IПVIƧIBLΣ

“Do you…ever think it’s kinda weird?” Tentatively did the inquiry arise at first, blue eyes affixed to the point the subjects of his attentions lingered on a low perch. There he appeared perfectly at peace to watch the day to day goings-on with menial interference. However, it was in Norman’s nature to know that not all things were exactly as they appeared.

And, admittedly, voicing this to someone of the plane over (or so it would seem) was considerably easier than any attempt made of equal effort upon the living.

“That– that they can see you, I mean…?”

You follow the boy for some way, observing him quietly. He kinda reminds you of John, but without the wide-eyed doofy quality your bro possesses. You kind of nod at his attire when you get the chance.

“What would you say if I said...maybe I am one?” This retort Jack places playfully at first, the glance slung back at his company momentarily returned to the route ahead as he traced a route towards the local pet shop. “Or something like that anyways.” Stories like that were a bit bigger on happy endings if he was being frank-- something he didn’t yet consider before this current stranger.

However, Anna had never been the typical princess and the thrill of actually being able to run about on the beach had simply been too much to pass up. So, in a rather old-fashioned bathing suit, the teen jumped right into the ocean before her, enjoying the cool water in contrast to the hot sun… Until she suddenly got knocked over by a wave.

     ❝ Ugh–!! ❞ an exclamation is given as she attempts to pick herself up on the beach’s shoreline, a piece of seaweed blocking her sight… That is, until a stranger comes along and plucks it off of her head. Looking up at the male for a moment, the girl seems a little stunned and opens her mouth to speak… Until yet another wave comes crashing back onto the duo.

Oh dear.

“Hey, I’m not complaining!” The spirit chips in as he begins to wring dark sleeves of amassed sea water. True though it was that a hoodie simply wasn’t practical in weather such as this, a constant coating of frost continues to cleave to the aforementioned fabric in spite of the heat.

“No, no, I’m really feeling it. I’m...not gonna make it.” The winter spirit insists, doing his best to deny the corner of his lips the slight upturn that would throw his whole scheme out of whack. “If only there was some way... Like a freezer, or a--” A slight squint out of the corner of his eye gives him the saving grace he’s looking for. But this time when he speaks, a smile he can’t help but project teasingly along with the suggestion.

     The current situation took precedence, utilising what limited coin and paper this world seemed to favour for trade to reconstruct his dragon’s missing tail fin. He was back to his roots, scrounging for what he could afford and find. It was that first, saddle and all its accompanying bits and pieces later. First, that Night Fury needed to get off the ground.

                     ❛A downed dragon is a dead dragon,❜                                                                             Gobber would always say.

     Here, the same rules applied, even moreso than ever before. Now if only he could find that thing—-

     There he was, concentrating, when a voice decides to wander along and break focus. Settling back onto his knees, he tilted his head back, noting first the face– then that lost tool of his. The young chieftain rose, brushing off his thighs.

“Sounds like one hell of a project.” The winter spirit comments, willing to play along with the other’s playful banter for the time being. It was a lot more fun playing twenty questions anyhow if he was being honest. “Y’know...I’ve seen plenty of science fair projects-- volcanoes, the old diet pepsi and mentos mix, potato batteries, but this probably takes the cake.” Here Jack rises, stepping with relative ease straight from his high-hanging branch the length to the ground without batting an eyelash.

“You some kinda engineer?” The spirit now questions, lowering himself to a crouch at Hiccup’s former level as he regards the fin in-progress. “Most people, when they want to fly, they think about buying a plane ticket, or renting a glider.” Jack now ventures to surmise from the build, although not yet fully understanding how the device could be applicable to any human host.

Due to the frequent cloudy skies and mild temperatures of San Fransokyo, the only thing this type of weather left Tadashi with was sleepy eyes and frequent yawns. As a result, the most likely occurred: a nap on the beach while tanning. He should have known from the start that leaving himself vulnerable to Jack’s shenanigans was a horrible, horrible idea.

And so, once his vision began to return to him, all his other senses started to rush back. The faded jingle from his phone became a full blast of his ringtone, and the figure above his head made itself – himself – clear. The realization of how absolutely broiling the temperature was returned as well, unfortunately.

The eldest Hamada blinked, squinting as Jack’s face came into view. “Am I?” he returned, half sleepily, half sarcastically. He tried to move his arms, but to his surprise, they seemed to weigh the equivalent of an elephant. “…Dude, what did you do…?”

This time, he attempted to sit up, but the weight of whatever-that-was-pushing-down-on-him returned. Instead, Tadashi lifted his head to see what was piled on is body and –

“You can move, man. Don’t worry; this masterpiece will always live on. I sent you a little momento too.” Jack leans down ever slightly so that Tadashi can take a look at the photograph and see his compromising position in it’s full glory-- “sand tits”, seashell bra, merman tail and all. And, before the elder Hamada can burst forth from the sand and claim the device as his own, the spirit again draws back.

“Sent one to your brother too! Man oh man, is he gonna get a kick out of this.” He teases, returning the device safely to his pocket before depositing himself with a light plop! in the sand beside Tadashi. Here he awaits the eventual scramble to freedom the brunette would have to fight against the packed sand, the makeshift staff propped beside him as Jack leans back on his own hands to take in the horizon.

“Okay, I gotta admit, that’s not a bad trick.” Jack can’t help but to remark. Yet in spite of how impressed he appears, some mischievous note dares to enter his tone once again.