A rumble followed the females exhale, the spikes of her fin twitching, as if they wished to extend to further physically show her irritation. She couldn't ask her people to leave, not yet. They were too at-home here, but the Sovereign had already begun preparations for a swift retreat, should any sightings occur. Her people would not die here, bodies floating to the bottom of the trench, blood pumping from human-gifted wounds.

If it weren't for her training, Tethys likely would have jumped at the voice that neared her, instead, she lifted her head and focused an irate crimson glare on whoever had disturbed her. It faltered at the sight of her Consort, the pale man that she had chosen to lead alongside her. She lifted her head and twisted it slightly to the side in something of a nod, an acknowledgement and a silent apology for her hostility.

"No," was all she offered in response to the man asking if she'd spoken to their daughter. Naoko and Kallan, the twins, were more than a mild pair. Their older sons were kind, mostly listened well, and often made a point of being good to their parents. Naoko and Kallan seemed to thrive on disobedience, on the chaos it caused. More than once, she'd caught Naoko immensely pleased with herself, even throughout her punishment, happy to have even been able to break the rules.

A red gaze drifted across her husbands body, taking in the tense annoyance that he, too, held, and huffed something close to a laugh, but not quite reaching. "I suppose you had a run-in with Kallan, though." She said, running one of her webbed hands through her hair. Kukulcan's next question made her pause, and she gave herself a long moment to ponder. Tethys flashed her markings, almost as if they were blinking, just to show she hadn't forgotten the question when the silence stretched on.

"Our cousins," she said, voice low, tired. "I was thinking about the war they have brought. We will need to begin making preparations for a quick escape should the humans approach." All at once, the tension faded from her body, replaced by a deep exhaustion, and Tethys found herself reaching for her husband, leaning against him, almost curled around him. She lowered her voice, her face pressed into his shoulder near his ear.

"No signs of humans have been reported, but our cousins grow closer. Jubal, the Myrleon King, he requests to speak with me regularly," she paused, allowing her eyes to drift closed for an extended moment. "I am scared," she whispered, a soft admission that only her husband would ever hear. "If it comes to war, what can we do except run, and hope the humans don't follow? The whole clan will fight if we ask, every single one of them, our children included."

Tethys shifted her head so that her forehead was leaned against her Consort's shoulder, arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. "I want you with me today," she said, moving to reach for his hand, holding it in both of hers in a gentle embrace. "I will be asking to speak to Jubal today if he doesn't ask for me, and I will need the support. I am tired, my love, I don't know how long we can tolerate them so close to our home."

The Sovereign leaned away, bringing her hands up to cup her husbands jaw, gently skimming her thumb across his cheekbones. It was this position that allowed her to spot movement coming towards them, and she identified the dark shape as Tohunga, the Shaman's Apprentice. Slowly, the grey-skinned woman released her hold on her pale spouse, trailing her hands from his jaw to his neck, and then his shoulders, and running her palms gently across his arms before dropping her hands back to her sides.

Tethys listened to the apprentices words carefully, watching the body language of the young man. Tohunga was respectful, something she suspected came from the dark male himself rather than instilled too much by his mentor, but nervous in her company. This, however, proved as progress. Appearing before her, completely unnanounced and without the presence of Qazir was a step forward for the young man.

To his words, the Sovereign nodded slowly, blinking slowly in thought. "You may go," she said slowly, tilting her head, as if further in thought. "Take at least a hunter, a warrior and a trainee with you," she said, nodding to herself.

The royal family could, technically, count as either. They did basic training, just as anyone else in their clan did, and Tethys had served as a warrior and hunter in her younger years, just as her children had. Some royals chose to specialize in one or the other, but other duties often overtook that ability, and left them simply serving in both as various times demanded it.

Italicized words in quotation marks are The Voices speaking. Bold is Qazir speaking in his native tongue.

Qazir || 453 || Male || Kothes || Shaman || M: Tohunga (Ind), Open

For the old Shaman, it was one of those days. The Voices were near-pestering – constantly spewing nonsense and tips all the same – and his mood was never consistent for any longer than thirty minutes. It started out as his usual grumpiness, then went to pure annoyance for no apparent reason, then boiling anger at The Voice’s constant chatter, and finally ending on a rather rare note of happiness. Which was the state he currently resided in.

