#dinobirb

archen #566

Another reply, this time to @dreamwaffles​!

dreamwaffles 

The way I look at this is kinda dividing things into phonemes that they would/wouldn’t be able to handle, add sounds unique to them (the BLAAAART), and work out any tonal component. You probably have that front-to-back phoneme chart for the human mouth somewhere? I’ve used that, and then also considered whistling and grunting and stuff.

So, like, a crow-based language would probably not be a tonal language, and probably not have labials, but they’d probably have gutturals, so if you transliterated their words, you might get something that looked kind of….croak-like, “Gorolok kraak yaak nooouk”.  Once you know what sounds they do have, you can work up some words using those sounds.

Tonal languages are a lot harder and I admit I fudge those, partly because I don’t speak any tonal languages. I threw an alien species in a NaNoWriMo a few years ago with a musical language, that mostly only had a few, like. Dividing consonants between tones and trilled Rs, so all names from that species were things like Deedee-urrrrr and Maaduu-dirrrrrrrr, once I knew which consonants were used at all. (First one’s the first three notes of Fugue in G Minor, the second is the first three of Sound of Silence.)

I think about these things a lot. F’rinstance, I have a race of….well my shorthand is Horrifying Crab People because I can’t really transliterate their language, and a human tap dancer holding a set of castanets can only sort of talk to them. (They talk with their claws/joints. It’s audible but not oral.)  So when I’m writing about them, I come up with lurid descriptions, or just straight translate if I need to know what one of them is saying. Does this help at all?

First off, I haven’t thought about that crab castanet language in forever and it brings me so much happiness! It’s such a cool effing concept and the thought of very serious diplomats going clickity click with castanets is fantastic. (maybe tap dancing would be another option? They would like Fred Astaire movies)

And yep, gutteral sounds are definitely the way to go. I am not positive that I am working 100% with crow and raven sounds as opposed to syrinxes more generally, but I do expect that those would be the most common sounds. It’s all a matter of starting with the sound inventory and working my way up to words, as you say.

THANK YOU!!

I need to stop being lazy and actually design things for this story. Like all the weird monsters that are supposed to be in the city, except I never draw them because no one designed them yet.

too shy to post anywhere yet so i'll stash it here hehe (& prolly keep editing bc god i'm seeing all the run-ons and typos now after posting) 🔅🦖 Flickering lights. Cold room. The smell of the sea sticks to your clothes as the officers closely watch your every move.

Yes, your name is Jurard and no, you're not drunk. You don’t drink. A sigh, a nod. Yes; of course you’re going to cooperate. Tell us what happened that night. You tug your jacket tighter around yourself and look at them with tired eyes. To these people it was just like any other regurgitated tragedy, you know. Tepid compared to most. But the law left no room for refusal. One minute you were staring at the edge of a bridge with the roaring waves below, wondering how long it would take to sink to the bottom… and the next thing you know you’d been picked up, ‘peacefully apprehended' and detained for questioning.

SEC. 46 This section duly acknowledges that individuals who drown may undergo posthumous reformation of the limbs and respiratory organs to adapt to an aquatic environment.

You had this 18th birthday celebration at your place… right. Yes, you remember. The ultimate golden standard in campus for getting thrashed or so the seniors claimed afterwards. Fucking ridiculous when you think back on it now. But that wasn't what made your heart soar that time, no. It was seeing Hakka walking in through those doors. Who’s Hakka? they ask, as if they didn’t already know.

“Everyone knows about the strangling, the… the cannibalism. But no one really follows the law to kill on sight, do they? Or at least that’s what dad told me. Wasn’t old enough to remember my sister or how he took her to the nearest dock.”– Student C, 22, A Documentary on the Subspecies Anthropisces Gracilis

It had been a while since you last saw him. You couldn't believe he was there. At your party! Willingly! Granted, he didn't talk to you and just stood by the pool all night but it was a start, wasn't it? All in all, it was a great party. Like an idiot you had begun tending a small flicker of hope.

SEC. 49 This newly formed species retains enough of their physical features but none of their sapience and shall be reclassified as dangerous wildlife.

When you wake up at three in the morning with a massive headache, you think not even this can dampen your mood. That is, until you find him- ex friend, secret love of your life- now swimming in your pool with unnaturally translucent skin, his baby blues swallowed by endless inky black. He smiles and beckons when he sees you but the sight of his clawed hand sends a shiver down your spine.

It's your friend… yet it's not.

