#sf!pap

Sounds can be heard up a head for several tail-lengths before they actually find the room.

The noises coming from this unknown place are ones that Cringe is familiar with from his infancy - a nursery! Though his clan was nomadic, when it was time to settle down with new children they would often pick a coral reef in warm water and find a safe place for all of the mothers to rest while they hatch and birth. This place seems to be no different, with a spot for the expecting in front and those nursing and lying with their mates and new children in back.

It is a rather nice location, tall ceilings for the youngest to learn to swim, no harsh or sharp edges; there is even a hot spring denoted by boiling bubbles in back, giving the entire cavern a comfortable temperature. It isn’t too far off from what his clan would pick at all.

The room sparks with laughter when Vermilion brings in the soon-to-be mother; the first image everyone gets of Cringe is a frustrated and disgruntled glare at nothing desirable, as if he is fresh out of a fight with his mate. He drops the expression and flushes quickly, startled at the room’s reaction. He mostly receives sympathetic stares and understanding snickers; they all at least know what it is like to be carrying your first clutch. There is no one way to pinpoint the women, but the word submissive is entirely absent from his mind. No one is small like him, they’re all whales in comparison (or, perhaps, he would be a guppy), but the monsters’ top halves vary widely. While he had come to understand that there are more types of mers than just skeletons from interactions with other tribes his passed on occasion, it was strange to see them all mingled in one place. Shouldn’t a tribe have just one type? Surely all these different mers couldn’t just live together, right??

He feels entirely self conscious when the other expecting mothers carry 5 to 7 eggs, and he chances a look down at himself to see the 2 remaining. It was... abnormal, then, to have such a small clutch. Well, the asshole still carrying him should have considered that when he stole Cringe from the ocean’s floor. Vermilion seems jovial, uncaring or oblivious to any flaws his chosen mate might have and chirping to the women as he settles a place for Cringe among them. The cushion for Cringe is significantly smaller, as if meant for a child of their kind, but it fits him perfectly - which just serves to annoy him far more than it should.

The women positively coo over Cringe, one rubbing his skull softly as another gently pats his stomach, feeling the eggs inside. He bristles at the sudden touching, withstanding it for only a moment before slinking his way back towards Vermilion without realizing it. It wasn’t his intention to hide behind the mer that so boldly claimed him as a mate, and yet he is the only familiar creature in the room so it is exactly what he does.

That doesn’t mean Cringe has to like it.

The mer rubs his face and presses his teeth to his skull in a chaste kiss before settling Cringe back on his cushion and sighing apologetically to the ladies. They simply giggle, forgiving the faux pas. Cringe lets out a noise of displeasure as Vermilion pulls back to leave, staring after him helplessly as he swims off.

A pang hits his chest. He watches his claimed-mate’s tail disappear into the caves, leaving him alone in the unknown. It’s far too familiar - the sorrowful ache, the dread that he’s already forgotten. It makes his soul race and he sucks in through his gills harshly to forget these feelings. Not far behind is the rush of panic that one of the unfamiliar mers might have caught him grieving; he checks his tail out of force of habit to make sure that his fins haven’t started to droop with emotion, then remembers that they no longer exist to give away his mood. He lets his shoulders fall and just stares after the hole where his not-mate left.

Once Vermilion has gone, the ladies all settle into a lounging position that appears far more comfortable on their rounded bellies than the upright and alert positions of greeting they offered their guest. Cringe flinches, looking back in confusion as one of the mers who touched his belly before brushes his spine with a fin. She stares back, seeming just as confused by the little mer’s response. Everyone is so... touchy in this clan. At home such a gesture would be considered rude and condescending. Though perhaps that’s just how it is here, mers touch and be touched casually; they mean no offence by it. He lets the thought sink in for a moment as he watches the offending mer for a response. She lets out a calming, apologetic trill in response. It seems she accepts that touch was not the way to interact with this foreign mer. He nods in response, showing calculated appreciation for her restraint as he relaxes some…

They all seem so fascinated by him - particularly his size. Several women approached with deep concern, not realizing that the newly mated and soon-to-be-mother was in fact a fully grown adult and not a traumatized, orphaned child. More than once Cringe had to open his mouth to show them his fully-grown set of teeth; thankfully the amount of teeth that a mer-adult has is fairly universal, so the message got across with the concerned mothers blushing and swimming away embarrassed. After the first few times it went from ignorable to irritating - does he really look that much like a child to these people!?

