* SEA WITCH.

rielle may be reckless & lack a certain amount of consideration for others but he’s not stupid. & he’s not above admitting when he’s made a mistake. which is why he’s here now. ❛    i wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. if there’s anything i can do to make this up to you please tell me. i’ll do anything.    ❜  & he means it too. there’s very little he’s not willing to offer up in exchange for having a second chance. that’s how much he values azul’s good opinion of him.

@ashngrt​  //  uh oh 

     No words are sweeter to his heart than ‘I will do anything’ — and especially when they come from someone like Rielle; ah, truly, what a dream ticket it is! A peculiar thought crosses Azul’s mind and almost worms its way in his heart, but there is always a better opportunity: after all, a certain dish is best when served cold — wouldn’t it be an utter disrespect to treat a customer with a less than perfect meal? 

     A smile tugs on his lips from a pleasant realisation, and with a usual chirping tone Azul speaks up (he did allow himself a brief moment of silence, a second or two at best — no time should be wasted): “Oh, Mr. Nerites, if only others were as ready to admit their mistakes and take accountability as you! It will be my pleasure doing business with you, and I’m quite hopeful you will do your best to make up for your actions.” Bitterness doesn’t sip in until the last word — even then, it is almost imperceptible, visible only to a trained ear; Azul takes great pride in how he presents himself, and risking letting a fish off the hook due to his raging (but personal) rancor would be unnacceptable, wouldn’t it?

     “I hope you won’t go back on your word.” There is a shift in tone, ever so slight, that gently hints that backing out of this whole ordeal would be not advisable (due to unfortunate accidents that might happen). 

    ❝  …Azul, can I ask you a question?  ❞ Voice barely a mumble, Jamil wears a troubled expression on his face. It’s not completely uncommon for him to confined in the other while in private, but he usually needs coaxing to speak about his troubles. ❝  It’s nothing bad. There’s just something only you can answer.  ❞  // @ashngrt​

          on the topic of Azul’s gender & etc. (+ a bit of Coral Sea worldbuilding) 

[to be formatted / added to later]

I switched ‘nonbinary masculine’ to ‘gender-neutral’ in his about; it’s something I’ve been thinking about doing for a month or two but never got to it. Also, ‘agender’ does not equal ‘gender-neutral’ in my understanding (a point worth mentioning since my Idia is agender).

Azul’s always been gender-neutral mainly due to the fact that most of merfolk would be considered that, or nonbinary; the gender expression or presentation varies. Up until NRC Azul has been using they/them.

The pronoun change happened due to two factors: NRC being presented as an ‘all boys’ school and Azul’s desire to run away from his past identity as a ‘trashy octopus’; changing the pronouns helps him  disconnect with his past even more.

Looks wise Azul is extremely androgynous (which, again, is quite common in merfolk), although during NRC he shows a slight distaste towards she/her used for him; later in life he’d switch to ‘mainly they/them but whatever’.

he’s gotten better at ignoring the aches and pains ― yet jamil still finds himself confined to his bed. his overblot episode had exhausted him completely, and left him with little energy to do anything, much to his chagrin. and to make matters worse, he was being cared for by /him/. eyes glance over to the side, taking in the form of the boy standing in his room, who was just chatting away. ( 1/4 )

he refused kalim’s help during his recovery, but found himself forced to accept the fact that octavinelle would be staying close by, ‘just in case’, as it was said. and jamil has been mostly silent, forced to listen to azul’s voice as he’s brought food, from dawn to dusk. but today is different. lately he finds himself suffering more often than not, in his dreams. ( 2/4 )

he isn’t stupid. he knows the cause of it all, but the problem was how they slowly leaked into the waking world. multiple hears he hears the hisses of snakes by his ears, or feels his hands are still coated with thick, dark ink. and it drives him mad. did he not deserve control over his own mind and body? perhaps it’s justice for his own trickery, and it’s why he continues to stare at the other. ( 3/4 )

anyone else would stay far away from him. so why was he still here? for the first time in two days, he speaks up. “azul.” momentarily he groans at the hoarseness of his own voice, but he quickly ignores it to keep talking. “was it the same for you?” he figures elaboration isn’t necessary – or rather, he hopes it isn’t. but knowing the aftereffects of azul’s own episode may serve as some form of comfort. ( 4/4 )

cw: drowning , panic attack , long post

     It isn’t the first time Azul has had to deal with students whispering behind his back, and it certainly won’t be the last. What was it, something about ‘Ashengrotto being sympathetic’? Most definitely not! There are no things that are done with selflessness in his mind — every single little thing is a part of the intricate web of deals; one causes another which in turn leads to the other — so for Azul this uncharacteristic change of role was nothing more than ‘giving back’ after his little stunt with a stream.

     Perhaps, it is the singular truth. Perhaps, it is not. Who could say?

     While one could debate about his true intentions for all eternity, the reality remained the same: every day, a good amount of his time Azul spent in Jamil’s room — more than an average caretaker would, but one could argue it was due to an extremely selfish interest... But, again, it is Ashengrotto, and only a few can decipher what’s going on in that head of his; fortunately (or maybe not so?) Jamil is a part of these few.

