasant to be around if things aren’t going his way, and the anime deleted or downplayed all but two of them. As ever, it’s obscenely damaging to the characterization of the MLA cast, who we have little enough time with as it is. Further, it was a particularly weird choice to make with Skeptic, who is as of this writing the only major MLA character who’ll emerge still free and active from the War Arc. Why shaft the characterization of the one of new characters who’s going to be getting the most attention out of any of them in the next arc, with yet more scenes yet to come after?[1]

• A full page’s-worth of Spinner’s rationalizations on targeting Trumpet and ordering the Twice doubles to do the same. This lays out the details on why targeting Trumpet stands to relieve some of the load on Shigaraki. It isn’t because Trumpet’s quirk makes the crowds more dangerous, though that is true. Spinner targets Trumpet because he’s seen enough to know that attacking the MLA’s leaders gets them crazy riled up; he knows that if he makes himself a threat to Trumpet, then all Trumpet’s followers’ attention will shift focus to Spinner, leaving Shigaraki with less to deal with. Spinner also knows that that is ludicrously dangerous to him personally, given his weak quirk, but he actively makes that choice anyway, because that’s how much he’s devoted himself to Shigaraki without (yet) quite articulating the nature and reasons for that devotion. Targeting Trumpet without any of that reasoning made for a perfectly sound tactical decision, but it missed the regard Spinner shows the unnamed mobs of the MLA, and it really missed the probable savage beatdown and even possible death that Spinner consciously chooses to risk for Shigaraki’s sake. Of course, a chunk of what the episode deleted is flashbacks to scenes the anime also cut, so they couldn’t figure into Anime!Spinner’s reasoning. This does not excuse yet more cuts to Spinner’s arc and characterization; it only adds to how badly the anime maimed him. Also, on a less salty but still confused note, deleting all the Twice clones from the beginning of the scene and just having Spinner running along a wall past mobs of people instead of laboriously fighting his way through the street to the van was really dumb. Why did all those MLA people just stand there and let him run by? Where did all the Twice clones that just helped save Spinner from a huge flurry of long-distance attacks disappear to? Come on.

• Trumpet’s thought that using Sevens Loud will draw every bit of strength from their warriors, but that it’s necessary. Setting aside that it looks far less necessary when there hasn’t been a crowd of Twice clones fighting Trumpet’s people this whole time, just Spinner by his lonesome, we still lost quite a bit to this cut. Firstly, a nuance on the trade-off Incite gives—that its stat-boost is temporary, and that it’s borrowing from the future to pay for the present, a stock that is limited and a bill that will come due when the effect wears off. Secondly, it’s another demonstration that the MLA leaders aren’t just thoughtlessly wasting their followers’ lives; they’re very consciously doing cost/benefit analysis on how much danger their people are in versus what stands to be gained by the potential exertion or outright deaths those people will suffer. It’s cold reasoning, yes, but that’s how the Liberation Army operates: not for the personal gain or lackadaisical ease of the people on top—Trumpet would just have been in the tower speaking through city-wide loudspeakers, if that were the case—but for the advancement of the group’s ideals. It also just grants Trumpet some interiority, but of course the anime can’t have that.

• The note in Trumpet’s meta-ability explanation that the more his voice causes the air to vibrate, the stronger Incite’s effect. This is—good god, it is literally the entire design mentality behind Sevens Loud! Sevens Loud purpose isn't to make his voice louder so more people can hear him (which I would think is the most logical assumption an anime-only person would make as to why he puts it on); it’s to make himself louder because being louder enhances the boost. It’s about the quality of the effect, not the quantity of targets. This is why Trumpet has the thought about how using Sevens Loud will drain the strength reserves of his people. There’d be no correlation there if Sevens Loud were only about boosting his range.

• When Spinner got porcupined in the anime, they did a close-up on his face, possibly to avoid the gore of showing the spines piercing through his forearm. That’s fine, but they also emphasized the reaction by having him lose his grip on the huge fuck-off knife he had clutched in his teeth. In the manga, sure, he yells in pain, but he doesn’t lose the knife. Indeed, he gets the guy off him by slashing at him with it—a shot the anime dropped. So Spinner doesn’t even get to keep displays of his pain tolerance, a trait he doubtless improved during those six weeks against Machia. Why does the anime hate Spinner so much, you guys? Why did it go out of its way to make him look lamer, when Dabi and Toga were out there getting anime-original flourishes to make them look cooler?

• Spinner’s thoughts, “When I get inspired to act, I don’t know what the heck I’m doing! I’m just a loser jumping on a bandwagon. Or at least that’s what it looks like.” A humorous bit of self-awareness from Spinner here. The anime got at the self-awareness. The humor, as we’ll see, not so much.

• Spinner’s thoughts, “Look at me. Look at me!! With all that prejudice in your eyes!” Hah hah, laughed BNHA the anime nervously, what prejudice are you talking about, Spinner? No idea what you could possibly be referring to there! This one’s particularly annoying because, while one might think that the anime was just dodging the heteromorphobia angle it eradicated all references to back at the beginning of the arc, the prejudice line isn’t even about heteromorphobia, not really. See, the Japanese line there literally translates to, “With those colored glasses!”—to see with colored glasses being a Japanese idiom for seeing something from a biased viewpoint. So aside from being a wordplay jab at Trumpet’s choice in eyewear, it’s also about Trumpet’s expressed view that Spinner, having been a shut-in with a weak quirk who decided to take his resentment out on the world, can’t possibly amount to anything much. So, what, did the people in charge of making those cuts think Trumpet was right? Why even keep the line where he disparages Spinner if you’re not going to let Spinner call it what it is? He’s not calling out fantasy racism there, anime! He’s calling out the bias against weak quirks that even the good guys in this world sometimes partake in! Possibly it’s because non-villains in the world[2] sometimes use reasoning that leads logically to quirk supremacism that the anime got gunshy with it, or it was more reluctance to give the villains—and the Too-Real Iguchi Shuuichi especially—moral ground for accusations against their society that get too close to real life. Whatever the motivation, it’s a bullshit cut.

• Shigaraki calling RD “Detnerat,” presumably because he neither knows RD’s real name nor cares to dignify him by using his code name. The anime, again, made neither the connection nor Shigaraki’s recognition explicit, so it lost the specificity and pettiness of that little snub.

• A little exchange between Giran and a Twice clone as they flee. It doesn’t give you much you wouldn’t assume just from seeing them flee, but it always feels more immediate and empathetic when the characters talk and you can see their expressions, instead of just a quick shot of them from behind as they run away in complete silence. Heck, running away in complete silence is actively out of character for Twice!

• Because the anime has some kind of aversion/restriction on showing hand-related violence, it radically changed how Shigaraki lost his fingers,[3] resulting in the loss of several important shots. To the best of my parsing, in the manga, when Re-Destro makes that first big jump to avoid Shigaraki’s decay wave, he comes back down specifically aiming for Shigaraki’s outstretched left hand, spread wide and flat on the ground. Shigaraki tries to evade (you can see the blur of his left arm in the panel where RD lands), but either RD does manage to clip the hand or he simply hits the ground with so much force that the sheer explosive burst of rock shreds Shigaraki’s hand and part of his coat sleeve. Being so much larger, RD then simply snags Shigaraki by the wrist before he can get out of range. It’s very fast, a burst of speed and violence, and very different (read: cooler) from Shigaraki flipping end over end in slow motion in a way that seemed to imply visually that he was thrown well out of RD’s grabbing range. As to the shots we lost? I counted three. First, Hana’s hand crumpling amidst all the flying debris. Second, that big dramatic panel of Shigaraki’s maimed hand ribboning blood into the air as the narration box finally drops Re-Destro’s identity and code name. Third, the shot of him catching Shigaraki, almost delicately, between one thumb and forefinger and delivering the, “Was it this hand that committed such evil acts?” line—a clear threat to what of that hand Shigaraki has remaining—as we find out what his meta-ability is. This is all hugely dramatic in the manga, because, of course, readers always assumed Shigaraki needed all five fingers to activate his quirk, and here Re-Destro nigh-effortlessly robs him of fully half his capacity to use it. It’s a shocking turn-around and instantly ups RD’s threat level by allowing him to permanently maim Shigaraki in a way that no one, hero or villain, has done before or since. Robbing Re-Destro of the immediacy of that seemingly devastating blow—inflicted within moments of meeting the real Shigaraki—did immeasurable damage to his credibility as an arc boss. The shot in the manga is also just arresting visually, with RD finally getting to properly loom over Shigaraki. Most of the shots up to this point have been framed such that, while RD is obviously bigger, he and Shigaraki have still been moving and fighting in a pretty level way. This is the first place where the viewer is situated so squarely behind Shigaraki that they can really feel how massive RD is in comparison. It’s certainly a more impressive visual than this mess—thanks, anime; thanks, whatever broadcasting standards forced overworked and uninspired animators to undertake a redraw of RD’s quirk reveal panel when every other member of the MLA brass had theirs carried over directly from the manga.

• A chapter-ending cliffhanger of Slidin’ Go helping direct traffic on the outskirts of Deika and the warning rumble as Gigantomachia approaches. Aside from being a nice little tension boost—Will Gigantomachia roll up just in time to see Re-Destro making a mess of Shigaraki? Who will he target? Will Shigaraki ever be able to win him over if he sees a scene like that?—it’s good foreshadowing for what the news reports will eventually be saying. Remember, the claim is that a bunch of villains lured Deika’s heroes away and then attacked the city while it was defenseless; that’s why we never see any of the MLA’s heroes involved with the fight once it starts. And now, here, we find out where they’ve been the whole time: making sure no outsiders get in who might be able to undermine that narrative.

Framing Shifts

• Once again had an MLA member using their Detnerat item say its name out loud, when it’s clear in the manga that they’re just thinking the names internally. Once again, it was kind of silly.

• When Spinner flashes back to watching Stain on TV and being inspired, the manga uses a shot of Stain’s face, snarling and defiant. The anime used—a shot of Stain from behind, only visible from the shoulders to the knees, hunched so that his lower back and ass were towards the camera. Bones… What exactly were you implying lit Spinner’s fire there? Or did you just not have the time or budget to go pull Stain’s reference sheets for drawing his face?

• A tone issue, but a major one: Spinner should be grinning, face alight with accusatory challenge, as he hurls his accusations of the MLA/Trumpet being the same bandwagon-jumping nobodies that he is. This is the moment in the manga where we see Spinner truly throw his hesitations and his doubts to the wind and embrace Shigaraki’s nihilistic fervor and the beauty, value and profundity of emptiness. So what if I’m empty? So what if he wants emptiness? Who cares about other peoples’ ideals if their ideals leave no room for me? It’s not a heroic triumph, but it’s a triumph all the same, and losing Spinner’s smile made the moment far too bitter.

• Meanwhile, in exactly the opposite problem, Shigaraki by this point is not smiling. In fact, he’s barely on his feet, swaying violently in place with accompanying sound effects. While his words are openly mocking, he seems to wholly lack the energy to back them up with his usual verve. The anime didn’t have him smiling, admittedly, but the whole time the ‘camera’ wasn’t directly on his face, his voice actor was reading the lines with an uneven, chuckling cadence that suggested Shigaraki was seconds away from breaking into howls of laughter. He was also, of course, impossibly clean, at a point at which his manga counterpart is muddy, bloody and tattered from the horrifically extended combat he’s been living for six weeks. It’s stuff like this that made it so impossible to take the Army or even Machia as much of a threat in the anime, when, other than the red cords on his hands being broken, Shigaraki looked absolutely no different than usual.

Additions

• Gave Spinner a tiny bit of new animation when he got mobbed by people hopped up on Incite. It was nice, but if they were going to give him a flourish, I’d rather it have come when he swipes Porcupine Dude off him with a combat knife. Or, you know, just kept the bit of him telling the Twices to attack and his reasoning on why.

• Cut inside briefly to show a ballerina girl dancing through a darkened apartment right before she sliced a neat circle out of the wall. I love it, A+, exactly the kind of expansion on the action of the manga I wanted to see. My only complaint is that her manga self looked more like Pearl from Steven Universe.[4] XD

• A quick new shot of RD when Shigaraki was hounding him about his feelings. His teeth were visibly gritted, the corners of his mouth pulled down. It stands out because there’s only one shot of RD there in the manga, and in it, he’s smiling, close-mouthed and calm. The anime copied said shot, smile and all, then cut away, and when it cut back, Re-Destro had a totally different expression on his face. Baffling. Anime!RD having a dour scowl everywhere manga!RD is smiling in a tight, controlled way was all over the fight scene, and it detracted from the sense of RD’s menace every time.

Chapter 234 – Destruction Sense

• The illustration(s) accompanying Re-Destro’s, “Let’s not judge people by their quirks,” line. The pictures are cute, but the real loss there was the note informing us that they’re excerpts from a children’s book published by Shoowaysha—Curious’s outfit—called Quirks and Us. That’s a very concrete illustration of the kinds of things the MLA is getting up to in the world, and an equally concrete thing an anime-only viewer lost. Of course, that viewer never even found out Curious was in publishing, so it wouldn’t have meant anything on that front, but there is one other thing I think is notable: the way that book implies that the only people explicitly pushing a “don’t judge other people by their quirks” message are the radical Liberationists. See, the rest of the story touches on the virtues of a nonjudgmental attitude here and there, but actually finding people willing to say it out loud is—unprecedented, I think. Deku comes across situations where he could say something like that multiple times and he never, ever does—not to Shouto, nor to Shinsou, nor to Eri, nor to the giant fox lady. And that’s not even touching on Shouji’s mask, or the discrimination Spinner faced, or the CRC “losing support” without being declared illegal. I think the manga itself is against judging people by their quirks, but it’s interesting that it doesn’t make its characters into mouthpieces to say as much. This is because its characters are thoroughly enmeshed in a society that very much does judge people by their quirks, regardless of whether or not it will say that doing so is bad or rude or prejudiced. Re-Destro and the MLA aren’t immune, of course—Re-Destro himself says that quirks are linked to personality—but they adhere to a different set of values than the larger society does. While Hero Society talks about quirks in terms of being heroic and/or useful versus villainous and/or useless, the MLA spectrums instead emphasize how capable a person’s quirk is of helping them exert their will and how ambitious the quirk’s bearer is in that exertion. That is, their ethics are less about morality and utility-to-society than they are about aspiration and utility-to-self.[5] Both worldviews have their pros and cons, but that, I think, is what the children’s book is getting at when it says not to “judge”—don’t assign an arbitrary moral value to a quirk; judge a person by their actions. And isn’t it interesting, that the only explicit verbal statement of that value comes from the leader of a radical cult descended from a famous insurrectionist quoting a children’s book published by a member of selfsame radical cult? The value is not ever stated by a member of the heroic cast, so are we to assume that the heroes don't actually believe it? Do people profess to believe it but everyone knows it’s only for courtesy’s sake, with only the MLA willing to breach that wall of “things we don’t talk about in polite society” to actually talk about it in anything other than platitudes? Obviously, you lose this entire line of discussion when the "don't judge people by their quirks" value is just never mentioned at all.

• The phrase, “In that case,” from RD’s, “You will never measure up to me.” It establishes continuity to what RD was saying before. He’s not taking breaks from talking while Shigaraki has flashbacks; the two are happening concurrently.

• RD’s, “Cracking apart…?” reaction to his Decayed fingertip, and the dripping blood from the injury. I’m not hugely fussed about the former, but I like the latter as indicative of what Re-Destro’s Stress powers actually do. That is to say, he isn’t covering himself in a thick shell of Stress power or something; his Stress powers make him physically larger, infusing his body and swelling his size. That’s why he bleeds when Shigaraki touches his fingertip. Admittedly, the size distinction was more obvious in the anime, where the audience watched RD’s shoulders inflate like balloons last episode, compared to the manga, where you don’t get in-between animation. Still, given that RD still has that wound even when he goes back down to normal size, and is still wearing bandages for his speech a week later,[6] it’d be nice to mark the severity of the wound with a bit of blood. Oddly, the anime did keep the wound for the crater scene, visible red slices opened in the flesh along the length of his finger, very obviously the sort of injury that would have bled upon being first sustained. Maybe RD ran afoul of whatever the studio mandate is on when Decay has a dust effect and when it leaves gore? (More of that later.)

• Shigaraki’s, “Mother!” for the first panel we see of her. It’s obvious enough who she probably is, but odd that we got a whole bunch of narration for Hana, and likewise an acknowledgment of his grandparents, but not even a single word for Nao.

• Very significantly drops the grandfather’s, “Eating yummy things helps make the sadness go away.” Grandpa’s not just randomly handing Tenko his favorite snack in that memory—he’s trying to treat some kind of grief or wrong without actually addressing the wrong, opting to just put a flavorful band-aid on it. That could be fine if it were something outside Grandpa’s control, but we’ve already gotten some early hints from Hana’s phrasing that things are not okay in the household, and thus the grandfather’s attempt to bribe Tenko with sweets is just as ominous a sign of what’s to come as the grandmother’s attempt to guilt him into not crying lest he make her cry too.

• A little shot of Shigaraki stirring in the rubble when RD answers the phone. It’s a nice demonstration of their size difference, especially comparing both of them to Machia, who we just saw tearing through buildings like the kaiju his theme music declares him to be.

Framing Shifts

• When Shigaraki narrates that Hana always took him by the hand when he got weepy, she actually does take his hand in the manga, her fingers wrapped around his, his clasped over hers. It emphasizes that this is what he can’t do anymore, simply hold hands with people, the innocence lost aspect, and it suggests the closeness he once had with his sister. In the anime, she reached out a hand but wound up taking him by the wrist instead, his hand splayed open beneath hers. This suggested, albeit very implicitly, that maybe that innocence was something he never had from the beginning; it also suggested less reciprocity in his relationship with Hana. Even though Tomura said in narration that their hands were joined, what we saw was that Hana just pulled him where she wanted him and he didn’t fight her on it, not that he held her hand in return. Alternatively, the anime could have been drawing a parallel to how her hand would eventually be gripping his wrist in a much different context (a more necrotic one, for starters) later in life, though if that's what they were going for, they could have stood to tweak the dialogue so it actually matched the onscreen action. (Credit to @robotlesbianjavert and @aysall respectively for these two theories!)

• Shigaraki still having his fingers when Re-Destro squeezed his hand made RD look like a real moron. I assume the intention was that he assumed he’d done enough damage—broken bones, torn ligaments, etc—to prevent Shigaraki from being able to move his hand in more than spastic twitches, but like, if all it takes is a hard enough spasmodic clench to dust you, you are playing much riskier games than the MLA is generally portrayed as favoring. (Not that the anime kept many of the scenes that demonstrated all the planning and prep that the MLA did as groundwork for their attack, as I have complained about at length.) In the same sequence, Anime!RD turned and bodily hurled Shigaraki away from him, while Manga!RD threw him a similar distance with nothing more than a flick of a finger. Anime, why you gotta make Re-Destro look so lame all the time?

Additions

• Just one episode prior, the anime managed to turn in an entirely reasonable assemblage of swiping and dodging between Shigaraki and Re-Destro while RD was rambling on about the Mother of Quirks. What the hell was the excuse for this episode’s ridiculous shot of Shigaraki literally running circles—big, broad circles—around RD multiple times in the time it took RD to finish one (1) thought? For heaven’s sake, if you don’t have the budget for flashy, just use slow motion or more flashback animation or something. I know there’s more leeway for long thoughts in manga, where the reader understands that thoughts are moving far faster than action, and that it can be hard to bridge that gap for anime, where motion is motion but voice acting still has to rattle its way to the end of a sentence. I understand that measures have to be taken to account for that. Still, I promise, something that just looks a bit padded is much preferable to something that looks outright dumb.

• I admit to having found huge Stress monster RD pulling out a teeeeeny-tiny cellphone very funny—even more so the distinct cracking sound it made when Skeptic reported in bad news and RD’s fingers tightened infinitesimally—but the manga suggests fairly strongly that RD’s just answering on some kind of earpiece or micro-receiver, the same kind of thing Ujiko hands out and that Skeptic is associated with on multiple occasions. It’d be nice if RD could have kept more of the jokes he actually makes, the ones that stem from his native good humor, rather than the anime making up new ones based entirely in the contrast of Re-Destro and the viewer’s expectations of Re-Destro.

Chapter 235 – Shimura Tenko: Origin

• The man at the door, whom Nao is apologizing to at the beginning of the Tenko flashback and the apparent reason Tenko got busted for playing hero. I don’t love the way deleting this obscured that Tenko, in some fashion, troubled someone to lead to Kotarou dragging him down the hall (the anime also dropped Kotarou’s subsequent line, “Causing trouble?!” that’s supposed to supplement his, “Playing hero again?”), but it’s not like the manga doesn’t imply that the same thing would happen for any hero-based rules infraction, regardless of whether it troubled strangers or not. No, the much, much funnier thing to me is how it just fuckin’ torpedoed the most obvious thing people point to when they posit that All For One gave Tenko Decay, kicking off the entire tragedy: the man at the door with the conspicuously shadowed face and the even more conspicuously AFO-like suit and dress shirt with the top button unfastened. Listen, I hate that theory and what it would do to the narrative of Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko as Hero Society’s long-overdue reckoning, the villain they can’t put down and the victim they can’t silence, so watching the anime summarily cut out the scene that really kicked the theory into overdrive was very validating! Conversely, I still can't deny that it's a plausible theory, so if it does turn out to be true, that means the anime shot itself in the foot on the most obvious bit of foreshadowing this side of AFO addressing Tenko by name when he finds him in the alley. The schadenfreude of that would also be very funny. Really, unlike every other cut this season, I regard this one as win-win for my personal experience with the anime. Incidentally, I was very prepared to complain about the anime dropping all the changes of clothes the Shimura family goes through over the course of the flashback—I regard the timelapse as one of the major points against the AFO Gave Tenko Decay theory, since it’s never taken a quirk bestowed by AFO multiple days, maybe even multiple weeks, to kick in before—but it turns out I’m a lot less bothered about them not taking the time to change the side characters’ clothes when the anime also deletes the dude at the door who is the only reason I care about clarity re: how much time the flashback covers! But just for the record, while they had more outfits than I was expecting them to, the family did go through fewer changes of clothes in the anime than in the manga.

• The full echo of the line about kids being sneaky and simple in favor of Narrator!Shigaraki just letting out this exhausted, rueful, “Ahhh, kids are…” I actually rather like it. It’s a clear reference back to the earlier line without having to restate the whole thing, and Uchiyama Kouki’s delivery is really excellent.

• Kotaro’s first slap of Tenko, the only one directly portrayed on-panel, and Mon-chan’s barking in response. On the one hand, I think there’s an argument to be made for the scene flowing a bit better like this—why wouldn’t Grandpa try to stop him from going for that second slap; why wouldn’t Nao pass Hana off to Grandma and do something instead of just standing there yelling for the entire scene? It makes a bit more sense if they’re hesitant to intervene because Kotarou has “only” grabbed at Tenko’s collar and they don’t yet know how that it’s going to escalate to naked physical violence in a way that it never has before. On the other hand, that first slap is so visceral and shocking. Nowhere else in the manga is domestic violence portrayed more sharply and directly, in greater detail or more cruelly generous panel space than in this moment. It’s in the difference in size between Kotarou and Tenko, the force behind the hit that’s enough to knock Tenko clear off his feet, the pages upon pages of gut-churning lead-up to this moment and what we know will be following soon after. Also too, it makes the family’s failure to help Tenko much worse that no one else acts when Kotarou pulls back for a second hit. The first one, you could almost excuse because no one saw it coming; the second throws those justifications out the window and spits on them afterward. Two hits are important—not only for what they tell Tenko in the moment about his family's inaction, but because two hits speak in ways one hit doesn't to how wildly uneven the power balance is in the house, that Nao and her parents could witness something like that and not only fail to intercede, but then take who knows how long to work up the courage to confront Kotarou afterwards. I understand very well the fear of showing this in a family TV timeslot—the violence is so much more real than any big fantasy beat-‘em-up could ever be—but it’s the kind of thing that really drives home what Tenko needed to be saved from even back then, a social issue that heroes as they currently exist were in no position to address. Far from demonstrating that heroes aren't at fault for what happened to Tenko, though, what this scene truly does is vividly illustrate the flaws in All Might's social contract, in which his power and smile seem to promise that he can save absolutely everyone, only to leave children like Tenko out in the cold with no explanation as to why. It's brutal because it has to be, and the anime shying away from depicting Kotarou's physical abuse undercut that.

Framing Shifts

• There was a bizarre, nonsensical change to the scene at the beginning of the chapter where RD is figuring out how Shigaraki survived/got back up after taking a Burden attack head-on. The manga’s explanation is that Shigaraki didn’t actually take a full force hit because he was Decaying it even as it was blowing him back. This is somewhat silly, given that even a reduced-strength Burden is still strong enough to put him through multiple buildings. It is, however, less silly than the anime’s take, in which Shigaraki touched Re-Destro rather than the corporealized Stress of Burden. How Re-Destro survived a full-fingered touch from Shigaraki’s completely uninjured right hand[7] went totally unexplained; the problem was then compounded by Re-Destro delivering manga-accurate lines about Burden not being an evadable attack despite “evasion” having nothing to do with Shigaraki’s actions. Anime!Shigaraki didn’t dodge the Burden attack any more than Manga!Shigaraki did; unlike Manga!Shigaraki, however, Anime!Shigaraki also did nothing to reduce the impact of the attack. So not only was how Shigaraki survived the Burden attack not explained, the change to the material also opened up the plot hole of how Re-Destro survived a direct touch attack that Shigaraki in the manga never lands.

• There was also an extremely weird decision made to give Tenko dark, gray-blue eyes, obviously reminiscent of Nana’s, and suggest that they became red at the same time as his hair was changing to white. But in the manga, other than the size, there’s no difference between young Tenko’s eyes and how Shigaraki’s eyes have always been drawn—an unshaded iris with a visible pupil and a relatively thick line delineating the iris from the white of the sclera. Tenko’s eyes never matched those of anyone else in his family, least of all his dark-eyed grandmother. His hair changed color because of a trauma response,[8] but his eyes were always red.

• Relocated Shigaraki’s first, “Little kids…are sneakier than you’d expect. And simpler,” to underscore Hana showing him Nana’s picture in the study, squarely centering the line on her. And like, yes, that line does get its bitter echo later when Hana panics in the face of her father’s fury and throws the blame onto Tenko—but that line isn’t just about her; it’s also about what Tenko wanted to hear from the other adults in his life. It didn’t matter that his father didn’t approve; if he could get at least one adult to say he could be a hero, to take his side, then he could feel vindicated. It’s a child’s sneaky, simple reasoning: if an adult’s words are absolute, you just have to get one (1) adult to agree with you. It’s asking Dad if you can do something you don’t think Mom will agree to, and then going to Mom with Dad’s permission held defensively in-hand. Laying the line over Hana obscures that it’s as much about Tenko’s craving for external validation as it is Hana’s (entirely understandable) deceitful streak.

• After half a season full of internal monologue being voiced aloud even when it made little sense to do so, the anime decided to render clearly talk-bubbled dialogue—Tenko’s chatting at Mon about how he feels like he could take on the world—as internal monologue instead. Who talks to their animals in their heads when they could be talking at them directly like pet owners the world over?

Additions

• Added a few extra stills of Kotarou rebuking Tenko and dragging him around. I don’t think they’re inaccurate to the situation, though I wonder if it really needed to be underlined two more times than the manga did. Maybe they were trying to make up in advance for deleting the first slap?

• Added a few new stills of Nana and child!Kotarou. They hurt my soul and I love them without reservation.

Chapter 236 – Shimura Tenko: Origin, Part 2

• Hana’s second apology. What needs to get across was communicated with her first apology, but I do think the second one adds some naturalism to the dialogue. It feels very normal for a child feeling extremely guilty to apologize multiple times, like the more times they say it, the more true/convincing it will become.

• A bit of Tenko’s internal monologue—thinking Hana’s name, and Mon’s, and that he can’t talk. The anime slipped some attempts at verbalizing “Mon” into the dialogue, and it was painfully obvious just from listening to him gag and choke that he was too horror-struck to get words out, in ways that would be a little harder to convey on the page. Also, he thinks again that he can’t talk just as Hana runs away, so it gets across regardless. No real complaints here.

• Some thoughts about how he’s itchy, which, given what his itch represents (or at least what he thinks it does), they probably should have kept for continuity’s sake.

• Tenko’s last, “Hana-chan!” just as he grabs for her. I can imagine it having just that little bit more desperate impact, especially given Sekine Arisa’s great delivery of the first “Hana-chan!” but his delivery of the first one was great—weeks later, I can still remember it clearly—so it’s not a snip I’m inclined to doomsay about.

• Hana’s verbalization as the Decay hits her. Given that they kept Mon-chan’s last whimper, it’s kind of inconsistent not to keep this. It’s grueling, sure, but no more so than the rest of the horror show shortly to follow.

• An echo of Nao’s defense of Kotarou’s anti-hero stance. Frankly, I think anime already over-indulges in echoing dialogue we’ve heard not ten minutes prior, so I don’t mind losing this—in the manga, the moments would have fallen in different chapters, so it makes more sense to squeeze in the little reminder, but that wasn’t necessary for the anime, in which the original moment and the callback happened barely more than five minutes apart. It was obvious what the mental image was meant to draw attention to, since Tomura was narrating about exactly what his grievance was, and the image was followed by the two equivalent moments with the grandparents. (Admittedly, it hurt that correlation a bit that Grandpa’s line about the ohagi being intended to make the sadness go away got cut, but the sentiment was pretty clear from the man’s expression of nervy, abashed guilt regardless.)

• The line of Decay that splits Nao’s eye, one of the more vividly horrific little grace notes in the chapter. It undercut the grotesquerie just the tiniest bit, but the scene’s grotesque as-is, so I can understand that slight edit for TV standards. The discrepancy between Decay-to-dust and Decay-to-gore, discussed below in Framing Shifts, was much more damaging.

• A shot of Kotarou just after he hits Tenko with the tree pruning shears in which he looks, briefly, incredibly distraught, like he’s just realized what a monster he’s become. The anime didn’t make the slightest of attempts to keep that spasm of horror, grief, and regret, and thus lost that last moment of sympathy for a man deeply traumatized by a heroic character’s actions. It’s my only complaint about Anime!Kotarou, who I was otherwise far more pleased with than I was afraid might be the case, but it’s a complaint I must register nonetheless.

• A bit of inarticulate yelling before Tenko screams, “You... Die!!” It helps get across Tenko’s rage overflowing, to have that wordless garble before he can actually wrap words around it. He was still having trouble talking, too, so it makes sense that his first vocalization would just be a long, incomprehensible screech. That said, with the music there to supplement the mood in a way the manga would lack, I don’t think the anime’s rendition of the scene suffered overmuch from its absence.

Framing Shifts

• The anime, of course, has always gone the dust route for Decay because Decay is a little too gruesome for family hour TV, and anyway, when Tomura gets as fast with Decay as he is in Deika, he really is just insta-dusting people, such that not even blood remains. But he wasn’t that fast or that thorough as a child, hence why it’s all so much gorier—and it needs to be, because it’s hard to imagine Hana freaking out like she does if all she sees is a pile of dust instead of, well, dog gobbets. (Also, if his family had gone the dust route, it would have been very hard to convince the audience that Tomura’s hands are his family hands and not fakes provided to AFO by Ujiko.) This obviously put the anime in a difficult spot, but apparently the decision they settled on was—to not decide? Everyone we saw in the active process of decaying decayed into dust as usual, but then once they were done decaying, once that transition from person to ruin was complete, there were all these heaps of gore everywhere. It was a very strange and distracting inconsistency that hurt the scene much more than any of the nearly invisible cuts, and I hope the blu-rays will change it.

• Added Grandpa catching Grandma as she staggered at the sight of things in the yard. Since his body language in the manga (the only non-Decayed shot of him in the sequence) has him leaned more forward, like he’s still halfway through running towards the kids, I thought this was a nice little touch on why he stopped, for reasons other than just the obvious.

---

Episode 111 was about half of a really strong episode. Most of my complaints about the Shimura Family flashback are very minor, and most of the ones that are less minor are still easy to overlook when the rest of the presentation was so strong. Unfortunately, the non-flashback half of the episode had as many problems as ever, and those aren't over yet.

Come back next time for Part Five, Episode 112: Origin: Shigaraki Tomura. Assuming my complaining about the finalized gutting of Spinner's arc doesn't get too out of hand—which it may; if so, I'll tack on one final part to wrap things up—I'll also be running down a quick overview of the Paranormal Liberation Front scenes in the Endeavor Agency arc and some various odds & ends.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Yes, I know the Skeptic Confronts Twice scene goes nowhere, but maybe, instead of deleting it, they could have patched it up by showing Skeptic turning away from the confrontation when the tower went down? You know, actually made an effort to improve on the material?

[2] Bakugou, of course, but also Inko, Kotarou, and, very prominently, even All Might. Deku circa MVA has an entire arc lying in wait for him about how much he’s internalized All Might’s paternalism re: having the strongest quirk.

[3] Indeed, as of the scene in the crater, he still hadn’t lost them at all! He had his prosthetic by the time of the speech, so I guess we’re meant to assume that Ujiko or some MLA doctor declared them past saving and amputated them. I hope I don’t need to tell you how unbelievably lame it is to have a shounen manga character sustain a permanent injury like that off-panel.

[4] It’s the pointy nose.

