| |
Lightbringer
|
Guess I need to add the don't post unless you are Freedom or Sir Froggington Plot Mers Guard x Servant Two friends recently joined the palace as a guard and servant. Characters Candor's Freedom's NPCs Person that the guard is serving Person that servant is serving co-workers family friends |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Edited at October 25, 2021 11:26 PM by -Invisible-
|
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
Name Aenon Orwell Age 24 (he's about half a year older than Orla) Gender Male Appearance He has stiff long dark reddish brown hair that has been described as auburn. He has brown lowlights and blond highlights throughout his hair. Going down his back he has long venemous spines like a lionfish. He has a round face and bushy brown eyebrows. His face is cleanshaven. He has a convex face and his dark brown eyes are round and stick out. His nose bridge isn't high and the tip sticks out more. His skin is a medium tan. He is rather stocky and fleshy. While much of it is muscle, he also has a lot of fat as well. He has large fleshy pinkish lips. His hands are calloused and scarred from working with them. From his belly down he has a lionfish tail flipped in the direction like a dolphin. It is rather transparent with darker streaks through it. He has a large rounded non venemous tail fin and a pair of venemous anal and pelvic fins on the bottom side with similar coloring. Personality He likes to have fun and a good laugh. Chasing dangerous activities gives him a thrill. He doesn't like to sit around and do nothing. He likes to get attention through making others laugh. It is hard to get him riled and angry. He finds boundaries boring, and pushes them not caring of the results. Since he likes to get a reaction out of other people, he will do his best to conceal the fact that he is angry when it does happen. He generally has a positive energetic vibe. One of the ways he often deals with being insulted is by sulking. He'll dwell on what had happened, but he won't say anything, because he knows the chances of being reprimanded are high, or of no one caring. He often doesn't think his actions through, knowing that if he stops and reconsiders, he might not actually do it. He likes to do things to needle people or get a reaction out of them. It gives him extra satisfaction to watch his plans perfectly executed. He is quick to come up with a come back, and it is often cutting. While his honesty and bluntness make him appear to be transparent, he is often planning something and sneaking behind people in authority's back. It amuses him when he outsmarts those who are supposed to be watching out for him. Sometimes he blurts out things that are insulting without thinking, because he likes to tell people what is on his mind. However, he doesn't normally do that when he is mad. While those who know him can call him out on some of her lies, especially the blatant ones, just because he tends to be straightforward doesn't mean that he can't tell one convincingly. He doesn't let people get close to him quickly, because he is used to them not really being friends and only being nice to not get in trouble or to get something out of him. He likes to execute sneaky plans and if he gets caught finds it amusing when people blow up and lecture him, because he thinks it silly. However, the punishments are often tedious. He isn't told the reasoning behind all of the rules that are enforced for him, and he is oblivious of things happening outside of her palace/castle/home. He is willing to get along with most people, but he can be high handed, making it hard for others to willingly tolerate him. Backstory He worked on a coral farm with his family. He isn't a strong swimmer, comparing to other mers. He is decently strong, and he is in shape for lifting objects, but not something that requires an elevated heart rate like swimming fast. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Name Orla Deianira Zenevieva Murchadh Though Orla enjoys watching people trip over her name as they try to pronounce it, she mostly just introduces herself as Orla. Age 24 Gender Female Race Sail Catfish Appearance Orla has very thick, defined features, dark and brooding with sharp lines. She has plump lips with a particularly prominent lower lip. When she grins, you can see a huge cavity stretching across three entire teeth on the right side of her mouth. It’s dark and nasty-looking and she clenches her jaw a lot to numb the pain. Her lips themselves are painted with black. She has a large, rather flat, and somewhat curved nose. Her eyes are hooded and give her a lazy look that’s actually very intimidating. Her eyes themselves are a sort of plain green color, like grass. She has thick eyelashes and will usually wear black over her eyes as a sort of eyeshadow. She has a fairly symmetrical face, but it’s marred by rough patches, small scars, and calluses, not to mention the large amount of freckles splattered across her face. She has soft cheeks, but her jawline is very strong. Her ears are rather small and delicate. Orla’s hair is done up in short dreads that reach halfway down her neck. They’re a deep auburn in color. They’re capped in fake gold, which both serves as a fashion choice and weights them down so they don’t drift in front of her face. She sometimes sweeps them out of her face into a ponytail for a big fight or physical activity. Orla’s skin is a rough bronze, covered in calluses, scratches, and small scars. She has strong shoulders covered in freckles and a bit darker than the rest of her skin, and a long neck. She’s elegant enough in appearance, a pretty normal height for a girl her age (about 5’5”) and rather thin from lack of substantial food. She’s stringy, a bit weedy, but she has strong arms and good, sturdy legs. The palms of her hands are calloused and rough. Her fingernails are always a bit jagged and long, and her fingers themselves are long. Her bottom half is that of a sail catfish, but her most prominent feature regarding the catfish part of her is the long, thin fin that protrudes from her upper back. Her skin turns to scales somewhere near where her hips would be, and has small, slightly rounded fins along it. The tips of her fins are black. Her scales are darker along the back and fins, a sort of dark grey-brown, and the other scales are more on the silvery side. Near the bottom it gets even lighter, nearly white. Orla might not be totally practical when it comes to her looks, but her clothing is always bland and practical as can be. If she adds any flair, it’s only if it won’t hamper her fighting abilities. She wears armor over her chest and back that’s made of abalone shells strung together with kelp. Besides working well due to the already-present holes, the armor does look quite splendid in certain lights. Kombu can be used to cover up underneath the armor, tied around with kelp stalks. This also serves to hold the coral-carved weapons that every guard is required