Your friend had always loved belting out metal loud and free, yet this one is calling to you like a caged siren and it's the saddest song you've ever heard. It was a cacophony of incomprehensible sounds but it stole your breath just the same. Memories flash unbidden of Hakka laughing at something you said and for a while you try to catch your breath, will yourself to hold off the regret, the anger, the tears. You look at the sky and see traces of stars that were not quite engulfed by the rising sun. You knew what you had to do.

SEC. 58 In cases where it's not immediately exterminated, it must be surrendered to a state-run facility. Anyone found in violation of this clause will be punishable under Article 3541 of the same code.

After leaving a message to both of your parents you set off to the sea at god knows how early in the morning.

You're a jock, if one had to be tactless about it, and your friend is- was a sickly, adorable geek so you doubt this new incarnation of him could ever pull you into the sea by force. You wrap Hakka in wet blankets, carry him to your car all the while thinking how he fits so perfectly in your arms. And under your breath: Not like this, god no, I never wanted it like this.

It was barely past four when you caught sight of the sea.

When you lay him down on the waves, Hakka turns to you. The sadness and confusion on his face could almost be called human. He sings his sad tune again like a plea. You turn to go because merpeople are worse than dead people. No matter how much you talk to him, how much you hold him, he's cold through and through. Hakka's not coming back.

Hakka was warm. Hakka was brave.

Hakka's laugh lit up the room and he was brimming with love for everyone he met.

Hakka refused to cry. Hakka pretended not to mind when you wouldn't meet his eyes like the rest of the class.

Hakka's smile dimmed day by day and you didn’t do anything.

Hakka heard you tell a room full of other people that you didn’t know him.

Hakka just looked at you blankly while he was strapped to that hospital bed, bandages on his face, machines beeping in time to his pulse.

Hakka eventually stopped talking, singing, laughing, crying, or doing anything at all when you were in the room.

After everything that happened, it’s no wonder he avoided you like the plague. Whichever cruel hand saw your greed that night must have punished you for hoping otherwise. He... God, he hated you more than anything in the world, and this- this thing is looking at you like you're the only one that matters.

Yes, merpeople are worse than dead people. You know he's gone but your eyes are telling you he's still here even though there’s no fucking way your words will ever reach him. Now there's no way tell him what you'd been practicing and muttering under your breath all night when you saw him sitting alone by the pool (I love you, I'm sorry, Kill me, Let's go somewhere far away, just the two of us; Run away with me, Be with me, Please, Please) because you're a coward, a selfish- "Not go." You shiver at the cold autumn wind and goose pimples prickle your flesh. Merpeople don't talk. "Not go. Pl... stay?"

You look at it- no, him? It's clasping its throat, struggling; opening its mouth then closing it again ( "A koi out of water," you hear Hakka laugh in your head). It wrinkles its nose in frustration and it was so like him that you unthinkingly reach out your hand.

That’s when the creature pulls you forward with unexpected strength. You barely even had time to hold your breath before it plunged both of you into the sea.

You try to break free but it’s clinging to you like ivy while opening its gaping maw. Sharp claws glint menacingly close to your face and you squeeze your eyes shut, thinking, 'This is it. I'm gonna die. I deserve it' but the pain doesn't come. Instead, you hear familiar words so you open your eyes to see it struggling to speak in a strange, stilted melody.

"-..ppy ..rth.. day. I- miss... y... J...rd"

The way the current carried his voice through water was strange. Clear, ancient, yet unsure- it was like hearing a nervous Hakka through an old phonograph. You're crying but the sea is wrapped all around you so it carries your tears away like it was never there. Half a minute later you feel your throat burning and your vision blurs at the edges. Air. Humans need air. Of course. It didn't seem to matter now. You fight to keep your eyes open for Hakka- because it's him, it really is him - and he looks so worried that you open your mouth to tell him, 'I'm okay’, only to choke on a mouthful of salty seawater.

Fuck. You wanted to at least hear him say your name again. Why is his face so close anyway?

And then he was kissing you, pushing air into your starved lungs. He pulls you up towards the surface and drags you to the edges of the beach. Rocks scratch the palm of your hand, leaving a thin trail of blood on the sand. You cough out some sea water while desperately trying to hold on to him but with inhuman strength he pulls away. The same way you understood it was still him in there somewhere, he too has come to a realization. He looks at the sea, rubbing his dry arms that have already begun to flake. He looks back at you, bleeding and shivering, struggling to catch your breath. You're more than sure now. It really is him and… and that's heartbreak on his face.

Holding on to the last vestiges of your consciousness, you croak out, "Hakka. Hakka, please. Take me, drown me- don’t- I just - don't leave me."

He says- sings, really-

"Can't. Love you."