The dark-scaled male was now swimming frantically around his cave, as though he didn’t have a care in the world – looking at his various remedies and trying to figure out what exactly he should make. An unusually wide and wiry grin was plastered on his features as he moved about, humming along to a random tune that he could not remember the origins of. His eyes looked to have been dipped in a mixture of joy and insanity. They swirled in different shades of turquoise as he tried to decide on the exact mixture he would be creating.

“Make your usual, every day medication,” one of the more feminine voices hissed, “I believe you are running low on it. It would be best to remain stocked up with the danger those fiends brought to the trench.”

“But what’s the fun in that,” another, more masculine voice retorts, “Try mixing some sea lettuce in with some kelp, dried pipefish, and jellyfish tops. Would make for an interesting concoction.”

“Yeah, that does sound interestin’…,” the glowing green male puts a hand on his chin in thought and pauses for just a second before racing to grab the items.

“Don’t listen to this mumbling blobfish! You tried that mixture last week! It didn’t work,” Qazir could practically see the woman crossing her arms.

“I did? I don’t remember that,” he male instantly drops the stack of materials back on their former self.

“Bah! So what if it didn’t work the first time?! Just try again with a different combination of measurements!”

“And you expect him to remember his original measurements?”

The two voices continued their back-and-forth for quite some time, much to the displeasure of him and some of the other Voices. Electing to ignore the both of them (to the best of his abilities as he was bound to snap at them eventually), the gray haired Shaman got to work on his usual medication – being a mix of ulva, a smidge of cuttlefish bones, and a few other aquatic plants. Nothing too costly on the supplies for the most part, but it would likely deplete some of their resources.

Flapping his tail in one fluid motion, the dull colored male finds himself in front of his shelves once more (since when had he drifted back to the mixing cave?). He proceeds to scan them methodically with narrowed eyes, searching for all the ingredients he would require. He first spies what is left of his stash of ulva and snatches all of it, as well as some of the nearby components to his mixture. He takes note of the now lack of sea lettuce as he heads back to the “brewing” area… only to forget about it not a moment later. Including the task at hand.

He was forced to stop for some time, attempting to remember what exactly he was doing. The Voices had to remind him of his endeavor after he failed to recollect anything for a decent stretch of time. But, not without their constant bickering which returned back to the “make your usual” versus “something new” debate.

“Oh, shut it, would ya? I got a better thing ta do than listen ta ya lot spewing nonsense,” he snaps. The Voices went mostly still after this, with only the occasional murmur here and there of what to grab and potential ideas of what to make next.

He returns not a second later with a sharp and deep scowl to grab the rest of his supplies, snagging some dried pipefish and the rest of the herbs before going back to his mixing area. In the center of the cave was a large “bowl” of sorts. It was not very deep, but it served its purpose well. It was mainly used to hold all of the items that Qazir would be working with as he created his medications – as was the case for right now. Though, it could also be used to hold the final results of his larger projects.

The formerly annoyed expression suddenly turns to one of insanity as he stares down at his collection of items, taking glee in the prospect of working. Reaching an arm out to his side, he goes to grab his precious mortar and pestle… but finds that it was not where he believed to have last placed it.

His now insane stare instantly shifts into one of intense anger in an instant as he begins to look around the area for his precious mixer. He moves numerous medications, piles of scrap, other tools, and the like – all in the name of finding an item that he had multiple of. Strings of curses flow past his lips, and The Voice’s raise their volume to offer suggestions as to where it may be. This intense focus on the search prevents him from noticing anything happening around him, including the entrance and exit of his apprentice. However, he refuses to admit defeat and simply use another mortar and pestle after all of his searching. He was going to find it, no matter what.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Calypso ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Female - Myrleon - Princess - Mentions: Jubal, Selene

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Upon returning, she heard soft chattering coming from within where her family was staying. She recognized the voices almost immediately, curiosity rising in her chest. Cal wanted to speak with her father about the Kothes’, hoping he would allow her to go with him. The last time the two Clans approached the Kothes’ it didn’t end well, only promises of hostility. Moving closer, she began to make out the figures of Selene and her father, just missing the incident where Jubal almost collided with Selene. She didn’t stay long in the shadows before being spotted by her father.

