IVORY

—

Thomas wrinkled his nose at the smell of the cigarette. “What is that? Don’t you think this alleyway smells terrible enough?” He took a step back and shot Weldon a disgusted look. Funnily enough, the more he complained about his brother’s awful habit, the more like himself he felt. He got the sense he’d spent a lot of time nagging his brothers. For their own good, a little voice in his head insisted.

But they’d been talking about Atla’s death. A subject that Thomas was very reluctant to return to. He looked away, voice sullen as he questioned, “Besides the fact that she died at all? And that no heir was born to replace her?” His shoulders slumped. “Nothing that I can think of. I was in her kingdom, staying at her court, but I wasn’t actually with her when it happened. Nobody really knows what happened to her, as far as I can tell. I questioned everyone I could.”

He returned his attention to Weldon, doing his best to conceal his grief for Atla. He wanted to keep Weldon’s spirits up - so he nodded, despite his doubts. He didn’t even have the first idea what had happened to him. And besides, without the help of Seraphina, he would have died. If what happened to him had happened to his brothers, he didn’t have much hope for them. “Now that we’re all here, I’m sure we’ll be able to work together. We’ll do everything in our power to get them back.”

----

      Weldon gave Thomas an incredulous smile as he scolded him for his smoking habit. “Hey, pal, I got used to smoking cigars in Cuba and Honduras. Trust me, you should be happy it’s not a Bolivar,” he took a drag off of it, making sure to blow it in the opposite direction of Thomas, “geez, you’re gone a century and still on my damn case about the things I choose to do.” Weldon couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that even though Thomas still had a lot of self-exploration to do, he still nagged his big brother like he was never gone.

      Weldon instantly regretted his decision to ask Thomas more questions, especially about the tragic events involving Atla. From the sounds of it, it was just as big of a mystery to Thomas and Mellora as it was to him. Nobody knew anything, and they were still at square one, but now with open wounds. Weldon wasn’t helping by asking, just pouring salt on them. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” Weldon apologized, sighing deeply, “I’ve been on what feels like a wild goose chase for over half a century, and I haven’t even taken a step toward the answers.” He knew he was being impatient, but patience never was Weldon’s strong suit.

     Damn right they’d do everything in their power. They had to. Failure was always an option, but it didn’t have the desired outcome. It would leave them more broken and confused than ever before. In the meantime though, Weldon figured he’d have a bit of fun on land. It had been so long since he had gotten to thoroughly enjoy the leg life, and things were so much different than they used to be.

Astoria had no responsibilities for the day, not something she was always able to get used to. In Portvale, she used this time for different activities than she would have under the ocean. She grabbed a book and walked out into the air, gaze drifting upwards towards the sky. The sky was different here but it wasn’t terrible.

Astoria moved in the direction of the beach, feet hitting sand as she looked for a place to sit. She would probably be here until late, and when it got dark she might even allow herself a change from legs to tail just for a moment or two, a quick swim. She was undecided on this so she would play it by ear.

She had been flicking through the pages, feeling more at home near the water, but she soon began to sense that she was no longer alone. Astoria kept her gaze cast down for a few more moments before she looked up, scanning the beach.

---

Weldon thought he recognized the woman on the beach, but he hadn’t seen her in human form in a long time. He approached her from behind, he knew she had sensed his presence when she looked up toward the white sands of the beach. “Never thought I’d see you up here,” Weldon started, smirking seemed to be his usual look, “so did you decide to follow me, or did you hear about the impeccable view?”

The mermaid princess of the Antarctic was one that always held a special place in his heart. She saw a side of him that he hid from his brothers as they started disappearing. Only she knew that behind his facade of false confidence was a tender heart that ached for answers. Behind the cocky smirk was a rallying cry for a cause that seemed lost. 

“So are you still going by Astoria these days, or no?” Weldon asked, not knowing what to address her as.

status: closed starter for @weldonxnash

location: The Houseboat

time: evening

One would think that her time at Port Vale playing play-pretend was when she escaped her duties as captain of the Caspian (and Black) Sea, but seeing as most of the prominent figures of the waters were here, it was more work than leisure, every moment she spent here. In human terms, it was like she was at a leaders’ convention or something. With a few of the sirens falling ill from an unknown disease, she was wracked with worry about whether this condition might be contagious and possibly life threatening. She had spent hours at work poring over multiple books, trying to find remedies that just might help them get better faster. 