to have. Orla is best trained with coral, but can fight with other weapons as well. When she’s not on the job she removes her armor but keeps her coral. On fancier occasions or when she feels like it she sometimes wears a necklace. This is an actual golden necklace, though it’s covered in algae. It’s very large and ornate, and looks green and has a few small shelled creatures living on it. She was never really one for earrings or rings, though. She’s a woman of simple tastes. She never really gets dressed up for anything, but she does at least try to coordinate colors. Personality Orla has a very odd sense of humor, and it’s rare that she finds a like-minded person to share a laugh with. Actually, she rarely actually laughs, but the metaphor still stands. Orla is one of the most dry people ever to exist, and it’s very, very hard to tell when she’s joking. She’s the kind of person who makes people laugh nervously and then stares them down, making them more nervous. She has a macabre sense of humor that doesn’t make much sense. And she never, ever cracks a smile at one of her own jokes. She comes off as incredibly intense in these moments, and the amount of eye contact she maintains is alarming. She’s never offended if anybody laughs at her or doesn’t get the joke. Any time she meets somebody that gets her sense of humor, though, she will declare emotionlessly that she loves them and continue to hang around with them as much as she can. She tends to be a bit clingy with those who understand her, though of course any signs of her emotional attachment are very difficult to decipher. She keeps most of her feelings pretty close to her chest. Orla has a very good heart, probably better than a lot of people who would consider themselves morally better. She can’t claim to know much about morals or philosophy, but she knows that when a person’s hurting it’s always worth her time to help them. Of course, she won’t take pity on anyone during a battle: she’ll let them run if they want to, but she won’t help them back up to their feet. Those who actively oppose her do not get her sympathy, but they do get her respect. She’s not opposed to lying, tricking people, taking advantage of them. But when she sees a person in a true moment of vulnerability, she puts aside everything to sit and talk to them, even if she doesn’t know them. She’s intuitive enough to generally be able to tell if she’s being lured into a trap, but a determined person might be able to pull one over on her. Orla understands comforting silence, but she generally likes to talk through problems and give people some inspiration - not advice, inspiration - to help them keep going. She doesn’t judge, doesn’t ask any hard questions. She just sympathizes and looks after the person until they’re better. She won’t go so far as to take someone home, of course. She never uses a person’s vulnerability or worst fear against them, and she really is a very humble person. She never boasts. She loves to throw a little shade, but it will always tear down the boasts of others instead of boasting about herself. Orla is really a very calm girl, and she never, ever gets riled up. She can keep her cool even in the worst situations, and is always flippant and aloof. She knows that presentation is everything. She keeps her feelings close to her chest and is very, very difficult to read. She always gives an air of being relaxed, like a lazy but dangerous big cat basking in the sun. She acts as if she owns the world, not in words but in action. She finds that luring people into a false sense of security is the best way to take them by surprise. Stay alert, make them underestimate you, and you hardly have to lift a finger. She never really exudes any amount of danger, but she always seems confident. She’s always willing to talk things out with people, to discuss things like rational people, and she loves to trade a few insults. Even in dangerous situations, she stays calm and focused. She’s incredibly sharp and has a great attention to detail. However, she can also be a bit slow to act, just a tad too thoughtful on matters of importance, and she doesn’t really take threats very seriously. She can be too chill, in other words, when things really get bad. She doesn’t seem to know when it’s the right time to act without thinking. She’s spontaneous in matters of fun, but prefers to think through everything else. Backstory I'll reveal more of this, but what's known about Orla is that she was pretty much raised in the guard's barracks. Some say her father was some above the sea, and she rather likes the idea, though she never met him. Her mother was always a shy creature, and she left Orla at the guard's barracks. Orla's travelled a lot, but in the end she came back home and followed same path she had been raised to follow. |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
The palace was alive. Mer people with their flashy colorful tails swam by regularly. There were constant vibrations in the water, because there was someone moving nearby. Fish were often weaving their way through spaces, which would be too tight of a fit for mers. Not only was the palace bustling, but the castle itself was alive. The palace was made from living coral, which could repair itself given enough time. Parts of the castle were arranged with stone to make certain walls higher, and coral was nurtured and planted by mers. While the coral could give some privacy from eyes, and make it harder for those to feel vibrations coming back to them, this place wasn’t meant for privacy. It was the political hub where important things happened. At least that was what Aenon tried to convince himself as he harvested algae on the outskirts of the palace away from the center of intrigue to feed some of the fishes that would feed these important people. While some mers loved algae, (particularly to eat) it gave the palace a cluttered, messy look, and sometimes it could cover up or choke out bright, beautiful coral. It floated around the coral, and in some cases settled on the coral. A bright blue fish as big as his head with different shades of markings came lazily floating up to him attracted by the food sourse. At home he liked to feed the fishes. It was nice that not all fishes were afraid of Mers, and he liked to keep it that way, so he reached out a hand covered in algae to give the fish a snack. After a little nibbling the fish began to move on. Aenon couldn't remember if it was an algae eating fish. His family at home had a nice plot of coral that they tended to. Unlike here where there was a desire for appealing aethstetic, they mostly left the coral alone. Every now and then they had to intervene to help keep it healthy, but they let it grow where it wanted to. Occasionally, they would cause coral to break off and grow new ones, so that they could plant it in areas where it was a little, thin, and bare. Here, he deadheaded coral to make sure it stayed colorful and occasionally transplanted coral where it