“Good morning, father, Selene.” Calypso smiled at them as she made her way over to the two, letting her father brush back some of her hair. She appreciated the small gesture, knowing full well that her hair had quite the mind of its own and would come untucked soon. Her smile faded quickly upon hearing her father. She frowned when her father only referred to her and not them. “I’m sure you want to hear what Selene has to say,” raising her eyebrows slightly at him before turning fully to Selene, “What can we help you with?” Calypso directed the question towards Selene but emphasized the ‘we’. Cal was so focused on Selene, she almost missed her father’s next question.

Armitox Jagar | 18 | Demi-Boy | Solean

M: Fialova

Armitox had been taught to fear humans and even kill any who saw him from a very young age as a result of being in a family of hunters, so maybe it was just a bit ironic to him that he lived in an old human structure. With broken boards of wood, a rare material that only came from the surface, a gaping hole filled salt water into what used to be called a “ship.” Now, Armitox and his family just called it “home” though the medicinal hut felt more like home than the ship he lived in his whole life. When the great light above would set and the ship was only lit with his own illuminated scales, every creak or groan the wood would make as the waves subtly pulled and pushed on its rot and barnacle covered exterior made Armitox tense. Every opening in the floors or walls was splintered and looked like the jaws of a giant Kothes while it offered little protection from anyone or anything that made its way through the hull of the ship. Funnily enough, the only place in his home that offered any comfort was outside of his home.

Laying down in the seagrass, the water danced above them and beckoned the grass to sway as well. While resting their hands behind their head, their gills opened and closed as he shut his eyes, bathing in the warmth of the one area he could find some calmness.

Well until their brothers showed up of course.

“Army?”

“I think he’s ignoring us.”

“Armyyyyy!”

Veneno poked and prodded Armitox’s cheek, the toxic spikes on his back raising the lowering the longer Armitox ignored his pleas. Armitox just pretended he was asleep. Veneno grumbled in annoyance, his spikes rising before he flopped onto the ground beside Hemlock as Armitox’s other brother was braiding together long pieces of seaweed.

“He’s so annoying.”

“You’re more annoying.”

“Eat squid ink, you Kothes-head,” Veneno hissed, his luminous spots growing brighter as he folded his arms.

“Be nice to your brother, Vee,” Armitox chuckled, making Veneno instantly sit up and glare at his older sibling. “I still don’t get how the two of you are twins. How do you handle it, Hemlock?”

“It’s torturous,” Hemlock replied, laying on his stomach in the seagrass as he continued to braid long strands of seagrass. “Every day I wake up and remember I am forced to look at his ugly face.”

“We are identical twins!!”

“And I’m still better looking~” Hemlock purred, looking up at the fuming Veneno with a smirk which caused the other to get up and quickly swim back into their deserted ship. Hemlock turned and looked at Armitox before bursting into laughter. Smiling, Armitox just shook his head as Hemlock continued. “He knows it’s true!”

“Even if it is true, I need you to be nice to your brother while I’m gone,” Armitox replied, sitting up and stretching his arms out while his stingers shuttered from the movement. “That means no name calling, no insulting, no—”

“Boooo, you’re no fun!”

“Hey, I’m trying to be a good older sibling here! Listen to my words of wisdom will you?!” Armitox grabbed his satchel made of seaweed and decorative seashells and slung it over his shoulder. After reading themself, Armitox turned and looked at Hemlock with a warm, brilliant smile as they reached over and ruffled their brother’s hair. “Be good and don’t cause any trouble, you hear?”

“I’m twelve; I can take care of myself,” Hemlock huffed defensively, only causing Armitox to laugh.

“I’m sure you can,” Armitox mused before swimming off to the medicinal hut.

~~~

Swimming over and through tunnels of bright coral— vibrant yellows, vivid oranges, and stunning pinks— Armitox smiled briefly and waved to familiar faces of the Solean people. Even though the Jagar family was always compared to Kothes instead of other Solean due to most of the family being more bulky, sharp toothed, and violent compared to the average Solean, most other Soleans were incredibly kind. Amazing even. Fialova was one of them. As the healer of the Soleans, she was kind and gentle as any good healer should be. Even if her glare is the most common expression she dons, even if she could be cutthroat, and even if she was a perfectionist, she is still kind deep down in her heart. Fialova’s hut was buried within the bountiful coral yet it seemed more empty than ever when Armitox arrived. Swimming into the doorway, Armitox looked around briefly.

“Fialova?” Armitox called out, tilting his head as his spikes flattened to his skin.