She wondered if this was an archaic illness that humans have since grown immune to, with their advanced vaccines and constant exposure to these conditions. Maybe it was the minor differences in their anatomies and genetics that made them more susceptible, or the changes in their diet and environment. There were so many factors to these things, that Aster was often kept up late at night pondering the possibilities. She was no human doctor, but she knew at least that prevention and isolation of the infected was the best way to stop the spread at its source. 

 She sighed as she scribbled down some theories on her small notebook. She found herself at the Houseboat once again to possibly take the edge off after a nice dinner. She almost didn’t notice the seat beside her at the bar creak. She looked up from her notes and couldn’t help but smile. "Fancy seeing you, here. Have your brothers been giving you a hard time, again?” She teased before waving the bartender over. “The first round’s on me. You look like you could use a drink.”

---

Weldon heard the very familiar voice of someone he knew back in Assyria. He wasn’t used to running into so many mers on land, so naturally it took him by surprised. He whipped his head in the direction of the voice and saw her. It was Aster, the Siren Captain of the Caspian sea, it had been a couple years since he had ventured that far east of the Caribbean sea. “Well, well, well, look who it is,” Weldon leaned forward in his stool, “and yes, they have, but they always put me through hell, so that’s nothing new. How have you been?”

The bartender immediately came when she beckoned him. “I’ll have a bottle of Guinness, and a lemon wedge if you have it,” He ordered the drink on her dime, turning his attention toward her once more, “thank you.” Weldon remembered a few times when the war was still going on that he kept the peace between Aster and other the mermaid princesses that dared to challenge her rule over the Caspian. Reminiscing on those times was usually not the move, but thinking of those instances was never a bad thing. 

The bartender brought over his drink, and he dived right in, taking a big gulp of it then biting the lemon wedge to kill the bitterness of the stout. “Next round is on me, I believe we have some catching up to do.”

Thomas managed a small smile when Weldon clasped his shoulder. Together, he insisted, and Thomas nodded in agreement. He didn’t want to burden his brothers too much with his own troubles, not after they’d already spent so long worrying about him, grieving him. But he did appreciate the fact that he wasn’t alone anymore.

“I knew some of that,” he said softly, once Weldon was finished. “I’ve been in Port Vale for a while now. I arrived with Mellora earlier this year. After…returning, I suppose, I traveled to the North Atlantic, remembering that I had been close to the North Atlantic princess before and that I had promised to help her. I was there when she died.” He looked away, expression creasing with sorrow.

“But when Mellora was elected leader and decided to travel to Port Vale to seek out the cause of the darkness, I asked to come along. I believed I owed it to her to help her. We’ve learned precious little when it comes to the darkness threatening Assyria, though. I’m worried that with so many of us here, we’ve left Assyria unguarded. But now that I’ve found Isidore, Mike, Ronan, you - well, I can hardly leave." 

He sighed. "I believe you, of course. I think the darkness is tied to the disappearances of our brothers, certainly. Perhaps even what happened to me. But I have no idea what we can do about it.”

---

     Without thinking about it, Weldon instinctively reached into his shirt pocket and grabbed a cigarette. As he lit it, he absorbed every word of what Thomas was saying. “Alright,” he took a hit of his cigarette, “now we’re closer to being on the same page. Is there anything you can tell me about Atla’s death?Anything strange leading up to it at all?” He dug deep for any answer he could get, maybe he should take a walk over to see Mel, maybe she could tell him more, something Thomas didn’t remember or was overlooking. He exhaled the hot smoke from his lungs.

     Weldon chuckled, despite the dark subject, “Well it seems you and Mellora are a little ahead of me on the search for answers,” Weldon looked at Thomas confidently, “but Assyria is safe for now, the answers are here, the sooner we find them, the safer Assyria will be, you needn't worry.” He took another drag off his cigarette, breathing the smoke in deep. He didn’t really know if Assyria was safe, but there was no use in guarding Assyria, when nobody knew what they would be guarding it from.

   “Exactly,” Weldon said, exhaling a plume of gray disease, “and if your disappearance is directly connected, there is a chance we can get all of our brothers back.” Though it was only wishful thinking, Weldon was counting on that. It was hard enough for him to step up and accept responsibility when Thomas disappeared, maybe if the rest of them came back, his burden would feel even lighter. Maybe he could sleep at night.

When: Late Afternoon (3-4pm)

Where: Near the docks

     Weldon had just left Isidore’s house from visiting him and Ronan. It had been a decent visit, Isidore was his usual pain-in-the-ass self. So, naturally, Weldon was a little wired and restless. He made his way to the docks, considering a dip in the water. He felt so dry, it had been almost 60 years since he’d gone a month on land with hardly a dip. However, on his way, as he admired some of the houses on the block he saw a woman outside that looked very familiar. I know her. He thought to himself.

