I heard they're planning to maintain their levitation rites with autonomous constructs from now on, saying wizards are going to be totally obsolete within the season... so, ah, I'd invest in falling island insurance.
Ngl i now low key can’t stop thinking about lux opening some personal settings tab (just floating next to him), and without breaking eye contact hitting the transparency slider to 0. It really does sound like something he would do. The doctor probably wouldn’t even question it anymore he’d just be pissed like “Do NOT leave Lux oh my god there he goes”, he’s so done with his partner’s bullshit by now.
It’s better than the one gif of the dude making a peace sign and fading away.
I already had a 'most light isn't on the visible spectrum' gag lined up but I am like. now i gotta get this into the story somewhere
I wanted to try and play around with the language barrier a little for the Apocalyptic Ponyo AU (@keferon) Jazzprowl.
English isn't my native language, so there might be some grammar mistakes. Hope it's ok :D
————
Muffled cheering echoed as Ricochet swam circles along the sides of the pool.
Once, twice, slow to a stop by the shallow. Let Rose (who's never smelled like the flower) climb off him– don't help her up, don't move away– before her whistle rang out for a second.
Swim another circle around the perimeter.
Whistle.
Roll to side, splash some water into the air with his tail for some extra flair– aw there's some kids here!– Salute the kids. (Very important. Look at them, they're jumping.)
Whistle.
Go under, finish the loop, and go through the opening gate that’s mostly hidden. Ignore the bar snagging his fin (ow) and keep going as the announcer wraps up the show. Second gate opens, swim through the public aquarium, salute those kids there (they look so squishy..) annnd through the third gate.
Out from the public, out from the show. Ricochet enters the somehow over bright training room and finally stops moving.
His back hurt.
Nothing against Rose, she tries to be careful while on him, but you can only swim around the surface so many times with someone standing and sitting on your back, as well as hold someone up by their feet while the only thing below you is more water, before things start to hurt. Not exactly easy keeping himself from sinking while acrobatics are happening on him.
The show was the last of today, meaning (after confirming that the noise is quieting down,) that the aquarium is closing.
He could really go for a nap right now.
A click echoed out through the white-tiled room before the door squeaked open.
Rose came in with a new bucket of fish– wait there's red in there. Is he gonna get crabs?? Did he do that good??? Oh hell yeah he's getting some Crabs!!!– Ricochet quickly swam to the shallow end of the pool, earning a hearty chuckle from the lady.
"You did great today Rico, so I brought you your favourite. Up!"
The whistle's shriek was mostly drowned out over the water splashing loudly from how quickly he pushed himself into the deeper end, going low before jumping up high with all his might– swiping his treasure from the air in time– before crashing back into the depths.
Rose's laughter reverberated through the water and his chest, soon to be joined by the sound of crab shell snapping loudly in his mouth. Teeth crushing the plating apart easily, to get to the soft meat within.
"Slow down or you'll choke again!"
Rose said, handing him two fish (boo) that he bit the heads off while trying to reach for the bucket. He can hear that plating clanging against the metal, you can't fool him.
Rose, the cruel woman that she is, jumped away before he could steal it from her.
"Hey now! If you're gonna be that greedy I might not give you the second crab after all."
How dare you. He was the bestest and prettiest boy today, he deserves that second crab.
Give.
".....oh.... Alright, alright... Stop sulking in the water you big oaf. You know you're too cute for me to say no."
Damn right he is.
Finishing the rest of his fish, he swam up to the shallow end again, mimicking the “grabby hands” he's seen some especially little kids do. And just like with the babies, Rose gives him what he wants. His well deserved crab.
Best thing in the world.
He should watch the kids more often when he's not doing any shows. They have so many tricks to get what they want successfully, aside from downright theft.
Though he's pretty good at that one, too.
-
Rose said something about a new neighbor while she left. He didn't really care, he was too busy eating.
With the fourth and fifth gate open, he swam into his "bedroom," gate five closing as soon as he got through.
Low light, old walls and tiled floors with nothing else to say about them, other than the quiet rumbling of a machine far below. Maybe he should decorate the space some more. Add another few scratches to the growing collection inside of this box.
He's been making sure to let his nails grow out a bit, lately, after having worn them down until they were blunt nothing's. So he could.
Not like there's anything else to do.
Jazz doesn't feel like moving.
…
Probably not.
He should sleep.
...
..or not. Apparently.
Whoever his "new neighbor" is, they've been moving so much the water sloshing against the walls could be compared to ocean's waves at this point. How's he supposed to fall asleep if there’s so much noise?
Rude.
"{Hey can you stop?}"
Jazz drawled. All of his neighbours throughout his life have really improved his English, he must say. When he first tried talking he sounded like that one man with a swollen tongue after some insect bit him. Now? He mostly just sounds like someone with food in their mouth.
