#bluuxriising

Continued from:

[x]

Zora was in the area visiting a distant, distant family connection who for some reason decided one of their spots of residence on Earth would be New Orleans. And yet, the time spent with them actually convinced Zora that it was a pretty fitting spot for the always traveling entity. Z really should have given their sometimes reserved family friend a bit more credit. Especially considering they had been able to talk a number of times before.

But meanwhile, they had been eager to see Bluu if she was also willing to meet up for lunch and had taking time away to find the most oddly casual yet bizarre spot for lunch. A never-ending diner, truly taking the 24/7 concept to the furthest limits. But they loved places like this. It said a lot about them and their tendencies the choices made.

They waited for Bluu inside the diner, getting used to the dynamic and the feel of the place before their dear friend arrived. And with a bright smile they approached her for a good, warm embrace. They had missed her dearly and getting to see her and at a place outside of Fog Hollow at that was truly a special occasion.

“It’s so good to see you too Bluu.“ Zora muttered as they slipped back into their seat. They do seem a little bit apologetic for her discomfort with their choice of location.

⋞⁘♔⁘⋟     Though the water was brisk as ever, frigid to any form not acclimated to existence within it’s depths, the waves rolled and peaked as if it was boiling. The thunder resonated miles down, the rain pelting at Ravus’ hide when he surfaced--  Jaws gasped for breath, the strength of the undulating current whipping his entire body about! He had endured countless storms in his life, but nothing compared to the intensity of this one! 

Shrieks sounded, barking out to his pod, but even if they had responded, he was incapable of hearing them over the chaotic natural orchestra. Was he even near them anymore? Were they safe? Panic struck him, layering onto the convulsions of alarm he was already battling just through the attempt to not be whipped downward, deeper than he had the strength to surface again! 

How long had he been struggling? It was likely mere moments, but it felt like hours, his body growing weaker as he fought the ocean for control. The waves pummeled him, slapping against him with a force he had never felt before. Amidst it all, he felt the ‘snap’ that bore even more dread upon him, the chain links separating, following by the sudden contortion of the shift that followed! 

Arms flailed, splashing about gracelessly, wet hair stringing into his face-! 

Then the collision against his leg of-- rocks?! Hands grasping about, Ravus reached to take ahold of the slippery wet surface, the outcrop that broke the surface. If there were breaching rocks, there had to be a beach nearby... 

He remained there for the duration of the storm, the pads of his fingertips aching from holding on for such a long while. Finally, the skies started to calm, darkened into the evening. The motions of the water began to still, it’s tantrum sated for the time being. Only then did Ravus let go of the rocks. 

With what energy his body had left, he waded toward the beach, crawling upon the sand. Wherever he was, he knew it wasn’t safe. It was never safe for him to remain in his humanoid form without being aware! He was too exhausted. His amulet was gone, though. Instinctively, he raised a hand to his sternum, palm touching where the stone should be. 

There was nothing... 

Where was this place? This wasn’t Wonderland --

 Had she lost Sean, her only way back home? 

The unsuspecting travelers hadn’t been expecting the storm when they arrived through the mirror, the strong billow of wind had been carried with a down pour of rain torrential enough to fling Sean back into the mirror, and Layla into the sand just as the mirror had disappeared with Sean all in a blink of the eye.

  And Layla had heard it, the sound of a giant wave behind her, there was no time. No time to run, no time to escape as the wave started to come down on top of her ---

@bluuxriising​ asked:  💍

     The sun was what woke Sophie up. It was bright, too bright, and despite how much she scrunched her eyes closed, or how she turned to try to get it out of her face, it was too late. She was awake. She laid there, trying to get her stomach to calm down; the beginnings of hangover were taking over, her head starting to ache, nausea wanting to take over. 

     Bits and pieces of the night before played in her mind; the memory of taking shots, and more shots making her want to cringe. Shifting slightly she moved to sit up, stretching as she tried to shake the haze of alcohol off. Glancing around she found she wasn’t alone in the room--she could hear Bluu snoring lightly. There was a moment where she thought about letting her sleep but decided no, if Sophie had to wake up, she did too. 

He’s pacing the beach like a small, panicked dog watching its master drown -- not strong enough to alter the course of events, and with little he can do but watch in horror as his daughter struggles to shore.

He wonders what he would do if Bluu went under. She’s a sea goddess, and half of him is confident that she would survive the ordeal ... but the other half of him -- the half that is her father, that knows how human she can sometimes be -- is far more fearful.

He decides that if she were to go down, he would go after her. And they would both just have to hope that Jörmungandr would answer his father’s call for help in time.

But she is still alive, and even injured, she is still strong. And Loki wades out up to his waist into the roiling sea to meet her, unperturbed by her transformation -- if, perhaps, a bit surprised. He catches her as she falls and draws her out of the surf, and once they are far enough away from the grasping, greedy waves that threaten to drag them both into the deep, he collapses into the sand with Bluu still clutched in his arms. With one hand he checks her for wounds, and with the other he holds her close, grotesque tentacles notwithstanding.

He’s the Mother of Monsters, after all. And though he may not have birthed Bluu -- though she is not of his blood at all -- she remains his child as surely as any of his true-born offspring, her tentacles no more repulsive to him than Sleipnir’s extra set of legs, than Hel’s decay or Fenrir’s massive bulk. He loves them, and he loves her, and nothing in his feverish examination of Bluu’s condition would suggest otherwise.

             “ I’m here, my sweet one, ”  he murmurs, hovering a palm over her wound. It is healing quickly, but perhaps he can help expedite the process, and Loki’s hand glows warm and golden with healing fire.