     Or rather, he used to know her. Just in the first sight of her, he could see something was different. Of course she had aged, but it wasn’t that. She looked more broken, like life had dealt her a bad hand and she just couldn’t get better luck with her cards. “Ione,” he raised his voice so she could hear him, “is that really you?” It had been a little over a decade since he met her in another sea town he made a brief stop in. Though, if he hadn’t met her there, the stop would have been much more brief. 

    “I-it’s great to see you, Ione,” His smile was genuine, but he was in such a deep state of shock to see his long lost friend that he stuttered, a rarity for him, “really, I mean wow.” He didn’t know if he should hug her, he figured he would let her make the first physical contact.

   xx

   “Wh- what?” Ridley asked flatly, her lips in a very unamused line across her jaw, an eyebrow raising as she tried to make sense of - of whatever it was he said. The man spoke in riddles and confusing patterns, and Ridley had very little interest in attempting to decipher it. If he was choosing to be stupid, then why did he have to go and make it her problem, all of a sudden? “Whatever, Weldon,” She dragged his name longer than she should, implying her disinterest in the who. “I don’t have a clue who those people are, or you- if you’re people at all,” She lied, giving him another very suspicious glance. 

   He knew her; of her, rather, or of her home, in the very least. But she wasn’t expecting to run into… oh. Was he- no, could he be? A hippocampi? Her chin lifted slightly and her eyes narrowed, but she curiously considered his offer. It felt right, making him give a favor to her after startling her like that; and a hippocampi doing her a favor, that felt nice to try on. “Your cigarette?” Ridley echoed, having some memory of hearing that they were terrible for you, and in some cases, very against the rules.

   Somehow, that only sweetened the deal. “Fine. It’s Ridley. You’re a hippocampi, aren’t you?” She stated it accusingly, but there was a hint of appeal in her voice, too - Ronan had turned out to be a fun time, from what she could remember. Perhaps Weldon would be a potential ally to consider for the future. Everyone else in the siren group chat seemed to have some sort of insider connection to the hippocampi brotherhood; like some secret club, and she wanted in. Weldon could be her ticket; if he proved more reliable than Ronan. He, like Ridley herself, was as flighty as a sea gull skimming the white caps for fish. 

   With a manicured hand, Ridley reached for the ‘cigarette’ and turned it upside down in her fingers, watching ash drip from the hot end of it. “…what does it do?”

---

     Weldon stood before the siren amused by the fact that he had stumped her. His tongue brushed the inside of his cheek behind the smirk. This siren has bark to her, but did she have the bite? Weldon thought to himself. Let’s find out. “All I’m sayin’, honey, is that I don’t have a monopoly on stupidity, I can share if you’d like, or you can get your daily dose right here.” Weldon cackled pointing his thumb inward toward himself. He knew that anyone who had been in this town for a prolonged period had to know Isidore. The guy was the resident hunk in town. Well, until Weldon showed up. “Oh, so you are new here, huh? Well, me too, kid.”

     The siren seemed confused by what a cigarette was, she was definitely a newbie. There was nothing wrong with that in Weldon’s eyes. “Yeah, here.” Weldon took the cigarette out of his mouth, handing it to her with the filter facing her, the ember shielded by his hand so she wouldn’t burn herself. The way she called him out didn’t seem as much a question as it was an accusation. He guffawed, exhaling his last hit before he handed her the cigarette, “Ayuh, the oldest of the five remaining,” he informed her, “just got to town a few weeks ago, Ridley.” He put the same emphasis on her name as she did his. 

          She was not used to so many people around like there were in Port Vale. Aylin had always been the type to want someone to respect her for who she was. As a seal, her entire pod had been annoying about the way she was, the way she liked to go off on her own and take risks that she didn’t think were that big of a deal. She was smarter than everyone in the room and she wanted them to know that. “I mean, yes. Everyone needs to sit. We all need to sit. Sitting is nice, except when there’s so many things to look at, is there really the time to sit?” And there was so much to explore here on land that she wanted to explore. One day she hoped she’d get a chance. Hopefully, she would not end up serving her purpose to Scylla and then tossed aside because Aylin was trying to prevent that from happening. 