Not li-
A shower of water flew over the thinner, dividing, wall and to his side– some plashing him in the face– interrupting his thoughts.
"{Okay that's even more rude than you making a whirlpool over the-.}"
Water was flung over to his side along with some snappy short-but-fast clicking.
Bitch???
Two can play at that game.
Turning on his stomach, Jazz swam two or three meters away from the wall with left behind drops of water crawling their way down to his pool, before angling himself to be right in front of the area where there's the most dripping down.
Quiet as a mouse, his tail dips low below, before catapulting water up with enough force to almost make him summersault.
Water rushes up and over and– score! A disgruntled buzz?- no, sonar– low enough to sound buzzy– tells him he hit the dumb fish that decided to refuse him of his beauty sleep.
He waited for the water to be chucked over the wall in retaliation, but nothing happened. Fishy gave up so soon already?
Boring.
Oh well.
Maybe he can finally sleep now.
…
...
...ok what the hell.
First he couldn't sleep because the neighbor was being rude, now he can't sleep because he got what he wanted?
It's too quiet. No– It’s as quiet as it always is, and as it’s supposed to be.
Why can’t he sleep.
Rolling around a few times, leaning against a corner, counting whatever sheep are supposed to be, hugging his tail– Nothing is helping.
Jazz huffs, letting go of his tail with force, spraying a row of water on the (not neighbour’s) wall.
(See how polite he is?)
Ricochet won two crabs but at what cost. (His sleep, apparently.)
With a groan, Jazz eyed the sixth gate. His neighbor's door, technically. Technically also the first gate and not the sixth. It really depends what direction you start from.
It was closed, but the keepers must've put up some sort of....... Thing. Over it. He can't see the other side.
"{Hey fishbones, you shy or feral?}"
Water curled from something– a tail?– dipping. Jazz waited. Eyed the wall for water to fly in, but the other’s tail stayed under. By the sounds of it, the fish submerged completely.
Jazz approached the... net? under water. Tiny metal wires woven together like fabric, covering the gate.
If he pressed his face against it (ow-) he could see into the other room pretty well.
It’s as empty as his. And actually used to Be his, before he decided he liked this box more.
Walls barely decorated at all. Only one or two scratches around, but those are the older ones from his previous neighbours (his ones were filled and painted up.)
This one hasn’t done anything to the space, as far as he can tell. Or he has, and it just so happens to be on the wall that the gate is a part of.
He’s apparently also very determined to stay out of Jazz’s sight. Jazz had only seen the white end of a tail-fin for a second before the new guy moved even further out of sight.
Rude. Jazz just wanted to say hi.
“{Knock knock. You home?}”
No water shenanigans. Guess neighbor boy isn’t in the mood to splash him for talking, anymore.
He can feel the water swaying again. A harsh swish audible every seven or so seconds.
That guy must be really antsy about being in there. Doesn’t sound like he’s small… maybe around his size? Larger? Pacing incredibly fast. Powerful tail.
Been a while since someone else larger than him was brought here.
For a moment, Jazz considered talking some more, since he has nothing better to do and the other guy doesn’t seem to like it. (Doesn’t even appreciate the effort that goes into mimicking human sounds under water.)
But without a body to watch or the guy chucking water over the wall anymore; there’s no real fun in it.
…
Well. Might as well play nice. It’s been a few years since he’s had a neighbour, and even if they don’t seem to understand anything he tries to communicate, he’d rather not lose the new company only a few days after getting it.
Swimming back to the water’s surface– the guy paused his swimming for a second– Jazz laid on his back. Taking the moment to breathe for a bit, running thoughts through his mind.
Neighbour probably wouldn’t like any songs Jazz had learned from his stay here. Too unfamiliar, right? Right.
There is one song he knows… well, two actually. But it feels wrong to share the other one, (why?-) So there’s one song he knows that might help.
Jazz can only guess where he heard it from.
It’s….. Comforting. He knows that.
Always thinks back on the song when the need to start biting the bars or bashing his head against the wall in this place got too strong.
Swimming slow circles, Jazz dipped just a bit lower into the water to make sure the sound travels properly, and starts with the low note. Drawing it out before flowing into a higher one with some klicks in between.
Why did he actually stop singing this song?
The sound echoed all around him. The water making him live in the song itself.
Strong arms holding him snugly.
Repetitive, slow, calming.
Right.
This was a lullaby.
When was the last time he held a hand much larger than his own?
Okay no need for those- Stop- Put those thoughts away. He’s supposed to be comforting the new guy (who stopped swimming,) not wallow in his own head.