His ego bruised a bit more than he’d like to admit, Cringe curls around his middle. The mate of the lowest creature in the clan - maimed and too small to hold more than two children in his womb… Cringe hasn’t felt a blow to his pride this bad before in his life.

Then again, the women here didn’t react negatively to his mate at all… they seemed almost friendly with him. If this were Cringe’s clan and the lowest mer tried to get within even a foot of the carrying he would be beaten until he could hardly crawl away. Perhaps this clan is different in their handling of class; however Cringe, despite witnessing this clan’s actions, still finds it hard to believe that such strange merpeople can exist.

Cringe’s drooping must have caught the attention of one of the caretakers here, because he feels a strong ‘woosh’ of water trill by him as two muscular, silky arms drop a load of sea-fruits by his head. Cringe’s neck snaps up fast to face the largest mer he has seen in his life - and in the past 4 hours he has seen some very large mers. The mer doesn’t look entirely unfriendly, smiling softly as his beard floats behind him in the water. He, much like the other hunter and fighter mers, bares scars down his body, from his face to his chest and down to his tail. A pair of horns jut from his maine, marking him as a Boss Mer - one of the most powerful and deadly mer.

Cringes eyes widen as he quickly makes himself small (something that is disgracefully easy for him) in a show of respect for the obviously superior mer. The larger just chuckles, shaking his head and pushing forward the food. It dawns on Cringe that he must be the guardian of the nursery - it would make sense, with the flecks of grey marking his beard and the dullness seeping its way through his scales. He is nearing the end of his life - though Cringe imagines it was a long and adventurous one.

Elders are yet another subject Cringe has little knowledge on; the old in his clan were destined to die once as they are unable to contribute to the school. That is, if one made it to such an age before they either took ill, or were eaten, or got trapped, or separated… really, there were a lot of ways to die when your clan is moving around every few weeks. For this man to be as old as he looks, he must be not only powerful, but very well loved to be given a place in their society even as his use dwindles.

Cringe decides that befriending such a man would be wise and propels himself upward with a bone, gliding to a ledge to be closer to eyeline with the giant mer. The man seems both greatly amused and impressed by Cringe’s effort, and the smaller chooses to be flattered rather than offended by the slight chuckle of a response.

He carefully draws at his magic, mindful of the eggs. He has already used a bit too much magic today, and while before such an action would hardly phase him, the babies do not seem very fond of him exerting himself in any way. The Boss-Mer watches him with a similarly wary expression as he lifts up the fruits with his magic to his new perch and peels them with skilled fingers. Ignoring the pain in his tail he shifts it infront of him to sit casually as he prepares every single pod that had been put before him. He is more thankful now for his mother than ever before - she had insisted he learn to shell pods even as he bid to be a hunter like the clan’s strongest. The skill, once put before him, had to be mastered, as Cringe is not satisfied with a half-perfected talent. Even though he thought it to be a waste of his time then, the look that the boss-mer gives him when he sees Cringe go through the pile of eight in less than a dozen breaths makes it all worth it.

He beams with pride as he hands over a shelled fruit to the huge merperson, letting him sample Cringe’s work. He thanks his mother internally for sitting him down for all that time when he was so young. His hands subconsciously wrap around his small bulge of a stomach as the mixed emotions play out in his mind.