          “I mean, I know I’m not alone. There are tons of people here.” Was she not convincing as a human? Who was this person that he clearly knew she wasn’t from here when she was doing her best to blend in. Then again, Aylin had never done a good job at blending in. She stuck out like a sore thumb wherever she went, she wasn’t surprised that here she did the same. Blending in was kind of the key, so she’d have to get better at that. Aylin didn’t want anyone to think she had a specific agenda here when she… had her own agenda, not the one given to her. She made her own path. “But how does life up here work?” she raised her eyebrow, wondering what the advice given would be. 

          “Business, I guess.” Not her own. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here.” It wasn’t her decision to stay here, but she was fine with it because Port Vale had some interesting secrets and Aylin loved secrets. “What about you? What brings you here?” 

---

Weldon had a lot of questions. He knew she was from the sea, but he didn’t know where exactly or what she was. Clearly not a hippocampus, but not quite Mermaid or Siren, he knew it had to be one of the two though. He figured he’d warm up to her a bit and get the information later. It wasn’t important at this time, what was important was that he ally himself with her. The sea was growing darker, Mer were getting sick, some mysteriously disappearing or dying. Now wasn’t the time to worry about what faction a mer belonged to. “I guess we could say we need to sit,” Weldon began, looking down at his legs, “but this leg shit is easy for me, I could walk around all day.” Not that he had much of an option, having no job, no car of his own, and no real home.

The way she emphasized people made Weldon remember that many mer were clinging to their human identities in fear of persecution or turning to foam. Weldon’s personality as a human was the same as it was when he was at sea. “There are people, sure, but there are many from the sea kingdoms here too,” he informed her, “those who know what it’s like to be a fish out of water, so to speak.” He paused, pulling a cigarette pack from his shirt pocket, beating his palm with it and lighting one of them. He felt like an honest answer to her question was best. “I suggest you get in touch with someone that can make you a fake ID,” Weldon chuckled, inhaling the fire from the cigarette, “that will help a lot, these humans like to ask questions, so it doesn’t hurt to have some documents that fit with a fabricated backstory.”

Ah, business, Weldon thought to himself. What business does this mysterious mer have in Port Vale. He was perplexed, but determined to find out more. “Business as well,” Weldon replied, “visiting family, too. My brothers are all here and so I decided this was a good place to come.”

    xx

      Though as the months progressed and Ridley managed to find more skill with a pair of scissors she was allowed to do more than sweep up the cut hair, there was still a limit to what she was told to do. And, unfortunately, that day Angela had picked the lovely task of organizing the stock room. It had taken two hours (partially due to Ridley’s habit of taking extra long bathroom breaks to sit and play on her phone) and she was absolutely exhausted. Luckily, her boss had found it in the goodness of her heart to allow the siren a break, so Rids had slipped outside. After taking a quick glance and only seeing one person, someone she’d kept a loose eye on of course, she relaxed and leaned into the side of the building with a long sigh. 

    Stolen moments of relaxation never come for free, however - no sooner had her shoulders slumped loosely did they clench back up again, Ridley whirling around to glare at the unknown man. What was he, and how does he know? “Can you, like, shut up?” Ridley hissed, quickly closing the distance between them with half a mind to clamp her hand over his mouth to prevent him saying anything else incriminating - in public. Angela could walk out any second. “Are you stupid or something? You can’t go around saying things like that! Who even are you?” 

The siren made a beeline for Weldon, he didn’t move a muscle. He just stood in the same spot, cigarette hanging from his smirking lips. Sirens were usually more vicious than Mermaids, but this particular Siren didn’t intimidate him one bit. It brought to mind a human child threatening a much larger human child. It was kind of funny. Enough to illicit an absent minded chuckle made him sound as stupid as the siren thought he was.

“I can shut up,” Weldon started, leaning back into the brick wall behind him, “but I don’t really wanna.” He knew he was just testing the siren, pushing her buttons. He knew she couldn’t do anything to him, not that she wasn’t physically capable of ruining his day, but the rules on land were different, and she was surely smart enough to know that. “Stupid? Everyone is born with the right to be stupid, and while I may be abusing the privilege, it’s just because I can.”

Weldon exhaled two streams of smoke from his nostrils like an angry dragon. “I’m Weldon, I’m Ronan’s, Isidore’s, and Thomas’ brother. I assume you know at least one of them?” He did nothing to lower his voice in the time since she had approached him. Why would he? That sea-foam thing was a lie made up to cause the mer to fear human interaction. Did Weldon go out and tell humans what he was? No, but if someone overheard him talking about being one, would anyone really believe it?

“You look a little tense,” Weldon informed the siren, “how about I give you a puff off my cigarette to calm your nerves, and you tell me your name?”