One note to the next, the song gets strung together like connecting rivers that he’s occasionally heard about. He’s a bit rusty in a few places, not having made these sounds in a while, but the song is still beautiful. It’s what would’ve been home, if he knew what that was.
Clicking softly, he was about to repeat the song again, when his neighbour clicked something by his gate.
Jazz cracked open an eye (when did he close them?) and looked over, seeing the vague silhouette of hands and a torso.
The neighbour clicked again in a pattern; it sounded familiar. Diving into the water, he could still hear the remaining echoes of those clicks around him. It was odd- it filled him- it was– Jazz knew that pattern.
How does he know?- He’s heard it before- where?-
Pressing his hands against the net(?) Jazz blinked at the sight of blue eyes that matched his own. The gate between the net didn’t let him touch the other fish. (Person?)
His… He clicked again, same pattern from before. Jazz blinked, listening to the echoes of each set of clicks (they came in sets! A structure- A-) Jazz perked up, startling the other a little.
That was! Oh what was that- um. The last bit was “You,” right? How does he-
Jazz pulled back his right hand, circling it a few times while tilting his head, before putting it back where it was. He couldn’t see much, but the other… orca….? Looked a little confused.
One more time, he repeated himself. A little more slowly this time. (Thank god.)
“[Where are you?]”
No no, he wouldn’t ask that, Jazz is in front of him. “Who?”
Is that it? Oh right! “Where” and “Who” sounded similar! "Who" having the last click cut off instead of drawn out. Right!!! “Who are you!!” Oh wait he should answer-
“I…” Jazz looked to the top of the gate, the next word at the tip of his tongue but somehow out of his reach. He huffed a bit, instead putting his hand on his chest.
“Jazz.”
The orca moved his head back a little with slightly narrowed eyes.
“Who are you?”
Does he not believe him?
“Jazz. Me.”
He touched his collarbone a few times, hoping the other orca could see it.
“Jazz.”
“zh- … Zh..aasz…??”
Oh right, English is weird.
“J aazzzz. Jazz.”
“...zh- xh– Jah.
“J. asz.. szzz. ZZ.
“..Jaazz…??”
“Yeah! Jazz!”
He chirped, barely keeping himself from doing a flip out of excitement. Oh he had so many questions! How does he ask them? How-
“Prowl.”
Huh?
“I [am] Prowl. [???] you [?] here?”
What.
“...heeere…??”
Prowl regarded him for a moment, clicking a few times in thought. Not words this time, it seems. Just brain noise.
After a moment, Prowl gestured with his hand for Jazz to get closer.
Though there wasn’t really… any closer he could get??? Other than pressing his face against the net and bars.
Technically he Could open the gate. He knows how. They have this neat lil trick to opening them in case any power goes out. Humans would need their tools to reach it properly, but his larger hands do the job just fine.
Sadly: The staff know that he knows how to do that. And clearly blocked that off as much as possible with the net (that he could definitely tear away but. Any metal thread will hurt to tear open. And he’d really rather not start bleeding on his new roommate.)
So! Shoving his face into the net is clearly the better option!
Thankfully, Prowl didn’t want him to Actually actually shove his face into it, motioning for Jazz to stop a centimeter or so away from the barrier between them, before he himself got close, too. Squinting his brighter eyes at him as if he’s trying to spot if his food had gone bad or not. Prowl started to eventually guide him around, too. Motioning for him to tilt his head down, up, left and right. (What are you, a doctor?) Before he backed off, resting his curled index over his lips.
In the meantime, while Prowl prowled about in his thoughts, Jazz decided to go for an air break before coming back down to the gate. Crossing his arms on the floor and making himself comfortable. Watching the silhouette of Prowl until the orca got close to him again.
“[???] [you?] [?????] ?”
“What.”
The clicks and notes were way off. Honestly he’s not even sure if that “you” was actually a “you.” The simple note that it was made out of before was now that same note! Sure! But ending with a harsh click for some reason.
Prowl nodded with a hum, cocking his head a little.
“How [did?] you [?] here?”
“uh… How… did? I um… here…. Flow? No- no uh. um.”
Jazz tapped the floor, pressing his forehead against it for a moment, hunting that damn word like his life depends on it.
“Come!”
Jazz popped his head back up, startling Prowl again with the movement.
Technically the word he used is “swim,” but he remembers them being the same thing.
“How did I come here?”
“...yes. How did you [get?] here.” Prowl tapped the net, pointing at Jazz. “Northern [??]”
“...nnorthern? What?”
Prowl watched him again for a moment, tapping his sharp claw against the net.
“From [the] north? You? Polyhex?”
“Polyhex.”
A name that crashed through his mind like a bucket of ice down his back. He.. Knows that name. It…
What was it..?
‘From the north,’ Prowl said.
It’s a place. It’s a Place. He Was there. Wasn’t he?