[5] That, at least, is the best way I’ve found to reconcile all the related-but-distinct values professed by the various members of the MLA brass, from Re-Destro’s focus on liberation and purpose, what exactly Trumpet chooses to cite when he’s talking about Spinner not “amounting” to anything much, Geten’s open extolling of quirk supremacy, and so on.

[6] In the first big double-page spread. Oddly, no bandaging is visible in the other panel that has a good shot of that hand, possibly because Horikoshi was more focused on drawing RD’s empty pant leg. The anime kept the obvious wound during the crater scene, but not the bandages during the speech.

[7] I assume, anyway, that Re-Destro only survives Shigaraki’s first touch because it’s a weaker Decay, coming as it does from only from two fingers rather than five.

[8] The fabled Marie Antoinette Syndrome. Never been scientifically documented as such (hair can whiten because of extreme stress, but not overnight) but it endures in fiction because it’s pleasingly dramatic. Trauma-based eye-color changes, not so much.

#my villain academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha meta #my writing #stillness has salt

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Blood on Our Stage - Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Human Female Reader -Part 1 (Slight/Platonic Female Reader x Hajime Hinata)

So, this is an old fic I updated to fit these characters because I want to continue it :)

NEEDED CONTEXT FOR THIS AU: Hajime and Nagito are step brothers, (Y/N)/Reader is a human, Hajime and Nagito are vampires, and Hajime did indeed get into the Main Course at Hope’s Peak, for acting.

The paycheck… It's all about the paycheck...

You took a deep breath, reassuring yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time that year… or that hour.

Smile, s-smile. Breathe, lean into him. It has to look real, (Y/N). God… it’s a whole new level of crackhead when you stutter to yourself in your thoughts.

Dissociate.

What are we having for dinner? How many more steps ‘til that damn egg hatches? If it’s another fucking Diglett I swear I’ll go apeshit.

You shifted to your right, the most forced of grins creeping onto your cosmetic-plastered face. You let your head fall onto Hajime’s shoulder. Convincing right? Touching is convincing. Random gentle displays of affection are convincing...

By this time, you were nearly blind from the flash of some fifty or so cameras in your face, anyway, so why not just pretend that the photographers and press were blind as well?

Why not, why not?

You pretended in every other aspect of your life.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Hajime’s voice shook you out of your trance, and you turned your head, letting go of his arm, which you had grabbed out of habit. His sparklingly white teeth - sharper than the average man's - gleamed down at you, and you felt that usual pang of fear run down your spine and chill your bones. Even attached to the gums of the sweetest boy on earth, you’d never get used to the sight.

It's all a show, (Y/N), a game. Pretend. "Fangs for the fans, and all that"

How long would that farce last until people started to realize?

What had Hajime said earlier that month? You retreated into yourself, thinking deeply, trying desperately to calm the anxiety that rose with at the sight of his flesh-tearing canines...

_______________________________________________________________

"I can bare my fangs at interviews, photoshoots… you know, when the paparazzi are around. It’s what my dad wants,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Don't worry about it, (Y/N). Honestly, you freak out over the silliest things sometimes.” He ruffled your hair. “It will look like I'm dedicated to the role, or something like that… whatever. People will love it, trust me."

___________________________________________________________

But you never could. How could you? A monster with a secret, stupidly displaying that secret openly to the world? No… trusting meant removing little stones from that carefully built wall, which sub-sequentially meant getting hurt, and not just emotionally. You recited this mantra to yourself almost routinely; something you’d picked up from someone very close to your heart. Isn’t it funny how we steal little bits of personality from those we love most?

You knew Hajime just followed whatever his father commanded, that he’d do anything to feel like he mattered, that people cared. He’d done all this: the acting lessons, depending on daddy’s money, the unless studying and promoting himself, just to get into that stupid school and kickstart his illustrious career.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)??" Hajime tenderly brought his hand up, stroking your shoulder awkwardly. The clench in his jaw, however, wasn't friendly at all. You couldn’t really blame him, though. He was doing it for your sake, after all. You had to get through this, and he knew he had to pull you through; everything depended on it.

How could this flock of idiots not tell the “chemistry” was forced???

"Uh… o-of course! Yeah!" You smiled, a fake chuckle escaping your lips, and the crowd of reporters and internet journalists roared in front of you. Of course they did… wasn't everything the disciplined and people-pleasing boy beside you said fucking hilarious? You sighed, returning your gaze to the mass of people below you as you and your leading man sat raised on a platform behind a pretentiously high table.

Just let Hajime handle all the questions, you thought to yourself indifferently. You always did. They rarely directed them at you specifically, anyway. So much for your dream: to stun the world as an independent starlet, a crimson-hot femme fatale. It was always ‘Hinata Hajime’s doe-eyed leading lady!’, ‘Hajime’s little love interest!’, never ‘(Y/N) (L/N)... featuring Hajime Hinata!’ But... you were famous, and with no little chunk of change to boot… you should’ve been thankful… right?

So why weren’t you…?

Your eyes scanned the faces before you, and you realized that you hadn't… really looked at them until now. Yes, the usual prolific online bloggers and huge theatre junkies were there, and Mr. Hinata of course. He wouldn't miss out on one of his company’s press meetings for the world, especially with his money-making beloved son in the spotlight. He was so anal, how could anything possibly go off without a hitch unless he was there?

You wondered if the girl next to him knew he was a ravenous monster as well, but thought better of it. Of course, she didn't know. You shouldn't have even known. But you did, and it plagued you every day of your life.

Fuck... you just wanted to go back to your room and overthink in peace. It was embarrassingly uncomfortable to do so in public

Mr. Hinata sat sternly upright, with his polished, slick hair, in his polished, slick shoes and extravagantly tailored navy suit, his secretary at his side, brushing his hand unnoticeably between the chairs. His wife would never care, anyway. To their right sat a rosy-cheeked intern, spunky and full of character. Holding a clipboard between perfectly painted nails, the only thing that spoke louder than her bright smile was her neon miniskirt. She must not have known, either. No human simply knew, and still managed to look that innocent and lively. The PR girls loved press conferences, and each new show only yielded fresh publicity. This most recent show, set to premiere the following night, was a tale of romance: A vampire lord and his human lover: a medieval era period piece. Of course, for this reason, Hajime did nothing to hide his all-too-real fangs.

You loved a good historical romance, and loved being in one even more. It had always been your goal as a starting actress to take the lead in at least one period play, be it Victorian, colonial, medieval.. but... it had not turned out quite the way you planned...

A few other members of the Hinata family accompanied their revered head of the household… or was it head of the clan… coven? Whatever, it was expected. The murderous bloodsuckers always clung to their leader’s side, and could always be found lurking around Hinata’s estate, if they weren’t already crammed up his ass looking for approval.

A flash came from the reporter to the left, directly into your vision, and left you dazed.

Fuck… you seethed internally. Calm down. Calm down. The paycheck. That's it. This is almost over, anyway. Why did you always find yourself spacing out at the worst possible times? You acknowledged that it was how your body coped with the overwhelming urge to break down, but damn if it wasn’t inconvenient at the minute. Nothing screamed ‘I have something to hide’ like acting shady in front of a hundred people…

You leaned into Hajime again. Sell the relationship. Sell the love.

You exhaled in exhaustion. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Hajime… you did, just, not like this. Never like this. Lying to millions of fans and the press, pretending Hajime was anything other than a brother-like figure to you just to line his father’s pockets, tore you apart more than keeping his immortality a secret. Denying you both a chance at real love for fear of scandal… you were sure that there was no phrase you’d ever grow to hate more than “The Hinata Theatre Company!” Ironic, wasn’t it, that at one point in time, you begged to be here?

You found that scoping out a crowd lowered the anxiety you had about actually being in front of them. It's funny, many people asked how you could possibly be afraid of crowds or public speaking when you were a damn Broadway-level star. Your answer was always the same: your rush of adrenaline and passion for theatre got you through a show, but anywhere else but on that stage, and a crowd turned your mind to jelly. It was different… walking out for a performance tamed the butterflies that flew around inside your stomach.

Of course, there was always the fact that your boss could tear you apart at a moment’s notice that contributed to the anxiety, but you obviously couldn't share that little bit of information with anyone. It was all so hard to process, that this kind young man beside you could be something so fearsome, that your whole life was a public sham. You’d never forget the day you’d found out… how it changed everything. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of your best friend, you just shouldn’t. But how could you ever truly trust him again?

Your eyes bounced once, twice around the room.

...No

You gasped, breath catching in your throat as your eyes caught on something that caused you to jump slightly in your seat.

"You ok?" Hajime whispered, the crowd going noticeably silent for a moment. Mr. Hinata glared in your direction. A silent warning, reminding you that even one wrong move made his company look bad, and that would not end so well for you. That was the shining aspect of Hajime’s personality, that he was nothing like his father.

"Yeah, y-yeah," you spoke airily, cheeks heating. "I just slipped to the edge of my seat a little, almost fell!" You lied timidly, a small laugh.

They'll eat that shit up. Soft-spoken, innocent, clumsy girls are all the rage! Of course, Hajime picked up on the lie immediately, catching the change in tone, the skipping of your heartbeat. Being an immortal freak had its perks.

The bright-eyed boy beside you patted your arm, the crowd chuckling politely before returning to their bombardment of questions.

Your eyes flew back to the corner of the room, back to the object that had you startled in the first place. You tried to tell yourself you’d imagined it, but there was no mistake,

It was him...

Standing there in the entranceway, so dimly lit, he hid in the alcove. There was no mistaking his favorite jacket, the fabric ripped and weathered from use. There was no mistaking the intricate, almost root-like pale green veins which spiraled up his arms, told a story across his milky collarbone, tumbled down his wrists, and made him all the more intimidating. Intoxicating. There was no mistaking that full head of tousled hair, brightly standing out even in the meager lighting in that disregarded corner of the room, messy whisps branching out dangerously; an air of nonchalance and bored irreverence. Smug bastard…

And there was absolutely no mistaking the way those bright eyes illuminated his white skin in contrast, a frightening and ethereal glow shooting off of him in waves. Hajime’s chestnut-brown eyes never mimicked that terrifying iridescence, but then again, Hajime never took his life-sustaining drink from a human host. Your hands began to subconsciously shake. From fear or the itching desire to… you didn’t know, throw your arms around him, touch his cheek just once... ? You never knew with him. He was a wild thing, a beast untamable. But why the hell was he here?

Carelessly he leaned against the door frame. His tongue shot out predatorily, running along his lower lip in one fluid motion. His knuckles raised, brushing against the green of his coat and coming up to scratch the side of his face.

❘ What are you doing here?! ❘ You sent your thoughts out in waves so loud you might as well have been screaming. You knew immediately that he had taken them in, absorbing your mental cursing and inner toil like sun rays. It was a power and privilege only those of his kind who were purebred enjoyed.

He did not answer, but merely tilted his head, the corner of his lip rising in that maddening grin he always threw at you. An impish smirk hiding mischief and chaotic intentions, you were sure.

You knew it would be mere moments ‘til your flawless "boyfriend" beside you noticed his presence as well, and you feared what might become of this night that was supposed to be of celebration. Almost as if on cue, Hajime’s words halted to a stop. That evil smirk only widened, a small snort shaking the intruder’s chest.

"Nagito..." Hajime murmured through clenched teeth, his hand shooting down to grab your wrist. "He's here."

"I know..." your words shook, just loud enough for any non-human in the room to hear. Now it was time for you to be Hajime’s rock. Nagito's head bobbed, looking down at his old ripped jeans, and you saw Mr. Hinata's eye twitch before you, his vampiric hearing triggered immediately upon hearing your quiet exchange with Hajime.

Mr. Hinata followed your eyes to the back of the room, his fiery glare landing on the face of his eldest and only step-son in the shadows.

Was it too late to run back into the dressing room and never come out?

You could feel the tension in the air, a line of electricity connecting the three vampires like mental twine, ready to break at any moment. It was like watching three animals square off, sizing up their threat on a National Geographic documentary. The other Hinata coven members, all also fierce bloodsuckers in their own right, merely sat forward politely, sensing Nagito's aura but knowing better than to give him the time of day. After all, alerting the press to his presence would certainly not be a wise way to stay on Mr. Hinata’s good side.

No one outside of the family even knew about the existence of the elder brother. He was an embarrassment, a stain on Mr. Hinata’s designer tie. In the packed room, he looked so out of place, with dark, torn clothes in a sea of try-hard collared shirts and dresses. Sure, everyone who was anyone in the media world had turned up for this interview, and would also return for the opening night the next day, but everyone who was anyone never included Nagito. He made sure of that. He just had to stick out, be different, didn’t he? Even among a bunch of immortal freaks, boy… was he a freak.

Oh no, mommy remarried some rich man then got herself killed, better act like a little ungrateful little prick. Woe is me, I have super good luck that is sometimes super bad! No one understands me!!!

He sickened you, the way he did his best to destroy what he and Hajime’s family had built, all in the name of his backwards and twisted idea of “hope.” As if he didn't live like a prince because of the Hinatas’ hard work. Don’t get it twisted, you hated Mr. Hinata and would love to see the Hinata empire burn, but this company, the desire to be recognized and worth something, was all that held dear Hajime up. It was his only dream, and he deserved it. Nagito didn’t have a right to tear Mr. Hinata down if he had to wreck Hajime to do it.

He disgusted you, you’d decided months back, to make it all easier on yourself. Everything he’d done, the trouble he’d caused, the hurt he’d caused so many people. Routinely, you reinforced to yourself that you hated Nagito Komaeda

...You were disgusted by the way you… just... couldn’t hate him. It didn’t feel right. Something felt… wrong in hating him.

Your heart lurched, meeting his eyes again.

Why not? Why not just hate him, (Y/N)? Like everyone else…

Why was it so hard? You were supposed to be with Hajime. And Hajime hated Nagito. Everyone who knew Nagito hated Nagito. But… telling yourself you were anything but infatuated with that dangerous creature… was a lie. You owed everything, good and bad, to that feral, insane man.

Your nerves and the hairs on your arms pricked up like an agitated cat. Why why why? Why would he even do this? He knew what showing up here would start. He was born to start shit, to brew altercation, to cook up conflict. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt? Perhaps he finally came to an event to support his darling step-brother, but the way he bore his fangs when his eyes met Hajime’s said otherwise.

❘ Leave. Just Leave. You're just here to antagonize me and I won't let you be a problem. Not today. This is my day… ❘ Hajime spat mentally, and his thoughts burned through your own and, you're sure, Nagito’s.

❘ Aren’t all the days yours, Your Majesty? ❘ Nagito’s thoughts were more severe, yet more playful, taunting, careless, a venomous snarl behind every synapse pulse.

❘ ...Leave. ❘ Hajime pulsed back in warning.

❘ ....Or what? ❘ Nagito’s own ominous threat reverberated through your cranium. You pressed a hand to your temple, an angry, stinging sensation pulsating through your head. Having a vampire read one’s mind was uncomfortable enough: feeling the slight probing and perhaps needing an aspirin after, but being the third line in a purebred pissing match… it was a call you desperately wanted to hang up on. But.. humans didn’t naturally hear a vampire’s thoughts on accident. No, you were hearing this conversation because you were meant to, someone wanted you to. You had no powers of your own, but Nagito kept you trapped in this nonverbal battle, strung up betwixt two immortal minds. You brought the back of your free hand up to your nose, wiping away a stripe of red vitality that began to flow from both nostrils. The panging inside, the angry shouting in your mind only got louder.

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jackest-jack · 3 years

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I would very much like to hear about your spooky scary Sirens, pretty please 🥺

AJKSJAKISJAJAJF Ok so I almost had a heart attack when I saw you were following me because YOU’RE SO COOL so thank you

I already wrote about my spooky scary sirens over here, and they have pictures and I would be willing to write a short thing with them later but for right now I’m gonna pick a different thing and blab about it.

The most fleshed out and cohesive thing I have is the vampire band nerd slasheresque story with a police chase followup as well as a separate zombie apocalypse thing, so ig I’ll go with that. More under cut and warning for like a lot of gore and death and angst. I’m also only doing the first part of that because this is taking a long ass time

I came up with this in junior high, and I was in band, and I noticed that each instrument section had different personalities sort of, so I made characters around that and put them in a horror plot where they all die horribly, because what else are you gonna do? This is gonna be a plot rundown and it might get real long. (It is no longer a rundown. Its just unedited word vomit.)

anyways a bunch of friends, who I’m just gonna call by their instrument names, go camping in the woods for a couple weeks. They all take one car and set up in the middle of fuckin nowhere.

Clarinets a vampire pretending to be a high schooler for kicks, because she was 15 when she turned 5 years ago and got dragged away to the magic underworld (basically a series of safehouses and towns for the supernatural) and she wants a letterman goddamnit.

She gets adopted into a friendgroup despite her best efforts, and gets dragged along on the camping trip in the small car and close quarters with a buddy system and she hasn’t eaten anything substantial in like two months and its proving to be a problem when she starts thinking of her friends as snacks instead of people.

one night, percussionist gets up to go on a 3 am lake walk. But, the buddy system. So he takes Clarinet, who never seems to sleep anyways, with him.

They’re on the edge of a lake littered with huge old chunks of driftwood, looking out over the water, when Percussionist steps on something sharp. It went straight through his sandal and he pulls it out without much trouble, but “that nail looks kind of rusty and I’m Pretty Sure I’m bleeding a little bit, oh I hope I don’t need a shot-“

she falls on him like a cat on a wounded songbird. She has enough of her mind left to cover his mouth and stop the screams as he slowly loses blood.

He tries to fight back. He does. he jams the nail deep into her throat and twists away, but she catches his wrist and slams him backward, a sharp stick going through his stomach, sticking him bloody at the base of an old driftwood branch still attached to its old tree.

She stops draining just before he dies. And she waits, and waits, and waits. Finally, hours later, the corpse takes a deep gasp and its eyes fly open. It begins the excruciating process of pulling itself off the tree.

his wound is closed less than a minute later.

he comes to and sees her sobbing on the ground, bloody streaks under her eyes from where she tried to wipe away her tears with hands soaked from putting pressure on his stomach in a feeble attempt to save him.

“Vampires, huh?” He says, half joking, half looking for an explanation.

—-—

they’re sitting around a small campfire, and Clarinet tells him that he’s a vampire, he needs blood, he cant go back to camp or he will eat his friends. She leaves to find him something substantial before he loses it.

back at the original camp, its around sunrise. Flute notices a small trail of smoke not far off, realizes that Percussionist is missing, and gets French Horn to help him look for their idiot friend (and maybe put out a small fire.)

They make it about 3/4th of the way to the smoke when flute trips on a tree root and scrapes his knee. About a mile away, Percussionists head perks up.

He distantly realizes that he just left the campfire that he’s supposed to stay at, but he can‘t seem to care. The hunger doesn’t gnaw at him or hollow him out. Its not like looking for a fix either. Its an itch in his whole body, a near unavoidable function of his being. The hunt is as natural as a cough, a spasm of muscles to take away the awful itch.

He moves faster than he ever could before, and just to see if he can, he jumps up and begins running across the branches of trees. Its slower, but sneakier; his prey won’t see him coming.

Finally, he reaches them. He jumps on the smaller one, sending it crashing to the ground. It’s blood is what brought him here. He sinks his hollow teeth into its neck and begins feeding.

There is a scream and a crash as the taller one runs away. Thats ok. He only needs one.

———

French horn, for her part, is freaking the fuck out. The sun had just peaked over the horizon and orange light was streaming through the trees when everything went to shit.

The pale thing had fallen on Flute, and the noise he made… she was almost certain he was dead now.

She kept running. If she could make it back to camp, then maybe she could get help, or maybe leave before the rest of them died too.

She charges through a thicket, sharp thorns scraping and tearing every inch of her as she shoves her way through. She shuts her eyes as she goes, to avoid the thorns poking them out.

When she comes out the other side, she feels her gut sink.

She doesn’t recognize the trees or bushes around her. She doesn’t see a path.

She’s lost.

She wants to break down, to scream and cry the injustice to the heavens, to kick and punch and fight the thing that killed her friend, to sit down and rest and have a moment to breathe, to be home-

She picks a direction and runs.

———

Percussionist stops draining Flute just before he‘s dead, following the instinct that drove him to where he is.

He wants to be horrified. He does, really. But he was so hungry, and the itch is still there, waiting beneath his skin to pounce on him again. But for now, its gone, and he can think clearly. He can move without the instinct tainting his every twitch.

He turns to look at the person he drained and sees-

He sees his friend. And it hits him all at once.

He killed a person, a person he knew, a person he cared for, and he had been powerless to stop it. He didn’t even know- he didn’t realize- he would never have done it if he-

but he knew he would have. Even if he knew. He would’ve killed Flute, and he hates himself for that.

So he sits by the body of his dead friend, maybe in solace, maybe because some instinctive tick tells him to. He doesn’t want to know. He refuses to.

When Flute sat up and gasped, Percussionist could‘ve sworn he had a heart attack (even without a functioning heart.)

To Flutes credit, he made it through Percussionists halting and confused explanation before letting himself ask about the smell.

”what smell?” Percussionist asked, and lifted his nose to the air.

He got his answer. The smell of blood, salty and sweet and with a coppery tinge to it drifted through the air, leaving a hunger and odd comfort sitting in his gut. It reminded him of smelling baking cookies from the kitchen as a kid.

A leaf crunched, and he snapped out of his trance. Flute had stood up and broken into a run, faster than any human could’ve gone. After the person that had been with him.

After his friend.

Percussionist sprinted after him.

——

He had the chance to notice how fast he was really going, now that he could think through the hunger. He practically flew through the forest, leaping over a fallen log half his size that blocked his way. He ducked and dodged branches that threatened to slash his face, and if he were running for something else he may have threw his head back and laughed.

As it was, he was following the occasional red flash of a windbreaker that he could barely keep up with without being hit by a tree.

He could heal now right? Did he really even need to be worried about being hit by trees?

He let one slap his face just to test, and he felt the stinging pain all across his face as a deep cut opened across his nose and eyes. He faltered as his vision went red with blood. A second later, it was gone, and he could see again. ….And he‘d lost flute. Great.

He sniffed the air, remembering how he’d been able to smell the blood, and tried to look for his friend.

He could smell the whole forest. Sap and pine and rotting leaves, rotten flesh and mushrooms and a skunk miles and miles off, the sweet sting of honey and dew and campfire smoke, and over it all, the most lovely smell-

Well, looks like he couldn’t find him that way. He thought for a moment, and groaned. He could just follow French Horn and get to her first!

He began running again.

———

Clarinet had just made it back to the campsite, a live deer kicking around over her shoulder. She would’ve killed it, but she couldn’t quite figure out how without losing any of its blood, and since she drained and seriously injured Percussionist he would need a lot of blood-

and the campfire had a suspicious lack of vampires around it. Great. She could only hope that no one had cut themselves-

She stopped as the scent of blood hit her nose. She cursed and took off running, dropping the deer as she did.

——

French Horn thought she was going to die when she heard a bush rustle and snap behind her. She had stopped for a rest, thinking she was safe (if very lost). She was braced for her death when Percussionist crashed through the bushes.

”Oh, good, you’re still alive. We need to go like right now.”

Before she could protest, he grabbed her wrist and began pulling her away. With his very cold, very pale hand.

”Wait. Was it you?” She said, planting her feet.

”Yes.” his voice was solemn, and his eyes downcast. “But unless you want Flute to get you, we need to go”

She tore her wrist out of his grasp.

“Flutes dead. Flute’s dead and you killed him!”

And Flute hit her from the side. He sank his teeth deep into her neck, but only for a moment. Then he pulled back, looking horrified and ran away.

French Horn stands up dazedly. “That was…”

”Yeah.”

she lifts a hand to her bleeding neck where the bite is still gushing blood.

A rustle of trees comes from the side, and Clarinet skids to a stop in front of them. She takes in the situation and drops to her knees, tearing loose a piece of her shirt and holding it to the holes in French Horn’s neck.

”Wheres the third?”

French horn points to the copse of trees he disappeared into.

”I think we might actually be jinxed.” A pause, then “That was supposed to be a joke. Go after him. He’s heading towards the camp, and chances are he won’t be able to stop himself a second time.”

Percussionist nods, and then stops. “How do I get there?”

”just run straight! GO!”

and he does.

———

Clarinet gently explains to French Horn that vampires are real, and that she is one. When asked why she isn’t bloodthirsty, Clarinet answers that she has a lot of blood left in her still, and that she’s not all the way changed, and that the change will, in her words, “Stink. Its kind of the worst thing you’ll have to go through, and it’ll take way longer since you have blood, and you may not notice at first.“

French Horn pursed her lips. “Theres no way to stop it?”

Clarinet shook her head.

”Okay. Okay, shouln’t we help Percussionist?”

Clarinet swore. “You won’t be much help in the state you’re in, but I can drop you off by the camp. Pack our things and be ready to go.”

Clarinet scooped French Horn up and took off into the woods.

———

Percussionist got there just as Tuba was ripping Flute off of his neck.

Despite Flute being the smallest out of all of them, and Tuba being the strongest, he was struggling to keep the scrabbling, biting Flute away.

So, Percussionist did the only logical thing and full body tackled Flute, trying to hold him down. It worked, sort of. Long enough for Tuba to start running. Long enough for Sax and Trombone to see what the ruckus was.

Flute burst out of Percussionists grip, grabbed Trombone and ran.

Sax sprinted after them, and percussionist was left in the dust, standing dumbstruck as they all dashed off. He snapped out of it when Trumpet pressed an axe to his shoulder and told him to not move.

———

Flute knows this: he is very hungry. He also knows that blood tastes very good.

His last two meals escaped. He thinks he let the first go, but he can’t seem to remember why. The second was ripped away from him by someone like him, which was rather rude.

But this one won’t get away. He is far to hungry to let that happen.

He feeds as he runs, draining the squirming thing dry, pinning its flailing limbs against his chest. It stops wailing eventually.

He slows as he becomes able to think clearly again. He holds the body in his arms and revels in the fact he is no longer hungry. Then, he looks at the thing he drained.

And it’s his friend. He feels his stomach drop, and a hollow pit grow in his chest. His friend is dead, and it’s his fault. He tells himself there’s nothing to do but run, so he does.

Really, though, he just doesn’t want to see what she’ll become.

———

“What did you do to them.” Said Trumpet, each word slow and dangerous. She lifted the axe off his shoulder, and he felt relief before he realized she was lining up to take off his head.

He may be able to heal, but he did not want to see how far that ability stretched. Not like this, at least.

He swallowed his fear and asked, ”What makes you think I did something?“

She barked out a harsh laugh. “You go missing in the middle of the night with Clarinet, who still isn’t back. Flute and French Horn go to look for you and have mysteriously disappeared. Tuba came running from this direction, bleeding like a stuck pig. And here I find you, in the center of it all.”

Ah. He was fucked. Time to implement the worst plan ever, considering how fast Trumpet was.

”that’s- that sure is some pretty overwhelming evidence that I did something. I swear I didn’t, though but I know you won’t believe me so I’m just gonna RUN!”

He ducked under the axe she swung at his head, and took off running into the trees. He glanced behind him to see her struggling to keep up, and grinned. He was actually getting away with his head, and beating Trumpet in a footrace for once-

He turned back around just in time to see the tree that crumpled his skull.

———

He wished he could say he didn’t feel every excruciating twitch of his skull righting itself as he laid there. As it was, it was painful enough he was functionally passed out.

Which is why he was surprised to see trumpet dragging him by his feet deep into the woods.

Not half as surprised as trumpet, who dropped his feet and swore when he sat up and gasped.

”What the hell? You were dead! that killed you!” She yelled.

Percussionist was still reeling from how much growing his skull back sucked, and latched on to the first thing he noticed.

”Did you steal my shoes?”

”what are you?” She asked in a tone that was decidedly horrified.

He fiddled with a piece of grass somewhere to his left. “A vampire, as of yesterday. Really though, why do you have my shoes?”

“Not important. What do you mean as of yesterday?”

”Last night, really. Me and Clarinet-“

”Clarinet and I.” She said.

”Whatever. We went on a walk and turns out she’s always been a vampire, and then she did the vampire thing, and now I’m a vampire, and things have just been spiraling from there-”

”That explains a lot, actually. Who else is a vampire?”

Percussionist, feeling slightly more alive, realized they weren’t by the camp anymore.

”Where are we? Why do you have my shoes, and why are you so calm about this?”

”oh.” She said. “I may have made an action plan for something like this. You know, in case of murderers, or if supernatural stuff was real.”

”thats cool. Why steal my shoes?“

”I was framing you for murder.”

an awkward silence settled over them.

”We should get back to camp. Stop more people from getting vampired and all.”

”Yeah. Lets do that.“

———

Sax skidded to a stop in front of Trombones body. She was limp, and pale, and by all accounts dead. He whipped out his phone to call anyone, anyone at all, and pitched it into a tree when it read no service.

He sat, and he cried by his best friend, who always made the shittiest puns, who was the worst at sports, who thought anything with soulmates was stupid but still read all the stuff he suggested her. Who was dead.

He was still crying when she sat up and latched onto his neck, draining him dry.

———

French Horn and Clarinet ran across Tuba, who was holding gauze to his neck where he had been bit. French Horn was starting to feel slightly feverish, but otherwise okay.

”Guys! Are you okay? The weirdest thing just happened.” He said.

”We need to leave.” Said Clarinet. “Now.”

”No argument here. Have you guys seen Flute? He was with you last time I saw him.“

French Horn and Clarinet shared a look.

“I’ll go find him. You two pack. we leave before dusk.”

They watched as she disappeared into the leaves.

”Whats going on?” Asked tuba, a hint of worry in his voice.

French Horn took a deep breath in before saying “Vampires are real.”

Tuba burst out laughing.

“Oh. You’re serious.” He said as he hefted a tent into the back of the van.

”you don’t believe me.”

“How could I? I haven’t seen any proof that they exist.”

She threw a bag of trash in the van with more force than nessecary.

“What attacked you then?”

At this he paused. “I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a vampire.”

———

Percussionist and Trumpet made it to where Trombone was crying over Sax, the late afternoon sun reflecting off of their now pale skin.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. He’ll be alright.”

Trombone looked up at him and snarled, all teeth and rage, and Percussionist jumped back.

”He’ll end up like me, won’t he.”

Percussionist nodded.

”I don’t know what world you’re living in, but this isn’t fucking alright!”

Trumpet walked over and knelt in front of Trombone. She held out her hand, and Trombone scrambled away.

”I don’t believe you would hurt me. Not right now. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

”so what?” She scoffed. “I still did it. Should I just go on existing as whatever I am now? Just kill people so I can live?”

”Actually,“ Percussionist said, “we can live off of different types of blood.”

Trumpet looked back and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Shut up you twatwaffle, can’t you see this is a delicate moment?”

”just figured it would be some good information to have.“ he said.

“Are you seriously telling me my angst fest was for nothing?” She asked.

Percussionist leaned against a tree. “Oh, don‘t worry.” He said. “Theres still plenty of angst about the immortality.”

“Sax did always say he wanted to be sixteen forever.”

Trumpet rolled her eyes. “Lets go home.”

Trombone reached out to take Trumpets hand, and Sax shot up and clamped his jaws around her throat. Trombone grabbed Trumpets wrist and pulled her away as Percussionist peeled Sax away.

”Let him.“ choked out Trumpet. “I‘ll be one of you either way.”

”Absolutely not!” Said Percussionist. “Trombone, go find literally anything else with blood.” Sax kicked and snarled in his grip. “Hurry! I’m not sure how much longer I can hold him.”

———

“Flute!” Yelled Clarinet. She had been looking for him for an hour now, and still couldn’t find him.

She was walking along an old trail that went out of use years ago when she almost tripped over him. He was curled up in the shade of a tree, hiding away in a hollow.

“What do you want.”

”I want to take you home.” She said.

he laughed. “Something like me doesn’t deserve a home. I killed people, and I knew there was another way, but I did it anyway. Just leave me here to rot.”

She remembered when she’d been like this. She had forgotten to eat, had slipped up. Its not a hard thing to do. When you’re a vampire, you brain tricks you into feeling fine by your old standards until you‘re so hungry you can’t stop it.

She believed it was all her fault, though. The only way someone had gotten through to her was something they had called twisting the knife. She had always called it shitty.

She sighed. “I wanted to say sorry.”

He poked his head out a little, peering up at her. “You didn’t do anything.”

”But I did.” She said. “I drained percussionist dry last night, and then I left him to find you. I watched while you attacked your friends, and now, I’m giving you a chance to fix the harm we caused. What will you do with it?”

”You made me like this?” He asked.

”Yes.”

he lunged at her face, fingers clawing for her eyes. She turned around and ran for the campsite, making sure he was behind her, and praying that he would forgive her for the stunt she just pulled.

———

The campsite was packed, and Percussionist and Trombone had made a game of who could catch the best songbird for Sax. Sax was less murderously inclined, though it was hard to tell if it was because the blood he had consumed or trumpets growing nonhumanness.

After the third or fourth time of watching Sax suck down a bird or squirrel like a juice box, Tuba was forced to admit that maybe vampires were a little real.

(He noticed his neck wound had already scabbed over and was halfway gone. He was afraid to ask if he was becoming one.)

The sun was slipping behind the tops of the trees when Clarinet charged out of the forest, leapt over the van, And yelled “Flutes trying to kill me!”

Flute burst into the clearing and lunged at Clarinet. Percussionist stepped in the way.