          She hated feeling like she was lost. There were still strange human things that Aylin didn’t get, but she hated not knowing her way around. Back home, she was so good at knowing where everything was, even when things changed. Eventually, she wanted Port Vale to feel like that, but right now she just felt… well like a fish out of water. Aylin looked down at the bench with a puzzled expression, pretty sure it hadn’t been there when she went into the museum. Although humans weren’t able to make things out of nothing, so she must not have paid attention. Aylin also didn’t really like that, she needed to be hyper focused on her surroundings so she didn’t get hurt. 

          “Oh, good. I was hoping it was something like that and not that I wasn’t observant,” she responded in a playful tone. She looked at the bench with an annoyed face. “Stupid benches. I think I prefer the seagulls to them.” She watched a bird swoop near one of the trashcans. Aylin looked back up at the museum. She looked at the stranger cautiously. Aylin was trying to figure out who was who, but only for her own curiosity. “I’m Aylin,” she responded, trying to figure out how to navigate a conversation. “Is that not normal?” she asked. “Not being from around here? Should I be introducing myself like that? Aylin, I’m not form here originally. Or is that like a you thing?” She knew what he was getting at, but she didn’t really want to discuss the ocean just yet. She’d just tease for a little bit. 

---

Weldon agreed with her sentiment that seagulls were better than benches. Seagulls may be loud and annoying, but benches were silent and annoying which was somehow worse. He didn’t know how to make sense of it, but she was right. “Benches have no purpose, like who needs to sit? Humans? Come on.” He joked to the newcomer.

The hippocampus rubbed the back of his very human head and chuckled at Aylin’s response, “well, Aylin, that might just be a me thing,” he played along hushing his voice, “I just wanted to let you know, you aren’t alone out here, land has changed since I was up here, there are plenty of us discovering how life works up here.” Or rather rediscovering. Weldon thought to himself, thinking of his own situation. Now there were cars that ran without gasoline, TVs were more common and thinner for some reason, people had telephones that they carried with them and could give them answers to any question. 

“So are you in town for business or pleasure?” Weldon figured this answer wasn’t too personal. In what he could remember of the 1950s and 1960s, it was mostly pleasure, but now he was here on business and needed all the friends he could get.

—

Weldon’s steady hand and calming words made Thomas feel a little self-conscious about his own panic. It was just the excitement of reuniting with another brother mixing with fear over how he might react to his lost memories. He took a breath — and nearly gagged at the smell of trash. Perhaps he could have found a better alley. Or somewhere that wasn’t an alley altogether.

“Yes, I know about the darkness. I was in the North Atlantic when Atla was killed, and I arrived here with Mellora, their new leader,” he explained. “I hope to be able to protect her and help the North Atlantic mermaids, but the truth is that I think I have been little use so far. We have not made much progress in determining the source of the darkness, not yet.”

He averted his eyes as Weldon asked what he did remember. “Very little. Sorry, I know that is not a very helpful answer. It’s just that what few memories I do have are removed from any context; I have no idea what order they should be in. I can list off my memories for you, but I can’t promise they’ll be any help.”

He began with one that seemed rather irrelevant. “I remember exploring a great human city — but that must have been quite a while ago, because the streets were cobblestone and there were horses everywhere.” He frowned. “I remember swimming through the ocean to explore a shipwreck that had fallen several thousand meters below the surface.”

His brows furrowed. “I remember coming to you, crying, because Ronan had hit me.” That one was new; he only remembered it as he was telling it. “But that must have been quite a while ago, because he was very small. So was I, for that matter.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised that he had ever been so young.

“And…I remember pledging my allegiance to the North Atlantic mermaids, to help them defend against the sirens. I believe this memory must be more recent, because sirens are rather new creatures, yes?” He looked to Weldon for confirmation, then repeated, “I’m sorry. I know it’s not much. I am trying to recover my memories, but I haven’t had any major breakthroughs yet.”

---

There was a clear gap in Thomas’ memory that Weldon realized was completely blank. The first thing he remembers after he disappeared was being around when Atla died. Before that he remembers the war and Sirens being introduced to the oceans. Weldon sighed and clasped Thomas’ shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out. Together.” he didn’t know whether he was lying to reassure his brother or if he really believed they could rise above it.

