The base had been made in pure defiance of the enormous creature that prowled the lava lakes. Simon had spent hours building upon it, adding glass tunnels and an observatory and several circular rooms plus a moon pool, just to piss it off.
The numerous skeletal remains of the reapers had driven Simon into such madness and though there was a voice reminding him that this was part of the natural order of the world, he squashed it in favor of his ongoing grief. The name he had given the base Victory was to simply stake a small claim in the giant's territory.
Numerous times the sea dragon, which Simon had named The Acheron, attacked the base, but none of its lava bombs and flames could destroy the indestructible. Nothing would stop Simon from staring it down from behind the glass while it bellowed fire and lava directly onto him. Let this monster know who the Butcher was.
But now, back at home at his above-water outpost, Simon sat on the edge of his platform with his feet, now transformed into his long, beautiful tail, in the water. He held the small plush of a reaper that the fabricator had made and ran his fingers lightly over the fabric, remembering just how much time had passed since he had last seen his friend. And then, just when Simon thought he was fine, he began to weep uncontrollably.
Today we venture into the realm of myths and legends from East Frisia.
Once upon a time, when the River Ems still flowed beneath the city walls of Emden, the town was a bustling place full of ships and merchants of all kinds, offering their wares from all over the world. But one night, this idyll was disrupted by a violent storm from the north-west. And yet families were out in the glow of numerous lanterns to welcome their loved ones, the merchant sailors, and escort them into the warm embrace of home. But the Windsbraut knew no mercy. She raged, causing the waves to rise and fall, and tore at the sails and the ship itself. She drowned out the voices of the crew, all 40 of Emden’s sons.
Ships on a Stormy Sea, Raden Saleh, 1840 (x)
Faced with this great distress, everyone on shore shouted, asking where the boat was that was supposed to come to their aid. But the harbour master, who controlled the harbour entrance and held the keys to the boathouse, refused. He believed that Captain Elfert Giesberts had deserved his fate and that he would not sacrifice the precious boat for such a man, even though his own son was on board. He hated the captain deeply.
By the time he was finally forced to hand over the key, it was already far too late. The ship, with all hands on board, had sunk into the maelstrom of the towering waves, and the Windsbraut laughed mockingly over the city walls.
And even now, whenever a storm approaches from the north-west, the waves crash against the dyke, the air groans and moans, and the winds howl and wail, one can see, in the pitch-black midnight, a ghost ship rushing towards one in a bluish glimmer of light. You can hear the clatter of the ropes, the clanking of the chains, the captain’s shouts and the blood-curdling, bone-shaking cries of fear and death from the dying. One should say a prayer for those poor souls, so that they may find a little peace and not take you with them.
Sagen und sagenhafte Erzählungen aus Ostfriesland. Gesammelt und bearbeitet von Fr. Sundermann. Aurich 1869, S. 34f.
Also, the mean-spirited anons directed at Simon did not help this morning since I was trying to recover from an anxiety attack caused by work. I'm pretty certain people don't like my portrayal of Simon and likely see me as a no-fun rper. I don't know. Simon's happy living in the world of Subnautica. He's just vulnerable at the moment.
It's storming outside, I've had about 5 hours of sleep, and my stress and anxiety has returned about work. I really really don't know what to do anymore and I'm too tired to cry.
I am so grateful to have watched Master and Commander last night because it brought a lot of happiness to see it again.
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