”What happened?“

”She did this in purpose! She said she dropped you in the woods to kill us!”

Percussionists blinked. “No she didn’t. She told me to stay where I was while she got something for me to eat.”

he stopped yelling. Now, he just looked confused. “But she turned you.”

”Yeah? It was an accident. She obviously regretted it.”

Percussionist backed off, and Flute looked at clarinet.

”why did you say all that then?”

“You were’t gonna come with me if I didn’t. Besides, you were spiraling and this was the easiest way to stop that.”

”Sounds like the shittiest way to stop it, too.” Scoffed Tuba.

She sighed. “Yeah. It was.”

”Hey,” asked sax. “Are any of us still human? I know me, Percussionist, and Trombone aren’t-“

”Percussionist, Trombone, and I.” Said Trumpet.

”-And I saw you two jump over my van, but whats up with the rest of you?”

”Basically,” said Clarinet, “anyone who was bit is or will become a vampire, depending on how much blood they had left in them after the bite. Was there anyone who wasn’t bit?”

everyone was silent as they all glanced at each other, looking for anyone who could say yes. It quickly became awkward, and was broken by Clarinet muttering “Fuck.” quietly under her breath.

”Who all, um, died today?”

Flute, Sax, and Trombone slowly raised their hands. Clarinet squinted at Percussionist, which prompted him to say “What? I died last night.”

French Horn yelled “past twenty four hours, dingus.”

He rolled his eyes and raised his hand.

”Alright. You three,” -she made a sweeping gesture towards the three with their hands down- “Are going to have the worst couple weeks of your life. Take a few days off of everything. Don’t go to the hospital. Stay isolated. Call me when the pain’s mostly over.”

Tuba’s lips pursed. “What, exactly, is going to happen to us?”

”The way it was explained to me was that your body slowly cannibalizes itself. It sucks.”

”hm.” He said. He looked very troubled.

They got in the van and drove through the night.

For now, they rest. A short break, before they have to figure out the rest of their lives.

#Not a super satisfying ending I know #Not the best writing I could’ve done either #I’m already planning out a sequel for how things go that will get into the nitty gritty of their character #And hopefully give them real names #THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A PLOT SUMMARY WHAT WHENT WRONG #(It started out as a kiss how did it end up like this)#Its still basically the bulletpoints version of this story with some banter mixed in #I did actually have a concrete well thought out(ish) plan #Then the characters (mostly trumpet and tuba) said “no thanks we’re too cool for your shit/to much of a himbo” respectively #And honestly? They’re right #Please keep in mind I made this when I was like 12-13 and havent developed it much since then but I love em all the same #I could be persuaded to attempt to draw them #Or at least picrew them #Anyways that took way too long thank you for sitting through this with me #Writing #my writing #oc #ocs #my ocs #writeblr #Bandpires

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wyvern-tales · 4 years

Text

I don’t wanna fall asleep, because I have so much to say

Warnings: Fear (lots of it), descriptions of violence, humans being jerks, swearing, main character being a jerk sometimez

Word count: 24,256

Summary: Zelu didn’t like humans. They were basically fairytale monsters, but real, and somehow 10x worse. Everyone knew to avoid them. That was just common sense. Avoid humans, avoid human inventions, avoid everything related to the surface world. Simple as that.

So then how the hell did he end up in this crab trap?

Prompt: A human finds a tiny merfolk stuck/passed out/hurt on the beach, they decide to take it home

Author’s Note: Heyyyy so this is the first time I've actually written G/t before, and the first time I've completed a story, so I really hope you enjoy it! Spent a good chunk of my time making this!

Tagging @secret-shifters for the event and @just-some-gt-trash for the gift! Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the ocean, there are rules.

Every Merfolk in every water of the world knows them. Five simple rules, made for everyone, regardless of culture or ability. Merfolk are expected to follow these rules like their land cousins, the Borrowers, and their code. The Rules are actually really similar to the Borrower Code, with a few obvious exceptions. Merfolk weren't Borrowers, not even that close. Borrowers looked like humans, but small. Merfolk sort of looked like humans, but more resembled the fish they swam with in more ways than one, size included.

The Rules went like this:

-One: Never speak, approach, or interact with humans. They are hunters and slavers, they take and never give back.

-Two: Avoid all human traps, inventions, and contraptions. Nothing good will ever come of this, no matter how intriguing they seem.

-Three: Should you find a captured being, Merfolk or not, don't help them. The risk is too great and you will most likely end up captured along with them.

-Four: Where the sea meets the land, never surface, no matter the time or place. Humans live on every spot of dry land, no coast is safe.

-And Five: Should you be spotted, do not attempt to fight. Always hide or swim as deep as you can go.

Every child is taught these rules once they reach seven hundred sun-cycles (around two years, if talking in the newer dialect), the first two especially. They are responsible for the safety and survival of the Merfolk species, after all. From the great Whales and Sharks to the elusive Anglers of the deep sea, the rules have protected the ocean from human meddling for generations. Even the terrifying sirens and shifters, beings from the more magical side of Merkind obey at least two or three.

Zelu's mother, like most other mothers in the sea, made sure the rules were drilled into her children. Threats of evil humans with their nets and fish-hooks hung over their heads, keeping the young pups from ever leaving their cave at night. Tales of the giants beasts and their crimes were told to wide eyes and shivering tails. Humans were always brought up in lectures whenever a child was caught doing wrong, sort of like a mythical monster of legend, only this monster was real.

"Swim too far out and a human will catch you!"

"Put that hook down before it's owner comes looking for it!"

"I hear humans look for naughty pups to sell. Shark pups are worth lots of land money on the surface!"

"Say that one more time and I'll throw you ashore to the humans!"

"Do you want to become human food?"

"Never go out at night, or else the land-walkers will come roaring with their boats to find you."

"Behave or you'll end up like your Uncle Tarren. Don't want to end up dried up and put on display, do you?"

Zelu's mother meant well, she just wasn't the best at expressing it.

The nursery knew her as the strictest shark in the Atlantic. Her real name was Lain, eldest of an old family of twelve siblings, but that didn't stop the other children from coming up with all sorts of nicknames.

The old Mershark knew her children would have to leave the seaweed beds and go off on their own someday, even if dogfish grew slower than the other neighboring sharks. She knew she held the smallest family in the beds, with only three small pups compared to the usual five or six. The fact that two of them kept getting into trouble and starting fights with the other families, while the third refused to talk to anyone who wasn't directly related, didn't help at all.

Zelu's mother didn't really need a sitter or bedkeeper (young dogfish pups usually did fine alone) but Lain had to hire one anyway. Her children didn't meet the number requirement, but apparently in terms of behavior, she needed an extra set of hands and eyes to 'keep them under control'. So she found a kind young Mershark from the Lemon clan, who went by the name of Kepsy.

Kepsy watched over the pups while Lain was out hunting or running errands. Zelu and his siblings liked her well enough, she treated them like friends rather than stupid babies (like most bedkeepers) and wasn't too strict when it came to Lain's personal rules. But both she and their mother shared one annoying quirk.

Kepsy could recite the Rules by heart, and clearly wanted the pups to do so as well. Every morning Lain wasn't around, the bedkeeper had them list the first three once before breakfast and once before bed. Zelu and his little sister Mala hated that part of Kepsy's routine, but the oldest, Cain, didn't seem to mind.

Cain wasn't much of a speaker. He did things without words or explanation, usually communicating with body language and simple eye movements. He only talked to his family and nobody else, the only exception being Kepsy, and even then she usually just got a few one-word sentences. The other pups in the seaweed beds thought Cain was mute. Zelu's family knew better. He and Mala could tell just what he wanted without him ever opening his mouth. Quiet, cryptic, and observant, that was Cain.

Once, Zelu asked why he was so dedicated to the Rules. Cain just flattened his fins and pointed out the rip in Kepsy's fin. He made sure Zelu was looking at it, before turning his claw to the long scar that curved from the corner of the sitter's mouth. He did this every time, always the same answer.

Cain never had to elaborate. Everyone knew what had caused those scars.

So Zelu knew exactly why the Rules meant so much to everyone. But if he's being completely honest, did it really have to go that far? His siblings didn't have to worry about humans until Lain passed on, when they'd be forced out to make their place in the ocean. Mala could probably take on every fish in the sea and come out on top. Their neighbor, Jessin, always went on about how Cain didn't need to fight anyone to win during combat training. Said he had a 'gift', whatever that meant (Zelu didn't understand it, but he knew better than to press, since Lain got annoyed when it was brought up).

Zelu, well, he could handle himself just fine, thank you very much. Kepsy said he was always reckless, but everyone knew he was the fastest swimmer and had the ability to use his natural defenses offensively. That was something most Dogfish Mersharks couldn't master. Dogfish spines were meant to be used as a shield rather than a sword, but Zelu's shield held iron barbs and serrated edges. He rivaled Mala in terms of agility and speed, if he did say so himself, and could out-maneuver the fastest sharks in the beds, fitting into places most wouldn't be able to.

Point is, Zelu could take care of himself. He knew that. The Rules kept Merfolk alive, yes, but did they have to be followed so strictly? There was no room for adventure anywhere. Who cares if he bent them a few times?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Famous last words.

A small part of Zelu's brain knew he shouldn't have wandered too far from the seaweed nursery, away from the safety of his cave and siblings, just four sun-cycles after his birthnight.

It knew he should have listened to Mala and Cain's calls for his return, rather than ignore them in favor of possible adventure, leaving while Miss Kepsy's back was turned.

It knew he shouldn't have gone and explored the brackish beaches and muddy sandbars of the coast, not particularly enjoying the sickly sweet feel of fresh water mixed with salt running over his gills.

It knew he shouldn't have swam closer to the crab traps that littered the barren sea floor, intrigued by the shiny tags and ropes that attached them to the surface world.

It knew he shouldn't have tried to help the young Mercrab trapped inside. It knew he should have ignored her barely-masked pleas for rescue.

That part of his mind knew he shouldn't have trusted her. It knew this, yet the rest of him still went to help, the majority ruling out logic. Zelu'd be lying if he didn't kind of expect her to shove him in to take her place, but the urge to assist a fellow Merfolk overpowered his caution. And after all that, here he was, that small part of his brain shaking its head in clear disappointment.

The Mercrab grinned evilly at him from her perch on the trap ceiling. Zelu snarled at her, tail lashing in both anger and terror.

"This is your fault, you know." She said, clacking her armored fingers mockingly. "The rules forbid helping trapped Merfolk. But I expect nothing less from a brainless shark pup."

She spat out the word 'shark' like it was something gross, scrunching up her face at the 'k'. Zelu said nothing. He simply bared his teeth, specially made for crushing and tearing at the shells of crabs and lobster. The Mercrab flinched away. She knew that when he gets older, they'll sharpen, ready to take on jellies, sport fish, and even bigger crustaceans, including Mercrabs.

If he gets older. That was a huge if and both parties knew it.

"I just wanted to help you," He growled, thrashing his tail against the bars. "Is that really bad? Or do you bottom feeders not understand emotions?"

"My my, so touchy. I wouldn't be that rude to the humans if I were you," The crab pointed up to the rope. "They wait exactly one cycle before pulling up these cages. I'd say you have…."

She raised a hand to test the currents, loudly tapping the metal wiring with a clawed foot. Zelu winced back with each reverberation, hissing as his fins flattened against his head.

"....thirty minutes left. They always come back when the water picks up. Gosh, I really must be going then."

Thirty minutes? THIRTY MINUTES? When the water picks up? That....that's almost no time at all!

"W-wait a second! Let me out!" The Mershark suddenly cried, original panic pushing aside his anger. He gripped the twisted wire of his prison so hard, his soft skin threatened to break under pressure. "Y-you don't have to leave me here! I helped you!"

"And let you get revenge? Not a chance. I made my choice. You were dumb enough to break the rules, so just face the consequences." The Mercrab grinned wider at him, climbing off the trap and turning to leave. "Did you forget crabs and dogfish are enemies? I'd say this was stupid, even for you."

"B-but….I saved you! I-I rescued you! You should be thanking me!" He pleaded. "I-I didn't do anything to you! I'm just a pup!"

The Mercrab just shrugged. "Sorry. That's just how things work. Don't want another shark to grow old, do I? The less predators, the better."

With an enraged yell, Zelu bashed his body against the cage and lunged, shoving his arms through the bars to slash at her with venomous claws.

"YOU DIRTY-" He cut himself off with a snarl, gnawing on the bars that held him back. "I'LL- I'LL RIP YOUR LEGS OFF AND BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH YOUR OWN LIMBS!! LET ME OUT, DAMMIT!"

The crab trap rocked violently, kicking up clouds of sand and muck in the Mercrab's face. Some of the other normal crabs were knocked into him, but he didn't care. He gnashed his teeth and flared his fins, as threatening as a ten-year-old shark pup could possibly be. His attacks missed by a hair, but his show of aggression seemed to work, making her back away.

"...Fine. Be mad. Won't help anything. Enjoy your doomed life, little dogfish." She shot him one last (albeit slightly irritated) smirk, before scuttling off to whatever whale carcass she crawled from.

"GET BACK HERE!" He screamed after her. "GET BACK HERE YOU COWARD!"

After about two whole minutes of shouting and fighting, Zelu's arms fell limp against the bars as he watched the Mercrab's shell vanish over the ocean dunes, rage settling like the seabed around him. His fins drooped, his spines flattened back into a neutral position, and his grey tail limply dragged against the uneven floor. Panting, the Mershark retracted his limbs and slowly sunk to the bottom of the trap, fingers still gripping the wired bars. Zelu let his forehead hit the wall with a depressing thunk.

He felt crushed. He felt angry. He felt stupid. He felt, well, he felt humiliated. Mercrabs didn't pride themselves on their manipulation skills, no, they were more famous for being shellheads. Mercrabs weren't smart, they were tough and hard, no room for critical thinking anywhere. So for a shark, one of the strongest and most self-respecting Merfolk in the seas, to be tricked by one? The whole situation felt way more than humiliating, above all else.

Mala and Cain were right. He never should have explored beyond the seaweed beds. He never should have gone chasing after adventure at such a young age, it had only brought him sorrow. Just like Lain said.

"..bloody traitor…." Zelu muttered to himself, turning his head slightly to shoot a look at his unwitting roommates. "....not you guys though. You seem fine."

The trapped crabs simply gazed at him and clacked their claws, not a coherent thought crossing their minds.

Zelu crossed his arms and swiveled to lean against the wall, the back of his head resting against the wire mesh. He looked up at the surface with a bubbly sigh. "Stupid shell-back…who does she think she is, ranting about me breaking the rules..."

He didn't really know who he was talking to, but whatever. The crabs seemed to be listening a little. One of them, a large blue-shell with the biggest claws of the bunch, reminded Zelu of Cain, just a little. It was the quietest of the bunch. Zelu gave it an upward nod. The crab merely blinked at him, not moving from its stance. The Mershark huffed and turned away. Something about having a crab staring at him felt creepy.

The crab trap felt far too small. The Mershark shuddered. There were only three normal crabs in with him, and they didn't do anything other than stare off into space, display their claws at each other, or stuff their faces with bait. They kept their distance though, which was a plus. Zelu considered eating one of the crabs, but decided he wasn't hungry. Probably for the best. Who knows how old that mystery meat called 'bait' was.

'Maybe Kepsy will come looking for me. It's way past noon, so Lain should be home by now. She'd break a few rules just to help, right?' Zelu thought, watching the sun rays beam through the water. '….Who am I kidding. Rule breaking is the last thing she'll do.'

Zelu's mind brought up the faces of his siblings. He considered calling out and making tons of noise, off the slight chance one of them heard his pleas. He wasn't that far away from the seaweed beds. Maybe they'd hear him, if he put in enough effort!

The Mershark instantly swam up and gripped some loose-ish wire. The crabs stumbled back at the sudden movement. He filled his gills with as much water as possible, ready to scream and rattle until his throat burned and his gills grew weary-

When a long, dark shadow passed overhead, engulfing the crab trap in murky darkness. Zelu shut his mouth with a click, the air in his gills escaping in a stream of tiny bubbles. His hands felt glued to the thin wire, cutting into his palms from the sheer force he gripped it with. All will to speak died in his throat.

A Crocodile?

Here?

In Gator country?

How the heck did it get so far from shore? They were notoriously reclusive and never ventured far from home, so seeing one out here in the crab beds made almost no sense at all.

The croc drifted along, heavy tail swishing from side to side as it lazily circled overhead. It poked its head underwater, long toothy snout sweeping aside murk as it scanned the ocean floor. Sharp reptilian eyes went over Zelu's cage twice, sending claws of ice down his spine.

Crocodiles didn't usually go after crab traps, right..?

Eventually, it's gaze stopped on another separate trap, and the massive reptile dived down in an explosion of bubbles, tail pumping to build up speed. It seized the trap in those mighty jaws faster than Zelu could blink, crushing through the thin wire bars without trouble and stirring up a cloud of silt, before swimming back to the surface with its prize. The trap had been reduced to a flattened mess of wires and shells in almost no time at all.

A cracked crab shell drifted past Zelu, spiraling down into the sand.

His eyes followed it.

That had to be a clear warning from the universe. Zelu decided that maybe calling out was a bad idea.

So instead, he hunkered down in one spot to wait until something happened.

Occasionally, another crab would wander in to join him. Each time Zelu tried to scare it off, hissing (quietly) and flashing his claws and teeth. And each time, it ignored him in favor of free food. Zelu cursed himself, folding himself back up in the corner as yet another stupid crustacean tumbled in. The empty space shrank with each new addition and he hated it. Sure, he was bigger than them, but not by much.

Thirty minutes, huh?

Probably more like ten now. There was nothing Zelu could really do at this point other than try to fall asleep, or stay awake until either the crocodile returned for another snack, or the humans came to retrieve their trap. It had been designed to let plenty of crabs in, but none out, creatures like Zelu included. Just by sight alone, he knew escape was pretty much impossible.

Yes, all the Mershark could do was wait. So he adjusted his tail, laid his head down on the stiff metal floor, and prayed to the Great Megalo for a somewhat peaceful sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zelu awoke to the sound of frantic rattling and squeaking. He ignored it at first, keeping his eyes firmly pressed shut, but then the ground seemed to jerk upward. He bounced up from his coiled position, spines flared and eyes wild. Did the croc find his prison? Was another Merfolk trying to break in? Did the humans return? Was someone trying to help him out?

The cage jumped again, but didn't float back down this time. Zelu looked up at the ceiling, where the once lax rope now stood taut and firm, and then down at the rapidly shrinking seabed. Well, at least he got one out of four guesses.

The crab trap jerkily burst from the surface and Zelu instinctively tried to dive back down. The bars stopped him though, and he was forced to watch the distance between him and the cool, comforting sea grow with each tug of the rope. The crabs scurried about like panicked minnows, occasionally running over Zelu's tail with their sharp feet.

"C'mon Dale, get those traps up already! We left 'em out long enough!" A booming voice shouted from above, making Zelu's heart jump into his throat.

"I am pulling them up! Gimmie a minute, this one's heavier than the last one!" A second, even louder voice shouted back. "I think we got a good haul today, eh?"

The trap lurched upward, swinging dizzily from side to side as the outline of a massive, burly figure in a brown coat heaved it from the water. Zelu caught sight of a strange white contraption, sleek and intimidating. Like the skeleton of a whale, only more smooth and pointy. Kepsy talked about humans having things called 'boats' to travel over water. This, Zelu decided, had to be one.

At first, he felt pretty excited. He'd never seen a human boat before. But then the humans driving it yelled to each other again, and he was suddenly reminded why this boat was there in the first place.

The crab trap bumped against the hull, prompting a squeak of terror from Zelu, who very quickly clapped his hands over his mouth. Pulled over the side rather jarringly, the Mershark watched as the human seized the trap's roof with a massive gloved hand, pulled open a hidden door Zelu never knew existed, and promptly emptied it into a grimy bucket without a second glance.

Zelu tumbled out headfirst, landing among a squirming heap of even more crabs, who didn't really look as terrified as he did. How they could be less than mildly irritated about this was beyond him. The bucket felt bigger than the maw of a Megamouth, hard and spiky with a floor that moved and shifted, and massive white walls slicked with seawater.

"How many d'you reckon we got today? Fifteen?" The burly human said to its companion.

Trembling, the Mershark looked up as the second gigantic shadow of the day fell over his newfound prison. A face big enough to blot out the sun stared at him, looming over it's catch with mild interest. The light behind it blurred most of the human's features, but he caught a scruffy-looking beard and squared glasses, which the giant raised to its forehead.

"Well I'll be…" The human murmured, sharp, chocolate eyes widening in apparent shock. "Ain't you the strangest little thing..."

Zelu gave a strangled hiss in response, flashing his ear and elbow spines threateningly. The beastly thing didn't even flinch. In fact, it actually chuckled.

"Feisty too! Oi Redmond, getcher lazy arse over here!" The human called, beckoning for it's companion with the massive sweep of an arm. "We got ourselves a weird lil stowaway!"

Zelu flinched at the sudden movement, biting back gasps as his gills struggled to reap oxygen from the air. It wasn't immediately life-threatening, but he needed to get back to water. His gills could only absorb so much water from the humidity. He had about thirty minutes tops before he started to actually suffocate.

The human leaned in toward the bucket flashing flat white teeth, each one bigger than the Mershark's hand. It could very easily bite him in half, like he was nothing more than a twig instead of a living creature that should be feared. Zelu cowered away, curling his tail inward, trying to keep his body as low, small and spiky as he could get. The crabs below didn't help, constantly shifting and clacking against one another, occasionally pushing him closer to the giant above. He bit back a pained yelp as one managed to clamp down on his tail fin.

"What's it this time? You pick up some shiny junk again?" A second voice practically shrieked from far off to his right. Zelu grimaced, ears flattening against his head at the noise. "I'm telling you, I won't make any more stops at the pawn shop."

Another sunfish-sized head came into view, this time with a clean face and soggy red hair pulled back in a ponytail. A second pair of hollow eyes, this time seaweed green, stared right through him. One giant was more than enough, but two? The Mershark swallowed the sobs that threatened to creep up his throat. He could practically feel his chances of escape swirl down the drain with each passing minute. They could do whatever they wanted and receive little resistance. Not even Mala could fight out of this one.

"...good lord." The new human breathed, leaning in far too close for Zelu's comfort. He dared a swipe at its nose, but the human pulled back before he could make contact. They both snickered in amusement.

"Ain't it cool?" The bearded one said happily. "Crabs be damned, I call first dibs!"

"D-Dale hold on, we don't have any idea what this thing is! You can't just call dibs on it!" Ponytail replied, looking up at the other. "It could be venomous or something! Look at those spikes!"

"Venomous-Shmenomous, I think it's cool as hell!" Beard crossed it's arms with a pout, which quickly turned to vicious glee. "Where d'you think it came from, eh? New discovery?"

Zelu pressed his webbed hands to ears in a feeble attempt to block out all the chatter. His captors' booming voices just blended together into one loud roar. His hears rang painfully, each massive sound clanging off the bucket walls like an energized ping-pong ball. As much as it hurt, he had to focus. Find an escape.

His tail-fin twitched from side to side anxiously as the Mershark scanned the walls of the bucket, searching for anything that would aid his escape. A crack, a small hole, hell even a piece of stray seaweed would do. The crabs around him piled on top of each other, trying to escape with no sense of teamwork. One would almost make it out, only for another to seize it by the leg and drag them both back down, rinse and repeat. Stupid dull creatures. Perhaps he could use them to climb out? While the human's backs were turned?

"I'm sure it ain't venomous, Red. Watch this!"

Something above him moved, and Zelu looked up to see a massive hand reaching down into the grimy bucket. He shrieked in terror, twisting out of the way just in time for the hand to close around a crab instead, which promptly nipped at fingers almost as long as his tail. The owner swore loudly, waving its hand to shake off the little crustacean. It's companion laughed.

"No offense, but watching you get bit by crabs isn't that impressive."

"Ha, ha." The human said sarcastically, before grabbing at the Mershark again. This time with both hands.

Despite his best efforts to twist, slash, and dodge, the fingers eventually closed roughly around his trembling form, one set gloved, the other bare. The instant he was grabbed, Zelu was reminded just how small he was compared to these monsters. He was just barely bigger than the crabs, and very easily crushable. There was little the Mershark could do to prevent those gigantic hands from seizing him like some prized salmon and hoisting him up into the air.

The Mershark cried out pitifully, tears stabbing at his eyes as he watched the bucket fall away. For a moment, he found himself dangled upside down, two of the human's fingers tightly pinching his tail. Shot with a sudden rush of adrenaline, Zelu snarled and thrashed, struggling like a rabid animal, hoping his claws would land on something. The human laughed, before carefully bringing up its other hand to stop his attacks.

After a moment of uncomfortable shifting and lots of struggling, it got him stuck in a crushing fist, arms pinned to his sides, rendering the Mershark's prime defenses useless. Zelu snapped his head around, forced to look up at his captors with burning eyes. He could barely breathe out of water and the extra pressure from those god-awful hands did nothing to help.

"Got some fight in ya, huh? Ha!" The human boomed, peering at Zelu with an eye almost bigger than his head. "If ya were bigger, I 'spect I'd be flat out on the deck, aye? Lil' rough-skin?"

"Dale, don't tease it."

The Mershark growled at him and snapped his teeth, but it was more out of sheer terror than anger. The human smirked at it's companion, who leaned in to get a better look. It grabbed at the back of Zelu's head with two fingers, forcing the young pup to look it right in those awful, downright predatory eyes. Just the slightest movement and his head would be ripped from his shoulders. A tear threatened to slip out. Zelu just barely managed to keep it in.

"I don't think I've ever seen something like this in all my years on the water. Could it be a mermaid?"

The bearded human shrugged, jostling it's prisoner a little. "Mermaids are girls, Red. This one looks like a dude. And I don' think mermaids are this tiny."

"What makes you think it's not a girl?"

"Well it's got that short hair, an' it tried to bite me earlier…"

"Girls do that stuff too, Dale."

Zelu shook horribly while the giants talked among themselves, fins angled down in clear discomfort. His heart threatened to burst from his ribcage and flop out onto the deck. His gills screamed in starvation, begging for more water to fill them. His tail twitched weakly, blood struggling to circulate under immense pressure. Everything in his body wanted the same thing, and that was to get free or die trying. Zelu didn't really like that last part.

"D'you think he's cold? Thing's shakin like a leaf."

"It's probably not used to open air. Ignore it."

Yeah right, it was the air that made his whole body vibrate like a pre-eruption volcano. Zelu mentally berated himself for being so stupid and breaking the rules, blinking rapidly. He would not cry, no sir, absolutely not.

But it wasn't like there was no reason to. Only seven years old, just turned, and here he sat. Prisoner to these beasts, struggling for air with no foreseeable way out. Just perfect.

"Though, I wouldn't call it half human. Humanoid, maybe, but not fully half. It's got more of a snout than a nose, see? And the eyes have green stuff instead of white."

The rough hands around him tightened as the humans altered their grip.

"It looks pretty young…" Ponytail commented, eyes roaming his exposed belly. Zelu swallowed dryly, trying to ignore the spotty, light-headed feeling that started to overcome him. "I think whatever this thing is, it'll fetch us a hefty price. Much more than some silly old blue crabs."

The bearded one nodded eagerly, messing around with Zelu's tail. "Them marine biology people would go nuts."

It released his tail, bringing the hand to poke at his head again. "Hey, d'you think it's got proper sharks' teeth or humanish ones? Or a mixture of both?"

Zelu no longer thought clearly at this point. Whether it was from fear, lack of breathable oxygen, or just plain instincts, he didn't know. He only saw the massive (ungloved) finger coming directly at his face, inching forward slowly and tauntingly. Like a barracuda preparing to strike. His mind played out scenes of bloody carnage, one after the other.

Knives slicing down through his stomach, pins holding his guts open, a shock collar around his neck, tags stabbed through his fins, hands passing him around like an expensive fruit, a lonely tank on display in front of hundreds of other humans, a blade coming down to separate his tail from his body, a massive boot smashing him into a bloody stain, his family finding his crushed, discarded skeleton in the crab fields-

It was all too much.

Shaking worse than a sea lily caught in a whirlpool, Zelu lunged forward as far as he could go.

"MOTHERF-" The bearded human roared, dropping its prize as tiny, hooked teeth sunk into the flesh of its pointer finger.

It jumped and flailed like a demented chicken, shouting countless human swears and curses as it tried to shake off the frightened Mershark. Zelu just held on best he could, now-freed venomous claws dug deep into leathery skin, wind howling in his ears. He could hear shrieks of laughter from the ponytail human, who didn't do much to help it's comrade.

He was just a pup though. And his small teeth, combined with the sheer force of being whipped around like a ragdoll at high speed, by a giant, made sure he couldn't hold on forever.

So with one powerful flick, his teeth tore through the skin, disgusting metallic blood oozed into his mouth, his claws ripped free, and Zelu went flying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing Zelu felt when he woke was pain. Just pure, throbbing, dull pain. Nothing different whatsoever. His head felt like it was full of watery mud, sloshing about every time he shifted. He'd like to stay lying down right here, thanks. If he didn't move it wouldn't hurt so much.

But that's not how the world works, so resting out here in the open wasn't an option.

Zelu did take a few more minutes to relax though. He couldn't remember much from what happened before, but the clean saltwater that flowed freely over his gills definitely helped. Much more soothing than the brackish mix he'd been stuck in before. The Mershark inhaled slowly, relishing in the familiar freshness. The mud in his head dried a little with each deep breath, clearing out the condensation.

Eventually, Zelu felt comfortable enough to peel open his eyes, only to shut them immediately. Everything was so bright. Questions came to mind pretty quickly, since the beds were never that bright. Did he drift off into the middle of the atlantic? Was he in a coral reef or something? Did Kepsy find him? Was he in Lemon shark territory?

Holding up a webbed hand, Zelu cracked open his eyes again, squinting in the harsh sunlight. It wasn't all the way around him, just beaming from a large half-circle directly in front of his face, but it was still overwhelming to look at. The water here was so clear. It even held a kind of blue tinge to it, very different from the seaweed beds' usual muted greens. This definitely looked like a reef, only less crowded. He raised his head and blinked to get used to the glare. After a second, his vision cleared a little, and he moved his hands away to stare at his surroundings.

A small hotdog-shaped fish with brown speckles and bulging eyes stared back at him. Zelu blinked. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't that. The fish opened and closed its mouth. Then with the flick of an elongated tail, the small fish swam off, stopping a small distance away to nibble at some of the algae that coated the floor.

A blenny, Zelu thought to himself. Algae eaters. Not very filling.

Blennies were pretty common in reefs. Pushing himself up on his arms, Zelu winced when his sore elbows rolled over something hard, bending his spines in the wrong direction. The ground felt surprisingly rocky. He looked down to see the floor covered in oddly-colored pebbles. He himself was lying on his stomach in a bed of them. Moving them aside, the pebbles revealed a normal layer of white sand. A thin layer of weird rainbow pebbles over stupidly clean sand? Odd. He expected just sand and mud.

Zelu moved to float up and swim off, maybe find another Merfolk and ask some questions, only for his head to collide with something hard. Rubbing his forehead, he looked up to see a roof of weird blue stone. Looking around further, Zelu noticed that he was in a small shallow cave. It was just big enough for a family of three Merfolk, completely round like an overturned bowl. Shell-patterned imprints decorated the inside, and his ears just now picked up an odd low hum coming from somewhere above. It vibrated and surrounded him, penetrating his very being with a tone he could barely hear. A small tendril of dread curled around his heart. His shelter looked, sounded, and felt so…artificial.

"Ke….Miss Kepsy? Mother?" He called out, drifting outside the cave mouth. He winced at how weak and shaky his voice sounded. For some strange reason, talking hurt. "Cain? Mala? A-are you guys there?"

While his eyes struggled to adjust to the light change, Zelu absentmindedly ran a finger over his palm, tracing the lines until it hit something weird. A rough, raw imprint, spreading horizontally through both palms, cutting small rips into the webbing stretched between his fingers. Confused, Zelu held up his hands in front of his face.

When the heck did I hurt my hands?

He looked at them for a solid minute, before everything came flooding back.

The memories. All of them. The memories of Mala's scolding and Cain's disapproving look. The memories of the crab trap and the traitor Mercrab, her sneering grin burning into his eyes. The memories of the thin wire bars, cutting into his palms while he watched a crocodile circle overhead. The memories of the giant humans and the hands around him, crushing and squeezing his life away. Memories of the booming voices and his gills screaming for water, something hard colliding with his head. Memories of the blood in his mouth and sand in his throat, scratching and ripping open his flesh. Very, very faint memories of steamy breath on his face and two freaking eyes just staring at him-

Zelu had to move. He couldn't stay here, no matter how much his aching muscles protested. With an aggressive flick of a tail, he shot out of the tiny cave, out into open water. The light burned his eyes, hidden wounds stung, and his head hurt worse than before, but he didn't care. Colorful plants and weird statues flew past his line of sight, melding into a multicolored blur. Zelu just kept swimming. He needed to find his mother, he needed to warn his siblings, he had to get back home before something bad happens to them-

...only for an invisible barrier to slam right into his face with an awful crunch, stopping the frightened Mershark dead in his tracks.

"SHIT-"

Zelu's hands came up to clutch his face, fresh agony blossoming from his nose. It didn't feel broken and there wasn't any blood, but damn the seven seas it hurt. He drifted away from the barrier, almost tearful green eyes frantically flicking around. What did he just run into? Did something graze him and swim off?