was overpopulating to thinner areas. While he was working, he noticed a group of guards swimming his way. His head perked up, hoping that one of them was his friend. They had both been busy. Nobody was allowed to rest around here. While he could sneak away from time to time, guards should be too well trained for that foolishness. He looked over the group twice before accepting that she wasn’t there. His momentary break attracted the attention of a pufferfish merman, who was huffing. He easily remembered that this man was head over the servants who took care of coral, and he thought his name was Malik. “What do you think you are doing? You are paid to work and not to swim there gawking at our guards. Leave them alone and get back to work!” He wanted to protest that he had left the guards alone, since he could see that it didn’t matter that he had only paused and not taken a break. Saying nothing, he went back to work. The pufferfish man was annoyed. He had wanted to vent his spleen further, but Aenon hadn't continued the conversation to give him an opening. He clenched his jaw barely able to keep himself from seething all over his boss. Fine. He would be patient. If he had more nerve, he would turn his back upon the man partly to be rude partly to hide his face. He hoped that he would move on so that he could mutter unpleasant things under his breath in peace. He comforted and distracted himself with plans of when he would get to see Orla next. He was fairly certain he would be able to meet her in the dining hall. It would be challenging to time it correctly, but at least it would be a safe place where people wouldn’t yell at him. He would be able to get a meal and check the dining hall, after he finished his shift and took his algae to the coral pens near the kitchen. This palace needed livening. He had been able to do something at home to keep everyone from becoming bored. What could he bring to the society around here to stir the pot? After his boss left he decided he had a big enough of a load to go visit the pens. He looked around at the different fish seeing some that were really rare, expensive, and hard to keep happy, and many common fish that weren't as good tasting. Dropping off the algae that might be used to serve some mers, he headed inside and looked around. Grabbing his food from the line, he went and found a table near the wall and anchored himself between coral to wait for his friend. When more guards came, he immediately recognized Orla, even with all of her get up. He waved his hand trying to attract her attention, and hoping that sitting with a lowly servant wouldn't lower the other guards' estimation of her. Besides, she might be trying to make friends with those who were in her line of work. However, she wouldn't let go of the friendships from home would she? They had come here together so they wouldn't be alone. When she approached, he began going a mile a minute. "Orla Deianira Zenevieva Murchadh I'm so glad to see!" From time to time he liked to say her full name for emphasis and to show off that he could manage her mouth full of a name. "There was this fish that I fed. I was outside the palace walls. Tentacles! I probably wasn't supposed to since nobody is going to eat it. Probably call it a terrible waste or accuse me of stealing to feed a fish, but I did it at home, and it's so strange here. I noticed some guards go by and my boss yelled at me for taking a peek to see if any of them were you, and then he just wouldn't leave. I only paused so that I could see them, but Sir Shark senses stood around and stood around and stood around staring at me. Currents! I wanted him to leave so I could mutter behind his back." Realizing how rude he had been, he shrugged off any embarrassment and asked how her day had been as if he hadn't blurted out everything that had happened so far. "Found any friends? Where have you been working? How's the adjusting go?" Looking around he realized that everyone would be able to hear him, so he had to hope that everyone was distracted. "I don't think people around here hang out together. When I'm through with this place, there is going to be community, and they are going to like it. At the very least us lowly eels are going to be united so that we can bear the big'uns better. I was thinking that we could organize some kind of party. Maybe a dare of everyone going to the surface. I definitely have to get the kitchen on board. We can't have a party without good food, and I'm not serving the algae I gather. Or if that's too big we could go up to the surface on your off shift. What do you think?" Giving her an exaggerated innocent look and a barely concealed smirk, he began to negotiate. "If you don't, I'm going to do something big enough where they'll kick me out, and then you'll be allllllll alone. So pleeeease come with me, or help me organize something. I'm sure you have more clout than I do. Puhlease?" |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Orla had been in the guard’s barracks since the first day she could remember, but it had felt strange coming back. She recognized the rocky outcropping where she had carved her initials, though the initials were all but faded away. She saw people she knew from years ago, older and more mature. She even recognized the place she’d used to sleep, even though it had been cleared away since a patch of stinging seaweed had cropped up and had to be destroyed. The hustle and bustle was the only way to live, in her opinion: people were one of the very best things to exist in this great big sea. And shrimp. People to interact with, shrimp to eat, specifically. Orla had met a lot of odd, outrageous, and odious people in her time, but the formality of the guard’s barracks lent itself to a certain blandness that Orla didn’t really have the willpower to break through. At least she had a friend, and a few old acquaintances, and something to do. As Orla remembered, the patrols were frequent and generally nothing came of them, so Orla had brought flip limpets with her so she could play jouer, either by herself or with any fellow soldiers who were willing to play. The dullness had started to make her skin itch, an unending buzz that she was trying to ignore for now. Hey, family legacies over personal happiness, right? Besides, Aenon was here, so who was Orla to complain? One friend amidst a lot of people with zero sense of humor was worth more than two sunken galleons full of gold. Orla had gone farther than a lot of people dreamed of going, but she’d found out that friends were scarce no matter where you went. She was going to cling to this one until she drove him crazy and he got fed up with her. Twiddling with her coral, which had been carved into something like a five-pronged dagger, Orla examined the limpets laid out in front of her. Across from her was Merle, the extremely skinny, serious, and uptight guard she had been paired with for this patrol. He looked rather nervous around her, which was no small wonder, since