He must’ve been!– But he can’t?– No the memories are there he can Feel them–
How else would he know it? Why would that name alone be a glacier of deep emotion?
“You..! You uhm..” Curse his brain. Remember damnit. “You…..go..? Go.. was? To Polyhex?”
“Once…”
Prowl paused… trying to find the right words? Probably trying to accommodate him. He clearly didn’t have any trouble talking before.
“Work. I was there [for] work, once.”
Jazz was about to try and talk again– he needs to remember– but Prowl beat him to it, furrowing his brow a bit while glancing at the ground for a moment.
“I [??]. “Go” [and] “Was.””
Left hand (“go”) curled into a loose fist while Prowl gestured with his right. Deliberately moving it over and to the left of his fist. (“was”)
A show of…. “Behind”..? No- “Before!” The past!
“[??]
“Go and Was is [??]”
“[Went?]”
Jazz repeated the noise, tail swishing behind him while he used the gate to keep himself in place.
Prowl nodded, repeating the word again in confirmation.
“I went there once. For work.”
He could barely keep a trill from escaping him. He’s remembering them!! He’s remembering the words he forgot!!
Jazz had forgotten just how filling his mother-tongue felt in his mouth. The words were so clear and easy and smooth. He doesn’t have to force the sounds in his throat and nose to come out in specific ways just to say something. He can just Say it! Say everything!
“How did you get here?”
Prowl repeats. Words a little slow to help Jazz keep up with them.
And that sure is a question. A bit too vague to his liking. Now how does he ask for more details…
(no, this isn't a ploy to hear Prowl talk some more.)
“How did I… come here?” Jazz waved to their general surroundings. “What is uh.. No cave, cave? …ssssong?”
“”Song” is [Word.] The word for this [??], for this “not cave, cave” is [room.]”
“Yeah!!”
(He really should stop surprising the other mer with sudden bursts of movement.)
“How did I come here to… to um…. this. To this room?”
He tilt his head, watching Prowl for a moment before pointing to gate number five.
“There. Behind.. this,” Jazz tapped the gate separating them, “is…. not cave. Long.” Similar to what Prowl had done before, Jazz decided charades were needed, and made his left arm bend into an arc before passing his right arm (like it’s swimming) through it.
“Long. Not cave.”
“...
“..[tunnel?]”
“[Tunnel!] Maybe!”
The only thing keeping him from resting his head on his hands again is him continuously using them to form his words.
“Go from here, to tunnel, to uh… room! And then more room.
“The room is like you! Like- like um.. uh.”
Jazz waved his hand towards what he could see of Prowl’s face, clearly only confusing him more than he already was, before remembering that he’s an idiot actually and could use his own body to demonstrate. Curling his tail over his head and pointing to the underside of his fin.
“Like you! Like light?”
The movement made Prowl have A reaction. The net obscured what exactly it was, but he backed away a tiny bit, staring at Jazz’s tail (that he was peeking out at him from below) with slightly wider eyes.
After a moment of silent staring (and Prowl shifting away more,) he shook his head. Waving his hand upward a few times until Jazz stopped curling the tail over himself. Only then did he speak again.
“[White?]
“The room is white?”
“Uh, yes!”
At least he assumed Prowl understood and that the word he used was the colour and not something else.
Speaking of– Prowl shook his head again.
“No-”
He blinked, lowered his head and shoulders a millimeter, held up a hand and went up for some air– Wow he swims fast– returning almost immediately. (Did he even breathe??)
“Do you [re-] …
“Do you know, how you got here. [From] Polyhex.”
Ah.
“Nuh-uh.”
If he blinked a second later, Jazz would’ve missed the tiniest narrowing of Prowl’s eyes.
“I am- uh. Uh..
“Hm.”
Jazz closed his eyes, covering them with his hands too for good measure, before undoing his actions with a very slight dramatic flare.
“That..? I was… arh.…”
“[???]”
“Huh?”
Prowl eyed the gate and its net before regarding himself.
Pushing himself over to almost be touching the wall next to them before curling up. Resting his head on his crossed arms and closing one of his eyes, keeping the other on Jazz.
“[Sleeping.]”
He repeats.
“Ah! Um um!! Yes? No? That, but… after! When light.”
Jazz pointed up, where the sun would be if it weren’t for the ceiling. And if it didn’t probably set by now.
Prowl followed his motion. Coming out of his position and going back to how he held himself before. Perfectly replicating the pose he had, somehow.
“...[Woke up?]”
Spoken, unintentionally, softly. Jazz could almost hear– feel a “did i wake you up?” wash over him.
What?-
(who?)
“a-Ah yeah! I uhm. I.” Not important right now. “I woke up. Here.”