Zelu reached out a hand, feeling the water for whatever stopped his flight. His claws met an invisible wall, and once the shock cleared from his vision, the Mershark noticed a slight smudge where his face made contact. What was this thing? Glass? He spun around, still clutching his nose. The light no longer blinded him as harshly, giving the Mershark a good view of his surroundings.

Where the heck am I?

To his left, a white and yellow Butterfly fish gave him an irritated look from its perch under a rocky, red arch. The Blenny from before continued it's algae purge, pushing past Zelu without a care in the world. Like he, a clear predator, didn't exist. Above his weird blue cave, two Clownfish peeked out at the new visitor from a porous rock formation. Red and green plants sat suspended in the water, but did not move with the current.

Actually, Zelu couldn't even feel a current. The water felt eerily still.

A weird silly-looking great-white shark statue decorated the pebble bed, accompanied by what looked like an anchor and a gold-toothed skull. The humming source, which sat near the surface, turned out to be a strange waterfall-making machine that churned up the water for no clear reason.

This wasn't a reef. Not a branch of coral in sight.

Zelu could feel his spines raise in alarm. Now that he could see better, the Mershark noticed that there was not just one glass barrier, but four. Four massive see-through walls, trapping him in a rectangular box with four other fish. Above, a big black lid shut them all in, weird blue-tinged light tubes casting a soft glow over everything underneath.

Through the glass, Zelu could see a room. Only this room held weird furniture and was hundreds of times bigger than his own den. One glass-filled window on each wall, a pair of simple desks (one in front and the other set on his left side), an ugly red-white flower patterned carpet spread out over the floor, and a small closed doorway set to his far right. For a room, it looked pretty small and empty, lots of open space in the middle, punctuated only by a scattering of strange, four-legged table-things with a tall plank of wood stuck up on only one side. The thing Zelu was currently stuck in sat atop another desk, pushed up against the wall so he could only look at things directly in front of him.

He…he was trapped.

No Cain, no Mala, no Miss Kepsy, no Mother. Not even a crab from before. He was trapped, all on his own.

Zelu's trembling hands fell from his face. His fins twitched erratically as his mouth opened and closed like a dying fish, inhaling almost way too much water for his gills to process. The Mershark ran his hands over his face, pulling at his hair in panic. The pain in his skin came crawling back in the thousands, the adrenaline rush from before having petered out. The ghosts of many sand particles scratched and tore through his gills and throat. A sharp copper tang itched at his tongue.

Everything felt so sore and achy. His head offered a startlingly good impression of a sinkhole caving in. Stinging wounds lined his torso and tail like Tiger shark stripes, invisible, but still there. Overall, he just felt gross. He felt violated, he felt exposed, for Megalo's sake he felt half dead.

And to top it all off, Zelu was trapped. The humans, they had dragged him from the sea, tortured him, grabbed at his body, thrown him to the land, and stuck him in this cage. In this horrible tank, put on display for all to see. He would be kept as a pet or studied. Hell, he might even be cooked and eaten. Nothing more than extra calories, fried and seasoned with some random assortment of vegetables. He truly had no idea what humans really did and didn't do, but Zelu knew what humans did do to most of the things they stole from the sea. He'd heard all the stories, told to him by wide-eyed Merfolk riddled with scars.

Unfortunately, stuck in the midst of his panicking overactive imagination, Zelu failed to hear the rhythmic booming of giant footsteps coming his way. He didn't see the doorway open and close with a muted 'click'. He didn't even notice the approaching human, far too absorbed in his own thoughts, until it leaned down to peer through the smudged glass, burning hollow eyes staring at the Mershark like a cut of fresh meat. He turned his head, ready to bolt somewhere and hide, only to lock eyes with a freaking giant of all things.

Struck with a crippling sense of Déjà Vu, Zelu's body froze up against his will. His breath hitched and his skin went completely numb. He swore the glass walls started shaking by themselves.

For several long minutes, Zelu and the human studied each other, Zelu out of shot-up terror, the human in barely concealed wonder. This human looked very odd compared to the other two who'd stolen and maimed him. It had pure-white hair that stuck to its head like a pulled-apart cotton ball, and bone-pale skin smeared with some weird white ointment. Round glasses sat upon a bandaged nose, magnifying them to a point where it reminded Zelu of the eyes of a swordfish. Its irises looked like great blue fish scales, glinting coldly in the flickering glow of the tank, the black void in the center shrinking and growing with changes in light. The worst part was its hands. Two huge hands made for grabbing and crushing, resting almost mockingly on the table in front of the tank. The human very suddenly bared its flat, spine-snapping teeth, lips twitching upward in a terrifying grin.

"H-Hey there, little buddy."

The words sounded slightly muffled through the water, but the human's voice was loud enough for anyone to understand. Zelu flinched away at the noise, mouth moving wordlessly. The human tilted its head, some sick impersonation of sympathy spreading over it's massive face.

"O-oh, right. Sorry." It whispered, holding up a hand to its mouth in what Zelu knew was mock embarrassment. "I must be really loud to you, huh?"

No response from the Mershark. Not that he could say anything. Zelu felt completely paralyzed. That pesky adrenaline returned, granting him the ability to hear every tiny noise around him; The humming from the tank, the small swirling swishes of water being shifted, the giant monster's heavy, clearly excited heartbeat thrumming through the table, the sound of massive lungs sucking in and expelling gallons of air….it all felt a billion times louder. Too bad all those heightened senses would go to waste.

"S-so um, I think introductions are in order, yeah?" The human said quietly. "M-my name's Phelix. With a P-H instead of an F. I sort of...rescued you? From the b-beach?"

'Phelix' offered a small, embarrassed smile. Or was it a sneer? Zelu couldn't tell.

"I-I mean, I found you half-stuck in the sand looking like you just went through a hurricane, so um...I'm sorry if you don't like touching, but I uh...kind of had to d-dig you up and carry you back here..."

Once again, the Mershark found he couldn't respond. His mouth just gaped uselessly, shivering body making small ripples in the water above him. The human touched him? It picked him up? And probably did all sorts of unspeakable things? Without Zelu knowing?

Spotting the devastated look on its captive's face, 'Phelix' frowned.

"L-Look, I apologized, right? A-And I fixed you up too!" It pointed a massive finger at Zelu's chest. The Mershark's eyes flicked down, hands coming up to feel what he thought was going to be a collar or vest, something put on him to restrain his movements, but instead he touched a thin layer of sea-soaked softness. His claws ran over long strips of cloth, wrapped around him from head to tail.

'Are these…bandages?' He thought, tugging at one of the looser strips. 'What the hell…'

The white cloth wrapped tightly around his chest, around his arms, and around parts of his tail, some spots holding little blotches of crimson. The whole ordeal was confusing, to say the least. But Zelu didn't let his guard down just yet. The bandages could be part of a larger scheme, one step of many.

"W-We should be okay now, right? You have a name, little buddy?"

Zelu blinked at it, eyes going back to the original size of wide and terrified. His spines instinctively flared up as if challenging the giant to make a move.

"Okay, you d-don't want to tell me, that's fine... What about a nickname? C-Can I call you something other than fish-boy?" The giant paused. "...Can...can you even understand me?"

Of course he could understand, Zelu wasn't stupid. Human languages and Merfolk languages were mostly one and the same, outside of the deep waters. Deepwater Merfolk talked in light flashes, hand signs, and click/growl/warble combos, if he remembered anything from Kepsy's lessons. He just didn't feel like letting the human know any of that.

"...okay, probably a no on that….I'll keep calling you little b-buddy for now. What about S-Spike though? For a nickname? B-Because of all those spikes." The human gave a short laugh, loud vibrations shaking the tank violently. Well not really, but it certainly felt like it. "Nah, that's a horrible n-nickname…what about....Urchin?"

Zelu let out a pained wheeze, ears drooping. He considered giving the human his name just so it wouldn't call him something dreadful. Anything's better than a horrible pet name. He ended up shoving that train of thought off the rails before it left the station.

What if names held some sort of power on the surface land, and giving it to one would give the human complete control? Not like Zelu had control over anything at the moment, but he didn't feel like taking that chance. So he made the decision to remain frozen in the water. Maybe humans could only see things that moved.

"Augh….p-please don't give me that look. You don't have to be afraid, little b-buddy! I just want t-to help you."

Help him? How? Zelu didn't need help, he was perfectly fine, thank you very much. He knew this human was obviously lying in order to make him stick around for whatever it had planned. He wasn't going to fall for that trick.

"...a-and before you start shouting about how you d-d-don't need help, lemme tell you this. I found you almost fifteen feet away from the water. You were covered in bruises and sand, and you were choking on your own b-blood." The human leaned back, crossing its arms with a fake-worried frown.

"S-so as much as I hate to say this, you aren't le-leaving until I'm sure you're a h-hundred percent okay."

Something inside Zelu snapped.

With a pathetic squeal, the Mershark shot across the tank and dove right back into his tiny cave, leaving nothing but bubbles in his wake. He ignored the burning pain that spread over his torso and tail like a rash. That could be dealt with later.

Heaving with barely-hidden sobs, the Mershark hunkered down in the back of the blue-rock cave, the salt from his tears mixing with the water around him. The human had practically spelled out his death. He was stuck here under the ruse that he was injured, which to be fair, was kind of slightly true, but who gave a shit?

His eyes couldn't really focus anymore and his body hurt so much. The bandages weighed hundreds of pounds against his skin, stinging when he tried to pull them off, wisps of blood swirling out when his open wounds lost their wrappings. His head hurt, his tail hurt, his eyes hurt, his arms hurt, his gills hurt, heck everything hurt and he hated it.

So much for not crying…

The human merely stood up and moved around to stare at him again, head tilted in confusion and disappointment, this time from the square end of the glass.

"...dammit….." He heard the human mutter, pinching the bridge of its nose under its glasses. ".... amazing j-job, Phelix….you m-made things s-so much better…..jesus christ...."

Oh Megalo, he'd made it mad. It could reach in at any moment and pluck him from the water like a dead goldfish. And he (probably) wouldn't be able to do a thing. Nowhere to run and very few places to hide. He pushed the pebbles underneath him aside, making a small circle of sand for him to lie in.

Zelu curled his body in a tight U-shape, chest to the floor, hands planted firmly in the sand, elbows splayed out to set his venomous spines in a clear display of angry defiance. His fins pressed themselves flat against his head, the smaller spines above them poking up like antennae. Zelu bared his teeth and snarled as loud as he could, prompting his captor to glance up.

If the human wanted it's pet to cooperate, it'd have to drag him out itself. And Zelu wasn't going without a fight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Except the anticipated 'fight' never came.

After the initial first contact, which Zelu now knew took place in the middle of the night, nothing happened. No threats, no extra humans with blades or nets, no hands trying to grab at him. Zelu actually found himself regretting his stubbornness, for Meg's sake.

After two days without danger, the cave had started to feel cramped and dull. Zelu fidgeted constantly, moving, stacking and rearranging the pebbles around his 'kill circle'. He doodled in the sand. The humming of the tank became oddly soothing over time, as weird as that sounded. His fish neighbors never bothered him, though the clownfish sometimes came around for a visit, only to find themselves driven away by loud growling. Through it all, Zelu almost never left his spot.

As for the human…

The human didn't act at all like he expected. It made no move whatsoever to grab him or drag him out of the tiny cave. It didn't even stick a hand in the water. It just….watched him. And existed near him, sometimes staring at a strange silver rectangle, sometimes just sitting around or writing on a weird white sheet. This went on for several sun cycles, end to end.

Occasionally 'Phelix' would disappear, leaving the Mershark all on his own. Almost like clockwork it'd leave with a simple 'goodbye' to him, and then come back hours later to announce it's return, before vanishing into a separate room. Zelu took that time to wander around the tank and look for a plausible escape route. He never found anything of use.

Sometimes the human never left. Sometimes it just walked around the house, talking absentmindedly about whatever it was doing at the moment. The Mershark never left his hiding spot during this time. He was far too worried about what would happen if he did that. Although when the human wasn't walking around or writing or leaving to do whatever, it did the strangest things.

Instead of interrogating or torturing him like he expected, 'Phelix' would try to make conversation, even if it was met with complete silence every time. It would talk about what happened during its day. It would talk about random human things like 'horror movies' and 'anime', whatever those were. Sometimes the conversation went directly at Zelu himself, questions about who he was, where he came from, how was he doing, those kinds of things. Other times the topic of discussion went to something completely random.

"I found a c-cool rock today! It looked like a rainbow, so I thought you'd find it p-pretty!"

"Do you eat seaweed or just meat? My p-parents always said seaweed was like, a 'superfood', or something along those lines."

"Are there more of you in the river? You d-don't have to answer, I'm just curious!"

"I've always w-wondered….how do magnets work?"

"Those spines look s-super sharp for a shark. Are you a dogfish? I read somewhere that there's a kind of d-dogfish with spines."

"My sister Sara gave me a call yesterday. She's having t-trouble with finals again, i-if you know what those are. Might c-come around sometime."

"You should eat what I g-give you. Going that long without food can't b-be good for someone of your size-"

"I really like plants. They aren't l-loud and can't judge you, y'know? Super chill when you need them to be. You k-kinda remind me of a plant sometimes, minus the no-judging part."

Zelu never answered, though he did react to some things by narrowing his eyes or blowing bubbles at the right times. He made sure it seemed entirely random so the human never knew he could understand what it said. Once, it offered to change his bandages, but Zelu shut that down with an angry hiss. Surprisingly, the human didn't press any further than that, even though it was clear the greying cloth was starting to fall away.

After their one-sided chat, the human would drop in some chunk of meat or fish alongside a farewell. Zelu never touched them. He wasn't some pet, he didn't want to be treated and fed like one, ignoring how his outraged stomach protested. Even if they weren't poisoned or drugged, he didn't trust anything the human gave him. He made the decision to just stay put. He could survive on stored fat and stored fat alone, even if he didn't eat for many, many sun cycles.

The untouched food started to pile up and rot as the nights passed. The neighboring fish sometimes pecked at it, but their efforts barely made a dent.

The whole time, his human captor kept up the 'nervous' charade, always stuttering or apologizing about something. It never raised its voice, nor did it stomp around like giants were supposed to. In fact, whenever it entered the room, it slowed down and lowered it's tone drastically.

Zelu despised those actions. All that tip-toeing and fake-casualty made him want to grow fifteen sizes and punch the damn thing right in the face. It treated him like some fragile seashell instead of a tough-as-nails shark. He wouldn't break if the giant breathed wrong, so why couldn't it stop acting like he would? The Mershark actually found himself constantly hoping for the other shoe to drop, but it never came. The darn thing had been falling for about six sun-cycles now, and he hated it. Any longer and Zelu'd end up forcing it down.

Today was different.

After returning from many hours of vanishment, 'Phelix' sat down in front of the tank with a less than pleased expression on its face. It stared at the glass for a few minutes, eyes hard, not uttering a single weird question or odd attempt at conversation.

The Mershark tensed up, spines flared, eyes wide and daring. His mind rang with more-than-frantic alarm bells.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

He quietly stifled a roar from his stomach, keeping his head low. Did he do something to upset it? Oh Meg it was probably the conversations, he should have tried to respond to those...

The human offered no more than an exasperated sigh. Zelu flinched, expecting an attack, but it simply took off its glasses to rub at its eyes. He just now noticed that it was wearing rubber gloves.

"L-Look, I didn't want t-to bring this up, but…" 'Phelix' leaned forward, clasping its hands in front of its face. Its gaze flicked over to stare directly into the blue cave, burning glacier eyes cutting through the water. Zelu shrank away at the sudden attention. "You haven't been eating. You d-didn't eat anything I g-gave you, and I-It's….it's been almost a week since I f-found you!"

"You haven't even l-left that cave! Little buddy, I can't j-just...let you s-starve yourself like that..!" It brought a gloved hand up to the tank, showing the Mershark a rough cube of raw tuna pinched between it's fingers. "Listen, I've worked with s-sea creatures before.….what I'm a-asking is....p-please don't get mad at me for this."

'Phelix' rolled up it's sleeves with a queasy look on its face. Zelu didn't like at all where this was going.

With one swift motion, the human flipped up the aquarium lid and lowered a gloved hand into the water, creeping slowly toward the Mershark's shelter. Zelu squeaked in terror, pushing himself as far away as possible. His back hit the fake-rock wall and he pressed himself into it, willing the solid surface to just open up and absorb him.

The shoe had finally hit the ground and the impact split open the earth beneath it. He'd done something wrong. He didn't eat what he was given. He didn't speak when spoken to. His human captor had finally decided to get rid of its defective pet. He'd be eaten, sold, or simply crushed into a bloody pulp.

There is nothing you can do.

Firm fingers wrapped around him like the tentacles of a giant squid, pulling Zelu to its beak, ready to snap him in two. The Mershark was too weak to properly fight back, but he still struggled hopelessly against the human's hold. He raked his claws over the hand, biting and beating it as hard as he could.

It didn't even make a dent.

There was no skin to slice, no flesh to bite and claw. Just solid rubber armor.

You are going to die.

"I-I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-'' The giant murmured as Zelu's fighting went from frantic to downright pitiful. "It's okay, j-just calm down. I'm not going to h-hurt you..."

It pulled the Mershark from the blue-shelled cave. The other fish in the tank hid behind whatever was closest. Zelu felt his vision go spotty. Everything was too bright and loud, it made his head hurt bad. He'd give anything to go back to his dark cave where he was left alone.

But like usual, Zelu didn't have much of a choice. The hand-prison stopped just under the surface of the water, the human's second hand coming in to presumably twist his head from his shoulders. The Mershark cried out and jerked his shoulders violently in a weak attempt to escape. He snapped his teeth at the approaching digits. He'd bite a thousand fingers to get free, no matter what consequences follow.

"Oh geez, li-little buddy it's okay! I-I'm seriously not g-gonna hurt you! Really!" The human turned it's free hand palm-up, showing the chunk of tuna. "I-I just want to make sure you eat something, that's all! P-please calm down! You're perfectly safe!"

Zelu snapped his head around, shooting 'Phelix' a disbelieving glare. He immediately regretted it when his head throbbed even more painfully at the sudden motion. Pinching the tuna in two fingers, the human held it in front of the Mershark's face.

"C-c'mon, I need you to eat. I d-don't even know how you're even alive at this point." 'Phelix' replied, pushing the fish closer to his face for emphasis. "I swear I-It's not poisoned or anything. I read that d-dogfish like tuna, so this shouldn't be a preference thing."

Zelu made sure his mouth stayed shut, lips firmly pressed together in a quivering line. He shook his head in a violent 'no', eyes squeezed shut, trying to ignore the pain and lightheadedness that came with. He could feel soggy fish bump against his face. The Mershark avoided it like a fussy toddler refusing dinner. He couldn't eat from a human's hand no matter how starved he was. His pride wouldn't be able to survive such a blow.

"C-c'mon, please work with me…." The human muttered in a pleading voice. "I-I really, really don't w-want to force y-you more than I am n-now! P-please, just-"

The tuna bumped against his face again, with a little more force. Zelu snarled and snapped at the hand behind it. "-work with me?"

The hand surrounding the Mershark started to shake. The tuna stopped assaulting his face, but it's scent still lingered in the water. Zelu snorted, fully prepared to try and fight his way out, but his own body said otherwise. His stomach cursed him for refusing such easy food, making sure the next hungry growl came with a full-body ache as punishment. Zelu pressed his heated face into the giant's rubber thumb, biting back horrible groans of agony as he continued to shake his head. He didn't even know who or what he was refusing anymore. His fins and shoulders twitched and shuddered, betraying the clear burning pain that festered in his starving gut.

You know what.

Zelu raised his head slightly.

Screw the rules.

Screw the rules. He needed food. He needed that tuna. Humans and pride be damned, he needed something.

The human wasn't crushing him, and it kept saying it wasn't going to hurt him….so perhaps…for once, it was safe..? That reasoning went against everything Zelu had been taught, but it was clear that if he didn't accept the giant's offer, it'd probably start using real force...

Zelu cracked open an eye, turning his cheek to the rubber floor. The free hand was withdrawing from the aquarium, taking the slightly soggy meat with it.

"WAIT!" The Mershark cried suddenly, head snapping to the side. His rubber prison flinched at the outburst, squeezing Zelu just a little too tight for a split second. "ST-STOP! I-I'LL EAT IT! J-JUST-"

Zelu's voice dissolved into a harsh sob, hands clenching into fists as he turned to face the human that called itself Phelix, giving it a one-eyed glare that admittedly looked more like a leaky stare.

The human looked….well, to be blunt, it looked awful. Its face was twisted in a pained grimace, head leaning away from the aquarium like holding a five-inch Merfolk pup hostage was the worst possible thing in the world. Heck, 'Phelix' looked on the verge of crying, fat tears hanging on by a thread behind those round glasses. It was incredibly surreal, to see such a giant apex predator so distressed.

Zelu swallowed. As horrible as it looked, he'd cut himself off and the human was clearly expecting an answer, lest he make it angry. Filling his gills with fresher water, he gave 'Phelix' a pointed glare, trying incredibly hard to keep eye contact without screaming. "...p-please let me go. Please."

The human did nothing for a moment, then nodded without a word. The gloved fingers opened and pulled back, releasing the Mershark into open water. Zelu frantically patted himself down to make sure nothing was broken, trying to ignore the sick feeling that washed over when his claws grazed over his well-defined ribs. Even under the wrappings he was clearly malnourished. Zelu found nothing new and exhaled some bubbles in a sigh of relief, quietly cursing his own stubbornness.

The exposed ribs and burning pain that came with his hunger wasn't the worst part. The worst part, well, it was the fact that the human had listened to Zelu. It made absolutely no sense. Predators don't listen to their prey, he knew from experience. But for some reason this one did. It stared at him with those huge, awful, sad blue eyes, listened to his embarrassing pleas for release, and actually let him go. Not a shred of malice or ill intent anywhere.

Another hand appeared in the corner of his vision. For a split second, pure panic seized the reins of his mind. The Mershark whirled out of the way, fins flared, spines up, claws ready to slice open human flesh, as futile as that attempt might be. Leave it to a giant villainous beast to deal such a low blow, striking from behind, he never should have paused-

Only the hand didn't grab at him. It didn't even get close. Instead, it stopped a good distance away from him, palm up, presenting that little chunk of tuna like an offering.

"...N-now can you eat?" He heard Phelix ask in a low tone, huge voice cracking right down the middle. It was astonishing how terrified it sounded. ".....pl-please..?"

Zelu contemplated turning right around, tucking himself away in his cave, and burying his shattered pride under the multicolored pebbles. Every sane instinct inside him shrieked at him to run or hide. The only part that didn't say 'get the heck out of there' was his need for actual food.

So Zelu, cursing himself all the way, so tense his bones felt like snapping under the pressure, slowly dragged himself toward the open hand.

He stopped in front of it, hands clutched at his chest, claws fiddling with the loose bandages. The Mershark shot a look at 'Phelix'. The human still looked pretty distraught, but a more hopeful gleam had appeared in its eyes. It stared at him in awe, mixed wonder and apprehensiveness and regret dancing about in its features. Zelu started shivering again. He didn't like the way those eyes locked on to him. Like it saw something rare and worthy of keeping.

"Can you….look away?" He tried shakily. "I-I don't…like being watched…."

This was pushing it. He was in no place to make demands. Zelu fully expected the human to refuse and drop this stupid 'i'm so scared or you' act. That's how things should be. Humans were the top predators of the surface, able to take down even the strongest of Merfolk with their cunning brutality and evil ingenuity. He's seen the scars and he's heard the stories, why can't this stupid human stop stalling and do whatever its planning on doing?

"Hm? Oh, oh sure. S-Sorry." The human replied with a nod, turning its head to the side. Its arm remained in the tank, bent at an awkward angle. "T-take as long as you want."

Zelu nodded back, though it was more for himself than anything. What was wrong with this monster? Humans didn't have emotions, everyone knew that. Did he happen to get captured by a mutant? Why the hell wasn't it maiming him right now?

The Mershark willed his nerves to calm down and stop shaking (a futile effort). He turned to stare at the human's hand. More than anything it looked like an open bear trap, baited and set. He'd seen a few of them rusting away on the ocean floor, among tons of other human garbage. The fingers curled slightly inward, every line in that palm defined and etched into thin rubber, the points of squared fingernails poking through at the fingertips. Every so often, a digit would twitch, itching to bend inward and close into a full fist. The tuna rested in the crook of its middle three fingers. A clear trap from any sane Merfolk's perspective.

Zelu outstretched a shaky arm, reaching for the food as carefully as possible. He shouldn't be doing this. He was swimming in poisoned waters. He shouldn't trust a human. He can't. As he's said before, It was against everything he was taught, completely against the way he was raised. His mother would kill him for being in this situation in the first place.

But through it all, his stomach won the battle. He only saw the tuna, in all its savory glory. With all the courage he could muster, Zelu shut his eyes and lunged, arms outstretched. His claws groped blindly for the food, brushing against smooth, thick rubber for a split second, before sinking into his slightly soggy target. Zelu yanked it from its perch in the center and bolted, clutching his prize to his chest in a mad dash for shelter.

Go go go go go get out of there get OUT OF THERE-

He hit the cave wall head-on, but he didn't care. Headaches were the norm at this point. Zelu didn't even turn to check if he was being followed. The second the tank lights dimmed and the roof passed over him, the Mershark tore into the tuna with reckless abandon.

And it tasted so damn good.

Even if it was just soggy, unseasoned fish meat, to Zelu it tasted like the food of the gods. He bit off massive chunk after massive chunk, not even trying to chew as he forced it all down. Flecks of uneaten fish floated around him like snowflakes. His gut offered no more than a pleased gurgle. It probably looked disgusting and was completely undignified, but who cares about that? Who cares about anything? This was the most important thing right now and it's getting all of his attention.

Zelu ended up finishing in record time. He didn't know just how big that tuna chunk was until he found himself stuffed to the gills, a sizable portion still left in his claws. If Cain was here, he'd be shaking his head at the pup's clear disregard for manners.

'Sharks should be dignified. We aren't complete animals.' Zelu thought he would say, translated from a simple eyebrow-raise-eye-roll-small-frown combo. 'How many times do I have to tell you this?'

Well Cain can take his 'manners' and shove it up his nose. He should try being captured by giant land-walking predators and starved for practically a whole week. (Although Zelu would never admit the starving part was partially his fault. Who could blame him? Kepsy said humans took and used drugs daily, that all could have been poisoned)

The Mershark looked down at the remaining tuna in his hands. Something nasty sank into his gut.

Could…could it have been poisoned? Did the human just…change tactics? Did it decide to force it's toxins into his system, using Zelu's stubbornness against him? Human drugs could do anything and this absolute clam-brain of a shark just downed the whole thing in one go. He essentially drank a whole bottle of poison without thinking.

Was he going to throw it all up, organs and blood coming with it? Was he going to rot from the inside out? Was he going to pass out and never wake up? Was his body going to seize up in complete paralysis? Were his gills going to stop working? Was his entire organ system going to shut down? Was he going to go mad and start tearing himself to pieces? Was he going to be struck with a horrible rash that burned him on the inside until he succumbed to death’s feather-light grip?

Zelu looked over his shoulder at the tank outside his shelter. The room had darkened considerably, the sun having left the sky ages ago, leaving the tank as the only real source of light. 'Phelix' was still sitting at the table, face in its hands, light bouncing off its discarded glasses, which dangled from two twitchy fingers. A sign of clear distress, seen mostly in tired old neighbors or depressed travelers who had no meaning left in their lives.

He shuddered. Zelu couldn't get over how normal it looked, if you could call anything around here normal.

The Blenny from before swam in agitated circles, but that was just because it apparently lived in the blue cave Zelu called 'home'. The butterfly fish was doing laps around the fake plants, and one of the clownfish had left its rock. It floated just inside the cave mouth, looking far too innocent for a fish. Heck, clownfish liked to bite, Zelu knew from experience, they had no right to look like that.

"Am I going to die?" Zelu asked it, turning his body slightly. Morbid question, but he had to say to someone.

The clownfish didn't respond. How could it? Clownfish couldn't talk. He shouldn't be asking a stupid fish about these things, much less another captured pet. He probably already knew the answer anyway.

The clownfish hovered for a few long seconds, before swimming right on in without a care in the world. It ambled around the Mershark sucking up the discarded flecks of tuna, cleaning up the remains Zelu's mess. Then it stopped to face him, little black eyes staring right into his very soul. Like it wanted something.

Zelu tilted his head.

The clownfish tilted its whole body.

Zelu tilted his head the other way.

The clownfish tilted its whole body the other way.

The Mershark frowned.

"You're a weird fish, you know that?" He said. "That was probably poison and you just sucked it all up."

The clownfish yawned as if to say 'I don't care'. It looked down at the remaining tuna in his hands. Zelu blinked in confusion, before the realization of what exactly it wanted hit him. He smirked.

"Oh, you want the rest of this?"

The clownfish burped a bubble.

"Well too bad. It's mine, poison or no poison. Fuck off."

Apparently that was the wrong answer. The clownfish darted forward and clamped it's tiny teeth down on the tuna, tail pumping in an attempt to shove Zelu out of the way. Zelu yelped and tugged his precious food back, swatting at the orange menace. He and the clownfish wrestled with the rations, Zelu hissing and swiping at it with venomous claws, the clownfish refusing to let go and somehow dodging every attack. Zelu didn't realize their fight had left the cave until a booming voice scared them both into freezing.

"Mason! S-stop fighting with little buddy!" 'Phelix' snapped, despite still looking like someone just killed its brother. Zelu tensed up at the bite in the human's tone. "I f-fed you earlier and that's j-just for him, okay? No stealing."

The clownfish made one more attempt at jerking the fish from the Mershark's hands, before giving up and swimming off to the red rock, where the other clownfish waited. Zelu stuffed the tuna into his mouth, glancing up at the human with a raised eyebrow. He felt he should be more scared (the human looked terrifying at night, something about how massive silhouettes could scare the living daylights out of anyone with half a brain), but newfound food had kind of taken the edge off things. 'Phelix' sighed, clouding up the glass a little.

"You alright?"

Zelu chewed. The human leaned back in its chair.

"S-so." It muttered quietly, pulling off the (now damp) rubber gloves one finger at a time. "You….you can understand me? A-And you can talk, too?"

Zelu hesitated, swallowing. He pulled the tuna from his jaws, hooked teeth tearing small lines in its surface. Perhaps he should think this through. He'd been hiding for days and nothing happened, so maybe he should…..try and break that tradition? As much as he hated to admit, 'Phelix' was pulling possibly the worst pair of pup eyes imaginable without even knowing it. It could be intentional, to lower his guard, but since when had he been correct about this human? Ever? This was probably too fast, for him to try and give the human any information at all.

But Zelu nodded anyway. To hell with thinking things through.

"...a-and you've been able to this entire time?"

Another nod.

And the human broke down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To call that reaction startling would be a complete understatement.

The split second after Zelu nodded, the human had made a weird strangled 'oh' noise and buried its face in its hands. The table shook as the giant started to actually sob, taking great, shuddering breaths between frantic apologies and curses. Zelu cringed away, dropping his tuna with a hiss of surprise, spines raising at the sudden movement.

"Oh jesus, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry-" It sniffled, looking up at the spooked Mershark in front of it. Small streams of tears flowed freely down its face. "Th-this whole t-t-time I've b-been treating you like a…l-like a…...god I'm so sorry, I'm such a freaking m-mo-mor-moron!"

Zelu wasn't quite sure how to react. 'Phelix' just started…..crying out of nowhere. Slumped over on the table, face hidden in gargantuan arms, muttering so many apologies it just didn't feel right. The Mershark shifted uncomfortably, picking at his bandages. He decided he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit. He kind of wanted it to stop. This wasn't correct at all, it didn't make any sense whatsoever. Humans didn't cry, they couldn't. The stories spoke of them killing without remorse and loving without a heart. This both looked and felt wrong.

As insane as it was, Zelu needed to stop it. What else did he have to lose at this point, anyway? The human made it clear he wasn't leaving, so he'd probably die eventually.

Might as well use his last living moments doing what he did best. What was that, you might ask? Simple, it's causing trouble and being a general ass to everyone he didn't fully know.

Zelu raised a shaky hand and rapped loudly on the glass wall. The human looked up at him from behind its arms, watery eyes wide and questioning. Newfound bravery (or was it stupidity?) took over the wheel as Zelu crossed his own arms, clearing his throat with a hardened look.

"S-stop it." The Mershark announced, voice coming out higher than he wanted. He mentally cursed the small stutter at the beginning. "Stop doing that."

The human sniffled and shrank away, still opting to hide behind its impossibly long limbs. Zelu took that moment to continue.

"Stop crying." He demanded. "It's annoying and I don't like it. So stop."

'Phelix' quirked an eyebrow, massive head rising from the wall of pale flesh made by its arms. It tilted its head to one side, before shaking it, cotton all hair spilling everywhere. The human ran its long fingers over its face in a vain attempt to stop the downpour and straighten out the sorry sight.

"S-sorry...I d-do that sometimes…." It rasped, taking off its glasses to wipe away the still-oozing tears. Good lord, did this thing just swallow a bucket of sand? Its voice sounded awful. "Just…..f-feeling really bad r-right now…..."

"About what?" Zelu asked. He made sure his voice sounded hard and irritated. As stunned as his inner self was, there was a possibility the human could be intimidated, even if that possibility went well into the negatives.