just yesterday he’d kindly tried to make conversation by asking her about her parents and she’d told him her father was a wild shark wrangler who’d killed five men at once with a spear through their chests. Merle seemed to believe her, and Orla was too amused by the look on his face to tell him she’d made it up. It added a little spice to her life, talking to people like this who took everything she said seriously. She waited a moment longer, pretending to think even though she already knew what her move was going to be, and then finally flipped over a limpet shell and leaned back, giving Merle a very smug look. He looked at the board for a moment, and then let out a sigh and leaned back as well. “Looks like you won again, Orla,” he said, not sounding the least bit upset. “Yep,” said Orla, surveying the limpets. “Well, do it again?” They were lucky to have a route today that led them outside of the busy part of the kingdom, which meant there were less people who could call them out for slacking off. It had taken Orla a good part of an hour just to convince Merle to stop and play, and if they got caught she could be sure he wouldn’t want to do it again. Orla knew she was lucky to be getting away with this today - she didn’t know how long she could keep doing it. “Our shift’s almost over,” said Merle, rising. “Maybe we should do some actual work.” Orla raised her eyebrow at him, but rose as well. “Actual work? Never even occurred to me. See, this is why I keep you around, Merle. You’re my ideas man.” Her voice was dry and deadpan, as always. She tucked her coral back into her kombu sheath. “Come on, then, let’s see what we can do about all those wild, dangerous criminals roaming around here.” Orla pulled her hair back out of her face as it drifted in front, and Merle gave her an odd look before moving forward, hand on his coral as though they might be attacked at any moment. Orla drifted aimlessly after him, in no apparent hurry to be anywhere. Fortunately, they didn’t have to patrol so long before another guard - Melanie, was it? - swam over and told them she’d come to relieve them. They headed back into the heart of the kingdom, and Orla drew ahead as she made her way towards the dining hall, but Merle tugged at her arm. Orla gave him a smile and rolled her eyes as they swam back to the barracks. The morning wave of guards was coming in, staggered so that the second wave could replace them without a lapse in security. General Kelcey glowered at them with dark eyes - not a particular mood, but rather a general expression. They had to wait to be dismissed, in large groups so they wouldn’t flood the dining hall. Everything here was run smoother than a dolphin’s skin, everyone accounted for and with very little room for leisure. “Orla.” General Kelcey checked the list. “Merle. You two can go ahead.” “Aye, aye, mi capitan,” said Orla, just respectfully enough that General Kelcey didn’t look up from the list. Orla grinned at Merle and moved towards the group that was headed to the dining hall. They made their way together, chattering and discussing their patrols. As soon as they reached the hall, Orla put on a burst of speed and nearly ran into a very small blue tang merman. She spotted Aenon immediately, waving for her to come over. She wasted a moment pretending not to notice him and searching around, and then swam over and gave him a wry smile. The minute she came over, he was on about his day, and she leaned forward, curled her tail back under the bench, and let him go on and on. She didn’t say a word, waiting for his steam to run down so that she could respond. She noticed a few people looking over at them due to how loudly Aenon had been talking. Taking advantage of this, Orla said equally loudly, “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Certain that she had sufficiently confused the people around them, she lowered her voice so that only he could hear it. “Well, well, well, Aenon Bartholomew Christabella Orwell. What a surprise to see you here.” Looking at his plate of food and realizing she hadn’t gotten her own, she started picking off his plate. “Your boss yells at you one time and you’re ready to take down the whole kingdom, huh? I am definitely digging the surface party, but hear me out: what if we form a cult, destroy the kingdom and banish the royalty, then demolish the palace and build a dystopian evil castle where we rule as evil dictators? Or benevolent, your choice, really.” Orla smiled. “Or if that’s too big we could go up to the surface on my off shift, eh?” Orla picked a sort of fruit-looking thing off of Aenon’s plate and gave it a doubtful look. “I wouldn’t say I have ‘clout’ so much as ‘there are a lot of people I pissed off here when I was a kid,’ but I can give it a try. Only thing I don’t have is friends - amazingly, I mean, who wouldn’t love me? - so I hope you’ve made some buddies in half a day or our party idea is toast. Though I suppose the best way to meet friends is to have a rave and break ancient tradition with them.” |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
When Orla was close enough that he was sure she could see, he rolled his eyes. She had ignored him, so everyone in the dining hall turned and noticed him waving his arms like an anemone in a strong current. "Hahaha very funny. I hope you're happy. I know I looked like a jellyfish brain trying to get your attention. I think everyone entering the dining hall, especially the guards, were nervous or annoyed that I might be waving at them to come over. I guess they could just be wanting a quiet meal by themselves, and I look like trouble, but..." He clasped his hand to his heart, "it just hurts my heart that they weren't doing flips to eat with me. I've noticed that guards are notorious for being the most boring to hang out with. So formal. Yech!" he shook his head and his lip curled. "Which brain dull guards were you paired with? Also, who was the electric eel of a merman that entered the dining hall with you? I could feel his vibes from here." His face wrinkled and he mimicked a fish rolling onto its back in death. "Not that I would know who they are, but I will probably learn...eventually. They aren't going to rub off on you are they?" Aenon snickered, when he remembered the other thing he wanted to mention. While he was waiting for Orla, he had kept his eyes glued on the entrance, as he was not expecting her to enter from a different direction, so he did not miss her colliding with the small Blue Tang merman. He began to get in her face with a sing-song voice, "Awww! So sweet of you to be excited to see me. I saw you speed up and keel over that little merman." The little merman was close enough to overhear, so he glared at Aenon. After he brought her up to date on his day, she grabbed his attention as well as anyone else in the vicinity with her loud announcement. He stared at her blinking extra. At first his brow furrowed as he glanced around and noticed similar expressions before he realized