the siren’s song ♫
♣ || Sam had lived here, in this town, for his entire life. The small town had sustained him for quite some time, letting him stay in solitude. He never knew his father, but he had lived in the town until his mother passed when he was 16. After that, he took the savings he had collected from working by the docks, and found a small shack on the beach for himself, effectively distancing himself (if only in spirit) from the house that contained all his memories of his mother. Over the years, he’d learned wood working, plumbing, and basic electrical work, and had shaped the shack into something worthy of the title “home”.
Now, at age 19, he has something of a regular job. A handy man for the town, and keeping his old schedule keeping job at the docks, kept him busy and money coming in. He wasn’t rich by any means, but he could afford to keep a roof over his head and make his own meals.
He lived in the corner of the beach, near the docks where he worked. A path lead up from the house to the long stone road that fed into town, getting more and more touristy as the businesses became newer and newer. Sam preferred this old sector.
It seems the people who lived here had lived here his entire life.
The boy led a normal, if not boring life. He was unsatisfied, but didn’t have the drive nor personality to be out seeking anyone closer. Friends had long since gone off to college, and he hadn’t been able to follow.
He was alone. And he thought he didn’t mind.
Although, lately, he had stopped thinking that he was so alone. He’d woken up more often than not waist deep in the ocean, effectively ruining his boxers and also worrying him. He had never sleep walked, never in his life. Why was he doing so now?
And he found himself humming strange songs that he had no words for throughout the day, in a range that was much higher than his own. They were beautiful, but how did he know them? The people he worked with, old and superstitious as they were, told him that his tales of “sleepwalking” and “waking up with songs you never heard before stuck in your head” were symptoms of a visit from a siren.
Of course he never believed them, why would he? But later that day, around sunset, Sam perched on a rock, determined to wait this out. If he heard something tonight, he’d be convinced. If he didn’t, well, what’s one more sleepless night?
{ ♥ } || ;; The siren settled there, in the water that the human searched within, where not even human eyes could see. But Jetstorm can. He saw clearly like clear glass, looking at how determined this human was to searching for something. Maybe he was looking for Jetstorm? The siren that almost made him drown? Well, that was understandable… he supposed anyone would be mad when almost drowning due to someone, or something… but that did not change the siren’s fears. He looks up once again, and with great determination, he decides to go up… where the surface was so much different compared to the life down under the sea. And he surfaces with his own tentacles on his face, and he has to brush them away so he did not look so incredibly weird to this human. Ok, breath. He would tell himself as he locked eye with this human, dark eyes astonished at the look of his paler skin and red hair. He does not say a word, no… but he does reach out with a hand.