"Y'know….. everything? G-grabbing you like that, tr-trying to f-force you to eat, p-pretty much k-kidnapping you f-from the beach….." 'Phelix' took in a massive shuddering breath, looking up at the ceiling. "I-I'm super, super sorry about a-all that…..I lied b-before, I really d-don't know how t-to handle tiny creatures…."

The human slumped over on the table with a booming thunk, shaking everything and making Zelu instinctively back away. It pushed its glasses up onto its forehead, eyes glued to the brown wooden surface. A few late tears quietly rolled down its cheeks, sinking into the algae-green fabric of whatever kind of armor it was wearing.

"I messed up. I j-just wanted t-to help, and I messed up. You have every right to b-be scared and h-hate me."

Zelu snorted a cloud of bubbles. "Y-Yeah, that was a major double-dick jerk move. You giant brutes have n-no manners."

Complete silence. Crap. He messed up. That had to be possibly the worst thing to say right now.

There's no way I'm avoiding an early death. If I survive this then I'm gonna eat Mala's stuffed sea sponge.

" 's rude...." He heard 'Phelix' murmur. "....J-Justified, but st-still rude…"

Well shit. No turning back now.

"I-I can be as rude as I want. You weren't the one who almost got crushed to death by a lying bone-faced oaf."

'Phelix' winced, but made no move to respond. It stayed like that for a good five minutes, an occasional sniffle or sigh puncturing the thick silence. After a moment, its eyes started to drift shut.

Zelu rapped on the glass again to get its attention. He didn't know what the hell he was doing, but his mind had thrown on autopilot and manual control couldn't take back the controls. "Oi, broken nose, i'm not done with you. No…No falling asleep in a pit of your own self hatred."

The human sat up a fraction of an inch, lifting its head to stare at the tiny form before it. The Mershark tried to ignore the pang of terror that struck him when those tired glacial eyes locked into his own wide emeralds. He was definitely pushing it. The small request from before was a finger dip, this was diving in without thinking.

Yet Phelix didn't look angry like he expected. They didn't even look mildly annoyed.

Phelix's entire front was clearly lit up by the fish tank's soft blue light, their outline melding with the shadows of the room. The turquoise eyes still swam with old tears, dark gouges resting under the eyes like shadowy swings. Those thick glasses shone so clearly in the glow, Zelu could see his own warped reflection. A halo of red burned around them like a mask, blotches of pink spilling over the rest of their gargantuan face, a thick droplet of snot hanging by a thread from their left nostril. The soggy bandage on their nose curled up at the ends, and their gnawed-raw lips parted slightly, revealing a very noticeable gap between the yellowing stone squares they called teeth.

"...eugh. On second thought, maybe don't look up." Zelu added under his breath. The human didn't hear.

For the second time in a row, Phelix looked dreadful. Clearly this wasn't the first time it had gotten upset. If he didn't know better, Zelu'd think it had been worrying and losing sleep over something the entire time he'd been here.

Zelu took a moment to compose himself. Why did the human choose to look like that? Why that vulnerable and broken? He swore, Phelix looked more and more like a 'they' rather than an 'it' with each passing second. Why not conform to the usual and throw up the 'nasty evil giant har har har' face he knew so well? Why not stick to the storybook definition like he expected?

"So. You confuse me." The Mershark repeated, louder this time. Gad, this is stupid. "And I hate you for it. So stop being confusing."

The human ran a sleeve across its face, stifling an exhausted yawn. "What's so con-confusing?"

"Oh, I dunno, everything? You don't act like you should." Zelu replied, tapping the glass with a claw. "Of all the humans to have captured me, I got to get picked up by a crybaby mutant. You're too confusing."

"Crybaby's a bit harsh…"

"Well you are one. I don't make the rules."

Phelix offered a weak chuckle. "S-sounds to me like you do, talking with that kinda atti-attitude."

"Well I'm not a god, king, or a giant! And I'll talk to you any damn way I want!" Zelu shot back, completely forgetting who and what he was addressing. "And I think you're a crybaby, so a shrimpy little coward crybaby you are!"

The human outright laughed at that. Their face still burned with past sorrows, but the jubilant smile that brightened their features took many, many edges off things. It still made the Mershark flinch, the sudden joyful sound rumbling around the tank like an earthquake. It took Phelix a minute to calm down.

"You're..heh... funny." They said through short laughs, leaning forward on their elbows. "Sorry for g-getting emotional earlier….heheh... I cry over stupid stuff all the t-time."

"You certainly do."

"So….what about me d-do you find confusing, Mr Shark? You d-didn't really give m-me a straight answer."

Zelu huffed and made a point in flexing his spines. He pulled at one of the loose wrappings around his chest, holding up the cloth to the human like a dirty rag. "Explain."

Phelix blinked.

"Y-you're confused about the bandages?" They asked incredulously. "I-I thought I was pretty clear a-about those."

"Well you weren't, so," The Mershark tugged on the cloth again for emphasis. "Explain, gigantor."

"O-okay, so uh….they're bandages. I put them on you to help with your injuries," The human offered a mildly confused look, resting their face in their hand. "And I'd like t-to change them without getting b-bit, but ah…..I now know that's p-probably not a g-good idea.."

"I know what bandages are, thanks, but what I'm asking you to explain is why," Zelu swam up closer to the tank lid to meet the human's admittedly low eye level, making sure every ounce of his energy went into keeping his voice and tone steely. He was a thread away from snapping under all that pressure. "Why did you put these things on me?"

"Because you were hurt…? And I d-didn't want you to die?" 'Phelix' leaned out of their palm and tilted their head to one side. "...Is this a trick question?"

Zelu sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere with this stuttering clam-brain. They were dead set on keeping their plans secret, that's for sure.

"Hey, if you can ask questions, c-can I ask some too?" The human asked suddenly, shaking Zelu from his dive into the eel burrow that was his angsty thoughts. "S-so it's not mostly one-sided. T-to make things fair, y'know?"

The Mershark tensed up at that mention, his iron-hard mask starting to crack right down the middle. He'd already given Phelix enough information, what more could it want? His name? His species? His weaknesses? The location of his family? Zelu didn't want to give away anything… but a proposed deal could get him some vital escape info, if the human decided to cooperate (which had a fifty-fifty chance of happening, based on what he's seen of them). He thought it over for a few seconds.

"....O-Okay, fine, I'll do a deal. What are your terms, human," He snapped, straining to weld his mask back on. "I won't agree to anything if I find it unreasonable."

"You sure like b-big words, huh?" Phelix chuckled, pushing their glasses back down onto their nose. "A-and it's not much of a deal, little buddy-"

"Don't call me that."

"Right. Sorry."

"I just want to have a c-conversation with you, okay? No tricks or ter-terms," The human clasped their hands together with a small smile, like they were taking to someone important. "Just a civil c-conversation between us, yeah? I ask you something, you ask m-me something. We both get t-t-to learn about each other, so it's a win-win for both of us!"

Zelu took another second to mull this over. On one hand, he was being promised unlimited information and a deal without any of the harsh terms he expected, if the human was telling the truth. On the other hand, Phelix would be getting information as well, and still held complete power over everything, as proven by….earlier events. They could still change the terms or cut it off whenever they wished. They'd already grabbed him, there wasn't much Zelu had over them aside from his venom and sheer determination. Heck, they could be lying about everything. That possibility was still pretty high, unfortunately.

".....Fine. Deal. Just know that if you try to break it off, I will claw the skin off your fingers," Zelu growled, plastering on a look of admittedly shakey defiance. "Ask your question, human."

"Yes!" Phelix gave a little cheer, clapping quietly, but to Zelu it sounded like a war cry. The Mershark cringed away with an undignified squeak, earning an apologetic look from the human. "....sorry. J-just excited."

"...what could you possibly be so excited about?"

"Oh, just…I've never really t-ta-talked to a merman b-before."

Zelu chose to not correct him.

"Alright, first question, ummm…." Phelix stuck a thumbnail in their mouth while they thought. After a few heavy seconds of chewing and thinking, the human's eyes lit up.

"Oh! I almost forgot! I never g-got your name, little buddy. C-Can I have your name?"

Zelu fidgeted. Bad first question. Very bad first question. Right to the personal stuff, all stops pulled. If these were siren rules, Zelu'd be dead for answering that kind of question. But he made a deal, and Zelu wasn't the kind of Mershark to break his word. From what he could see, humans didn't really have any magical powers. They were just big. And terrifying.

"Z-Zelu. My name is Zelu," He answered, voice wavering slightly when the human leaned forward in anticipation. "Don't ever call me 'little buddy' again."

"Zelu…" They mused, saying his name like they were trying to get a feel of how it tasted. "Interesting name! I like it!"

Phelix gave the Mershark a hearty grin, planting their hands on their hips. "Well it's nice to m-meet you, Zelu! You were on the b-beach and now you're in my sister's fish tank!"

"A total pleasure. I'm so pleased to meet you too." Zelu grumbled sarcastically. Why oh why did he give his name so easily? "So glad my kidnapper knows my name."

"Okay, n-now you ask a question!" The human said happily, making the fact that they ignored the last comment known.

Zelu thought long and hard. He contemplated asking about the room or the tank to make his escape somewhat easier (though his injuries would definitely hurt his chances). Then he thought about asking the human questions about themselves. Weaknesses, habits, that kind of stuff. So he'd know exactly how to defend himself should they inevitably turn and attack.

"My question is…." The Mershark looked up at the human, who was gazing at him with wide, excited eyes. Zelu frowned as whatever he was going to ask disintegrated into thin air.

".....okay. First things first. Can you stop with the creepy staring? It's freaking me out."

"Right, right, sorry. I'll s-stop staring." Phelix replied quietly with a nod. "My turn!"

"Hold the fucking shell, how is it your turn? I haven't asked anything yet!"

The human knitted their brows and tilted their head to one side. They made sure to keep their eyes slightly to Zelu's right. "You asked me to st-stop staring. That was a question, so it should b-be my turn now?"

"That wasn't- augh, just forget it." Zelu grumbled with a snort. Those stories about human intelligence had to be exaggerated. That, or this one knew of the siren's policies and liked playing tricks. "Ask away, whale face."

Phelix nodded happily and the conversation continued. It went about as well as one'd expect, Zelu answering every personal inquiry with a bladed tongue, Phelix oversharing about pretty much everything asked of them. The Mershark ended up learning a lot of things he didn't even think of asking, which was both good and bad.

Turns out Phelix didn't own the fish tank that held him prisoner, nor did they own the fish inside. It was their sister's, who was off at a place called 'college' studying something the human referred to as 'siecologee', whatever the heck that was. Phelix also had never owned a pet or slave of any kind, dispelling yet another story about how every human kept Borrowers and captured Merfolk as servants and entertainment. It also explained the human's clear inexperience in handling smaller creatures such as himself. They claimed plants were much easier to take care of, so they never bothered trying to get an animal.

Phelix worked as this human job called a 'cashier' at some place known as 'Cove-Mart'. 'They' were a 'he', but refused to elaborate how. He lived in his grandmother's old beach house (the human name for den), having inherited it from her after she died. Phelix's white hair and too-pale skin came from him having something called 'Albinism'. That, the human explained, was a human body condition, which meant he got to look extremely pale ("Like an anime character, b-but in real life!"), had awful eyesight (Explaining those abnormally thick glasses), and needed to slather on this ointment called 'sunscreen' whenever he went outside just so he didn't get burned by the sun.

As for Zelu, well, he made sure he told him the absolute bare minimum.

Where was he from? The river.

What was he? Your worst nightmare.

Did he have family? None of your damn business.

Was he poisonous? Yes, very, so don't ever touch me again.

Would he prefer more tuna or something else? Doesn't matter, just no plants.

Could Phelix change his bandages? For now, absolutely not. I can do it myself.

What kind of shark was he? The kind that will bite off noses if you don't stop asking such personal questions.

Short and sour, that was how he swam, and he had no plans to change it. If the human wanted kindness or some sort of friendly attitude, they'd have to let him go right then and there. Injuries be damned.

Yet Zelu held back his true ferocious potential. He could be talking to Phelix as horrible as he wanted, but didn't for one simple reason:

Phelix was a human, a being hundreds of times bigger than himself. Phelix was a creature who could very easily crush the living daylights from his tiny, fragile body whenever he wanted. No matter how timid or stuttery he acted, everything about the human screamed 'massive and scary'. Sure, Phelix had outed himself as a complete emotional mess who probably would cry himself to death if he hurt Zelu, but that natural instinctual fear of the giant kept the Mershark on constant alert.

Every gargantuan breath was noted, the heartbeat of an organ almost as big as his whole body echoing through the human's hands and into the table grounded him whenever he thought of a good insult, the slight shaking of the aquarium glass whenever Phelix shifted or changed position kept his spines raised, the rumbling waver of a giant voice stabbing through even as the human tried to keep his voice low, all the little details to remind Zelu of just who and what he was dealing with.

So even as Phelix smiled and laughed and stuttered, Zelu kept his guard up.

Eventually the human grew tired of their 'friendly interrogation' and the question flow petered out. After one more inquiry about Zelu's well-being and one last comment about how he seemed to be doing better, he bade the Mershark a good night and vanished into the same room he so frequently went into. Phelix had described it as his bed-and-work room, so Zelu could kind of understand why it was used so much. But nevertheless, the Mershark found the wary side of him wondering about what happened behind closed doors.

Fortunately Zelu didn't have to think about that right now. He just needed to rest. Phelix had left a shrimp-sized roll of bandages in the water so he could re-wrap himself, and as much as he'd like to immediately, the Mershark needed to sleep. He was already many, many hours behind his usual schedule, having spent so many long nights awake and scared out of his mind. Tonight, Zelu would be able to get a full night's sleep. An uneasy one, he still didn't trust much, but a full night nonetheless.

If Phelix was telling the truth, he'd be trapped here in the fish tank for another two weeks until he was 'recovered and r-ready to go', as the human put it.

So again, all he had to do was wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After he learned to accept conversation into his routine and relax a little, Zelu's final weeks in captivity went past in a blur of new information.

Phelix actually wasn't that bad of a kidnapper, sometimes acting like his kidnappee wasn't currently being held against his will. The human shared his food, answered every question he was asked, let Zelu handle his own problems and injuries, and most importantly, he kept his huge, fleshy, clamshell hands to himself.

Phelix even started up a trend of having lunch by the fishtank, setting his plate on the half-covered opening while he tapped away on a grey folding device for hours. He let the tiny Mershark steal as much food as he liked, since Zelu quickly made it known that he wouldn't accept anything that was directly handed to him. If either happened to be in the mood, they'd talk for a bit until one got tired of social interaction, or until the grey device ran out of fuel. The Mershark slowly found he actually enjoyed their little chats, even if the size difference made certain things difficult.

Zelu learned that the green armor Phelix wore was actually an extra layer of fake insulation called a 'sweater', and was made of woven and dyed cloth. Zelu once caught sight of the human shedding his 'sweater' via an open door, revealing a much….rounder body shape than he expected. From a survivalist's perspective, didn't really need any extra insulation. When he politely asked about it (definitely didn't call his natural enemy fat directly to his face), the human turned a funny shade of pink and mumbled about something called 'slow metabolism'. Phelix didn't elaborate when pressed, forcing the Mershark to try and decipher the words' meaning all on his own. He didn't get much.

Zelu actually ended up telling the human stories about his home life. Phelix mentioned knowing humans like Mala and Cain, and wasn't that surprised to hear about the Rules. He said not many humans were like him, and that whoever made up the Rules had the right idea. Phelix reacted in all the right ways, too. He laughed when Zelu told him about the time Cain mistook a mud crab for a shiny rock, and he acted impressed when he told him about his races with Mala and Kepsy, but a small part of the Mershark said Phelix didn't really believe his boasting and obviously true skill.

Zelu in return learned that Phelix was almost called Sammy (near miss on that one, Phelix should count his lucky stars that didn't happen), as well as why the human ended up with a funny name. It was, and Zelu will quote him directly, because "My p-parents are b-basic southerners and wanted to be unique."

Apparently the normal human spelling of the name is actually 'Felix', but his human's name got messed with for whatever reason. Zelu personally preferred the P-H spelling. More aesthetically pleasing than the first.

Neither Phelix nor Zelu knew how magnets worked. Zelu didn't even know what a magnet was. They had a very deep discussion about it.

Once, the human came home late and left an entire crab leg on the fish tank lid without a word. Zelu made quick work of it, dragging the massive thing into the water with his teeth like a very tiny great white. He'd never eaten that much in his life and didn't leave a single part untouched, refusing to leave his cave until he felt less like an overstuffed oyster and more like the lean, wiry shark he really was. Phelix offered no real explanation besides the mention of leftovers from a red lobster dinner party. How the human got crab legs from a lobster was beyond him, but he felt no need to ask any more questions, simply pushing the empty shells to the surface of the water.

As for the final days with Phelix, those were punctuated by two prominent events that happened in quick succession:

His First Escape Attempt, followed by the Time he Almost Suffocated on Phelix's Writing Desk.

The human had made a fatal mistake that day. After their usual chat, Phelix gathered up the discarded bandages (he'd learned to change his own wrappings and let them float to the surface for the human to collect), cleaned out the leftover food from the tank, set the lid down on the table as he walked out of the room, and left behind a small glass of water not too far away.

A simple clear cup, half-filled with tap water, sitting oh-so-close to the fish tank's right side. And behind that glass of water, just a small jump's distance, lay an open window.

Only a fool would pass up an opportunity that big.

And only a fool would mess it up so badly.

Zelu made the first jump, but only after spending fifteen whole minutes thinking it over. He decided on trying his luck, there was still a small chance Phelix was lying about everything and didn't plan on letting anyone go.

After taking a swimming leap, he burst from the water in a near-perfect arc, landing in the water glass somehow without making a huge mess. The water felt way too fresh and sweet in his gills, like he was swimming in a bowl of liquidized sugar, but it had enough infused oxygen for a thirty-minute stay. Zelu waited to recharge his tail muscles, doing small stretches to keep loose and fit for the Big Leap. One last jump out that window and he'd be home free. He shot a look at the doorway, making sure it was empty before he made his next move.

Zelu ducked down to the bottom of the tiny cup, coiled tighter than the strongest spring, heart racing against many invisible foes, filling his gills with as much water as possible….

And he jumped.

He almost made it, too.

Zelu came within inches of that white-painted windowsill, wind whistling in his ears. His claws could practically feel the cool ocean currents as he soared so close to his target…

But the next thing he knew, his face smacked into solid glass, something in his nose popped, and he fell down, down, down onto the scratchy flower-patterned carpet.

Zelu's heart dropped faster than his body, and it was still falling even after he hit the horribly solid ground. Warm blood dripped slowly from his face. His lungs and gills were shocked into inactivity. Not a single part of him moved. No breathing, no blinking, no twitching, heck his brain could have been knocked dead for all he knew. The window was pretty far from the ground, so he didn't doubt everything important had shattered into a million pieces. One thing was for sure, his arms felt like lead and his tail seared white hot whenever it moved, like something thin and many-bladed had sunk itself through the skin.

The Mershark's eyes finally caught up with the rest of his brain, and he squinted. Zelu was seeing double and it really messed with his head. He laid there for who knows how long, just trying to focus on his surroundings and breathe normally. The ugly red-white pattern of the carpet seemed strangely distant, fading in and out. His brain was a camera (a human device, Phelix showed him his own once) and someone kept struggling to zoom in on a moving target. The room shifted and crossed over one another constantly. His own hands grew like, two more fingers, moving and twisting about without him feeling a thing.

The floor shook for a spell. Zelu moved a single eye to stare up. Looked like Phelix was back. And he looked absolutely horrified, standing alone in the doorway. Zelu smirked.

Heh. If only he could see his own face right now. Priceless.

"....Holy shit, Z-Zelu!" The human cried, making a mad dash to where the stunned Mershark lay. The ground trembled and quaked, jostling Zelu's motionless body with each footfall. He smiled at the approaching giant, lack of real oxygen already making everything seem funnier than it really was.

Phelix stopped in front of him, but didn't crouch. Somehow Zelu was high enough for a simple lean-over to achieve full looming capacity. The human's hands came up to cover his mouth in shock. "....little b-b-buddy..?"

"...don' call m' th't..." Zelu heard himself mutter. His tongue felt stuck to the floor of his mouth, words coming out slurred, nasally, and low. If he didn't know better, he would have thought he just huffed some pufferfish venom. "...'s disr'sp'ctful….."

Phelix sighed, sending a warm breeze over the Mershark. He shuddered in response to the change in temperature.

"O-okay okay thank God, I thought y-you were d-d-dead…"

Zelu raised a hand with a groan of annoyance, letting it hit the ground again with a quiet smack. "...'m alm'st ded…f'ck'n stupid head…..get it rite..."

"Right r-right, okay, you d-do you…" The human said, making quick motions with his hands as if he wanted to do something but kept stopping himself. "Thank God I decided t-to move my d-d-desk under that window….you landed on my hair b-b-brush too.....Jesus Christ….."

So he didn't hit the floor? Zelu shifted his head sluggishly. Apparently, yeah, he wasn't lying on the carpet. Smooth dark wood met his cheek instead of rough carpet. And his tail? That stabbing feeling came from resting on a massive brush, thick bristles digging into his rough skin. It wasn't broken, just sore. This new information eased his snail-speed thoughts a little, but he still hurt all over. Not a life-threatening hurt, just a stupid-adrenaline-junkie-who-made-a-dumbass-descision-and-is-now-paying-the-price hurt.

Zelu snickered to himself. Something about that was funny.

"I'm g-gonna pick you up now, o-okay? A-And g-get you back to the t-tank." Phelix muttered, bringing his fingers around the Mershark. Zelu made a pathetic attempt to raise his spines, but they just twitched upward, before going back to lying flat.

The human gingerly cupped him with shaky hands, Zelu protesting with a weak growl that sounded more like a seagull being strangled. As much as he hated being handled, he didn't do much to fight back. Zelu was way too tired for that. Besides, he knew Phelix wouldn't hurt him. The guy was really gentle compared to the other humans who first found him. Once you got past his alienating hugeness, a guppy could be more menacing. Probably more dangerous too.

"Y-You're an idiot, you know th-that?" He heard the human say while he was lifted. The motion made his head spin, but he was able to power through it. "That was p-possibly the d-dumbest thing you've d-done so far…."

The Mershark flipped a bird in Phelix's line of sight, arms and head hanging over the edge of the palm like he was slumped over a railing, drunk out of his mind. "F'ck you."

Phelix snorted, cringing slightly at the sight of Zelu's bloody nose steadily dripping into the lines of his hands. It looked like a bunch of red veins had shown themselves, popping out as the slow-moving ruby fluid filled in the wrinkles and creases. Zelu ran a claw through one of the lines while the human spoke, absentmindedly tracing the highlighted path. Every so often, he'd find a ticklish spot and make the palms twitch.

"It really is though. P-playing hopscotch with my cups is j-just b-beyond stupid. The window w-wasn't even open."

"How was I s'ppos'd t' know that?"

"I-I don't know, by looking? You ca-can't have worse eyes than I d-do, Zee, and I haven't cleaned those windows in years!"

"I c'n do wh'tever th' f'ck I want, 'Phee'."

"N-no you can't!" The human shot back. "I swear, If I d-didn't move that desk, you'd have definitely either k-killed yourself or b-broken something important! Y-you can't just….d-do stuff like that! It-It's like you have a death wish or something!"

Zelu just lazily bit him in response, letting gravity push in his sharp little teeth. He was too tired to talk or bite with any actual force. He could taste blood, but whether it was his own or the human's he didn't know. The hand tensed up and Phelix stopped moving.

"Uhm...y-you aren't venomous, are you?"

Zelu unhooked his fangs with a tired, wicked grin. "Mmmhm."

(He wasn't actually venomous in the mouth, but Phelix didn't need to know the finer details.)

The look of devastation that spread over the human's face pulled a chuckle from the Mershark's throat, but it died when shock molded into annoyance. Phelix huffed something under his breath and practically threw him back into the fish tank, turning on his heel and speed-walking out of the room without a word. Zelu shouted drunkenly at the sudden action, hitting the cold water with a small splash. He righted himself and let his body float to the surface of the water, watching the human march about the house with mild interest, smiling to himself the entire time. The blood from his nose clouded the water around his head, but he didn't really care.

The air-deprived woozy thoughts had started to clear away, but he still couldn't stop himself from laughing whenever Phelix tripped over nothing or knocked over a random object. After a while, the human poked his head through the doorway with a frown.

"Th-this isn't funny! I-I have a very w-weak immune system!" He shouted angrily. Zelu clapped his hands over his ears at the volume, but didn't drop his smirk.

"I was lying you idiotic sea snail!" The Mershark shouted back, sticking his head above water. "Gad, you humans are so gullible."

Phelix's frown deepened. Zelu's voice gradually died in his throat at the look he was getting from him. The human looked like a strange mixture of sad and irritated. The Mershark shut his mouth with a click and ducked back underwater, hands coming up to pick at his wrappings. Awkward silence fell over the little room like a thick blanket of seal skin.

"....what's with the sour face? It was just a joke." Zelu tentatively asked, poking his head up so the human could hear him. "...Do humans not have a good sense of humor?"

Phelix huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, no, we d-do it's just….. nah, it's nothing. I'm fine. J-just a little….hurt…..I guess."

"Well duh. I bit you." The Mershark replied. "Of course it's gonna hurt."

"....How are you s-still able to t-talk like that after that fall....?" He heard Phelix mutter before continuing. "I mean the b-bite hurts a little, but it-it's not that k-kind of hurt."

"Is this an emotional thing?" Zelu rested his head on the tank edge with a fake-sad expression. "What'd I do to huwt your feewings, o massive one?"

Phelix shook his head. It didn't look like the human was in the mood for teasing.

"...sorry." Zelu made a mental note to cut back on the snapping whenever he looked like this.

"You're fine. I-It's nothing important. It's stupid, really. Y-you just scared me p-pretty badly, that's all…"

"And?" Zelu pressed.

"I...I j-just thought we made progress, y'know? And then you went a-and uh....and almost k-killed yourself trying to es-escape." The human said. "Th-that's why I'm...not in the best m-mood right now...."

He cut himself off, shutting the door with a disappointed sigh.

It didn't open for the rest of the day.

Zelu was left confused for a moment, but when it finally dawned on him, he retreated to his own private room. He made the human mad, but also sad, too. Apparently humans thought a few weeks of talking and sharing food meant full friendship and trustworthiness, even if the 'friend' in question was technically being held against their will. Merfolk didn't really follow that philosophy, friendship was made through years and years of knowing each other or being raised alongside one another. Two Merfolk weren't really true friends unless they hunted or trained together frequently. Zelu understood he 'hurt' Phelix, but wasn't quite sure how to fix it. He liked the human, yes, but he liked the seaweed beds and his family better. In the eyes of another Mershark, what he did was perfectly reasonable.

Zelu didn't leave the cave until well into the night, when he felt hungry enough to pick at his food stash.

Phelix ended up spending his time looking over the bite and sulking in his room on his laptop, while Zelu entertained himself with pebble stacking and wordless arguments with his neighbors until they both grew tired of staying awake. Zelu wouldn't know that until much later.

Had either of them decided to look out the window during that time, they'd have seen the large, grey fin circling the docks, before it vanished back under the waves.

Had either of them decided to pay attention to the world outside of Spotify playlists and snappy clownfish, they'd have seen a massive shadowy figure emerge from the water and silently drag parked boats and cruisers underwater, one by one until it found the boat it was looking for.

Had either of them bothered to stay up a little later, they would have noticed that same shadowy figure peer into the beachhouse windows one by one, before stopping at their own and vanishing without a trace.

But neither of them did any of those things.

So nobody noticed anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Today's the day!" Phelix announced, pushing open the door without any warning.

Zelu jumped, knocking over his pebble sculpture. He groaned in annoyance, shooting the human a dirty look before swimming up the tank edge.

"Today's the day for what." He said as he slumped over the glass edge, arms hanging over the side. "It better be important, cuz you knocked over 'Rainbow Monument part 3'."

"I-I think it's important enough!" Phelix replied, stopping by the tank to scoop out the uneaten food that had floated to the surface. He gave Zelu a somewhat relieved smile. "You're going home today, r-remember?"

Zelu didn't remember that, actually. But he definitely would call himself surprised to hear those words. It was shocking enough how quickly each of them got over the events of last night, they spent a full hour talking about it. A full hour filled with apologies and awkward silence. Zelu had been afraid Phelix wouldn't get over it, but based on the human’s attitude now, it looked like hsi failed escape attempt was old news by now. "Like, today? Right now?"

"Yes today, but I don't know a-about right now. Gotta m-make sure you're actually ready to g-go 'n all." The human dumped out the soggy remains of last night's dinner into the trash can, before pulling up a chair and sitting down in front of the tank like he was ready for some big interview. "J-just a few questions, y'know? I'll start n-now if that's okay."

For the first time in a while, Zelu let himself smile. He was going home. Like, actually going home. Phelix was letting him go, something past Zelu wouldn't believe even if it bit him on the tail. The only strange thing here was his own reaction. He expected himself to be more giddy or excited about it, but he really just felt a sense of mild relief. No over-the-top reaction, just slight internal happiness. Like the feeling you get when you're still hungry after eating dinner, and find out there's some leftovers nobody touched yet. Nothing worth shouting about, but still a nice feeling nonetheless.

"I'll t-take your silence as a yes." The human continued, pulling up a small paper list from seemingly nowhere. "S-so, as a whole, are you feeling normal? Like, how you felt before all this went d-down?"

Zelu gave himself a mental check over, then nodded. "I guess so, yeah. Fit enough to bite through some random fisherman's finger, if that's what you're asking."

"Okay, good, tha-that's good...any headaches? D-Do the tank lights still seem too bright? Anything li-like that?"

The Mershark shook his head. "Lights weren't that bright to begin with."

That was a lie, the lights sucked from the very beginning, but they're mostly tolerable now. Sunlight was way better.

"Do you think you could take off your b-bandages without getting any blood in the water?"

Zelu paused. "....I guess I could? Haven't….. Haven't really tried that yet."

"Could you t-try right now?" Phelix asked. "You d-don't have to if you don't want to, I'm j-just curious."

Zelu shrugged. He ducked back underwater and gingerly began to pull at the wrappings around his chest. They came off easily, unwinding with just a few tugs. He had to work a bit to untangle some parts, sometimes having to saw through the fabric with his claws, but eventually it all ended up in a small bundle on the tank floor. No blood or pain, which both the human and the Mershark took as a good sign. In fact most of his wounds had completely vanished, save for a few small cuts around his ribs, which were still healing over.

Phelix smiled. "Y-you look great, Zee."

"I always look great." Zelu scoffed in response, crossing his arms. "Just keep in mind I still blame you for everything."

"Mhm. Okay." The human muttered, still smiling. He flipped over a page on his notes, exchanging quick glances between whatever was on the paper and whatever he was looking for on Zelu. Occasionally he stood up and looked directly down into the tank, asking Zelu to turn around or flex an arm.

"....what are you doing?" The Mershark finally asked after another page was flipped. "You said just a few questions, not an examination."

"W-well, I'm j-just double checking a few things. Th-things look pretty good right now, i-if that helps."

Zelu huffed, but didn't question any further. Eventually, Phelix closed the notepad and stood up, a somewhat sad smile replacing the usual encouraging or friendly one.

"I-I think you're good to go, b-bud!" The human said, earning an eye roll from the Mershark. He pulled himself up on the glass wall, leaning almost half of his body over the edge.

"C'mon then, get me out of this damn tank!" Zelu demanded. "I hate this place! You, you're fine, I like you, but I don't like my neighbors at all. They suck."

Phelix chuckled and shifted his feet, but didn't say anything else. He looked….a bit lost, really. And maybe a little confused about something. His eyes kept flicking around, and he seemed to be thinking hard about something troubling, like a math problem or a particularly irritating roadblock. Zelu tilted his head questioningly, raising an eyebrow in frustrated confusion.

"So ah, h-how do you want to d-do this?" He asked after a bit of (gentle) badgering from Zelu. "L-Like, do I br-bring the whole tank to the dock, or-or do I transfer y-you to a cup or something?"

Zelu shook his head rapidly at the latter suggestion.

"No bags, absolutely not, I don't feel like sitting a fuckin water balloon." He snapped. "And I've decided cups can go die. I'd like it if you brought the whole tank, thanks."

Phelix nodded, but still looked a little confused and hesitant, absentmindedly chewing on his pinky nail. "B-but the tank is…..really heavy…."

"Then use one of those wagon things you told me about! Gad, it's not that hard!" Zelu jabbed a clawed finger at the giant's face. "You better not be stalling, mister I-can't-think-for-myself. As much as I like you, I'd like to go home more."

It was almost funny how quickly Phelix nodded and hurried off. The Mershark smirked to himself, but not in a mean way. A human, taking orders from a Mershark one hundredth of his size? And not killing him? Past Zelu wouldn't have believed it. He'd probably call Future Zelu crazy for telling such lies and try to fight him off, assuming Future Zelu was a fear-induced hallucination brought on by human drugs (which, according to Past Zelu's delusions, had been secretly mixed into the tank water). He wasn't even sure anyone at the beds would even believe him. They'd most likely pass him off as crazy too.

The Mershark snorted in laughter. Their loss.