Prowl hummed again, glancing away while thinking, probably. Jazz seized the opportunity to feel his (rapid) heartbeat in his chest.
His body felt wrong.
He needed to remember.
Crossing his arms and forcing his body to look relaxed, Jazz laid his head on his arms. Tilting it slightly, watching.
(If only the net wasn’t there.)
“What..? uh…” He doesn’t have the words he needs. “....how is uh. Polyhex?”
Prowl blinked at him, ripped out of his thoughts to process the question, and Jazz’s change in position.
“..It is [??] [?]. The [???] …. [??] ? Hm…
“...
“The… “rooms” are [????] nicely. More [?] are [going?] there, [which] [??] is and isn’t [???].”
“Ah.. really? That’s uh. Good to know.”
Jazz smiled easily, as Prowl hummed before talking some more about Polyhex, getting faster and using even more words he couldn’t understand at all. “About Polyhex,” well, probably. Prowl hadn’t explicitly brought up the name again so he could only guess that Prowl is still talking about (his home?) that place, since that’s what Jazz had asked him about.
What could he be rambling about while answering “how is Polyhex?” The economic state of the place?? Come on, now.
Jazz sighed. He really needs to remember.
“{Welp!}”
Jazz stretched– cutting off Prowl before he started another intelligible sentence– moving away from the gate a little.
“It’s uh… stars. time.” That works. “Sooo… we {should} sleep.”
Prowl hesitated a little, lifting his hand for a moment before putting it back down and offering a nod.
“It is [??]. “Stars time.” [Night.]”
…
“Sleeping isn’t a bad [idea.]”
“Ok, good! Uh. Bye-bye, then!”
With a wave, Jazz swam into the middle of his room again, laying on his back while staring at the turned off lights. Offering a small wave to the camera nestled in one of them.
“...
“...Good night.”
Prowl offered, quietly. Before- by the sounds of it- swimming to a corner to try and sleep.
A good hour passed before Prowl finally fell asleep. Jazz was tempted to go out into the aquarium, but didn’t want to risk waking up Prowl with his movements. So he just stayed where he was.
Staring at the same ceiling.
The faint hum of machinery from below the floor being his only company, as his eyes roamed over the metal wiring over the lights, again and again. Noticing new spots where the painted white had chipped off.
Again and again, over and over.
Until he, too, eventually fell asleep.
————
My writing is so slow... This took me about over a week I think hdhd
I have some snippets written out of a potential part two! If I ever do finish it, it'll probably be weeks from now, though.
Oh, here's a fun fact for you !
There was a beluga whale named NOC (“no-see,” i believe?) that told a diver to get out of the water, once. He sounds like he’s playing a kazoo, if you listen to a video of him mimicking human sounds.
As someone who spends every summer swimming in a river; the “pattern” he’s mimicking is actually very similar to what it sounds like when you try to talk while under water (minus all of the air bubbles coming out of your mouth.)
Oh also, since it probably isn't very clear;
Prowl going from somewhat comprehensible, to not comprehensible in the slightest, to mostly comprehensible when he asked "How did you get here," is because he was switching between dialects :]
@keferon 's apocaplyptic ponyo au has gripped me in a chokehold, specifically lil baby jazz and blaster. ouuhh i love them sm i will be drawing them again and forever <333
Currently completely obsessed with @keferon's mer au right now and I had to try and draw Prowl. Then I read @qcatter's fic "a Dream" and had a severe need to manifest Prowl
Kef's post here, specifically the art at the end, is haunting me. It is fucking with me bad. I wouldn't wish boredom and lack of mental stimulus on my worst enemies, and here Jazz is. Stuck and trapped.
Aimless.
So I decided to write a little something because OOF. Do you know what it's like to be bored? Constantly? Because I do and it SUCKS.
For @keferon's apocalyptic ponyo au.
There’s nothing to do.
This isn’t anything unusual. Jazz regularly finds himself bored out of his mind every day. He’s exhausted every avenue of entertainment he can and then some. He already knows this human dialect, English, so he can’t entertain himself trying to puzzle out words and letters. The people at this aquarium haven’t given him any toys to mess around with either. It’s always a toss up whether the aquariums he ends up at give him toys or not. He prefers it when they do. It’s demeaning sure, but what isn’t in his situation? At least with a beach ball, he could do SOMETHING. It’s night and usually, Jazz would escape his tank by now to explore the building, but the aquarium was setting up some new policy, something about frequent tank escapes and trying to prevent them. It’s not from Jazz’s end, he’s too good at this by now to get caught, but the octopi weren’t exactly being subtle when they went to throw rotten clams at their caretakers. What this means for Jazz though, is that the aquarium is busy tonight, and there’s too many humans around for Jazz to risk it.
What it means is that there is nothing to do, and Jazz is bored.