that this was Orla's sense of humor at play here. While he didn't have Orla's sense of humor, he could understand the humor in her jokes, and he knew when she was trying to be funny. Often, she didn't make him laugh, but he got a kick out of bewildering observers with her help. It was one of those activities you didn't do alone. "You would dare interrupt me?" his voice was incredulous, and his brows were raised toward the sky. "I'll have you know, the therapist told me that it is bad to be interrupted! Repeated interruptions could be detrimental to my self esteem, and then I'll have to pay my therapist more money, and then I'll be a fish in a shark's mouth. He crossed his arms and leaned back, his head slightly tilted up. "Define know. You sat down by me when I waved, so you are paying the obvious consequences to that decision. Sorry if you didn't know how far they extend, but I didn't force you to come over here." Giving a cheerful grin, he nodded his head curtly at least once. "Thanks for listening. I needed to get that out of my system." When she addressed him with a full long name, he chuckled, "Nice names. I've not heard of them before, especially Christabella." His voice became higher and indignant. "What's the surprise? I'm going to eat eventually." His brows raised upwards toward the sky, as she started picking at his food. "Hey! Hey! Hey!" he was loud and protesting. After they had already drawn people's attention a few times, less turned to see what he was fussing about this time. "Girl! I might have wanted that specific piece specifically. What made you think you were allowed to eat my food?" He pushed his plate slightly towards her, making it easier to access. "You know I'm kidding. I love to feed you. If you want, I can pick out the choicest bits for my princess." He made sure to make his voice as scathing and obviously sarcastic as possible, although, if she requested it, he would pick out the best bits for her. He shook his head disapprovingly. "Do I have to be the greedy one and get seconds so that you can have some food as well? The kitchen staff are going to blame me if I develop a gut. You'll be training, so I doubt that'll be a problem for you." In a much softer voice, he added, "I think that kitchen help are the most gossipy and short tempered, while the servant staff like myself are probably the most mean and judgemental?” Relaxing his position while chuckling, he tilted his head. "You know me. 'Go big or go home.' Obviously, the clear choice of action is conquering the kingdom. It's the only way to get respect from bullies like that. Anything lower and you can never be high enough in the hierarchy to demand respect." He shrugged nonchalantly. "You know I'm not one to exaggerate or be dramatic in the least. I am being completely pragmatic and realistic about what needs to happen. However, a surface party might be a nice thing to do in the meantime. Just until we organize the rebellion and don't have time for anything else. You'll have to be the general, being a talented guard and all, and I'll have to lobby for support with my natural charisma. I do think I'm a natural at wheedling people to do what I want them to." He flashed her a sunny grin. In response to her suggesting the cult, he leaned in toward her and put his hand on her shoulder. Solemnly, he said, "This is why you are my friend." He leaned back and began gesturing wildly with his hands. His voice became louder and more animated once more, "You build on my excellent ideas. They are flawless, yet you find a way to expand and improve them. The cult will give us the supportive base. We need that popularity factor, so it will discourage those who are against us. I agree! We need to demolish this castle, and we'll definitely want a new one. Not only do we want to live in comfort, but can you imagine what gossipy former servants of here would say? 'this is where his highness Orwell harvested algae.' That would be a disgraceful reminder of our lowly origins. Besides, a coral palace doesn't have the right aesthetic for roguish rebels." After a little thought, he sighed, "MmmHMMmm. Maybe we shouldn't be benevolent or evil, but I definitely want to be inconveniencing and annoying dictators whose whims change on a scale. Otherwise, what's the fun in a rebellion, when you are enjoying the spoils! It's good to be a pain. They expect that. However, we can't be awful dangerous torturers, that people find worth replacing. War is a nasty thing, so the suffering we inflict can't be worse than that. There have been so many governments that survive because they are inconveniencing instead of cruel." He raised his hands defensively, and his eyes widened, "You want to settle for just seeing the surface during your shift off? But! We made so many plans! We are definitely going to the surface, but I wouldn't mind hiding our big plan in a clam. We do need to make a strategy. Anyway, what are we going to do when we go to the surface? Body surf? Sometimes, I like to see what shapes I see in the clouds, but it normally hurts my eyes pretty quickly." "Thank you for meeting me in the dining hall. I'd also like to know how long we have to hang out until we have to part ways. When is your next shift, or is this only a meal break? I suppose it would be stupid for you to give me my schedule, because then it might get out and someone could get through the convoluted system, but I need to have the countdown for when I can see you again." He laughed louder than last time. "I guess you wouldn't call your influence clout. But c'mon! You know their weaknesses, and they know what you are capable of. Compared to a newbie lowly sla...servant, surely a big tough guard would get more respect around here. Newbies are never given respect. At least you have seniority. All I do is clean stuff, so I'm associated with being dirty. You have a nice tall shiny clean pointy weapon that'll at least get people to pay attention even if they won't want to do what you want." He rubbed a hand over his face. "We may need to resort to my people skills.” Shrugging his shoulders, he frowned, “I have no idea why you don’t have more friends. Everyone should be clamoring for your attention. Will you need a brave servant farmer to watch your back? I could always drag you around and force introductions on people.” Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he began to speak, “The party idea is the first step to a cult. I make friends fairly easily….I think. At least easily enough where they’ll join us for a party if it’s fun, and they won’t get in trouble. I just need an opportunity to invite people when my boss Mr. Pufferfish isn’t standing over me. Once they join us, I’m sure we’ll have unbreakable bonds. Suffering together and breaking rules does that.” He nodded knowingly. “Or I could dig up some dirt on anyone I was interested in inviting, so that they have no choice.” He began to notice that everyone who had to swim by their table would give it a wide berth, swim faster, and not make eye contact. “I’m not tarnishing your reputation hanging out with you in public, am I?” His mouth was twisted in a smirk, but his brows were furrowed. “Mum says that I can take over people’s time. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of you causing people to roll onto their backs full of mirth and humor.” His smirk softened into a more teasing grin, because he was inferring that her humor killed people. “I need to figure out what I can feed people at my future party. It needs to be tasty, but not hard to make in bulk just in case we get a large gathering. I suppose I had better learn everyone’s name that I invite to the party, so we have some time before it’s going to go down. My friends shall be your friends, which just means that we’ll hang out, eat, and be loud together. Soooo. What were you thinking about sneaking up to the surface? Is there a particular place you want to go? I’ve heard that the nobles are more likely to permit the more humanoid Merfolk to make visits, but I do not fall under that category.” Absent-mindedly, he stroked one of his lionfish spine heirs. His gaze finally fell on his plate, and he realized there were only large crumbs left. Rising up, he grabbed the plate. “I’ll be right back. You stay here. I expect new ideas by the time I return.” Swimming up to the buffet line he cordially chatted up a young Angel fish mermaid. “You look amazing today. I know that you’ve been working so hard. I think your boss should give you a break. I would be an absolute mess at this point, yet you look so put together. What did you do with your fins? Think I could pull that off?” After her surprise wore off, she was willing to chat with him. Rapidly, he deduced that those she normally were around didn’t give unnecessary compliments. Once he had made a good first impression and had her sympathy, he moved on to stage two. His voice became softer and concerned. “My friend and I have limited time together. We just had the time to meet up, and she forgot to get in line for food, because she was so excited to see me. We did share the plate I had, but I think she is still hungry. She didn’t want to be an inconvenience, but I insisted it was necessary for her good health. Would you be a dear….angel and get me a plate of food for her?” Raising the plate high, he returned to the table with a triumphant grin. “Voila! Here you go.” Setting down the plate, he began to stuff food into some of his storage spaces on his person. “I always wanted to attract a dolphin.” He raised the food so she could easily see it. “And I figured that I needed to begin storing up some tasty dolphin food before I’m too much older.” He waved a piece of food around, as he tried to open a discussion about what they had learned. “The girl was nice and very easy to talk to. As long as she was certain that she wouldn’t get into trouble and had the evening off, I bet she’d join a party. She needs some fun in her life. Think any of those guards would come to a party, or would that be weird for everyone involved?” After sitting there for thirty seconds in silence, he groaned. “Come on!” He dragged the words out. “I want to go do something fun, and this feels like it is taking forever. While I am waiting for you to finish, mind telling me your ideas you should now have about what we are going to do in our free time? I know! When you are done, we can force our company on random guards. I'll introduce you, who they already know, so they'll be confused!” |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Orla wasn’t the kind to laugh at anything - in fact, when she wasn’t around Aenon or a select few others, she wasn’t even the kind to smile at anything. But she simply smirked as Aenon kept talking, a million miles an hour like his words were trying to keep up with his brain. As he asked who she had been paired up with, she snorted. “If you think it’s bad being paired up with them, imagine my brain-dull childhood. Their idea of adventure was bringing up politics at dinner. Living the dangerous life, huh?” She pointed back at Merle with her thumb. “Ol’ bad vibrations over there is Merle the Pearl. Thus named because he’s shiny and is highly irritated by sand. I told him my dad was a shark wrangler and murderer, and he’s been acting sort of strange since. Can’t figure out what’s wrong with the poor guy - I guess he’s just intimidated by my jouer talents.” She glanced at Merle, who was floating about aimlessly looking for a place to sit. “You know, I’m starting to feel a little ennui settling on me already. I might have to go join the guards at their table and discuss patrol duty. The brainwashing is taking effect.” As Aenon kept talking, Orla spared the small Blue Tang merman an amused glance. Though, of course, she didn’t laugh, her smirk grew into a grin. As Aenon protested her eating his food, she gave him an innocent look and picked another piece of seaweed off of his plate. “This piece specifically?” she asked, slurping it up. As soon as Aenon pushed the plate closer to her, she leaned back and stopped pickling off of his plate. “You may keep your choice bits, court jester,” she said in a faux-imperious voice, waving his plate away. As usual, it was hard to tell with Orla whether she really felt bad about eating his food or was just done eating. After a few minutes she resumed, though, as if she had completely forgotten that she’d stopped in the first place. She pulled her hair back again as it started to drift in front of her face. People started to stare as Aenon went into a spiel about the amazing revolution they would start. Within a few days - or weeks - people would probably learn to ignore them. For now, though, they’d have to hope they didn’t get told off by their bosses. “What’s this I hear about a coup? I hope you realize our kingdom demands absolute loyalty? You’re lucky I don’t report you - if your job is important to you, you’ll accept your position and move on.” That might be hysterical, but Orla was hoping to keep her job for more than a day. Orla raised her eyebrows at Aenon as he protested her only wanting to see the surface. Of course, it was almost a certainty that in the end they would decide on something huge and potentially catastrophic - that was the only way to live, right? “Blackmail is definitely the best option, but it takes too long. You might explode with excitement if we don’t have this party soon.” said Orla dryly. “You’re definitely better than me at tricking people into being your friends. Just look at me. But I’m prettier than you, so maybe you can do the introductions and I’ll stand there looking good. That’s pretty much my main talent besides limpets.” She looked around. “And I wouldn’t worry about my reputation. I think I lost it somewhere along the East Current. Now all I have left is my charm and tall shiny weapon. And my killer sense of humor, of course.” If Aenon was actually worried about people thinking badly of him, she definitely wouldn’t have noticed it. Orla