Phelix came back a moment later, carrying a foam board which was attached to his wrist via a black rope. The board has images of waves and sharks painted over the front, and Phelix looked more than a little embarrassed about everything. He held it up for Zelu to see.

"I-i couldn't find a wagon, b-but I did f-find this. It'll work j-just as good, right?" He paused, as if waiting for Zelu's approval.

The Mershark purposely made a show of acting like he was seriously examining it, but eventually nodded. “Works just fine.”

Phelix gave a relieved sigh, and very carefully began the slow and difficult process of scooping out the other fish, finding good places to store them until he could plug it back in, picking up a twelve-gallon fish tank, and strapping it to a foam board. It took a lot longer than Zelu liked, especially since the human, despite being massive, apparently had the average physical strength of a sun-dried sea bass. It was pathetic, but he didn't say anything about it. Zelu actually appreciated all the effort Phelix was putting into this, when he could just simply…...ignore Zelu’s wishes and stick him in a bag. It wouldn't be difficult, certainly much easier than what he was doing now. The Mershark felt a small surge of gratitude push through his mask while he watched Phelix work. The sheer amount of luck he'd gotten, having this human find him instead of literally anyone else….

“Th-there we go…” Phelix muttered, standing up from a very strained kneel. “Is that b-better?”

Zelu gave the human a thumbs up through the glass. He couldn't talk, the lid was strapped on when the tank had been tied to the board, so really it was the best he could do.

Phelix nodded and gave a tired sigh, grabbing a wide vanilla sunhat by the door before beginning the slow journey outside, down the stone wheelchair ramp and over to the empty wooden docks. But he looked happy to be helping, so it lessened the guilt Zelu found himself dwelling on. Yeah, he was going home, that should be making him feel happier than ever. But….well it was stupid. The thought that he’d actually miss Phelix? Completely absurd. Nope, he wasn't sad about leaving. He wasn't feeling just a smidge guilty about being so rude or ordering that complete pushover of a human around. He wouldn’t miss talking with Phelix about topics he knew next to nothing about. He wouldn't miss learning about the human world. He definitely wouldn't miss the first non-related person to willingly spend time with him and endure his snappy attitude without making excuses to leave.

While Zelu shook out his thoughts to clear them up, turning his gaze to the human before him. The tank shook and trembled while it glided over the uneven boards. Phelix walked on slowly, making sure to drag the mostly empty fish tank as carefully as possible, but the Mershark noticed his legs shook a little more than usual. The human kept throwing blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glances over his shoulder, and seemed to put all of his body weight onto one foot while he walked, giving the impression of a hobble. His fingers tapped against the rope as if making sure it was still held firmly in his grip, but he couldn't help but notice how Phelix kept scraping his fingernail over the same spot. Zelu could hear the human puffing quietly (who couldn’t, he was very loud even when he tried to be quiet), which made sense as he was dragging something presumably heavy behind him, but it too seemed to have a somewhat frightened shudder to it. Zelu looked over at the docks around them. It didn't take long for him to see why the human was so on edge.

The docks were….strangely empty. From what Phelix had shown and told him, the marina usually had at least four people manning the boats or cleaning away bird poop, but not a soul was around.

Crowds were the norm, so for it to be this...dead? Weird. Very weird. Heck, the more he looked, the more he noticed there wasn't anything anywhere. No other giant humans, no squawking sea birds, no abandoned whale-skeleton boats. The marina looked more like an old abandoned fishing dock than the crowded marina of the supposed tourist town Phelix lived in. All the posts had rope and some fishing rods were still in their holders, but the massive, looming boats usually attached to them were nowhere to be seen. They reached the end of the dock, where it stopped pretty far out to sea.

The water was mostly calm, the sun giving it a very bright blue color as the waves lapped quietly against the wood. Nobody was out on the water, no pale shapes or towering masts off in the distance. There wasn't even a cloud in the sky. Just blue above and blue below. The wind whistled faintly and the water made water noises, but it did little to break the eerie silence that had suffocated the empty marina. Phelix hesitantly knelt down and untied the tank from the board, taking off the lid. Zelu poked his head out of the water with a worried frown.

“Are the docks usually this quiet?” He asked, not liking the way Phelix’s eyes nervously flicked about, like he was looking for something that wasn't there.

“N-no…...no they-they aren't….” The human mumbled in response. He pushed the tank closer to the edge, the quiet scuffling of foam against wood sounding like a rumble of thunder in the silence. “I….I, uh, d-dont know….why it’s-it’s so quiet.......it’s pr-probably nothing, you should….you should g-go now……”

Zelu shook his head and looked back down at the sea. It looked completely normal, cool and inviting, the breeze twisting up small waves so it looked like it was in constant motion. Very different from the fish tank’s artificial stillness. Humans could never truly replicate nature, even if they tried.

Yet as inviting as the water was, there was something…..off about it. He started to understand why Phelix was so nervous, looking down into the water, hands gripping the glass tank tight enough to crack it if he were bigger. Zelu couldnt put his finger on it, but it was almost as if…..something or someone was waiting for them. Not just Zelu, but Phelix too. He could see the faintest dark shadow, the tiniest ripple of movement, the smallest hint of something hiding beneath the cover of the waves. The obscurest of signs of something lurking under the dock, waiting for the perfect chance to strike. The sea felt almost as unnatural as the silence, even as it innocently gurgled and toyed with the dock’s wooden posts.

“A-are you…..are you going to l-leave…or-or....?” Phelix asked behind him, making the Mershark flinch.

“In...In a minute. I'm just preparing myself. Big moment, you know.” Zelu replied, but even he didn't find it convincing. Even a toddler could see how afraid he was.

“Okay, I-I guess…..I guess that m-makes sense…...y-you sure tha-that's it?”

“Yes I’m sure.”

“Alright…I’ll just, uh, be over here i-if you need me…”

Phelix awkwardly shuffled a few feet away, pulling the brim of his ridiculous hat over his eyes. He sat down and pulled his knees to his chest, suddenly looking much smaller than usual. Both knew they were afraid of something, but neither knew exactly what.

Zelu turned back to the ocean.

The water bubbled.

A large ripple wiggled its way out from under the dock. Zelu’s eyes followed it suspiciously.

Something to his right made a small wave push through the water.

And from behind him, Phelix screamed.

Zelu whirled around, heart rate going from zero to 100 in less than a second, adrenaline already zooming into his blood, eyes the size of scallops.

He didn't know what he thought he was going to see, but a giant hand most definitely wasn't it.

But there it was, a massive hand bigger than Zelu could even dream of, reaching out of the water toward where Phelix sat frozen to the spot, jaw slack, big blue eyes wide, fingers dug into the wooden dock to keep him from rolling over. Water fell from where it gathered in the webbing between the human-sized fingers, sickle-shaped claws dangerously curling inward, rough, toothed skin stretching and shifting above positively gargantuan muscles. It was bigger than Phelix, like big enough to wrap around the giant human like he was nothing more than an orange. That was definitely saying something.

Unfortunately for Phelix, he only had a few seconds to blindly stare at the hand before it slammed down into the dock, directly over Phelix’s spot, breaking through the old wood like it was nothing more than paper. Zelu screamed, whether it was from fear or surprise he didn't really know, he just did it. He screamed until his throat grew hoarse and his gills started to burn, before self-consciousness slapped him upside the head and he clapped his own tiny hands over his mouth. It did little to muffle anything, but he didn't really care about how effective anything was at the moment.

Zelu stared at the swirling water, at the bits of broken wood floating in the waves where a sturdy marina once was, at the exact spot where his friend was awkwardly sitting just seconds ago. Something wet was running down his cheeks. His tail was shaking violently, occasionally twitching in a random direction. His spines were stuck up defensively, but his fins pointed sharply at the ground.

“Phelix..?” The Mershark tried, voice smaller than his sanity.

This can't be happening. It wasn't happening. He was dreaming.

“Phelix?” Zelu said louder.

The water swirled. No sign of the human anywhere.

He can’t be gone. He can't. Not that soon. Not like this.

“PHELIX!!” Zelu outright shouted, dropping his hands from his mouth and pushing himself out of the tank as far as he could without falling. “PHELIX!!!”

Nothing.

Not even a bubble.

No blood, no bones, no bubbled screams.

Just......nothing.

Zelu sank into the still water of his tank. He felt frozen. Someone just dumped a bucket of ice into his veins and left without a word. His brain had been replaced with a rock. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn't believe anything. His claws found his hair and pulled, like that would ground him. Nothing was real, nothing was real, nothing was real, nothing was real….

The ocean behind him gurgled and something breached. Zelu spun around, hands in his hair, mouth hanging open like an idiot, eyes following the dark shape as it rose from the bottomless depths.

A boat-sized head with dangerous, predatory eyes the color of mud, slick sea-greased hair falling around its face like strands of kelp, finned ears displaying a pair of sharp milky spines that sat above them, a mouth pressed shut in a thin line of terrifying indifference, no doubt filled with fangs big enough to crush a fully-grown human into nothing.

A gilled neck and muscular torso with toothed skin, greyish brown melting into a vanilla white underbelly, a massive dorsal fin curving out from between shoulder blades the size of two great white sharks. In one arm, it clutched something firmly, the other hanging loosely at its side. More massive spines jutted out from those arms, one on each forearm, elbow, and upper arm. The spines folded neatly into each other when the arm was limp, spreading out vertically when it was bent.

Spines just like his own.

This beast, the same one that killed his first real friend, looked frighteningly familiar.

Fucking Déjà Vu. Why the hell do you exist?

The biggest giant he’d ever seen swept its eyes over the dock, locking onto the tiny tank, closed fist tightening. It lowered further into the water, fist held above water, eyes boring holes into the little shuddering Mershark. It stopped with its mouth above the sealine. Zelu swallowed, his own spines shaking harder than they ever had before. There was no way in hell it didn't see him.

The giant Mershark opened its mouth, exposing the fangs Zelu knew were there….

And it spoke.

“Zelu?”

The tiny Mershark’s breath hitched. His whole body froze up, eyes glued to the monster before him. Not a spine nor fin twitched.

It’s voice. It’s voice, it was quiet, it was questioning, it was a voice that clearly had not been used often. He knew that voice. Zelu channeled all of his energy into pushing his head above the water.

“Ca…..Cain..?” He squeaked. The giant Mershark nodded.

“Mom sent me to come and get you.” His brother (good lord that was his brother) rumbled. “Sorry you had to see me get rid of the human.”

“Y-you...you…”

“I haven't killed it yet, if that's what you're going to ask…” Cain held up his fist. “I can do it now, if you'd like.” “What-” Zelu shoved his body up, leaning his torso out of the water to stare right into Cain’s massive face. He wasn’t really scared any more, he’d kind of gotten used to this sort of thing, living with a human and all. Cain was just five times bigger than a human, not much of a difference in his perspective. “No, I don't want you to kill him you dolt! Put Phelix DOWN!”

His brother looked surprised, but obeyed and held his fist over the remaining parts of the dock. He opened it, and something green and wet fell onto the wood with a cough-punctured yelp. The human scrambled to his feet, sweater soaked to the bone, glasses completely gone, soggy hat clutched in one hand. Phelix’s staring gaze flicked over at Cain, then at the missing segment of dock behind him. He trembled, but did not move, feet firmly rooted to the wood, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

Zelu almost fell over in his sigh of relief. Phelix wasn't dead. He was incredibly shaken, but not dead. This was going to take a lot of explaining.

“Phelix?” The Mershark tried, looking up at the smaller giant. Phelix jumped, but then collapsed to his knees by the tank, hands coming to shakily grip the sides.

“Z-Zee, Ze-Zee, wh-what-what.. what’s…” The human stammered not taking his eyes off Cain. “Wh-who... i’m c-c-cold... it's-it's... I-I d-don't- Ze-Zelu-”

“Phelix, Phee, it's okay.” Zelu comforted (well, he tried to comfort), bringing up a small hand to pat the human’s thumb. “Can you look at me for a second!”

The human’s watery eyes locked onto him, and Zelo offered a small (kinda strained) smile. “Just focus on me, okay? It’ll probably be hard for you to forget what happened, but I need you to calm down. Nothing’s going to happen if you stay by me, alright? The stupid sea bass behind me doesnt want anything to do with you. You're’ fine.”

Phelix nodded a little too frantically, talking to himself in breathy high-pitched whispers. He seemed lost in his own little world, kind of hiding behind the tank the best he could, eyes firmly glued to Zelu’s slight left. The smaller Mershark turned away from his friend and shot the nastiest glare he could muster at Cain, who looked very confused.

“You tamed it?” Cain said incredulously, but Zelu held up a tiny hand to stop him. In the corner of his eye, Phelix flinched.

“What the FUCK were you thinking, Cain-in-the-ass?” Zelu snapped, loud enough to be threatening, but quiet enough to not spook the human behind him.

The larger Mershark tilted his head. “I-I was helping you?”

“DID I LOOK LIKE I NEEDED HELP?” The younger roared back. “Cain, tell me, do I look like I’m dying?”

Cain paused. “No…” “Do I look like I've been tortured?”

“N-no, you don't…”

“Then what the FUCK did you think was going on?”

His brother didn't say anything. Above him, Zelu could hear Phelix’s rapid breathing slow down just a little.

“I….don't know, to be honest…..” Cain mumbled. He seemed to shrink a little. Like literally, his size reduced by a couple hundred feet. Zelu watched with wide eyes as he kept shrinking until he was about Phelix’s size, looking incredibly embarrassed now that he wasn't a huge shark-zilla.

Well now I know what that ‘gift’ of his is.

Cain, Zelu’s older brother by five minutes, was a size-shifter. Size-shifters were extremely rare, born with the magical ability to grow bigger than the largest whale, but at the cost of living to only two-thirds of their lifespan. Legends told of these magical beings rivalling the Gods in terms of brute strength, gigantic warriors able to turn the tides of any war. The shifter abilities mostly stayed within one species, the great Whales of the open waters, but over time, the magical gene somehow spread to the other Merclans. Size-shifters could be found in any species from any clan, but most hid their strength for fear of being kicked out or turned into a weapon. Besides, Cain had incredible power, that much was demonstrated, but he’d only grow to 30 years of age, if he was lucky.

Zelu was reeling internally, but he made sure his anger at the older stayed in charge.

“Exactly. You almost killed my friend over actually nothing. He was going to send me home you fucking snail-spine, and how did you thank him?”

“..by almost drowning him…” Cain answered drearily.

“By almost drowning him!” Zelu repeated angrily. He knew Cain was just being overprotective, but he wasn't happy with anything at this point. Phelix already had an extremely fragile emotional composition, and his bottom-feeder of a brother just stomped all over them in two minutes flat. “Apologize to Phelix right now, or so help me, I'm gonna...i’m gonna…. Ahhh doesn't matter! You will apologize!” His brother shifted awkwardly. Phelix had stopped trembling, but Zelu could tell he was pretty afraid. The tank still shook slightly and his breathing shuddered, just not as extreme as before.

“I...guess i’m sorry, human…” Cain muttered, wringing his hands. “For almost killing you.”

The smaller Mershark turned to Phelix, a hand still resting on his thumb. Phelix nodded, not breaking eye contact.

“I-I g-guess, uh, a-apology…..ac-accepted?” The human replied. He looked down at Zelu. “D-do you know th-them..?”

“Yeah, he's my idiot of a brother. Ignore the whole size-changing part and he's harmless as long as i’m around.” Zelu explained, shooting another look at Cain. “You okay, Phelix?”

Phelix hesitated, then nodded again. “I-I g-guess…y-you have t-to-to go with hi-him, r-r-right? S-since he s-s-said he ca-came to p-pick y-you up?”

Zelu snorted. “Unfortunately, yeah. I do. Don't want mom to kill me any more than she would now.” Phelix tried to offer his signature gentle smile, but it came off as more of a grimace. He already looked on the verge of tearing up, hands twitching a little like he kept wanting to do something with them but stopped himself. Zelu sighed.

“Oh fine, c’mere you big baby.” He said, holding up his arms. Phelix hesitated, but eventually complied with the quiet confirmation.

He brought his hands around the tiny mershark, scooped him from the water, and quickly hugged him to his chest. Behind them, Cain gasped quietly, but made no move. Zelu was about to protest at the abruptness of it all, but he stayed silent and let the overemotional human cuddle him, half-heartedly patting the soft, slightly damp fabric of the taller’s sweater. A finger was petting at his hair and he could feel the giant heartbeat thump-thump-thumping away beneath all those layers, chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. It wasn’t half-bad, to be honest. As much as the Mershark hated being held, he felt he could let this one slide. Phelix deserved it.

“T-Times up.” Zelu muttered after they stayed like that for a good five minutes. He was starting to sweat a little, his body not used to being around that much body heat for so long. The human was like a living, breathing furnace.

Phelix moved his hands away with a sigh. “S-sorry…”

“Don't apologize. I gave you permission.” The Mershark shot back, but not in an unkind way. ��It was….nice….anyways. I didn't completely hate it.”

Phelix smiled for real this time. He moved to drop Zelu back into the tank, but thought better of it and instead positioned his cupped hands over the sea. He opened them, and Zelu didn't have to fall far before hitting the intoxicatingly cool water. He darted around in a few circles, taking in the wonderfully familiar feeling of seawater in his gills, something he once thought he'd never feel again. Above him, he heard Phelix chuckle quietly, no doubt enjoying the show. Cain swam up to him, now a lot smaller than before.

“Should we head back then?” His brother asked. “Before it gets dark?”

Zelu threw one last look at the docks and frowned. Phelix still looked pretty shaken up, the mellowness from before having worn off already. He now occupied himself by sitting on the edge of the docks, with his feet carefully under his body (away from the water), starting to wring seawater from the sleeves of his green sweater. He took off his hat and shook it around in an attempt to dry it off, which didn't really work out that well.

"Something wrong, Zee?" Cain asked again. His size had reduced dramatically, but he still had enough inches to loom over him protectively.

The Mershark shook his head, watching as Phelix got down on his hands and knees to sift his fingers through the water in an attempt to try and find his glasses (the human didn't know Cain had placed them in the dock behind him during their cuddle sesh, but it wasn't impossible for Phelix to not have noticed. He looked like he was enjoying himself too much to pay attention to anything else).

He really must be blinder than a starfish without those things.

"I'll be right back. Just wanna do something." Zelu told his brother before swimming off back to the docks. He stopped in front of the human, careful to avoid the latter's hands as he stuck his head out of the water.

"Oi! Broken nose! Your glasses are behind you!" He called out.

Phelix jumped, but thanked the Mershark and eventually managed to find them after a little more feeling around. He stuck them on and blinked to get used to the change in vision, familiar swordfish eyes returning to his features. Zelu gave the human a brief nod and swam back to Cain without another word, before the human could say anything else.

Cain's face said enough. Zelu punched his shoulder in irritation at the fake-adoring look he got from him.

"No, I didn't want another sappy goodbye. Whale face couldn't find his glasses." The younger Mershark explained haughtily. "Didn't want him to spend all night combing the ocean for 'em."

Cain smirked and rubbed his shoulder, but turned to start his path home, gesturing for Zelu to follow. The younger obliged, but not without one teensy little look back at Phelix. He got a glimpse of the human's timid smile and impossibly small wave, one hand still carefully holding the frame of his glasses, but didn't dwell any further on it. He made a point of keeping his gaze strictly before him. How that giant could rival a baby seahorse in both shyness AND cuteness was baffling. It had to be illegal. A clear violation in the laws of nature. Zelu hated it. He absolutely despised it.

But not in a bad way.

And knowing his luck, Zelu knew this wouldn't be the last time he saw him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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dastardlydandelion · 3 years

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Max Mayfield and Tory Nichols in a horror film, what would be the plot/monster and would they survive?

this is it. this is the tumblr ask. the ask i've been waiting for my whole life. my time to shine, here we go!

filming begins under the cut:

tried and true creature feature, this is a werewolf movie. let's go with a werewolf between the van helsing (2004) and trick r treat (2007) variety. the beast once transformed is fucking huge, clearly both lupine and human, head almost entirely wolf, body primarily bipedal in shape, but robust, sinew shredding claws and big ass bone tearing teeth. also tails!! bc tails are cute!!! powers include monstrous strength, accelerated speed, healing factor. weaknesses silver and decapitation.

okay, so van helsing (2004) werewolves are mindless rage monsters and trick r treat (2007) werewolves are cognizant. for our max & tory creature feature, they're gonna of the in between variety. i chose a werewolf movie for these two specifically bc they both have their anger problems and the werewolf has long been a symbol of anger unleashed in the horror genre, even tho common gray wolves are just like. i mean, yk, animals, they hunt and howl and pee on trees and most of the time would rather avoid humans. but obvi horror genre werewolves are not common gray wolves, they need to be scary, and like, the remnants of traditional folklore influenced by rabies and discourse in the middle ages...wait, where was i going with this? anger, yes, max and tory both have anger problems and i think this works for what i'm gonna do with this theoretical movie.

who's the werewolf in town? terry fucking silver. bc terry is evil and dramatic and also, i think it's rly funny for a werewolf to have silver as a surname. he's fully cognizant in his transformation and he's purposefully biting kids and teenagers bc he wants more talented karate students. and like. yk, with the enhanced strength, speed, and regenerative recovery of lycanthropy, well. there u have it, more talented karate students.

do max and tory know each other, if so, how? okay, so in this 'verse tory is a lil older than max. that reflects their canon ages, i think. let's say max is 13 and tory is 16. billy has tory in some of his classes and he more or less makes a deal to spilt his allowance with her if she'll babysit max bc he's tired of neil riding his ass to babysit max. tory needs money so she's like, 'sure, why not.' max finds it rly stupid that she's 13 and neil thinks she needs a fucking babysitter but as far as babysitters go, tory is fun. she likes to show max what she's learning in cobra kai and they spar together a lot. max would actually like to join cobra kai but 1) neil would throw a fit on various fronts and 2) lucas is in miyagi-do. max knows there's some rly intense beef between cobra kai and miyagi-do. ofc tory's filled her in on the karate war, how could she not?

well one day tory takes max to the playground to watch a plane fly like she does with miggy in ck, and it's nighttime, ofc, and lo, the full moon is out. shining up in the sky. they hear a howl. they both look at each other. max is kinda curious but tory's like nah, nah, we gotta go. she grabs her, starts pulling her along. but the next howl is a lot closer and they can hear smth running and it just sounds fuckin big. they're running too now, legs pumping hard, but there's no escape once the beast is right behind them, hot, rancid breath blasting the backs of their necks and harvest gold eyes glowing in the dark.

max gets bitten first. tory tries to kick the big ass beast off of her and then it rounds and bites her too. the terror is real now. and then shockingly, as fast as it'd come, it leaves. neither girl has an explanation for wtaf just happened but tory takes max home. billy gripes at her for being out late but helps her patch up. when susan learns what happens she decides to take max to get rabies shots right away. loads her up in the car, runs her off to the emergency room-- but when the bandages come off, they are no wounds.

tory's bby bro tries to help patch her up too. but he's like 4 yrs old and his idea of "help" is sticking bandaids with cartoon characters up and down the wounds in haphazard fashion. tory plans to redo it all properly once she's put him to bed. sure enough after he's asleep, and she peels the bandaids off from every open mouthed pac-man to every green teenage mutant ninja turtle, the wounds are gone.

meanwhile there's missing ppl err day on the news. terry turns kids and teens but kills adults for the lulz.

tory and max know what happened to them was an event that tangibly, definitely happened but neither have any explanation for their wounds just disappearing. max, our resident horror fan, is the first to propose a real life werewolf as an explanation. she cites the missing ppl on the news. tory thinks she's tripping balls but reluctantly gives an inch when she acknowledges no, she can't think of any other explanation.

life goes on. max tells lucas what happened only she leaves out the part abt tory bc she's not gonna tell a miyagi-do student she's kickin it w the enemy. he doesn't rly believe her, like how she didn't rly believe him about the upside-down in their canon. he thinks the horror movies are rotting her brain.

tory almost tells her dojo but she gets distracted being pissed off by sam and that should be her priority, right? sensei kreese is always going on abt getting back at the enemy. she spends her shifts daydreaming abt revenge bc it's more comforting than worrying abt past due bills and her mother looking paler by the day.

full moon next month comes around. neither tory nor max are cognizant of or during their first respective transformations. max's first kill is neil. she's seven feet of fur and fury, tears his ribcage open with claws like daggers and sinks her teeth into his putrid, maggoty heart. susan isn't home. billy is, but he doesn't hear any of the fracas. he's unconscious on the living room floor, crisscrossing impressions of neil's belt buckle blaring red on his back.

tory's first kill is sam. sam larusso wants to think she's a bully?? fine, tory will show her a bully. she hops the miyagi-do fence after hours. she just wants a fight. just a fight, they always fight. but then she's sprouting fur and tory as tory gives way to smth else. she'd not aware of being a person when she doesn't have fur. not really, all she knows is rage and ravenousness and the morsel below her has bunny rabbit wide eyes.

neither of them remember what they did the next day. not vividly, anyway. it's there but it's cloudy and hard to discern, like a groggy fever dream more than a memory. but max burps up neil's wedding band and tory finds señor octopus (sam's stuffed animal) bloodied in her bed. it's apparent what happened. max accepts this more easily than tory bc 1) she always kind of suspected she'd turn, since she sincerely considered what attacked them was a werewolf and 2) max isn't terribly upset abt killing neil while tory is acutely horrified she killed sam.

max kinda had some smidgen of attachment to neil bc like, he's the only father figure in her life and here and there they've had their moments. but his abuse (psychological/physical toward billy, sexual/financial/psychological/emotional toward susan, psychological/emotional toward herself) outweighed any and all of those moments. she is genuinely concerned that she tore a human being to pieces and only vaguely remembers it but like, if she had to kill anyone, she figures neil was the best to kill. max is mostly concerned bc she can't kill neil a second time. she's worried the next time she turns it could be an innocent person, or one of her friends, or her mom, or billy.

tory is blindsided and scarcely able to comprehend the reality, holy shit, max was right, she's a fuckin werewolf. and she's sick to her stomach bc she hated sam but she never wanted to do anything like that. she didn't want to kill, she just wanted to break her face. scare her. rough her up. she didn't want to eat her. she just killed someone. she's a literal horror movie monster and she just killed sam. what's miguel going to think?

tory and max talk. they decide they need to find the werewolf who turned them. we get montages of them going over the news articles with a fine-toothed *ba dum tss* comb and searching areas where it seems like a werewolf would be. the woods. some caves. max all of a sudden has a freakishly tall man constantly hounding her to join cobra kai. neil's gone but she still hesitates bc of lucas being in miyagi-do. also he believes max now and with the proff, she's decided to let the rest of the party in as well. they also exist in this 'verse. she showed them the crime scene and the wedding band she burped up. billy isn't a roid rage racist in this 'verse bc that would be a giant buzzkill. he doesn't believe the werewolf shit either. he thinks max saw neil get attacked by some animal and that the carnage was so traumatizing for her, she subconsciously created a werewolf fantasy to cope.

tory meanwhile spirals downward. bc she passes sam's memorialized locker in the hall everyday. her memorial table in the other hall, full of sticky note condolences and mournful teddy bears, and a picture of sam right in the center always, always accusing her. miggy is heartbroken and distraught. hawk didn't care for sam but even he's freaked out by what happened, how the news said there were only torn up chunks and bones picked clean found in her bedroom. tory is terrified of herself. she's desperate to find whoever did this bc she wants to make them pay. if sensei silver has been asking her extra questions lately and presenting her performance to the class more than normal, she doesn't notice at all. aisha notices tory's fucked up but tory can't exactly tell aisha that she *ate* sam. aisha is also mourning, she and sam used to be bffs. so she doesn't say a word.

max has a theory that if u can learn to control ur anger, u can learn to control urself when u shift. she is, after all, v familiar with angry horror movie werewolves. and she's savvy enough to know it's smth she and tory have in common. neil is dead but that doesn't mean max isn't angry anymore. she's still angry at the damage already done and tbh also angry that there's some werewolf around turning ppl willy nilly bc she recognizes the danger in that and it wasn't smth she consented to. but controlling ur anger is an easier feat for max than tory insofar that max has a support system w her friends, and better relationships with the remainder of her fam. tory has two mentors actively, adamantly teaching her and her friends to be ruthless, view the world as ur enemy, use violence as ur go-to solution, and that mercy is weakness not to be tolerated.

when the next full moon rolls around, they decide to spend it together under the correct inference that they will transform. they think it's better to be together. they're hoping they'll be able to control each other, if not themselves. or that if they are both mindless rage monsters again, that rage will be turned on each other. this would be a better outcome operating on the presumption that one werewolf will be able to take what another can dish out, at the v least more so than a regular human being.

max is successfully able to maintain enough of her consciousness to control her actions once transformed. she feels aggressive and hungry, but not enraged and ravenous. she can keep it in check. tory, on the other hand, uh...tory can't do it. she throws her wolf head back in the most bloodcurdling howl ever and takes off like a bat outta hell. max goes loping after her. they can't speak like human speak in this form, but max tries to communicate with her. whimpers plaintively. tackles tory at one point, not out of anger but just tryna subdue her, licks at her ears and tries to get her to settle. tory bucks her off.

tory runs off again, max in pursuit. they wind up at the skate park where billy n robby are prolly up to some fuckery or another. i could easily see pre miyagi-do robby n billy getting up to all kinds of mischief. ooh, actually, they're prolly arguing abt that. now that robby's in miyagi-do he has another outlet for all his energy and he's getting the positive attention he craves so he's not participating in hooligan activity or shenanigans w billy anymore and billy is like. offended. except suddenly there's werewolves. fucking. snarling, gigantic, toothy, hairy ass werewolves.

let's say robby kicked miguel down two stories in this 'verse too and tory recognizes him in her werewolf form even if she isn't exactly cognizant of herself. she tears straight for him, jaws open. billy doesn't exactly *mean* to protect him but it's kinda an automatic reaction from putting himself in between whenever he thought neil was getting too aggressive w susan or max. and like, sure, robby's the better fighter (not that billy would ever acknowledge this) but it's not like he's gonna karate kick the motherfuckin werewolf anyway-- billy is bigger, he's bigger and it's instinct and the next thing he knows, he's in between robby and the thing w sharp teeth (tory).

and that's when max gets serious. she bowls tory over, away from billy before she can bite. they're rolling, tearing at each other with teeth and claws. lo and behold, terry silver is lurking in the background like the evil mastermind he is, just watching them shred each other and evaluating his experiment. it's a p close match and tory is the more aggressive of the two but she's also been going, going, going since she shifted and she's burning herself out. she's also fighting with the blind instinct of a threatened animal while max maintains more precision bc she has better control of herself. max also isn't wasting energy unnecessarily. max gets her jaws around tory's throat and tory just goes slack. but she can think and she doesn't want to hurt tory, so she opens her mouth and relaxes her maw, teeth grazing harmlessly thru tory's fur.

tory's being shown mercy. possibly for the first time. it's so unlike her conception of others' ruthlessness, so unlike the worldview that's been instilled into her that it startles her enough to crack thru to her cognizance. she does the wolfy deference thing where they tuck their tails and lick at the dominant pack member's muzzle. max responds in kind and lets tory up.

this is when they notice terry lurking (billy's already worked out the werewolf that came to his defense is max so he's just dumbfounded watching all this shit, and robby's not abt to leave someone who just saved his ass, so he's stuck unsuccessfully tryna pull billy away and inevitably watching too). terry calmly slinks over, sizing up his charges. he's pleased with the performance. but tory and max are anything but, another werewolf fight ensues.

so while they all get huge after transforming sheerly on the basis of being werewolves, i'm gonna guess the size is proportionate to their human forms. so tory is a little larger than max and terry significantly outsizes them both. terry is also the more experienced werewolf. it's two against one but it's not the curbstop it would be if this was some weaksauce werewolf, it's dramatic evil karate werewolf terry fuckin silver. terry's shredding tf outta these two. their healing factor can't keep up, he's dishing out faster than either of them can recover and tbh they were already winded from fighting each other first.

but it'd be a major buzzkill if our movie had a downer ending. and also, the power of determination and friendship and shit. terry's got his jaws around max's throat now. he's a millisecond away from tearing it open. tory's pinned under him but she thinks fast, frees a hind leg, and rips her claws down his soft underbelly as deep as she can and doesn't stop ripping, like pedal kicking almost for a human, but with her hind claws. his intestines shoot out like paper snakes from a gag candy can!! okay, well, maybe they don't shoot out w that much gusto, but still. the bowels are free, the bowels are hanging low and tory's tearing 'em tf up, fluids n fecal matter errywhere. on tory. i'm sorry tory. ur under him, that's just how gravity works.

terry dies. healing factor can't keep up with the damage done, it's too critical. but nobody knows it's terry until the dawn breaks and he reverts back to his human shape.

max is v much 'i told u so,' in billy's face. robby promises not to tell. he doesn't want to get mauled or killed or anything. tory's able to cope better with what she did to sam knowing that it won't happen again, that she won't hurt anyone else she doesn't want to be she can control herself now. tory believes in mercy now bc max spared her, she trashes kreese's philosophy and joins eagle fang when johnny and daniel join forces in this 'verse too. max also joins eagle fang, takes her place in the front row right between tory and lucas at her v first practice.

credits roll.

after the credits we see tory considering turning her mother in the hopes that having the healing factor would help her mom's condition improve.

is that a teaser for the sequel?

idfk.