Bored bored bored, he is so BORED, there is nothing to DO!!
He bursts into an agitated swim, circling circling and circling, trying to burn off the restless energy, or maybe to get dizzy just to feel something, anything, but he’s done this too many times, it’ll take more than that to get him dizzy. The apathy and numbed anger quickly comes back, stealing his energy and hollowing him out. He hangs in the water, bored.
There is nothing to do.
More notes on being Bored!:
when you spend all day every day almost always always always BORED, you start creating your own entertainment
Jazz zoning out a LOT because there just simply isn't anything for him to do. Sure there's the training and there's the performances and the checkups and the people watching, but they can only take away the boredom for so long.
Oh! By the way, off tangent, but I finally thought up of a reason for why Jazz hasn't tried talking to the humans in an attempt to get them to realize that he's sentient and that he has a home and he wants to be free. Or to get them to make his tank more, you know, hospitable. Or at the very least not claw at the walls inducing.
Uh, simple reason: he physically can't.
Like, merfolk just Do Not have the vocal cords to pronounce human speech.
Humans don't have the vocal cords to copy a lot of noises! We can do a lot, sure, but we can't do everything! I say it's the same for merfolk! The may look like humans, but humans look a lot like mers too, and so I say: while both of them can learn the other's language, they're gonna have a difficult time actually speaking it.
so like, Jazz DOES try to talk to the humans, tries to get them to realize that he's a person and he just wants to go home, please please PLEASE-!
but he is clumsy with human speech and they just think he's like a clever parrot. He has intelligence, sure, but that's it. They think his cries are because he misses his home and his pod, sure, but they also think he's better off in captivity since he is so small and alone. They know better. Poor little orca, so scared and hurt.
But they know better.
It's for his own good.
It's okay because it's for his own good.
ANYWAYS I'm digressing, back to boredom notes.
Jazz loses time a lot. There's just.. so little for him to do. And so little reason to do it. He tries to keep himself busy but sometimes he's just.. tired.
He swims because he's bored of staying still, and then he stays still because he's bored of swimming.
haha, wait, oof, ya boi probably has depression honestly.
He probably gets moments of mania too. You know, ACTUALLY clawing at the walls, throwing himself against the tank because he hates hates HATES how small and cramped it is! How it's only big enough for him to swim in small circles! HE HATES IT
The buzzing in his skin, the restlessness, the need for something, ANYTHING, to make him think, to make him FEEL. He’s going to claw at the walls, this is torture.
The reason why Jazz knows so many human languages isn't just because he was passed around a lot and was exposed to them, it's because he was actively trying to learn them. At first, it was to try and tell someone that he just wants to go home, but when it became clear it wouldn't work, he still kept learning anyways because that way he could overhear conversations, read information from maps and leftover textbooks/papers, and try to escape on his own. Can't escape from the aquarium if he just gets immediately lost once he's outside. (don't think about how he wouldn't be able to escape even if he can read and listen. That path leads to numbness and Jazz has had enough numbness, he needs to focus.)
There's also just.. nothing else for him to do. And if he wants to stave off the boredom and Empty Hollow Fog, then he has to do something.
Honestly, when Jazz and Prowl escape, Jazz is going to have one HELL of an adjustment period outside of just learning mer culture and the ocean world. Going from being bored every day to NEW EXCITING DIFFERENT CHANGES is going to be exhausting. Like, yes, it's all very new and very exciting, and Jazz is going to be a little too preoccupied with staying alive and being terrified to really feel the crash, but man oh man, when there is a lull in all of this? This mer going to crash a LOT.
He's going to have to take a lot of breaks, not just because his tail is weak and undeveloped, but also because he's never had So Much happening All The Time before. It's a lot to adjust to!
(Not that Jazz will let himself have those breaks because uh oh, he's kinda lowkey ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED that Prowl will leave him behind if he can't keep up and Jazz is tired, but he can not go back to being alone.)
Jazz has so many made up games and tricks and stories and music and and and in his head. Because, and I can't stress this enough, there is nothing else for him to do!
And when there is nothing for you to do, you start making shit up because the only other alternative is to zone out and lose time, or hit something. And Jazz gets bored of zoning out too, and the last time he hit something, they restrained him and sedated him, so uh. No. No more of that.
Jazz spent a lot of time tinkering with the locks on his tank and practicing moving himself on dry land. He's gotten good at escaping, and very good at doing neat tricks, like doing pull ups to haul himself up the stairs by using their railings, or waddling over the itchy carpet by lifting his tail in the air and keeping it there, or doing a semi cartwheel where he flips himself head over tails by using his tail to help himself roll over (okay that last one is just for fun but come on, he's allowed to have fun.)