never seemed to take anything seriously, though it wasn’t as though the two had ever really had much to be serious about. As Aenon left to get more food, Orla quirked her lips, looking very much as though she were thinking of new ideas, though that may have just been for Aenon’s benefit. She was distracted momentarily by a large sturgeon merman, who stopped for a quick word with her. As soon as she looked back, she saw Aenon chatting with the angel fish mermaid. Though she was too far to hear his words, she hardly needed to to be able to tell the nature of what they were saying. She waited patiently with her tail curled about the coral bench, looking around at other people for a little too long until they moved away uncomfortably. There were a few merpeople who seemed to know Orla from the old days and didn’t seem to mind talking to her. Most of these, of course, weren’t guards, but even a guard or two stopped for a word with her. It was only four or five people, but by the time she was done talking with them, Aenon was coming back with a plate of food. Orla immediately started picking off of it again, listening as Aenon told her about his dolphin-related desires and the girl he’d been talking to. “That was a pretty smooth way of getting food,” Orla remarked. “You two getting married soon?” She smirked, not expecting him to answer that. “Great, one friend down. I think it would definitely be weird for everyone if the guards showed up, so how about we invite them and watch everyone squirm?” As Aenon squirmed about with anticipation, Orla nodded along with his suggestion. “That’s right. I’ll tell you all about them, you introduce them, and we swim away in a swathe of confusion. Or, better yet, we invite them to the party, and they’re so confused that they say yes. If we want to invite other people, we introduce each other by different names each time and watch the party pandemonium. Plus then it’ll be harder to get into trouble. Especially if we introduce each other by other people’s names.” |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
“Yeah. You are right. You were quite the piece of work. It took a while to teach you how to have fun and not be so brain dead. Luckily, I got to you while you were still young enough to change.” He put his hands on his face, his eyes wide, “What are you talking about? If you disagree about politics, it can get violent and awkward really quickly. At the very least it can cause indigestion. While it might not be adventurous, it is definitely bold and daring. I could admire the chaos that it can cause.” He chuckled at the nickname and the description of Merle’s brainlessness. “Probably. Because I got you to loosen up. Maybe you should invite him to sit with us. He looks like he has less friends than us, and he’s been here longer. He really must be a bore, if that’s the case.” He shook his head at her. “Uh oh. That was quicker than I had expected.” With everyone staring, he relished it and basked in the attention. They would soon learn that this was his normal, and soon ignore him. Until then, they might report him, and who knows what would happen. He was on a break, so he hoped that they would mind their own business although it might be fun to watch his pufferfish boss blow up, trying to appear bigger than he was. If someone believed him, Aenon stabbing them with one of his poison spines wouldn’t be a good start, however, that would be his defensive maneuver. “They don’t really care unless it’s a time of war, or you are near their palace.” He shrugged before rolling his eyes. “Yes. I know I am, but they’ll probably think I’m some backwater bumpkin zealot who was taught wrong, and not take me seriously. That’s what I’m banking on, but I think they’ll be much more concerned with an important guard like you listening to someone like me.” He began to wave his hands for emphasis. “Can you believe it? Grandma thought that me coming to work here was a sign that I was finally going to become mature, swallow some ambition, and start climbing the food chain.” “Then I would be like the exploding pufferfish boss.” He forgot that he hadn’t mentioned that thought out loud. “That hurts me.” He held his chest as if he had been stabbed and began to fall over some for additional effect. “But at least you admit my strengths.” He rightened himself. “I’ll start talking so fast, they won’t be able to escape us once I make introductions.” His eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth upturned slightly. “Yeah,” his tone was skeptical, “Those are the attributes you have.” Exaggeratedly, he nodded. “Definitely agree on the pointed weapon.” After he told her about his dolphin dreams, he immediately began to complain. “I am hurt. Injured. Devastated. ” He tried to make his lip quiver. “I saw the way you let yourself get distracted and talk to people. Even more so, is that they waited for me to leave before they decided to approach you. How rude! Everyone should introduce themselves instead of slinking behind my back. You were supposed to be plotting.” Orla quickly changed the topic, and Aenon didn’t fight it. He started to smile and bow at the compliment. Hearing the second part, he put his hands on his hips, and he shook his head woefully. “The things I do to provide food for us, and you sit there and prod at me. Maybe I’ll take it back to her, and tell her that you preferred not eating. You’re on a fast for training and no one is supposed to feed you.” It was one of his talents to get people to believe his lies. He was fairly certain he could convince her. Easily distracted by party talk, he made another turn in the conversation. "Ooooh. That would be quite the idea except they would see us together in the dining hall and everyone would crowd us and call us by a different name. We'd be limpets on a hard surface. The colony of gulls would eat us alive. But we don't live any other way, so that must be put on our list. I always wanted people to call me Jeremiah Geller for a day, or maybe Sanderson Fryer, or Caspian. I like the name Caspian, and I need a really awesome last name. Maybe I should go as Merle Flobbersby. Wait. If they already now you, you might have to go in disguse, or use your own name. Because we don't want them to know that I'm lying about my own name." His head turned as he saw a bright orange swim by. A weedy clownfish merman. "I'm going to start with him." He dragged Orla with him, which wasn't too hard, because he took her by surprise. “Go on. Tell him!” He elbowed her. “Sorry, hello. I am Caspian, and your name is? You might know my friend here." He patted her arm with the hand that wasn't gripping onto her wrist. He wasn't sure if she wanted to introduce herself as her name or not. "She has a few questions she would like to ask you, but it looks like she has gone shy.” He smirked at her before straightening his face. As they followed him, he sat down with his other servant friends. When Aenon turned to talk to the clownfish man again, he began to ask a question. “What do you do for fun in a group, and what do you think is the best way to bond?” He hissed in her ear, "This will help us know what type of party to plan." He began to smile politely as the clownfish merman's group blinked at him in surprise. He could tell that there would be a lot of discussing of "Caspian" once he had left. The clownfish mustered up a few words. "My name is Wit. This is Simon, George, and Carla. What do you think guys?" Carla's tone was total deadpan, "We prefer to eat together. Alone." She stared deep into Aenon's eyes, so he would be sure to get the hint. "Aren't too friendly, are you Carla? Anyone else have different suggestions for fun around here?" He glared at Carla refusing to be intimidated. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Orla gave a blank look as he mentioned brain-deadness, her eyes out of focus and his jaw slack, then stuck out her tongue and smiled. She raised an eyebrow at him as he talked about the immense dangers of politics, and when he laughed at Merle the Pearl, she gave him a smug little look. “I think I may be the only one who knows he exists. I think it has less to do with his boringness and more to do with the fact that he looks like a stick with squirrel fish eyes. But, you know, since I am brainwashed, maybe I can overlook that fact. Not everyone can have eyes as perfectly beautiful as yours. I guess I’m just spoiled in the eye department.” Orla glanced at Merle, who was indeed sitting by himself, but made no move to actually get up and talk to him. She was pretty sure they could convince him to do pretty much anything if they wanted to - after all, she had convinced him to play limpets with her when he was supposed to be on duty. But would it derail Aenon and Orla’s lovely little conversation to have Merle sitting next to them in awkward silence? Nothing like a six-foot-tall bug-eyed guard staring you down to ruin a chat. Besides, poor little Merle the Squirrel-Fish didn’t want to be in the middle of everyone staring at them like they had just risen from the depths covered in depths-slime. “Backwater bumpkin zealot?” repeated Orla, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “Backwater, sure. Bumpkin, yeah. But zealot? I’m ninety-eight percent sure they won’t think that. Pretty sure backwater bumpkin is the worst it will get. Good thing you’ve got a frontwater genius here to give you a boost, little buddy. I guess they do listen to guards more - especially ones holding pointy weapons. You can talk, and I’ll hit my coral dagger against the palm of my hand behind you. Pretty sure they’ll listen attentively then. Nobody will decline being friends with a guy who has a personal bodyguard.” Orla let out a little scoff when Aenon mentioned the concept of being mature and responsible. She’d met too many mature and responsible people to even imagine Aenon being someone like that. That would ruin the whole concept of their friendship. “That was a close one, huh? Imagine being mature and ambitious. Bad enough with just me being brainwashed. Between your grandma and the guards, we’ll have our work cut out for us. Remaining unmotivated and immature is difficult stuff.” When Aenon came back from getting the food, he expressed his immense offense at the others waiting until he left to talk to Orla. Orla might have said something to him about it - like that she and the others were making fun of him behind his back. But she was already gearing up to poke fun at him over the angelfish mermaid, so she just gave him a wry look and moved on. Sometimes not saying something made people squirm just as much as saying something weird. Aenon’s reaction was exactly what Orla would have hoped for, and she gave him a snarky little smile. Of course, she had already mentioned the party, and Aenon was immediately distracted. Parties were one of the most important things in the world. Without parties, how could partying be done? How could life be party-ful and full of parties? The answer of course, was that there could be no partying, and life would be dull and party-less. “Live life full of peril or don’t live at all,” Orla told Aenon. “The best part is that you can be all of those names. And there are plenty of people I don’t know.” Aenon had already spotted someone, and Orla didn’t even have time to be surprised before he yanked her by her arm over to a little clownfish merman. Orla pulled back for a moment to stuff a piece of seaweed into her mouth, then let him drag her over. As Aenon introduced himself, Orla looked at the merman with a totally serious face. She didn’t bother to introduce herself, simply giving him a large smile. Aenon stated that she was shy and Orla immediately untucked her hair, shrinking back with her shoulders hunched up. She moved behind Aenon slightly, looking as shy as she possibly could. She peeked over his shoulders and flicked him in the back of the head as he approached the group, keeping a straight face. He whispered to her and she whispered back, “I never thought I’d be doing field research today.” The clownfish mermaid introduced himself as Wit and Orla raised her eyebrows. “I bet you’re a pretty funny guy, huh, Wit?” she asked in a totally serious tone, her voice low to further the image of shyness. At Carla’s rather undiplomatic statement, Aenon responded without hesitation. Orla looked around the table as though looking for something and said to Carla in a confused tone, “But we are alone.” She smiled nicely. “Together.” Drifting out from behind Aenon, she wedged herself between Simon and George, giving them an innocent look. “Uh,” said Simon, who looked as though he weren’t exactly sure how to interact with them. It seemed that they had been having an unrelated conversation before Orla and Aenon awkwardly inserted themselves. “Uh,” said Wit, who perhaps was trying to figure out a way to nicely smooth out things between Carla and “Caspian.” She didn’t seem pleased at all that “Caspian” had stuck around. “Uh,” said George, who seemed to be torn between being polite and returning to his plate of delicious, delicious food. “I suppose you could play limpets,” said Simon after a moment, shrugging. Orla let out a cough to cover up a scoff. “There’s always the geysers, though they’re sort of far away,” Wit offered up. “I want to hear what Carla has to suggest,” said Orla, still wearing her doe-eyed face. She might have been pushing it a little, but hey, if Carla had a soft heart inside that hard clam shell, it wasn’t going to be broken with a light poke. You had to use a big heavy rock. Metaphorically. And throw it at the shell. The metaphorical shell. That was what Orla was doing. The two options here, as she saw it, was that it worked or the rock bounced off and hit her in the head, causing brain damage that debilitated her for life. “I bet you know a lot of fun stuff to do, don’t you, Carla?” The big rock was lifting. And, to be honest, this metaphor wasn’t really working for Orla anymore. |
|
|
Winter 
Day Weather: 