#max mayfield #dare i tag tory #i dare not #lucdarling #ask box #my fic tag #i kind of want to write this as a fic for real #fuck

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 3 years

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Since houses with teeth is shelved what will be fostered 7. Also how is FD coming along, i miss the updates😢😢

I’m not sure! I think, honestly, that the “main series” side of Fostered is done (so it ends at 6 books). It’s unfortunate because HWT came at the wrong time in my writing journey. I was in my last year of high school when I finished book 6 of Fostered, which I ended prematurely because I was in “writing puberty” lol where my genre, and how I approached writing greatly changed. I managed to finish a majority of book 6 balancing the older parts of my tastes with the newer, but by the time I got to writing book 7, I just couldn’t balance out these tastes anymore without having a headache or overthinking everything. The problem is that Houses With Teeth is a literary fiction novel with a genre fiction past/cast, and to write it properly, I would essentially have to completely overhaul every single Fostered character, which I do not want to do. I’d have to change backstories, even names, and I want to keep these things the way they are. There isn’t a collective story for the Fostered “squad” anymore! It really died when the dystopian elements died in the series. This is why I prefer the spinoffs more because they’re more intimate character studies. I could see myself writing HWT as a novella or something that follows Reeve, because it would be nice to give her a proper goodbye, but I doubt I will do that. This is a really emotional topic for me tbh because it really panics me to think Fostered will eventually end, but I’ve realized lately the series could be done soon, or at least for the foreseeable future. I really want to start writing things outside of this series, namely other novels, and while I love this series very much, I do think I’ve relied on it in recent years as a crutch to handle my anxiety about writing/in general. I struggle with anxiety when writing any novel that isn’t Fostered, which is weird because I write tons of short stories outside of that universe, but when the work is longer, I just freeze up! I want to work on this, and to do that, I need to take a break from/finish the series, even though the thought of that is terrifying (I think that terror comes from the anxiety)!

As for Feeding Habits, I had to take a huge break from this book this semester, not out of choice, necessarily, but necessity. At the beginning of the term, I was having a hard time writing this book, honestly. I had to switch POVs because I was... miserable lol! But then I got so busy with the term that I couldn’t even write anyway! I’ve been writing it actually in the last few days, and it’s going okay! This book is kind of torture to write sometimes because I am actually incapable of not hating or disliking the writing??? Sometimes I’m not even actively trying but my brain is like no u hate this! Like today, I wrote a good chunk of it, was like this prose?? gross lol, but I’ve made it a policy not to let that mindset stop me from writing because it has done so in the past, and when I go back, the writing is fine, and it was all my shaky perception. This is the only project this happens for??? Don’t know why!

The reason there aren’t any updates for FH is because I haven’t finished the next chapter yet, haha, it’s been months haha university as a writing major hahahahhaa

But here are some recent excerpts if you’re interested!

I wrote this at the very beginning of term. Lonan hitchhikes in the car of Lydia, who’s just picked her children up from school:

They stopped fifteen minutes later at a hospital in Portland. The children were mostly excited about its in-house pizza parlour called Zekes, which blinked in neon red letters. Esther and Jensen barrelled toward the revolving door while Lonan fumbled for his seatbelt, and in the end it was Lydia who had to click the release for him. When the grey belt slinked across his chest, back into its holder, he stared at her for a moment—how her red curls haloed in the sun, how a blot of ink stained her index finger (a paralegal, she could’ve been, a teacher, an accountant) how she smiled, this stranger who trusted him, her face this wide, unsuspecting plane—and then he sobbed.

Not sure if I’ve shared this already? But this is Lonan seeing his ex-girlfriend Glenne for the first time in a while:

She was filling two plastic bottles at the motel’s water fountain when he pulled up. The image of her this suspension of ink-soaked particles. She could’ve been a photograph, bent over the metal box, one hand dialled around the fountain nob, the other guiding a bottle to the greedy blip of water. The sun had settled like a yolk in the sky, frescoed her cheeks in persimmon. This is the same image Lonan stared at as he fumbled into the parking lot, mesmerized, trying to distinguish pixel from skin cell.

Glenne was smaller than he’d remembered, something new about her. Maybe a slyness, or a decomposition, or both. She wore a bleached grey pair of cotton overalls and no shoes. Against the mahogany motel door her blonde hair sparked. A woman on fire as she noticed him, her hands jerking so suddenly, the bottle she was filling disengaged from the tap and the contents splashed to the floor.

(TW: gore) I wrote this in a writing sprints weeks ago where Lonan in this chapter’s fictive present is in this super disconnected space to the point where he *tries (doesn’t really get that far lol) to kill Harrison with a butter knife??

Slit or swan. The knife across his throat like a block of Jenga reslotting. Him in the fridge lightbulb’s reflection, staring at a sealed block of gouda. It would be so easy, his arterial spray like the rays of water splaying the motel’s walkway. Him unsure when the pigment of the cheese’s red wax begins to come from him. Slit or swan. The refrigerator’s hum like the drone of cars dicing the freeway just beyond the parking lot. Remember it. That noise like caribou running.

I also wrote this during that writing sprint and LOVE the radio commentator’s dialogue:

Across the room, Glenne leaned over the nightstand, fiddling with the clock radio. In bursts, what could be heard from the room was this: the microwave whirring, then a jab of 6 o’ clock news, the microwave beeping, then a blast of electropop, the microwave slamming, then a radio host saying Tell me why I should care about almonds, Eileen, literally, tell me why. The microwave beeped again, then finally, a lick of violins pulsed through the speakers.

Wrote this description either today or yesterday??? what is time (TW: body horror-ish)

So much of his face had dried violet after the crash that it was difficult to find a patch of untouched skin. His eye was still bloodshot from where Eliza had burst the ventricle, and a scattering of cuts, small, like grains of rice, constellated his temple. His hair beamed from his head in different lengths. He looked more bird than human and even then, worse than a bird.

^^ confirmation that lonan IS a bird

I also wrote this today! Lonan takes care of Glenne’s baby, Olivia and it is so PURE I cannot handle it! At one point in time, I had a separate Fostered spinoff called ALANNIS planned out where Lonan actually takes on a fatherly role of Olivia who would be older at that point (he’s in his late 20s, I think she was like 7 or 8??) and so it’s so fantastic to see this role come to fruition here since I never thought it would!

The grocery store was a fifteen-minute walk away. With Olivia clinging to his shoulder, Lonan was acutely aware that she could feel his heartbeat. Open valve. Close. Repeat. Hers pulsed right above his heart, a miniature drumming. The sky had bruised purple, misted with clouds.

just imagine my terrifying bird man carrying this lil munchkin it’s SO CUTE!!

working on this chapter right now, so hopefully I’ll finish it and update you soon! <3

#asks #fostered

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Beauty Chooses II-Chapter 15

A special thanks to @statell for all your help and wisdom

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter 15 The Bear

My thigh muscles were burning walking up the steep hill to fetch Faith. She is helping a neighbor make apple and peach pies today and it was time for her lessons. Everywhere I look the fields are ripe and nearly ready to harvest. The summer has gifted us with huge crops from perfect rain and sun. The Ridge will do quite well this year.

I have had a low-boil of excitement for the past two months due to no period. What I wouldn’t give for a nearby Walgreens that sells early pregnancy tests. I will just have to wait and pray I was given another chance.

Once we socialized for a while and I admired the beautiful pies, Faith thanked the neighbor and we left for the trek home. I watched her lesson and was very impressed with the math she was doing wondering what a young lady in the 18th century would do with such a gift. It was making my head hurt to think about it, so I excused myself to lay down for a bit. Fighting fatigue is my greatest challenge lately and I find it best to give in and close my eyes each afternoon.

When the bed shook under me I knew Jamie had come to check on me. His warm hands slid down my arms and I yawned and turned toward him smiling.

“Are ye well, Sassenach?”

“Yes.”

“Ye dinna nap in the day usually, until recently. I canna wait any longer lass. Are ye with child?”

“Yes, I believe I am.”

He exhaled audibly and pulled me to him. He touched me like I might shatter with the slightest pressure and I smiled at him.

“I won’t break sweetheart. Perhaps I can show you just how strong I am?”

I reached for his breeks only to have him capture my hands and kiss them. “Another time my love. We are bringin in Floyd’s fields today and they’re waitin on me.”

He kissed my forehead and jumped from our bed. I knew he would be gone until after sunset and I sighed deeply before getting up myself. I found Faith helping Misses Crook shuck corn cobs in the kitchen and kissed her cheeks until she giggled. Glavia still did lessons with Faith every day but was quick to join the man who was courting her in the afternoon. Several times per week Daniel would come for her and they would walk and talk.

I watched them at social gatherings and saw true interest in Daniel. He watched her, always, when she was away from him and his face lit up when she returned. Glavia was sold into servitude by her parents at a young age, but her sharp intellect allowed her to self learn mathematics, literature, history, and advanced writing. Her hunger for knowledge always impressed me but she was in need of a different kind of lesson. There was no one to look after her adult education pertaining to love, courtship, marriage, and sex. It fell to me as I oversaw this beautiful girl.

“Glavia, would you come to my room, please? I want to have a talk with you.”

We sat cross-legged on my bed which seemed to relax her. We talked about Daniel and how the courtship was going. I could see she was in love by the rosy blush that spread across her face and the whimsical look in her eyes.

“Has he kissed you yet?”

“No mistress!”

“Well, it is quite normal at this stage of courtship to be kissed. Have you told him not to?”

“No, he has not asked me.”

“Do you want him to kiss you?”

“I do!”

“Next time you two are alone, like when he walks you home, if he stops and looks into your eyes you must stay focused on his eyes, do not look down at your feet. That tells a man not to kiss you.”

I could see Glavia’s mind working because she wanted to be kissed and would follow my instructions to the letter.

“He can put his arm around your waist when he kisses you but that is all. If his hands are wandering all over your body, you must break the kiss and run home. He is not an honorable man if he does such a thing. If he courts only you and has not asked for your hand in marriage after six months you must move on and find another suitor. Hard as that may be.”

Glavia stared at me through my dissertation and I knew my warnings were burned into her brain. I hugged her before walking downstairs. Her deer-in-the-headlight look tugged at my heart and I was glad I had not gone any further with her lesson today.

Later when I kissed Faith goodnight she asked for Jamie. She was learning one Gaelic word per night and she had not gotten her word yet. I assured her I would send him up the minute he came home. She is such a sweet little girl. I could not imagine speaking to her about kissing men and letting them hold her waist. I would surely poison them before they ever got near her. I giggled down the stairs at the thoughts I was having.

Faith practiced and used the Gaelic words she was learning every day and she would giggle, or gasp, at Jamie when he spoke Gaelic, reminding us both she could sometimes understand him. She was learning, and waited on her father’s instruction every night. It was not usual for a father to spend dedicated time with a daughter. His job was to save for her dowry and see her married as well as possible. I was immensely proud of Jamie for wanting his daughter to learn all she could from him. They had a special bond because of it. ********************** To my eternal happiness, a period never came for nine months. The birth of this child was not as easy as Faith, but like the first time, Jamie was in the bed with me, coaching and encouraging, no matter how many times the attending ladies asked him to leave. Brian James Alexander Fraser was born on March 19th 1753. He has dark curly hair, piercing blue eyes, and a healthy set of lungs. When the baby cried in the night, I would change his diaper and plug him into a nipple, I slept while he nursed. A couple of hours later he would fuss again and I would turn over and give him the other side. He was an easy baby with an abundance of people to answer his every grunt and cry.

Jamie built a bassinet outside that was strung between two trees so the baby could rest and coo outside while I hung laundry. He was just fed and sleeping quietly so I ran into the house for more laundry. I threw a few pieces into the washtub and felt the hair on my arms stand up at the low growling coming from the yard. When I raised my eyes I almost fainted.

A large brown bear ambled around, sniffing the trees, looking for food. He got closer and closer to the baby and I thought I would have a heart attack. I ran off the porch and picked up large rocks to throw but he was too far away. He kept coming so I ran into the house and grabbed the rifle loading it on the porch while the bear got closer. I would have to shoot across the baby to hit the bear. Hopefully, I could make him run away, grab Brian, and run to the safety of the house.

The beast was acting aggressively and stood on his hind legs, smacking his lips together. An invitation to fight. I raised the rifle to my shoulder, aiming right for his head. If I missed, or just grazed him, he would charge me, and Brian was between us in the bassinet. I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and pulled the trigger. The rifle shot was loud and echoed into the canyon and back again. I hit the bear in his face and he roared, charging at me. I loaded the rifle again with shaking hands, pulled it to my shoulder and shot his face again. He veered off to the side screaming in pain. I ran to Brian, scooping him up before running to the front door.

Misses Crook was white-faced when she ran to me and looked me over. Not minutes later, Jamie came charging through the front followed by Murtagh. I was sobbing and Jamie held us while I told him what happened. When he knew we were alright they headed back out in pursuit of the injured bear.

Brian eventually calmed down and Faith pressed into me for the better part of the afternoon. When Glavia took Brian to the nursery I turned my attention to Faith who was very pale. I hugged her to me and told her not to worry. First bear on the ridge in almost eight years, there wasn’t likely to be another.

Misses Crook called us to eat but I wasn’t hungry. The sun was going down and Jamie wasn’t back yet. The bear must be leading them on a good chase into the forest and when it was so dark to be completely black the bear would turn around and eat them. I shook my head hard to rid the image in my mind and went back to the window.

Some of the men built a large bonfire to guide them back if they were lost, by the light of the flames or by smell. Once Faith was in her bed with Glavia to read to her I went outside to speak with the neighbors. As I approached a cheer went up as Jamie and Murtagh emerged from the trees. They were both bloody and my heart fell as I ran to them.

“Thank ye for the fire, yer good friends to stand out here in the cool night. The bear is still alive, for now anyway, we will gather at first light and try again.”

Someone asked why they were bloody if they had wounds to mend. I was already looking them both over and could see no wounds or punctures from long teeth. I continued to look.

“It isna our blood, Sassenach, I’m not hurt, dinna fash. After sunset, the bear came back and attacked from behind. He grabbed both of us and I shoved my rifle into his mouth and let him chew on the barrel while we got to our feet. He took it, so I’ll be needin to borrow a rifle in the morning.” Jamie pointed at Murtagh, “if the same amount of blood is on me, the bear will bleed out by morning. We can hope.”

Jamie didn’t want to use up all the stored water in the house so he and Murtagh bravely turned toward the stream. I knew it would be intensely uncomfortable in the chilly night air. I grabbed two blankets and followed them.

“Thank ye Sassenach, but yer too far from the house now to walk back alone.”

I used my torch to find them in the water and handed each of them a chunk of soap and inspected their shirts before turning my back. I held the blankets out and felt one pull off my arm, and then the other. Thinking they were both covered by their blanket I turned around to take their clothes and poor Murtagh was hopping in place, trying to free his foot from his trousers. I whipped around again and squeezed my eyes shut as if that would erase the image from my mind.

We all pushed toward home, me, and two half-frozen Highlanders, and it was all I could do to keep my hysterical laughter from erupting. I left them at the fire to warm up and raced to my room where I buried my face in a pillow and let it rip. Bare butt cheeks were only half of it. In the shadow of my torch, I could clearly see Murtagh’s penis bouncing up and down when he hopped. I dared not go back downstairs and wondered if I could ever see Murtagh from behind without laughing. Thank goodness he was unaware.

Misses Crook placed hot bowls of stew in front of the men and kept them full until they both pushed away from the table. Jamie staggered into our room and collapsed on the bed. He smelled delicious and his naked body was filling my mind with things not so funny. I ran my hand over his gorgeous butt and received a loud snore for my efforts. I tried several times to wake him and if he hadn’t been snoring, I might think him dead. I gave up and pulled his lifeless arm over me, that was enough to fall asleep.

I was up in time to see the large gathering of men outside. Many had a rifle, some had a pitchfork. Jamie split them into two groups and taught them a strange whistle to be used when someone found the bear or its blood trail. Many wives ran out to fill their husband's pockets with dried meat and fruit only to have Jamie explain it would bring bears in from every direction and the gifts were pulled out of pockets instantly.

These were brave men who hung on Jamie’s every word. Murtagh went with one group, Jamie with the other, and they disappeared into the trees. I hugged the women and told them not to worry. I suggested we all look for herbs and mushrooms today. The women looked into the trees and shook their heads before scattering to their houses.

Glavia pulled the nursery window open a few inches and I could hear Brian making quite a fuss. Nice hint Glavia, I’m coming.

I was deep into the front yard when I heard him and walked quickly toward the house. Before I reached the front door, I felt my milk let down and my breasts tingle sharply. I started running up the stairs and grabbed Brian to my breast as it flowed into the fabric of my shift. I sat back in the rocking chair panting from my constricting corset and smiled at Faith.

“Good morning, darling. Did you have pleasant dreams?”

Faith put her hand on my leg and looked at her feet. It was clear she was still traumatized from the bear incident and my heart broke.

“Faith, do not worry. Your father has lots of men with him today and they will all stay safe together.”

Faith spoke quickly and I could see she was unsettled. Her words were half Gaelic and half English, and I felt a giggling pride that she had been so devoted to her father’s language. Glavia confessed that Faith requested Gaelic when she spoke to tenants and they were only too happy to correct her pronunciation and teach her the words she lacked to answer them. She looked at me sharply for laughing but I felt my eyes well up with tears and she knew how proud I was of her.

“I have never been so proud of you little girl. Now, I have a new lesson to teach you. Courage.”

“No mama, I am too fearful. I will never be unafraid, as you are, and I canna make myself. I’ve tried.”

“Fearful.” I rolled the word off my tongue thinking of the best way to explain fear. “I am quite familiar with fear actually, it is something I live with every day. It’s either making me shake or hovering in my head ready to fill me with dread at the slightest provocation. I dare say Glavia feels fear often, do you not my dear?”

Glavia nodded her head vigorously.

“Courage simply means feeling the fear and doing the act anyway. Yes, that about sums it up.” I smiled at my explanation until I saw the confusion in Faith’s expression.

“Darling, do you remember when I hit the man with my parasol? I was hugely afraid at that moment, but I hit him anyway because it was the only thing I could do. Courage is like the cavalry riding in to save you, or someone you love, when danger is near.”

“Cavalry.” She tasted the word with a strange expression.

“Sorry, a bit too soon for that word. Courage is that bit in you that rises up in the face of danger and does whatever is necessary to save yourself or someone you care about. It has bigger muscles than your fear and will save you. Yes, that’s better.”

Brian burped loudly in my ear as his head rolled in his sleep. I put him in Glavia’s outstretched hands and turned to my sweet daughter.

“The time will come when you will feel tremendous fear and the way to safety will be clear in your mind. You will do what needs to be done because you know it’s the right thing to do. Each time you do it, will be easier.”

Faith wrapped her arms around my waist and seemed a bit more composed when she left with Glavia to get a snack before lessons. I stayed in the soothing rocking chair and thought about all the times courage pulled me through something scary. Waking up in Jamie’s wood the first time, sailing to France not knowing where I might wake up the next day, walking through the stones, and running to save my family when the redcoats were twenty feet from us. I shook my head to make it stop because my heart was banging in my ears. I dearly hoped Faith would not experience a fraction of that.

I wondered how long it takes to find an injured bear and decided to read on the front porch to be available in case other wives came for news of the hunt. I squinted against the sun making my eyes water and kept them closed until the sting went away. Sometime later, I moved my eyeballs side to side under my lids, aware of the passage of time. My face was in the shadow of the porch when I opened them so I must have fallen asleep some time ago. I felt my smile as I stretched and then froze seeing a large animal not five feet from me.

The bear was walking straight toward me and I couldn’t move. It was huge and dripping blood behind him. I wondered if Jamie was close by and prayed fervently that he was. He was closer now. When I saw his front feet on the steps to the porch the alarm bells were ringing in my ears, I was hyperventilating, but I still couldn’t move. I would have to run past the beast to reach the front door and I couldn’t make myself do it. As I debated my plan the front door swung open and Misses Crook jumped out, followed by Faith and Glavia. They had pots and wooded spoons to beat on them making such a noise it scared the bear and he ran back down the stairs. I jumped to my feet ushering the woman back into the house and slamming the door.

I dropped to my knees and held Faith closely while I panted for air.

“That, my darling, is the very definition of courage. Thank you, all of you, for saving me!”

We crowded close to the window to see the bear, but he was gone. We continued to look until it jumped in front of the window on its hind legs growling at the sight of us. We all screamed and clung to each other. The bear was growling with his horrible mouth wide open and I prayed he would not bang into the glass and get us. I looked around for the rifle before I remembered it was lost and pulled the women away from the window. I told them to run for the nearest neighbor while I distracted the bear. They refused and I implored Glavia to run Faith to safety and scowled at Misses Crook.

The bear was getting frustrated. He could see us but could not get us, so he started pounding on the glass. I screamed at Misses Crook to hide upstairs with the baby. He pounded louder and I have never been so scared. I watched the bear shoot sideways with human hands clutching the fur on his neck and a shiny dirk plunge deep into the neck squirting blood sideways. I could see Jamie on his back, as the bear thrashed the dirk was brought down into his neck again and again. I watched in horror at the huge quantity of blood that pooled on the patio boards and covered Jamie.

Like it was slow motion, he plunged the dirk into the neck and moved it side to side violently. I could tell the bear was losing his strength as it tried to stand up and roar one last time. The bear fell forward with Jamie rolling to the side and getting to his feet. Brave Jackson ran to Jamie with a rifle pointed at the beast’s head. They stood still while the blood pumped out of the animal. There was no more life in the bear so ropes were tied to its legs and he was dragged off the porch and away.

I could hear Brian screaming and raced upstairs to find Misses Crook pacing with a hysterical baby. I took him and dropped into the rocking chair, telling her the bear was quite dead. I rocked my sweet son and hummed to him while I offered a nipple. It took several minutes for him to stop crying and finally latch onto me. I smiled down at him and tried to keep my face calm. “I can be your hero baby I can kiss away the pain I will stand by you forever You can take my breath away”

“I’ve ne’er heard that song mistress.”

My head snapped up, forgetting Misses Crook was still in the room. “It’s Enrique Iglesias, one of my favorites.” She blinked at me like she had never been to my century.

“Could you find Glavia and Faith and bring them home?”

“Aye.”

I watched Brian sleep in my arms. I knew there was chaos happening outside, but for now, it was just me and Brain and all was right in the world. When I had indulged myself enough, I put the baby in his cradle and went downstairs to wait for the women. I thought about Glavia and how sparkling happy she had been lately. My happiness for her ground to a halt and I counted on my fingers how many months it had been since Daniel first came to call on her. I was quite upset I had not watched more closely because by my count it had been well over a year. What could Daniel be waiting for I wondered?

“Glavia, may I speak to you please, before the lesson? How is it going with your suitor, Daniel?”

Her smile illuminated her face for a moment but was quickly replaced with concern. She looked at me strangely, almost like fear.

“It has been over a year Glavia. Has he talked about marriage, has he asked you?”

“No mistress, not yet.”

“He calls on you several times a week, what do you two talk about?”

When she looked at the floor, she tried to answer which was little more than stammering. I was flooded with fear for her suddenly and my question just flew out of my mouth.

“Glavia, has he asked for more than a kiss?”

She shook her head no and started to cry. Now I was really confused. I pulled her to the sofa and calmed myself before asking what her tears were for. It took a bit of time before she answered me.

“He has not asked to kiss me yet. I have done what you said, I look at him when we are together and he gets quiet but he has not asked.”

“Oh dear. Does he act fond of you?”

“Yes, he writes beautiful poetry for me, about love and devotion. He reads it to me out loud and says he wrote the poem for me.”

Her eyes became misty and full of love, but I had not a clue how to guide her. Well, I know what I would have done in this situation.

“Glavia, your courtship has gone on too long. I’m afraid people will talk about you in an unkind way that may interfere with other men courting you, if it comes to that. So, it’s time to say goodbye to Daniel.” When she protested, loudly, I decided it couldn’t hurt to tell her what I would do. “There is one more thing you can try. If he truly loves you, this will work. You kiss him.”

“What?! I couldn’t do such a thing!”

“You can, and you will, because you don’t want to say goodbye. It’s not so bad. Next time you two are alone where no one can see you, just hold his face and kiss him.”

“Hold his face?”

“Softly, like this, and look directly into his eyes, and then..”

“What’s this then?”

I heard Jamie’s voice from the front door and snapped my head up to see him wrapped in a blanket again after washing in the river.

“Do you mind if I use you to demonstrate how to kiss?”

He perked up, “I dinna mind mo chridhe.” He walked to me smiling and looking at my lips. I could tell he meant to lead so I put my hand up to stop him.

“I want you to act like you are not expecting a kiss.”

When he started asking questions, I tenderly held his face and softly kissed him. I felt his arms reach for me after that and suggested he dress before there is any more kissing. He looked cheated but went up the stairs to our room. I turned to Glavia and smiled.

“See? It’s easy, well maybe not the first time because you will be nervous. Maybe you would like to try with Murtagh?”

She shook her head yes and I called the unsuspecting man over to us. “Murtagh, before you disappear to dress can we borrow you for a minute?”

He approached with his usual scowl and Glavia bravely stood up, held his face, and kissed him. And then he fainted dead away.

“Oh dear God, Murtagh… Murtagh, wake up.”

I slapped his cheek a bit and his eyes opened as he scooted back away from us. Glavia was apologizing and walking toward him so he got to his feet and ran to his room. Maybe I should have warned him.

“That was magnificent! Seriously, you did it just right and I’m sure Daniel will not react that way. How do feel about the kiss, can you do it with Daniel?”

“I feel fine about kissing and yes I can do it, this evening when we take our walk.”

With that, she turned to the stairs to start Faith’s lesson. I felt rather wicked for not warning Murtagh and all the talk of kissing was making me uncomfortable. I decided to help Jamie get dressed for his afternoon of chores and maybe a quick explanation of causing Murtagh to faint, the poor man.

I had to help Jamie off the floor he was laughing so hard at Murtagh’s reaction to being kissed. I admit I was almost losing it myself and didn’t know who was helping who up. I was quite sure Murtagh would not speak to me for quite some time, but it was worth it. Glavia seemed to have confidence enough to kiss her boyfriend and I was on pins and needles all evening, waiting for her to come home. It was unusually late when I finally heard the front door open. Jamie and the rest of the household were fast asleep already.

Glavia pressed her back against the door and sighed deeply. She looked weird but I couldn’t put my finger on why.

“How was your evening Glavia?”

She rolled her head to look at me and smiled like she was high. Uh oh. “Well, did you do it?”

She drifted to me like her feet were not touching the ground. When she got closer, I could see the area around her mouth was red and looked painful. Then it hit me, they kissed so much he scratched her delicate skin with his beard. I looked again and decided that was a lot of kissing. Glavia floated upstairs without a word and I prayed a proposal would be coming soon. I made a vow, then and there, to be more careful with the advice I gave.

I waited patiently for the next two weeks, hoping Daniel would speak to Jamie about asking for Glavia’s hand but it never happened. After each date, Glavia would float in with a red mouth and say goodnight. Clearly, I had to meddle in her affairs one more time. When Jamie and I were in bed I broached the subject.

“Jamie, darling, I think you need to speak with Daniel about his intentions for Glavia. It’s been over a year they have been seeing each other and I am worried about her reputation. Will you speak to him, to Daniel, please?”

“Do I order him to marry the lass, or ask why he hasna already?”

“Well, tell him a year of courtship is long enough so he must marry her or never see her again.”

I could feel Jamie thinking about that and he undoubtedly thought it harsh, but I was the one to protect her reputation, so I would keep asking him. A month later, Daniel asked Jamie after church if he might speak with him later in the afternoon. Jamie agreed and I almost fainted with relief. This better be what I think it is or I will throttle that boy myself.

There was great excitement on the Ridge today as we prepared for the harvest festival which usually lasted all night and into the next day. The men had been hunting all week and there was already a pig, three turkeys, and a deer roasting outside. Misses Crook and I made numerous trips to the big tables outside bringing plates of bannocks, fruit salad, and bread. The tables were filling up quickly as we went back to the house for more food. Glavia would not be lending a hand this afternoon. She was sitting on her bed waiting for Daniel’s visit to be over so she could pump Jamie for information.

I thought the door to Jamie’s study was closed for an awfully long time, feeling my relief when Daniel dashed for the front door. I was already dressed for the party and poked my head in to look at my husband. He sat quietly, contemplating his universe and whatever was happening in it. I raised my eyebrows when he looked up and he beckoned me in to sit with him.

“Daniel has asked for Glavia’s hand and I gave my permission, now I feel afraid for the lass because her husband wilna make her happy.” He stood up and walked toward me lifting me and holding me close by my waist. “Tell me Sassenach, are all women like ye? Because Daniel wilna do what I do to ye.”

His eyes were burning with the question because Daniel presented himself as chaste and held that virtue in the highest regard. He knew how to create offspring but saw sex at other times sinful.

“If Glavia is like ye she will have a lonely life.” He pushed the hair behind my ear and looked me in the eye while he ran his fingers down my chest and over my nipple. “I fear he is pious and will not stimulate her interest in the world.”

“Jamie. She is in love and there is no telling her otherwise. Do not take on the burden of her happiness. It is up to Glavia to seek her marital bliss and I have faith in her.”

We were temporarily sidetracked by kissing and celebrating our mutual love, physical and spiritual. The house was filling with the smell of roasting meat and we could hear music and clapping outside. I pulled Jamie to the door and he seemed to shake off his concern and smile in anticipation of the party ahead. Later I saw Daniel steer Glavia away from the party and they disappeared. I sighed deeply hoping I was right about their union because it would soon be too late to undo this.

I bundled Brian up in his blankets and got back to the party in time to see Jamie dancing with his daughter as the crowd clapped. She was in full hero-worship as she watched his feet and copied him to the beat of the music. My eyes stung watching them. She seemed so grown up and was so loved by her father.

Later, I steered Faith toward home and helped her into bed suddenly aware of her need for a Gaelic word from Jamie. She answered me in a string of Gaelic and then translated, “he gave me two words last night.” I kissed her cheeks a dozen times and pulled the quilt up to her chin before turning down the lamp.

“You are my angel, goodnight.”

I put a sleeping Brian into his cradle and went downstairs to help Misses Crook with the catastrophic mess in the kitchen. I could see she was dead on her feet and ordered her to bed. I was still wide awake, waiting for Glavia to come home and tell me her good news.

She came through the door a changed woman, brimming with love, and seeing images of her wedding in her mind. I hugged her to me, so happy she had won her love and determined to meddle when the time was right so she would understand seduction and physical love.

Once Glavia was upstairs with the children I rejoined the party and a drunk Scot assaulted me pulling me to dance with him. I laughed until I lost step with the music, panting from my corset. Jamie whisked me away from the smoke of the fire and by the time I could breathe my back was against a tree and said Scot was chasing my mouth. He pressed into me asking forgiveness and kissed me deeply. I tried to see behind him to verify we were out of sight when my skirts came up to my waist and he pulled me up. My legs went around him and I lowered my head to kiss him as his cock slowly filled me. Christ, what a feeling it was when he first pushed into me. I leaned back against the tree and watched his arousal take off and his pace quicken. He held my head down on his lips and when I pushed away to breathe, he pulled my jacket open and exposed my breasts. That did it. I was in the race to finish with him and almost lost consciousness from my damn corset. My orgasm gripped him hard enough to make him grunt and he followed me into the erotic wind. I felt his kisses on my neck when I opened my eyes. He set me down on my feet and he hugged me closely before we giggled about our adventure.

Jamie was walking back to the house with me when several men were calling him to join in the games. I smiled and pushed him toward the party, wanting him to enjoy this night of fun that came only once a year. I banked the fire and turned the lamps down before heading upstairs reaching behind me to grab one of my laces and failing. I peeked into the nursery and Brian and Faith were sound asleep. Glavia whispered to me and I almost shot out of my skin. I pulled her to my room and closed the door. She helped me out of my corset and into a robe so we could talk.

She described the way Daniel proposed to her and thought it the most romantic speech ever said. I found it devoid of emotion and pious, suddenly sharing Jamie’s concern for her happiness. We would have to see how long dear Daniel can resist a beautiful, young, wife who is schooled in seduction. I would make sure Glavia knew what to do, even if it meant Murtagh fainting again, or worse. On second thought, maybe we should leave Murtagh out of this. What I intended to teach her wasn’t as innocent as a kiss.

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Belamour - Chapter Eight (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing

wc; 7.8k

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“Okay, but you have to expand on that.” Allio says, motioning to Trink and Lennox while staring directly at you. There’s a look on his face that says ‘can you believe them?’ and honestly, you can’t. They’re so vague, it’s like they want you two to keep on asking questions.

“I don’t think we do.” Lennox says, “In fact, I think the conversation should stop here.”

“Okay.” Trink snorts, “You’re just mad that I’ve brought it up again.”

Lennox doesn’t even deny what she’s saying, nodding right along with raised eyebrows. He clearly wants her to shut up, but Trink has no intention of actually doing that. So, she pauses from sharpening her knife for a moment, and looks dead at you and Allio. This makes Lennox roll his eyes.

“I give up.” he mutters.

“Good.” Trink doesn’t even look sorry, “Here’s how things actually went down--”

“It’s the wrong version of the story!”

“I thought you were giving up.” you say, which causes you all to start laughing.

Lennox’s face is a light shade of red, but he crosses his arms, and then motions for Trink to start. Trink gives him a white smile, and turns back to you guys.