Sometimes, when he gets too good at sneaking around, sneaks around while giving himself a handicap just to give himself a challenge. Is it a good idea? Probably not. But he's so bored.
He's gotten some close calls, but he is now very good at sneaking around.
Jazz watches people, just like they watch him, and makes up stories for them. The lady with the screaming toddler is actually secretly a spy, and the child is their cover story! But the spy lady is regretting everything in her life now. She can hack into any computer ever, but she can not hack a child and tell them to behave. The man lingering by the penguins is staring at them because he's thinking about a lover who was lost at sea! The kid popping bubblegum in the corner has parents who are going through a very messy and very dramatic divorce, and they came to the aquarium to escape the fighting. The lady in the giant hat is having a secret affair!
He is so bored.
Jazz also observes, and notices people. Notices their behavior, their motives, their patterns. The caretaker with the Tuesday shift get nervous with loud sudden movements, so Jazz is careful to be small and gentle when it's his turn to feed him. Because if he is small and gentle, then the Tuesday Caretaker will give him a small smile back and sometimes, he'll spend a little extra time talking to him while feeding him, telling him about his classes or about whatever game he's playing for the week. The teenager regular, who must be one of the staff's kids to be able to come so often, loves it when he puts on a little show, playing up his cuteness, and acting playful. She stays longer when he does so, and that means that she stays long enough to meet with one of the cleaning staff members that she's friends with. THIS leads to them greeting each other, and the janitor leaving his cleaning cart unattended, and if Jazz is verrrrry careful, he can snatch one of the chemicals from the cart before the janitor notices. The night guard on Fridays is lazy and always leaves his shift a little early than he should, which means Jazz has less time to get back to his tank on those days.
Jazz notices it all.
There's little else he can do BUT observe.
Jazz probably fidgets and stims a lot too. Idle tapping of his fingers, splashing his tail into the water absentmindedly, humming notes to made up music, or snatches of songs he's memorized, making nonsense noises to himself, tearing up bits of his environment, like peeling paint or crumbling plastic rock.
He tries to stave off the Empty and the Fog, he DOES, but it doesn't always work. Some days, the Fog wins and he just.. floats. Listlessly. Bored. He's so sick of it all, and he's so tired.
He's heard about depression from the college interns and he's pretty sure that's what he has. Lack of stimulation, isolated, and bored bored BORED. Plus, there's that small deal with him being FUCKING TRAPPED AND HELPLESS TO THE WHIMS OF A PEOPLE WHO DON'T SEE HIM AS A PERSON.
So you know. He's probably depressed. The Empty is probably the depression. Yippee.
The current drifted him into a wall. He startled and clicked. The room was no longer small. It was oval and flat on two sides. There was a floating platform in the center and a bridge connecting it to the shore. The air was a fifth of the room. There was sand on the bottom. A large mat floated nearby, a big rubber ball with a handle. A single fish was cowering under it. On the other side was a glass window that was longer than he was but only just. It had Two hundred and eighteen rivets.
Prowl swam from one end to the other with ten waves of his tail. He coasted through the curve did it again in eight. Once his third lap ended the screaming begain. Humans crowded and filled the window. Small ones jumping and shrieking higher than the one he had mauled. There was another window above the water, just as many humans where there. Prowl pushed and pulled the mat over to the bridge and dove. Lauching himself dead center on it he wiggled until he was hidden under the bridge and sank one set of claws into the mat and the other into the framework of the bridge.
Shaking and drawing in panicked breaths Prowl didn't dare move. Slowly the screams and cries and howls moved away, but only just. They did not stop, nor did they get quieter, but they could not see them.
Prowl wasn't sure how long he layed there, gently quivering. The light did not brighten or dim as time past. The cries of humans and their pups came and went, but never quite stopped. Until finally. A sound chimed, and all the sounds slowly quieted and stopped, save for one that sang from a speaker on the ceiling. The voice would murmer and chatter and exclaim things with gusto before a new voice and a new song began.
Prowl peered out from under the bridge. There were no longer any humans at the window. Sliding back into the water confirmed the same for the one under neath. The fish fled from him. Prowl tracked it as he went to investigate the ball. It was large enough that it had enough buoyancy to lift him, and hooking his arms thro the handle left him float and drift on his back comfortly like an otter. Not that Prowl would ever feel safe enough to sleep with his belly exposed like that, but oh! The fish just hid behind his hammock on the far side by the back shore. Swimming up for a close inspection showed that while far closer to the door than he would like, it was at a proper hight to sleep in still. Hauling himself up and over the edge to explore the dryland he huffed. The door was locked, but Prowl could just about wedge a claw underneath. He had to stop himself from trying to dig. Farther investigation, of what little there was, showed that he wasn't paying attention at all.