      Today went by as usual, teaching the poor students who got stuck in the college during a long awaited winter break; not that Azul complained, as the word ‘vacation’ seemed to be missing from his dictionary — even if he wasn’t stuck with another dorm on his own volition, he would still immerse himself in countless amounts of books, for such was both his nature and desire.

     However, hearing his name takes Azul aback — a bit — as his hand jerks and makes that annoying ink line where it shouldn’t be; oh, he will have to rewrite this page again... He huffs, brows furrowing, and puts down his quill as he leans back, stretching his arms, — he’s taken a liking to sitting beside Jamil’s table and studying as he watched over him just in case; after all, who knows what might happen after the overblot? 

     Jamil’s question is unexpected to say the least (might it mean the other will finally stop fussing about wanting to never deal with Azul?), but it wipes the annoyed expression off Azul’s face — and a smile (a smirk?) creeps on it, as he folds his arms on his chest and looks at Jamil.

     “Who knows?”

     A rather abrasive answer said with an expression that seems almost sinister, as if Azul enjoys seeing Jamil in such a state; perhaps, it is the annoyance at the little accident he caused seconds earlier that drives Azul to reply in such a manner — but it’s not dismissive in the slightest, instead the tone is slightly questioning.

     His gaze wanders around the room, looking every little detail over (as if he is lost in thoughts, given how his expression shifted — to one of a person who’s indulging in their memories, be they good or bad), before stopping on a certain... ‘Key item’, as Idia would put it — it’s such an inconvenient time for this to pop up in Azul’s brain, but it’s the best phrase that describes it — maybe he spent too much time with Idia so it rubbed off on him... Surely, he will have to think about it, but not now.

     “Riddle was in a similar state when I visited him.” Yet this phrase is not meant to comfort Jamil, it is but a bridge — they both know too well it is not the physical condition that Jamil is inquiring about. Because, frankly, that is apparent to most people. Azul smiles faintly before continuing:

     “So, you know, just tough it out.” 

     He remembers gasping for air desperately as he was in this cursed ocean — a mermaid, drowning? What a ridiculous notion, yet... There was no way he could stay afloat on the surface as waves raged and raged, swallowing him whole to plunge him further into depths. No sight. No sound. Only water choking him in this deadly embrace — and whenever he got to emerge, whenever he broke free from the grip, drawing air in his possibly last breath, he could not tell where he was; the body would sink under unrelenting forces, prolonging the torture.

     “—Is what most would say, don’t you agree? To them, you look fine, so there can’t be any problems.”

     Some days, there would be rocks. Some days, there would be nothing. Even when it’s being generous, even when there is a chance for salvation — his hands would slip, nails scraping the surface; his fingertips bled, cut with sharp edges of the only hope, — and in turn, it would make holding onto it, trying to, even harder and more impossible than ever, with sharp pain almost keeping him sane in this chaos.

     “But you know how ignorant people are too well. They will turn blind eye even if you don’t bother hiding it. Not that you’ll be able to fully do that.”

     He would wake up in cold sweat — chest hurt as if the weight of the whole world rested on it; it would be so hard, so difficult, so painful to breathe — he would press his hand against it after wiping the tears that streamed down his face. And in the middle of the night too, when every sound no matter how little felt so loud and obnoxious; he would get up and try to make his way to the bathroom. The legs, they would be numb and unresponsive; a sensation so similar but so different (after all, mermaids are not supposed to have legs; his happen to be rather weak), and he would sometimes slump, leaning on the wall and tearing up yet again.

     “Why do you think so many people seek to make a deal with me?” The somber tone with which he spoke seconds ago dissipates, despite his eyes glistening under the light that seeps through the windows. It’s all back to Azul’s usual demeanor. “I am a kind and merciful soul who is able to see what most can’t, and so I just have to help those poor unfortunate people... My heart aches when I see those in need.” A ‘much like you’ lingers in the air, unsaid.

❝ your bowtie is crooked. stay still. ❞ let him fix it. uvu

     “Eh, crooked?..” A hint of surprise in his voice; but Azul is quick to lean back a bit, raising a hand, — the grating ‘stay still’ pushed him to action, as even a smallest favor leads to a debt, and Azul can’t be owing any unspecified debts to someone as smart as Jamil, now can he? That would be rather unwise! “The sentiment is much appreciated, however, Mr. Viper, I am perfectly capable of fixing this mistake myself shall I find a mirror.”

     It isn’t the first time this happened, and it certainly won’t be the last for Jamil to be refused by Azul even in smallest details; the ‘why’s were apparent and said a lot of times repeatedly, yet it made being in Azul’s company certainly insufferable, and he would always wear the usual polite smile. The bowtie is not an exception to this rule — perhaps, it is mixed with unwillingness to let others in his personal space (surprisingly, Azul has no qualms about invading others’ ones shall the need arise).