“I ought to catch you up then,” Weldon led him to an abandoned part the beach as he spoke in a hushed voice, “Sirens have been in the water for nearly 500 years. The war has been over for 50 years. The two sides agreed to some bogus peace treaty,” Weldon had tried to tell Sophie it wasn’t over when the terms had been agreed upon, and though she trusted him, he always felt like nobody else did. “it stopped the fighting, but it didn’t stop the clear divide between cultures. Many of the Assyrian Mermaids rejected Sirens as nothing more than savage war-mongers. The two still remain at odds today.”

“Since the war has ended though, there have been strange occurrences. Atla’s Pendant goes missing, and ends up here,” Weldon continued to explain, “then a violent storm sweeps it back into the ocean. Port Vale seems to be at the center of all of it, I don’t know if the Mer followed the problem up here, or if the problem followed them, but things have only gotten worse since then.” He could feel the darkness in his gut. Whatever caused the Hippos to disappear wasn’t done causing chaos.

“I had to get up here and find our brothers, we are not safe,” Weldon told his brother the truth, “it all has to be connected, the disappearances of our brothers, you, the war... All of this shit.” Weldon looked at his brother awaiting questions or a response. It was all getting too real and Weldon knew it was his job to keep what was left of his kind safe.

who: @weldonxnash​ where: Weldon’s car

The subs that were installed into Weldon’s car were booming, and they currently sat parked over the lookout. The cliffs were down below and the high waters splashed the parking spaces up above. Weldon was among the rare that she trusted, a friend that had seen her through war and ruling her kingdom. He has come and gone while she remained in the Antarctic, she missed him when he wasn’t there but she knew that she needed to stay and continue the responsibility of governing her people. At times, she almost asked him if she could go with him when he went to land as to not be without him but her crown stilled her hand, although she had a feeling he could tell by the look in her eyes but he wouldn’t ask it of her. He wouldn’t ask her to surrender all that was important to her.

Times were different now and he was the first face she had sought when she had taken to her shaky human legs. They could have the freedom and normalcy that she had always desired for them, where for once her throne wouldn’t come between them. They were merely surface dwellers and for once the anxieties and worries for Assyria melted away, to be replaced with being present with him in this moment. She was still new to human affairs and this is her first time in a car but he promised to take her on the winding road that circled the island, giving her a real tour. “We’re going to go fast?” An awkward semblance to her words as she didn’t quite know what it meant but that she was enticed and had a thrill in her bones to see what this vehicle could do.

---

Weldon had heard whispers among the mer that Sophie was in Port Vale, his first thought was that he definitely had to get some time with her. She was the only mer he was truly loyal to outside of his brothers. He just had to make it clear to her how he really felt about leaving her there. He never wanted to, he wanted to take her away from the war and the ocean. However, she couldn’t just run away from responsibility like he could. His current whereabouts were a testament to his irresponsibility.

The car he was driving wasn’t even his. As soon as he promised Sophie he would give her a real tour, he went to the next town over and decided a nighttime joyride sounded nice. Weldon figured since it was late he could probably have the car until about 4 a.m., before the authorities came looking for it. “Yeah, faster than either of us could dream of going on land.” He replied, smirking. Not only was showing Sophie the sights, albeit with motion blur; as well as showing her what he called ‘good music’ which mainly consisted of 80s Metal and 90s Grunge. Now that they were parked, he wanted to get down to his reason for doing this.

“You know I never wanted to leave you there, right,” He looked from the steering wheel to her, “I didn’t want to be around the war, but I still wanted to be around you.”

Where: Outside Barnacles and Baubles Salon

When: Late afternoon.

Weldon stood in the ally that bordered the salon smoking a cigarette. He had decided to get a hair cut when he saw the lead singer in an old Alice in Chains video on MTV Classic at the Inn (don’t ask him how he got the money to pay for a week at the inn). He had gotten his hair cut by a woman named Angela who seemed a little tense and uptight. Damn, I’d hate to be an employee at this place, Weldon thought to himself. As if on queue with his thoughts, a young woman walked out of the back door of the salon. He hadn’t seen her in there before, maybe she was Angela’s prisoner and escaped. She was clearly a siren. Her body language was hunter at heart, so aware of her surroundings. 