The boss-mer is obviously impressed with Cringe, swimming off and returning with a handful of pods for Cringe to work with - which, considering it is his handful, is quite a bit. Cringe smiles, relaxing some. A task… something to occupy his time with that isn’t sitting around being an incubator! He quickly gets to work, keeping his pile of fruits off to the side so that he can snack on them as he carefully peels and prepares each stalk. There isn’t a plant given to him that he doesn’t recognize, having traveled so much in his life.

He gets into a rhythm and quickly loses track of his thoughts. His mind wanders back to his mother; the food lessons, he realizes, weren’t just lessons. They spent a lot of time together picking seaweed and deboning fish. It was… pleasant. He was glad that he got to know her so well. His mind jumps forward to his own babies - will they want to learn to prepare food, or will they be out with their father doing… whatever it is Vermilion does when he isn’t near Cringe…

Huh… it’s funny, Cringe never really thought about what role his captor has in his school, other than ‘subordinate’. He supposes that the mer may be good at medicine, perhaps a student or co-apprentice of the Undyne mer; it would explain how he was able to heal Cringe so well. Though he hasn’t actually seen Vermilion do any kind of medicine work. There were also his hunting or fighting abilities that Cringe hasn’t yet had a chance to gage; perhaps he is strong. Perhaps he is one of the hunters - like the ones that Cringe saw take down the porpoises - taking leave so he can mate? Or maybe he’s a guard of some sort?

He’ll have to find a way to sneak out and follow him one day now that Cringe is starting to build a mental map of the cave system.

In his thoughts Cringe failed to notice the pair of eyes watching him until he happened to turn his head just right to see them staring right at him. The little red dots are just startling enough to make him jump and throw the pods that he had been peeling up with his tail. He fums as the child snickers, despritely trying to snatch up the pods before they fell out of range of his arms. Cringe really doesn’t have the strength to go chasing after them and get back onto his tall rock.

And he really happens to like being up here. It makes him feel big.

The little brat swims after the fallen food as soon as they get over their fit of giggles. They swim back to him and drop the load off to the side. Cringe nods his thanks, peeling off another stalk to get started on. The mer sits next to him, tail curled up under them. They are a human-type mer, with mostly humanoid features, save for their unnaturally red eyes. Cringe met a pack of those living in the more temperate regions in the north; they happen to be rather weather sensitive when it comes to the cold. Honestly, he’s surprised that even this moderate temperature isn’t too cold for them.

They seem to be just at the age where they should be leaving the nursery; however it isn’t too odd to see them here yet. Cringe imagines they are probably taking on their first duties, whatever that may be, and returning to the nursery at night. That is, if they can survive that long away from the heated pools in back.

He doesn’t pay the child much mind until they reach their greedy little fingers towards his finished pile. While cringe’s overall speed may have been damaged by his injury, he can still move his arms just as fast as ever, and he doesn’t hesitate to dart a hand out and slap the creature’s wrist. No. Bad. Children do not just take what isn’t given to them.

The human-mer seems genuinely offended by this, clutching their wrist and frowning. Cringe simply raises a brow, looking amused. Pouting won’t work on him - he had too many sisters, both younger and older. When they realize their attempts are in vein they simply lay on their stomach and moan, sounding defeated. Cringe rolls his eyes and reaches his hand over to his own pile of fruits. There is plenty of food that he doesn’t have to worry about being left out of the lottery anytime soon, and these are probably meant to be dinner for the children here anyways. He scoops up one of the smaller pods and breaks in half, keeping one in his lap for himself while offering the other out to the kid.

They perk up, reaching for it a little too quickly for Cringe’s liking, and he holds it back until they politely request the food. They take it and sit on their tail, munching on it contently as they watch Cringe with curious eyes. They stare at his tail long enough for him to become self conscious, sitting up a bit straighter and making noises to take their attention back up to his face. To be fair, had he seen a mer as injured as he is when he was that young he would likely stare too…