You continue organizing everything inside of your backpack, not really wanting to have things be a mess on the inside. You and Trink will be sharing this bag, and Allio and Lennox will be sharing the other. Just so you all aren’t carrying your own separate things.

As soon as you and Allio are done, you’ll all be heading off and into the woods for a few days. This, of course, leaves the cornucopia up for grabs, but since you all weren’t able to do this properly on the first day, you decided to make up for it. On the way into the forest, you’ll stop at the pond for a quick refresh of water and then you’ll be walking the rest of the day.

The chances of you guys catching anyone is slim. The island looks huge, and since none of you have experience out here, it’s going to be a while before you become accustomed to the land. And it’s a little worrying that you’ve spent several days inside of the cornucopia. It just means that the other tributes know what they’re doing out there.

There’s only twelve tributes left in the games. The four careers--you guys--Finnick, Thyme, Blaire, and five others. You think one of them is Mac, from District Seven, and you’re not too surprised that he’s survived this long. He scored fairly high, but he’s not career material at all--and neither are you, you think. Out of all the districts, you think that only three of them have two tributes left in the games.

District One is Lennox and Trink, and they’re very obviously still alive. You’re alive, and you don’t remember seeing Finnick in the sky at all. So there’s another batch, and you think, you’re not entirely sure, that District Eight is the third district. You hope that you’re remembering that correctly.

Although, you’re not sure if it actually matters how many districts still have two tributes. In fact, you think that the count of the amount of tributes that are still alive in total is the important number. Eleven people alive, not counting yourself. The games are already halfway over, and with how the death’s have been going, you think that it’ll be over in no time.

Trink clears her throat, letting you three know that she’s about to begin her story, “I’m a senior, and so is Lennox. And back home, we’re semi-popular because we play sports together after school, and it’s why I look like this.”

Alarms start ringing in your head, because there is no way that she’s that strong and buff looking just because she’s playing a couple of sports throughout high school. With arm muscle like that, she’s had to have been lifting weights or something like that. Better yet, the best explanation for why she’s obviously so beefed up, is because of the private training academies there are in the career districts.

As far as you know, there is none in Four. Then again, you live in such bad poverty that you wouldn’t ever qualify for a place like that. Either you have to pay to get in, or you have to take a portion of your victory royalties and pay them off to the place. In all honesty, you’re not sure if it’s worth it at that point.

Of course, being able to know how to fight and defend yourself and having so much confidence in winning is a nice mindset. Makes you prepared, blocks out all that hesitation and panic that happens most of the time. But on the other hand, it’s plain cheating.

Districts One and Two have it going on, and everyone knows that. Even the Capitol knows that there’s something suspicious going on inside of the districts, they just do nothing about it. Why? Because they’re favorites. They make the stuff that the Capitol likes the best. Which is jewelry and all that other bullshit.

For Trink try to pass it off as school activities is dumb. Everyone knows what’s going on. You just have a feeling she just doesn’t want to admit it out loud. After that, it’ll be confirmed and President Snow might just have to take actual action in shutting it down. Then again, he doesn’t seem like he would do that.

Those districts are the least resistant and most compliant with what the Capitol demands. Anything that the citizens want, they’ll deliver. Because it’s keeping them rich and on top of it. Keeps their victor’s villages plentiful and their poverty rates down. Nasty ass cheaters.

“Lennox had this thing with a girl going on. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not even to me. But I’m smarter than that and caught on pretty quickly.” She says.

“Right.” Lennox says, there’s no intention for him to keep quiet, “That’s why you were so shocked when I finally told you.”

“I’m a great actress, what can I say?”

Lennox is laughing, “Bullshit! You’re a terrible actress. Fuck that story, do you two want to hear the time she was recruited for the school play?”

Trink’s eyes have narrowed dangerously and she’s pointing her finger in Lennox’s direction, “You shut up.”

“Then you shut up.”

“Lennox and the girl went into an empty classroom one day during lunch--”

“Shut up!” Lennox shouts.

Allio’s laughing, you’re zipping up the backpack with a smile, and Trink is having a hard time getting out the words, “It was a connecting classroom. There was a door to get to the classroom behind it for whatever reason.”

Lennox’s wiping his face, “No--”

“And in the connected classroom, was an english class taking a quiz, and the teacher in that room is so damn mean. Lennox and the girl start going at it, and I mean they’re getting into it--”

“Okay!” you laugh, “I don’t need the details.”

“The girl moaned his name once, and the entire class on the other side heard them. But no, Lennox and--what was her name?” Trink turns and looks at Lennox.

“I’m not telling you.”

“It starts with something fancy…” she’s snapping her fingers, a look of realization comes over her face and she’s looking smug, “Yeona.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Shut up for a second. Lennox and Yeona didn’t realize their mistake, even after there was giggling on the other side of the wall. Yeona moaned again, and that’s when the teacher on the other side had enough. One of my friends in the class at the time had sworn that they all thought it was teenage boys.

“But Miss whatever her name is, slams the door open and they’re caught red-fucking-handed. Butt naked--”

“Not butt naked!” Lennox is shouting, “Neither of us were naked!”

“Her shorts were pulled down to her thighs, Lennox. And your fingers were in unholy places. Maybe you weren’t butt naked, but she sure as hell was.” Trink moves her hair out of her face with her pinky nail, “Anyway, the teacher gave them both months of detention, and Lennox still has a lot of hours to make up. And it spread all around the school. And Yeona and Lennox are supposed to be grounded as hell.”

“I warned you.” Lennox says, “I’ll tell them about the school play.”

“Oh no, you won’t.” Trink is pushing herself to her feet, “Open your mouth and it’ll be full of sand.

You have a feeling that it’s not an empty threat, with how one hand that’s behind her back is full of sand, with a steady stream slipping between her fingers. Lennox doesn’t seem focused on her hands, more of the fact that he’s getting a chance to push her buttons.

“It was middle school, and she had bangs that were super fucking--”

His mouth is open wide, and she takes her chance. She wasn’t lying at all, she grabs a fistfull of Lennox’s brown hair and with the other hand, slaps the sand into his mouth. His eyes widen, and she lets go of him. He starts coughing, sand blowing out of his mouth and flying onto Allio.

“Dude!” Allio complains, face twisted.

Lennox is leaving the cornucopia, spitting out chunks of sand. Every time he bites down, you can hear crunching, which makes you cringe and gag. You can’t imagine the amount of bacteria in the sand, and how gross and dry it tastes.

“Bitch!” He coughs out, Trink looks satisfied and she’s dusting off her hands.

“Are we ready to go?” Allio asks.

You get to your feet, hoisting the backpack up and offering it to Trink. She takes it without a single complaint. After it’s around her shoulders, she picks up her sword and the rest of you follow suit, with the exception of Lennox. He’s now using water as mouthwash to clean out the sand.

“It’s stuck in my teeth.”

“Stop chewing.” Allio says.

“Thanks, genius.”

After that, the trip into the woods is fairly quiet. As usual, it’s about an hour’s walk to the pond. On the way, you four are sharing stories. Allio, Lennox and Trink share the most, since they seem to have a lot and are more enthusiastic than you are. You ask questions to keep them talking, but that’s about it.

They talk mostly about their family. Trink is an only child, so she has only her parents to worry about. She claims that they’re not very strict because they’re extremely proud of her and how far she’s come. She says that they deserve a nice place to live, and can do more than just retire with the victor royalties.

“We’d be able to get my mom a nice studio, a different room for each of her hobbies, and my dad will finally have a bigger desk for when he comes home. I can already picture what my room will look like.” She says, bouncing on her toes.

A room for each of her parents' hobbies? A whole office? You bite your tongue even though you want to tell her how lucky they’ve been. You’ve got a total of three bedrooms and one bathroom. One of the rooms is a graveyard, and the other two are shared between two people.

You wouldn’t necessarily say it’s cramped, because you’re lucky that you have a room away from your brothers in the first place, but you still don’t have your own space. You’re sharing it with Alyssum, and the room is the size of that walk-in closet back in the Capitol. Even then, that closet was huge.

And it’s not like you can even afford that place, even with both of your brother’s working overtime most nights. In all honesty, you remember the nights after you put Alyssum to bed, and you three gathered at the table to talk about the possibility of either selling the house to downgrade, or to sell your dead parent’s expensive jewelry that took them years to collect.

Most of them being heirlooms, others being gifted to them. All of them holding some sort of sentimental value that sparked the question of whether or not it would be morally right. In the end, you’ve never sold anything but you’ve cut it close plenty of times.

If you were to win, you’d get your own room, with brand new clothes and Alyssum would get all sorts of developmental toys. Reed and Mox would finally get their own rooms, which they’ve never had in their lives. Even before you were born and the third bedroom was empty, they had no choice but to share a room.

You’ll have a secure place to live, you wouldn't have to worry about rent anymore, you’d always have good food on the table, and would be able to afford the expensive things that Allio, Trink and Lennox can already get without the victor royalties. You bet that they’ve never had to go hungry some nights.

The conversation is sour on your part, and you slowly stop asking questions and instead find a particular interest in the sleeve of your jacket. They don’t seem to notice, continuously trading stories between each other. In what feels like forever, you’ve finally reached the pond and you’re loading up on water.

It’s a brief moment there, none of you need to stop yet. The sun is about to be in the middle of the sky, it’s still well before noon. You pick your things back up, and take the backpack from Trink, agreeing on trading it every other hour. After that, you’re right back to walking.

You’re all basically on the same path you took during the first day to get to where you’d stayed the night at. Had you all kept moving, you’re sure that Eytelle would still be alive and you’d be more used to the woods. Now, you’re not, and you’re beginning to see how many obstacles are poised throughout the trees.

The greenery looks suspicious, so you keep away from any leaves that vaguely remind you of poison ivy. You don’t think that the gamemakers would put something like that out here, especially not in what’s supposed to be a tropical-esk island. The cliffs that the pond was semi-hidden in, eventually dies out to a hill.

The only real cliff on this island is the big one that soars above all the trees, and can be seen from anywhere on the island. You wonder what’s on the other side of them, will it be ground or water? And what sick twist will be laying at the bottom? It could be a number of things, and all you hope is that you don’t get caught in it.

Unfortunately, the conversation doesn’t stay on them. Trink notices that you haven’t offered up any sort of information, and it immediately because of a blizzard of questions that you can hardly keep up with.

“What’s it like in Four?” Lennox asks.

“Busy.” you say, “And huge. My prep team said that we smell like fish, sweat and salt water, if that helps any.”

“What’s your family like?” Trink asks.

Yes, back to the family topic. Trink is an only child, Lennox has a younger brother, and Allio has a big family, similar to yours. He has an older sister and three younger brothers. And he even offered up information about Eytelle too, she has a younger brother and sister.

“Two older brothers and a younger sister.” you say, you feel vulnerable. Giving out information like this gives them a chance to use it against you somehow.

“Parents?” Allio asks.

You grit your teeth, “Dead.”

You’ve got their attention now, especially Allio. You know the question is coming before it even forms on his tongue, “How?”

He’s sadistic. Out of the four of you, you think that you’re the most dangerous kill-wise, but Allio is… demented. Asking questions on how people died and what it looked like. He might not have killed anyone, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t just sit around and watch and enjoyed it.

“Childbirth and drowning.”

“I thought you guys were supposed to be good swimmers.” Allio remarks, there’s a smug look on his face. Trink and Lennox are beginning to look uncomfortable.

“We are.” you look at him, pressing your lips together. “And a good example of that is the girl from Twelve.” the look on his face is fading. That’s right, you might have convinced them that you didn’t kill her, but you swam out of the depths of the pond and you’d do it again, “If you don’t believe me, we can go back to the pond and test the theory.”

There’s no answer.

“That’s what I thought.” you snap, looking back down at your sword.

You wonder if they’d be upset if you made a jump at Allio. He’s getting on everyone’s nerves, not just yours. This morning might have been full of high spirits, but he nearly killed Lennox just because Lennox tried to wake him up. There’s tension building, and it’s like a rubber band. It’s going to snap right back in your faces if you don’t stop it in time.

Hmm.

“Got any high school stories?” Trink finally asks, and you take the opportunity to launch into a story that lasts around thirty minutes.

Allio is quiet, stone-faced and sour looking. But the other two are in a light mood and laugh along at the right times and ask questions to keep it going. By the time you’ve finished the story, they’re begging for another. Lennox says that it’s funny, but not nearly as good as the Trink and the play story.

This time, Trink doesn’t shut it down because ‘he’s a fucking moron, might as well let him explain it badly’. And Lennox really does try his best to explain everything, but what’s funnier is watching and listening to Trink mock him and make faces. She’ll ‘uh huh’ and ‘right’ at the perfect moments, deadpanning and rolling her eyes.

By the time the sun is well, well past noon, Allio seems to be lightening up again. Trink begins to complain that her feet hurt, and it’s reasonable since you’ve all been walking for hours. You take a break at some tree beneath the shade, trink a minimal amount of water and hope that there will be another pond or stream somewhere close.

As soon as your feet stop aching, you’re back on your feet for a brief moment of time. It’s so short because of how fast the sun is setting. You all agree that it has to be the gamemakers, and decide to try and find a place to stay for the night. It’s just meaningless wandering for a while, until Trink spots something through the trees.

“Is that a fucking house?” Lennox asks, and then the four of you are running up to it.

Without a warning, he’s kicking down the door, and you’re all squinting into the shack. There’s no one inside, and it doesn’t even look like anyone has stayed here either. It’s a good sign, you don’t have to sit outside for the night. The moment that you’re all shutting the door, and Lennox is sitting in front of it to keep it shut, you’re growing tired.

So, quickly you eat the squirrel and a few crackers with the others. There had been no deaths today, so there’s no recap to worry about, and you’re all in the clear to sleep. You’re sure that you won’t need your jacket to sleep tonight, but there’s wind whistling through the cracks in the window pane, and you decide that you’d rather be hot than cold.

You use your arm as a pillow, hand on your knife at all times. The moment you begin to drift off, you can hear the light patter on rain on the wooden roof. Tomorrow will be wet, and you’re glad that you didn’t leave the jacket at the cornucopia after all. And because the noise of the rain is so mesmerizing, you’re falling asleep quickly.

Again, in the morning, it’s clear that Allio isn’t a morning person. Lennox had switched out in the middle of the night with him, and he clearly wasn’t happy about it. You can still hear the howl of the wind, which makes you all hesitate and debate on whether or not you should go out there.

You have no problem with the wind and rain, it’s whether or not it’s a tropical storm that has you concerned. You’ve been through plenty of rain storms back home, in fact, you think you might thrive in the rain. And you’re sure that Finnick is beginning to realize this too.

But despite this, the others decide to stay inside the shack. Lennox remarks that it’s a good thing none of you had actually stayed at the cornucopia, otherwise you’d be drenched and freezing. So, Lennox and Allio go right back to sleep and you’re left to stay awake with Trink.

“How long do you think that the storm will last?” she asks, picking at the wooden floorboards.

You look at the window. It’s dirty on the inside, already making it hard to see through, but with the rain constantly pounding on the other side, it makes it that much harder. You tilt your head, purse your lips as you try to think. The sky doesn’t look that dark from as much as you can tell, but that doesn’t really mean anything.

And you’re on an island, and the rain might be gamemaker-engineered. Could mean a number of things. It could last for days, and at that point, you’d all be flushed out and be shit out of luck when it comes to hunting animals and fishing, just fueling starvation. But on the other hand, it could all be some scheme for a fight.

“Depends on the circumstances.” you close your eyes, leaning your head up against the wall, “A load of things could be going on out there. I’d say that if it’s the gamemakers that’s doing this, it’ll hopefully be done in a day or two. Which just means that we should ration out the rabbit, crackers and other stuff carefully.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I’m eating.” she says, you open your eyes to see she’s got a small, teasing smile on her face.

The two of you fall into silence, and eventually you’re being dragged under again. You’re not all that surprised, sleeping in the sand might feel like a perfect bed, with how you shaped the sand. But it’s not exactly comfortable, and you’d much rather have something like the wooden floor boards. Even if they’re hard.

You’re tired. There’s rain on the house, and you can make the whistling of the wind sound like a song. Your last thought before you fall asleep is how you think that it’s a perfect time to be well-rested.

The next time you wake up, it’s to your boot being nudged. Your fingers fly across the floorboards and to your knife in the same instance that you open your eyes. It’s the others, the rabbit is displayed in front of them, clearly they’re ready to eat. You look at the window, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The storm has definitely calmed down.

“Did I miss anything?” you ask, scooting towards them and sitting up.

“Don’t know. It was really loud out there for a while.” Allio says, you’re fairly surprised that he’s talking to you.

“It’s barely a drizzle out there. We’re going to eat and then take a look into the sky to see if anyone’s died.” Trink says.

Of course, you slept the day away in the shack. You can’t be upset at it, and you have a feeling that tonight will be your turn to stand guard. You go ahead and help the others distribute most of the rabbit fairly, and when you’re still hungry, you eat a cracker and drink some water and insist that you won’t eat anymore.

Since you’re all well-rested, you all play some stupid game to pass the time. When Lennox starts yawning, they call it a night. You take the shift, and sit against where you had been sleeping before, which is on the far side of the room, away from the door. You listen as they all start to settle down, and their breathing becomes more spaced out.

And then you have the urge to pee, and manage to remember that you all were supposed to watch the sky. You tuck the knife into your belt and take your sword with you, zipping up the jacket to your chin and throwing the hood over your head. When you step out of the shack, you’re extremely quiet with how you shut the door, in order not to wake them.

It’s definitely not that late into the night, and it’s still raining lightly. You lean against the sword, staring through the tree leaves, into the sky. It’s a long silence, and you begin to believe that maybe you all had missed it after all. And then the Capitol symbol is appearing in the sky, and the anthem is starting.

Finnick and Blaire are still alive, their faces don’t appear in the sky. But the girl from Six appears, and no one follows after her. Such a big storm for one little person? You hope the gamemakers don’t have some underlying plan going on.

You take care of your business, and slip right back into the shack undetected. After shutting the door and making sure that it won’t be coming loose, you take a seat in your space, and spend the rest of the night there. Sometime during the middle of the night, you’ve pulled out the rope that’s buried deep into the backpack, and spend mindless time tying it and untying it in various knots.

Trink is the first to wake when the sun rises, since the sun rays are landing on her face. You offer to switch spaces with her, but instead she says that she’ll take the small amount of time before the others awake. Now, it’s your turn to take a small nap. It doesn’t last more than a couple of hours, which is fine. A power nap here and there won’t hurt.

When you’re all ready to go, you go right back into the woods. The grass and leaves on the ground are still slippery because of the rain, but there’s a comforting smell coming from the plants. There’s no complaints between you all, and for hours, it’s just silence between you all with the occasional chatter.

You’re all just mostly thirsty, wanting to find a pond or something with water. The deeper you wander into the trees, the more you realize that there’s going to be absolutely nothing. You can’t hear rushing water, and you’re too far away from the beach to go and drink salt water.

You don’t bother to break this news to the group, figuring that they’ve come to this conclusion, themselves. In the meantime, you continue to drink your water in measured time and hope that this isn’t making it worse on you. Allio says that you all should have set out some tarp and collected rain water, but it was quickly dismissed by Trink.

The water likely wouldn’t have been good to drink, and the idea really went to shit when he said that you could’ve used whatever came off the roof of the shack. Allio’s back in a sour mood after that, muttering, “Why am I always the bad guy?”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to tell him that he’s typically the one to start fights between you all. And just because someone cancels out his idea, doesn’t mean that it was a direct attack to him. You have a feeling that he gets the most attention back home, which is a hard transition.

It’s about another hour of wandering before it begins to dawn on you all for real. The arena has become hotter, the sun beats down on your backs, and at this point sitting in the shade is doing nothing. Lennox tells you that he’s out of water, and after a very small sip of yours, you give him the rest.

And then it’s done for Trink and Allio.

“How far back to the shack?” you ask, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You almost wish that you could take off the shirt and get away with it, but there’s no doubt that your brother’s back home will be losing their shit.

Then again, it’s for survival. You don’t want to drop in some useless heap on the ground because of heat stroke. Honestly, you’ve always hated the heat. Spring time is the best in District Four, because it’s not too hot and it’s not too cold, either. You begin to lose interest during the summer because that’s when you begin to sweat more, and the house feels awful to sit inside of.

No air conditioning, which makes for days at the beach to try and cool yourself off, only then do you get sunburns and have to spend the days inside, anyway. It’s miserable, trying to get away from the heat. When you were a kid, your mother used to give you and your brothers a fair chunk of change to go down to the ice cream parlor on heatwave days. You’d get to buy ice cream in exchange for a cold, air conditioned building. And Caspian and Calandra would always join you three.

And you wouldn’t be kicked out for hours, when the sun would finally be setting. Thank the owners, and then you’re all going back to the house. By that time, mom would have dinner ready and it would always be something naturally cold to ease the hot feeling you’d all have.

It’s the same thing for winter time, except with cold instead of the heat.

“Hours.” Lennox says, Trink is fanning herself with some large plant leaves, and it doesn’t look like it’s helping much.

Allio is fairly unbothered, he’s got this smug look on his face, “It’s not even that hot.”

“Shut up.” Lennox snaps, “It’s at least a hundred degrees in here.”

“And I’ve felt worse.”

Trink glares at him, “Shut up.”

You lean your head back against the tree, eyes closed. In no way are you tired, there’s just a pounding headache going on in your head. Your mouth is dry, and this is just the beginning of the three day process of dehydration.

Someone breathes in like they’re getting ready to talk, but they’re cut off by a chiming. Your eyes open, you lean forward to look out to see where it’s coming from. Lennox is on his feet, arms outstretched towards the gift from sponsors. The gift is fairly big, and you recognize it as a feast almost immediately.

Lennox sets it down in the middle of you all, popping open the lid. And immediately, you can smell all the delicious food inside, none of them actually have steam coming up. Cold food. And the bottles of water that have condensation running down them.

“Here.” Lennox passes off a piece of paper to you, “Read it.”

He begins to divide the food evenly, and it looks like cold cut sandwiches and water. You can’t see what’s under them just yet, but you know there’s more. There’s always several layers to a feast sponsor gift like this. And it really would be stupid to eat it all at once, and you think they know that too.

You look down at the paper, reading over it the first time around. This was a conjoined gift, from multiple mentors and sponsors, “‘A gift from us to you. Happy Hunger Games, signed Gloss, Enobaria and Anchor’.” You lay the paper aside, you recognize all three of the names.

It’s funny, since they’re all technically in order of each other. Anchor won before Enobaria, and Gloss won the year after Enobaria. And then after Gloss would be Cashmere, his own sister. This year will be the decider of whether or not it’ll be another District One or Two win, or a Four.

“Thank you.” you say, and the other’s chime in as well.

Trink and Lennox work together to split two sandwiches in half to make four. And then pawn them off to you and Allio. You’re free to take a cold water bottle for yourself, beneath the sandwiches you can see all sorts of fruits and vegetables that are undoubtedly fresh.

Obviously your mentors were trying to keep the foods as cold as possible to try and combat the heat. You can appreciate that, you feel like Anchor and Enobaria have the best idea of what it’s like to exist in heat. You sip on your water every now and then, not wanting to drink it all up. In no time, the sandwich is gone, though.

Even with all the nice food and cold water, the arena is still hot. You agree to give yourselves some more time before getting up and going. Lennox shuts the lid on the gift before Allio can reach over and grab more, and passes it off to you and Trink to put in your backpack because he thinks you guys have the most room.

You share a look with Trink, because that’s obviously not the reason. You go ahead and find space for it in your backpack anyway. Wanting to keep the water from your water bottle cold, you dump the remaining water into the metal thermos in hopes that it’ll work. The others think that it’s smart, and do the same thing.

With no garbage can around, you throw your water bottle at Lennox as a joke. He gives you a dangerous look before throwing his right back at you. It doesn’t hurt much, especially when it’s the bottom that hits your forehead. As you go through this, Trink says that she can juggle, and suddenly you’re giving up your bottles to watch her try.

It’s not the best, but she wasn’t much of a liar.

“If circuses still existed, you’d be the perfect act.” Allio says.

You can see the anger that flashes through Trink’s eyes. Before Lennox can lean over and restrain her, she’s launched across the picnic that you’ve set up, hands wrapped around Allio’s throat. You and Lennox get to your feet in a scramble, not liking the fight that’s going on.

Grabbing a hold of Trink’s shoulder, you place your foot on Allio’s chest to keep him down while you yank her off. With the help of Lennox, the two of you get Trink off of him.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Allio huffs, “Fucking bitch.”

He pushes your leg off of him, which causes you to stumble and fall into the grass. Trink is brushing the dirt off of her jeans, but she’s glaring at Allio, “Try me.”

“I did.”

She stands up again, and Lennox is placing himself between her and Allio, “Take a breather, please.”

“Beat the fuck out of him for me.” she snaps, and then swipes her sword on her way out.

It’s just you, Lennox and Allio still beneath the shade. Once again, you get to your feet, feeling a little pissed off yourself. He had no right to push you like that, not after you basically saved his life with Lennox. He should be thanking you, but instead his face is red and he looks like he’s going to attack one of you.

“Chill out.” Lennox says, “Seriously.”

“It was a fucking joke. Guess the bitch doesn’t know how to take one.”

“Or you don’t know how to read a room.” you suggest.

His eyes turn to you, “Yeah, I don’t know how to read a room. Fuck off, you’re fifteen, you have no idea what you’re doing. You’re not even going to win.”

“Watch your fucking mouth. You’ve got two people that don’t like you. If I were you, I’d start walking.”

Allio is puffing up, Lennox slaps his hand on Allio’s chest, keeping him from going at you, “Go back to the cornucopia or chill out.”

He doesn’t say anything else, you sweep up the backpack and pull it over your shoulders. Lennox does the same with the other backpack, and after getting your weapons, you’re alright back to walking. Lennox says that you guys should take a wide circle and go back to the cornucopia, since it’s clear that the forest is dense and you haven’t come across anyone so far.

You walk beside Trink, who's on the far left, and Lennox walks with Allio, who’s on the other side.

“He’s getting on my nerves.” she mutters.

“Mine too.”

She looks at you, “What did Lennox say to him after I left?”

“Told him to chill out, and I said a few things too. He wasn’t very happy.”

“I bet not. Hopefully that’s put him into his place.” Trink picks at her nails. Which is still covered in nail polish, just like yours.

Your nails have seen better days. There’s dirt beneath them, the polish is chipped in the corners. You can only imagine what they’ll look like in a few days. Better or worse? You’re just lucky there isn’t dried blood beneath them.

The heat begins to lessen up by the time the sun is setting. It still feels like it’s eighty degrees though, and you still slowly drink your water. Somehow, you all manage to circle back to the shack, which is still incredibly empty.

None of you are really hungry tonight, still mulling over what had happened earlier in the day. Allio tries to take the night shift, but the answer from all three of you is no. Lennox says that since he’s the one that’s most indifferent to the situation--Trink rolls her eyes--he’ll watch over all of you.

There is no rain on the shack tonight, instead the wind howls and acts like it’s going to break the wooden structure down. It makes you feel like you’re all on the verge of another storm, but you can’t see the gamemakers doing that so soon. It’s obvious that the rain and the heat was their making. They’re trying to break you guys.

It worked, for the most part. The four of you didn’t pass out from heatstroke, obviously but it did raise the irritation. You figured that would happen anyway, you’re sure that the fact that you haven’t run across anyone over the course of these days, haven’t helped at all.

Tonight, you don’t wear the jacket when you go to bed. You keep the backpack guarded behind you, and fall asleep with one arm through the hoop, and the other with a knife clutched in your hand.

When you wake, you figure out pretty quickly that you’re the first. Lennox definitely fell asleep at some time last night. You sit up, a quiet yawn coming from you, stretching your arms and setting down the knife. Your arm is still hooked around the backpack strap, and when you finally stretch the joint, it’s stiff.

You know almost immediately that you have to pee, but take the task of checking on the backpack first. You figure that it’s going to be fine, because there’s no reason for it not to be. But you find it unzipped, and when you pull back the fabric in a panic, the entire feast of food is missing.

The metal pot is gone, and so is the spare knife that you brought just in case you lost the first. And as far as you remember, none of the others brought a knife, and they know that you brought the spare. There’s only one person who’s been going at everyone lately, too.

You turn, eyes glared at Allio, who’s got his back to you and is still sleeping. You lean over, swiping his half-full water bottle and throwing it at the back of his head. He gasps, hand flying to the back of his head, “What the fuck?”

Lennox’s eyebrows draw in, awake now. He stretches his arms out in front of him and opens his eyes. Trink has turned over halfway, squinting and tired looking. Allio has sat up, and a staring contest has started between you two.

“That’s what I should be asking. Where the fuck is the food?”

That’s got everyone waking up.

“What the hell do you mean?” Lennox asks.

“The food is missing, all of it.” You pull the backpack around, and throw it so that everything spills out, making an incredible amount of noise and getting your point across, “Where is it?”

“Does it look like I have it?” Allio snaps.

Trink’s awake, she’s sitting up and reaching for the backpack that the boys were supposed to be carrying. Lennox passes it over to her, and she unzips and begins to go through it.

“You probably ate it all.”

“We don’t know that.” Lennox says, but he’s on the fence, you can tell with how his eyes keep shifting to Allio.

Trink clicks her tongue, and then slowly pulls out a container of grapes. All eyes are then turned on Allio, who’s turning a deep shade of red, “You planted that on me.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“You said it yourself yesterday! Don’t play stupid.”

You lean forward, “With that logic, Trink should be suspect too, but she has no reason to steal. You do, filthy ass pig.”

His nostrils flare, “Listen--”

“No! You listen!” you grab the container of grapes, hurling it at Allio, “After the shit you’ve pulled in the last twenty-four hours, I have a good reason to believe this. And the fact that one of my knives is missing is weird too. And by the way, I’ve been asleep all night, I have no fucking clue about you.

“Honestly, you could have gotten up after Lennox fell asleep to rummage through the bag, eat all the fucking food and save the grapes for later.”

“One of your knives is missing?” Trink asks.

“Yeah, I brought a second one in case I lost the first. You guys know that.”

Lennox is nodding, face hard as he turns to Allio, “Empty out your pockets.”

“You can’t be serious!”

Trink’s zipping up the boy’s backpack, “Got something to hide? If you don’t have it, you shouldn’t be getting defensive.”

Allio sends a nasty glare your way, standing up from where he was sleeping only minutes ago. He plunges his hands into his pockets and turns them inside out, all of them. Even his jacket, which he turns the hood upside down for.

“She’s accusing me and doesn’t even have proof.” he snarls.

“The grapes aren’t good enough proof?” you ask.

He motions to Lennox, “He could have placed them in the backpack, did you think of that?”

“Except I didn’t.”

“You were up all night last night watching the door, you’re telling me you didn’t get a bit hungry?” Allio’s squinting at him.

Lennox moves the jacket that’s laying over his lap, revealing a packet of crackers that he had grabbed for himself. You’ve watched him go through it over the course of these days. And Allio, seeing the packet, turns an even darker shade.

“This is dog shit!” he finally yells, grabbing his sword.

You three almost have the same reaction, fingers reaching for your weapons. But Allio leaves the shack, slamming the door hard enough to make the building shudder. It leaves you all in silence, and it’s not long before Lennox is looking at you.

“Did you wake up at all last night?”

“No.” you shake your head, “I woke up with the strap still around my arm, and my knife near my other hand. If you could take a guess, what time did you fall asleep last night?”

“Early morning.” He’s shrugging, shaking his head lightly too, “the sky was beginning to lighten up, but there wasn’t a sunrise.”

“Did he look awake?” Trink asks.

“No, you all were out cold.”

You press your lips together, gathering all of the contents of the backpack, back inside, “What if someone came in last night?”

It’s a cold silence this time, neither of them speak a word and you’re fairly sure that they stop breathing too.

“Why would someone sneak in and not kill us?” Trink asks.

“The door creaks too.” Lennox says.

You zip up the bag, and then look at them, “The door doesn’t creak if you’re careful with it. The night of the storm, I got up to pee and the door didn’t make a sound when I opened it or closed it.”

Trink’s looking at Lennox, “And a cannon would go off, wouldn’t it?”

Lennox’s nodding, thinking.

Eventually, Allio comes back to the shack, and by then you’ve got all the food piled up. You divide it again, disappointed that you won’t be having half a sandwich again today. But it’s better that you don’t, you think. Once you’re done eating, you pack up your stuff and just leave the garbage in the corner of the room.

It’s back on track to the cornucopia. In just a few hours, you’re replenishing your water at the pond. Lennox suggests hunting as much as you all can on the way back to the cornucopia, which means splitting up. But Trink says that there hasn’t been a single animal in the few hours it took you to get there.

However, you can see movement in the pond.

“Leave a backpack with me, I’ll just sit here and fish.” You hold out your hand for the one that Trink has. With no problem, she swings it off and hands it over.

“Don’t want company?” Allio asks.

You look at Allio, “Do you want to eat tonight or not?” you snap.

“Let’s go.” Lennox pushes Allio slightly to get him moving.

“See you in a few hours.” Trink says, “Be safe.”

“You guys too.” you wave, and then wait for them to leave completely.

After that, you place the backpack firmly next to you, and then get up to grab the fishing pole from the bush. Once you sit back down, you mess with it to get it to be comfortable in your hands again. You lay out a sheet of plastic, and then grab out your water bottle to use it as the reel.

It’s just a waiting game now.

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