#fjathoms

     sailing in the middle of the ocean could be rather eventful, but most of the time it was nothing but. the vast blueness would be all zale would see for months before he would find himself in another port town. he didn’t mind it, though, because this was his home. if he ever got bored of seeing the same thing he could just dip under the water and see what was going on there. every time it was far more interesting under the water than it was above-- the bright corals or kelp forests or schools of fish. it never ceased to amaze him how beautiful the ocean could be.

     there were some times when the ocean surface was more interesting than it was below. it wasn’t often, but it did happen. occasionally he would run into other ships, possibly islands, or little floating treasures. it always made for a fun day whenever he encountered those things.

     standing on the mini-porch of his little house boat, zale scanned the water, trying to decide what to do for the day. when he saw something floating up ahead, he thought it was possibly a gift from the ocean. he padded over to the wheel of the boat and turned to sail closer, curious as to what it was. his eyes widened, though, upon seeing a man floating on what looked like a piece of shipwreck.

     zale didn’t hesitate; he dove into the water and swam over with great speed to the half-orc, concern written all over his face. he wrapped an arm around him to bring him back to the boat, not bothering to check if he was awake or not yet. swimming back was harder with the extra weight, but he managed easily enough, hauling them both on the deck with a gasp.

     sitting beside him, zale brushed the hair away from the man’s face as well as tucking a strand of his own blue hair behind his ear.

                                      @fjathoms​ / text post memes                                     ‘ my kink is getting some fuckin sleep. ’

     zale choked a little, surprised by the outburst, cheeks flushing into a deep purple color. he swallows to compose himself, eyes glancing up from the maps he was scanning. he stared a moment, trying to figure out how exactly to reply. talking was hard when you spent most of your time in the middle of the ocean, away from any people.

          -- - QUILL WASN’T opposed to talking with the half-orc.  but as the conversation went on and.. eventually derailed, he found himself getting more and more interested in talking with him.  his blue eyes traced the edges of the pint he had been offered by the bartender.  likely a way to.. find out what he was.  despite adventurers & guards alike come waltzing in.. clad in armor.                    why was he any different?

     he watched the other cross his arms- leaning next to his empty cup.  was he drunk? ...  it wasn’t like quill could tell.    ❛ well, yes.  i suppose it’s ... human nature to change, is it not? ❜   not that the warforged would know anything about that. if fjord looks closely, he can notice that quill’s ‘mouth’ has not moved since they started talking.

    ❛ it takes a.. certain kind of person to admit they were- or are -wrong.  most hu-- people do not. ❜   reaching a hand back and under his hood, he rubs at a smoothed out hole in his wood.  he winces slightly.

RAPUNZEL ACCEPTS HIS BLOWS WITH PIOUS SILENCE. She does not move; fear is a friend she knows quite intimately, its iron-hot grip a comfortable accessory around her throat. But, for once, she is not afraid.

Not as Fjord rises like an adder before her. He bears tusks in place of fangs, words in place of venom. She is not afraid. Not when she has seen this before -- a frail woman in dark cloaks who summons equal parts grace and terror with her presence, drawing incantations from her daughter like string through a spinning wheel. Old, pathetic.

Coward. She wishes to scream it until her voice gives out. A coward for shutting her out, a coward for endlessly running her heart ragged with his ever-changing desires. A coward for using her in a way that, somehow, could still be novel. No, Rapunzel is not afraid. 

She’s angry. 

Furious. White-hot rage blinds her vision, celestial energy nearly burning her skin from within her palms’ grasp. Its heat startles her. Comforts her. When she finally speaks again, her tone loses its childish call. Rather, a finely-tempered fury simmers just beneath the surface. “This is what you do. You push people away, and you close doors, and you wonder why you end up alone. I pity you.” Luminous energy fades like a candle snuffed. She meets is gaze through a veil of fresh tears.

“I was someone’s puppet for twenty years. I was burned, and frostbitten, and locked away from a world that I was meant to believe would someday kill me. And yet I’ve somehow found more courage in me than a man who’s sailed entire oceans and slain monsters and convinced himself that he is a hero.” 

fjord is mildly jealous of their sweet cats and wonders how he got stuck with a deranged snake from his old roommate