He turned his head toward her and spoke, “So, which sea are you from, love? I’m gonna guess... Mediterranean? No. Black Sea.”  In the past Weldon had used his excellent senses in order to impress women by guessing their perfume, and winning the occasional bet against men. How was this any different?

location: outside mermaid museum 

time: evening

status: open

         Aylin was still getting used to life on land around humans—and well, anyone else that was living in Port Vale. It was different than the island of course with people of her own kind and she’d known that would be the case, but it still was a shock to her now after a few weeks just how different it was from what she expected. There was a part of her that wanted to be cautious around humans because she knew what they did to the sea. Though the urge to be reckless was just as great. This was a chance at a new life and Aylin wanted to live it, even if she wasn’t quite yet free. One day she would be free to do as she pleased—go between the ocean and the land as she wanted, not trapped in one or the other. She wanted that not only for herself, but her selkie siblings. If anyone could figure all this out, it was her. She’d always known she was special and she knew this was proof of it—getting chosen, getting to come to the island. Aylin wasn’t sure how she was supposed to play a kind of game without figuring out what exactly the game she was playing was about. So she had a lot of work to do. She had to figure out her next move of course, but she promised herself she could wait to do all that when she at least could make her way around without looking like an idiot.

         Today she was exploring the museum because it was the best place she could go to find more information on the town and she knew the key to everything was information. There were things she could at least gather on her own accord, rather than dragging someone down with her to find the answers. Aylin didn’t have the charm that some of the other selkies had and she didn’t want to drag someone into her curiosity if there was a chance she could endanger someone for the answers she was looking for. As a newcomer, she didn’t think it was weird for her to hang out at the museum to learn more about the place she now lived—or did humans not care about that? She wondered around the museum for what seemed like hours, reading everything she could about Port Vale that she could. Aylin didn’t realize what time it was until she looked at her watch and realized that it was later than she realized. She rushed from the museum, not paying attention to where she was going and she bumped right into a bench. “Was that bench there when I went in?” she asked to no one in particular.

Weldon had been walking after his encounter with Thomas, racking his brain about how Thomas had been alive all this time and not been found. Where had he been? Did it feel like a century for him? That was when he saw a young woman, she looked lost and alone. Like she wasn’t from here. He had developed a sense for that long ago when he quit coming to land. He began to notice which of the sea-folk had gone to land and which hadn’t. However he didn’t recognize her, he couldn’t tell if she was a mermaid or a siren. 

   xx

    Though he had offered to host Weldon a few times over the years, and had always felt slightly annoyed at his brother’s disinterest in land to the extent he expressed, Isidore had been happy enough to leave well alone. Weldon hadn’t tried to get him to go back, so Isi hadn’t pestered - though, apparently, pestering wasn’t required. He sauntered into the shop as if he belonged, and Isidore, mouth half agape, stared at him like a hallucination - but only for a moment. He supposed it wasn’t too crazy; hell, the rest of Assyria had already surfaced, of course Weldon would be following eventually. 

   Hopefully this meant he didn’t come with bad news, but by the looks of his teasing, nothing worse had transpired yet. “Not as dated as you,” Isidore scoffed, taking a moment but somehow sliding into their old banter, even if it did feel foreign after the years apart. He even accepted the hug, brief but warm and welcoming, and a smile had finally taken control of his face when he pulled away. It fell almost instantly as he watched Weldon reach for the cigarettes in the middle of his clean, sanitized, tidy lobby. “I kind of do, yeah,” Isidore uncomfortably answered, reaching out and gingerly taking the pack of cigarettes from Weldon to stash under the counter for safe keeping - knowing his brother, he’d turn his back for a second and he’d have one lit. “What- why- what are you doing here?”

---

Isidore stood in shock at the sudden appearance of his brother whom he hadn’t seen for over a decade, and Weldon found this amusing. He couldn’t help but keep a slight smirk on his face. After all a decade had gone by in a flash for Weldon. His mind had been too preoccupied to keep track of days and years. It was moments like this that reminded Weldon of exactly how long he had been away from his brothers. 

“Well I may be older,” Weldon kept up the joke, “but I heard vintage was back in style these days.” Isidore hugged back, which was saying something. As Weldon recalled he was always so broody. After a decade and a half on land, he was sure to get a little softer. Humans always found a way to influence sea-folk into their customs. Isidore grabbed the open pack of cigarettes from Weldon’s hand. He stood in disbelief for a second as Isidore put them under the counter. “I could hold on to ‘em...” Weldon’s voice trailed off lightly, understanding that this was Isidore’s establishment and he had to respect it.

—

Thomas flinched when Weldon whirled around, preparing for the worst, for the realization that this was some human he was harassing. Instead of a fist in the gut, though, he was enveloped in a tight hug. It left him just as breathless as a punch might have, but it was much more pleasant.

As Weldon’s questions tumbled out, Thomas took a step back and put his hand back on Weldon’s arm again. “Wel — Weldon.” His older brother’s name came out almost as if he’d always known it, though only seconds ago he wouldn’t have had the first idea. “Not here.”

He tugged him through the market, away from the humans. A few had noticed their dramatic reunion, and a few was too many for his liking. He kept walking until he found an alleyway they could duck into. Not the nicest place to have a reunion, dimly lit and smelling like human trash. Thomas, staring at Weldon, didn’t notice.

Without a word, he pulled Weldon into another hug. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said, not even sure which part he was apologizing for. “I wish I had answers for you. I don’t remember what happened to me. I don’t remember…almost anything.” He let Weldon go, eyes downcast. “I came to Port Vale in hopes I might learn more about who I am and what happened to me. And I’ve found you and Isidore and Ronan, so it wasn’t for nothing.”

---

Thomas grabbed Weldon’s wrist, and dragged him into the smelly alleyway. The smell forced its way up his nose, and instinctively it wrinkled. He pulled his hand up close to his face in a failed attempt to mask the smell. Thomas had seemed a little worked up, which only raised more concern. The hippos who hadn’t been very involved in the war seemed care-free before the disappearances, but for the first time since, Thomas looked scared and confused. 

Weldon felt himself pulled in for another hug before he could get another word out. Thomas practically squeezed the air out of him when he started apologizing. When he let go, Weldon laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s okay, brother,” he attempted to reassure Thomas, “I’ve found the others too. I came back to tell them that something dark is clouding our home, but you should know, it isn’t safe there now. I don’t know what it is, but I need to find some answers.” Weldon didn’t mean to interrogate his brother after so long, but he tried again to reach into his mind. 

“What exactly do you remember before you disappeared?” Weldon’s hunger for answers was insatiable, he felt the answers might come back if he and Thomas retraced his steps together.

For: @isidoredelgado​

Setting: Anchored Heart Tattoos; mid-day

Weldon had heard from a siren that had made her way to Port Vale that Isidore was the owner of a tattoo shop. A tattoo shop, Weldon thought to himself, definitely not what I thought he would do if he were human. He hadn’t seen Isidore in fifteen years. Though, it wasn’t as much time as the century in which he hadn’t seen Thomas. He still couldn’t believe Thomas was alive after being missing for a hundred years. Though, Isidore already knew.

Weldon found himself standing in front of a small building by the name of Anchored Heart Tattoos. Without hesitation he walked through the door, instantly he saw his brother. It was hard to miss him since he was the only one in the room. “Well, well, look at you, li’l brother,” Weldon made an entrance, “long time, no see.” He walked toward Isidore, glancing around the small shop, taking note of all the displayed work that his brother and whoever else worked there had done. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” he jested, “furniture is a little outdated, but then again, you never did have an eye for style.” He extended one arm for a half hug, Isidore never was much of what humans would call “a hugger” anyway. 

“You don’t mind if I smoke in here do you?” Weldon asked as he reached into his pocket for the cigarettes he had stolen from the black-out drunk fisherman on the pier.

@weldonxnash​

Thomas was strolling through the fish market, eyeing what the humans had out for sale. He had gotten quite adjusted to eating all sorts of human cuisine, but he still found himself longing for fish from time to time. After all, it was his natural diet, and…well, even not being able to remember much about his life in the water, he still got homesick for the ocean from time to time. Eating fish helped him feel closer to home.

But on this particular day, he got distracted before he had the chance to purchase a fish. He caught sight of a man that a little voice in the back of his head told him should be familiar, despite the fact that he wasn’t. Another hippocampus, he was certain. He simply had to see his face. So he forced his way through the crowd and to the man, practically chasing him down through the market.

Finally, he got close enough to grab him by the arm. “Sorry,” he gasped, short of breath. “Sorry. I don’t mean to bother you. I just had to check…do I know you, by chance?”

---

Weldon had been eyeballing the fish at the market pretty hard for about half an hour, it had been 50 years since he had seen fish displayed in this manner. He had grown accustomed to the hunt, and something about pre-hunted fish made him lose his appetite. Just as he was about to turn around, a tight-gripped hand grabbed his arm. He went on the defensive, spinning around and clenching his fist in one fluid motion, ready to strike. 

His fight response disappeared just as quickly as it had came. Thomas? It couldn’t be, he had been missing for over a century. But as sure as the ocean was blue, there he was. “What the hell,” Weldon exclaimed loudly, “I thought you were dead, it can’t be you, Thomas?” His head was reeling. He had so many questions, but he couldn’t say any more than he already had. He pulled his brother in for a hearty hug, a human custom that Weldon had gotten used to from his last land visit.