The other left side of the bridge without his hammock was sloped and painted with a thick slicker paint and that he had spent a lot of effort making a fool of himself struggling to pull himself up a wall when he could have... well galumped like a seal up the slope and all the way across the room like slightly more of a fool. Seeing how the hammock was on the wall, it likely wasn't supost to be climbed up. There were a couple balls in varying sizes and a few rings large enough for him to swim through. He had not liked those. The sand pit however. It was soft and warmer the deeper he dug, not more than a few inches down he scraped rock, but the rock was hot to the touch. The vent near by blowing hot air over it made it nearly blissful even without sunlight shining down. New favored nap spot acquired, Prowl returned to the water to acquire that fish.
It was just as caught and trapped as he was, but unfortunately for it, it was trapped in here with *him*. Chasing it around for the thrill of being able to do so for the first time in nearly a moon, Prowl slowly started to drift. Just as he passed by it, frozen where it thought it was hidden he twisted and struck out, hooking his fingers through its gills. Cleaning down to the bones and savoring the freshest fish he's had, even if it did still taste off, he paused. Something had clicked.
"Hello?hello? Are you whereare you? Hello?" Whistled out under the sounds of the ceiling speaker. A few more locator clicks followed with a distrested warbling whine before calling out again, "Hello where are I am? you here?"
Diving down to the window where the sounds were louder Prowl froze. Beyond the window was a pathway and on the other side was another window. Staring back at him like an odd mirror was another orca mer. Who gave an excited whistle pop upon seeing Prowl swim up to his own barrier. Grinning gleefully and cheerfully showing off far more teeth than needed in a smile he twirled as Prowl came closer.
Prowl pressed a hand against the glass, politely difting sideways enough to facing but not pointed straight at the other mer.
"Hello, I am Prowl."
"Prowl hello! Hi!" Who proceed to wiggle himself into a near bowed position as his frount sank lower than his tail. Prowl looked in horror at what he had missed from this new mer constantly moving, constantly grinning, the bent dorsal and tail fins, just how thin and narrow his tail was, to the weird thing on his head. Prowl frowned.
"What are you wearing?"
The mer had gone to press both his hands to the glass and was looked to be ready to press his entire body up against it any second, tilted his head and pointed at it.
"Yes, what is that?"
Pulling it off his horns the mer held it out. It still was some... black lumpy thing. Then he swam up to the surface window. He held it up into the air and grinned even wider before he squished it between both hands. Water poured from it like a sponge.
"Is (beanie)!" Slapping it back into the water before putting it on. "Good for you. Keep head wet, good. You here now! They new friend soon and i waited and waited."
"...what?"
"New mer! Wait and wait Long-long no mer. Where here me landwalkers say new mer, new friend didn'tseeyou. You here now!"
This was starting to be the strangest conversation Prowl had ever had with another mer, sure some orca pods had dialects so different as to be entirely different languages, but not like this. Stilted and clipped and words singing into each other like he heard it maybe once. Prowl gave out a string of rapid fire clicky ticks that Bluestreak preferred only to get rapid clicky nonsense back. Prowl frowned before trying again.
"What's your pod song? Who are you?"
Prowl got a flicker of a frown in response before the mer's face soften as he drifted flat and swayed back and forth in the water, crooning out a melody that warbled and *buzzed* with lifts and falls smoothly blending into each other as to nearly not notice when the notes changed. Not one Prowl knew, but more than that, he looked over the other mer. The bent fins, the thinness, the faint molting along his belly were its been rubbed thin over and over till it scarred, to the worn dull and blunted claws at the ends of his oddly thickly padded hands.
"How long have you been here?" Prowl asked softly as if someone might overhear the two of them singing thro the walls.
The smile fully broke as he looked away and muttered out.
"-don't know. I don't know."
For a long moment the two of them hung there, in silence, with only the gentle stabilizing moment keeping them in place, the other mer twisted spirals and back strokes to counterbalance his dorsal. Then suddenly like a switch was flipped he exclaimed.
"Wait stay, don't go *stay*. Warchoutforlandwalkers. Gonna catch you. I go you come here I come! Don't go!! Wait" he waved his hand in a rapid and strange way before pressing his hands and face fully to the glass, flashing a another grin with too many teeth and barreling out with an excited song and whistle.
"I-what- wait where are you going? come back?!" But the other mer was already out of Prowls sight. He looked back into his new prison. "Where would I even go to?" Prowl swam back to the upper window, he hooked his claws on the edge and pulled himself up enough to get a clear view of the other's cell. It was empty except for a few toys bobbing in the water. And a small Fluffy toy orca sitting on the center platform.
"Where did you go?" There certainly wernt that many places to hide in here. Prowl wasn't exactly hidden under the bridge with half his tail sticking out like a pup playing hide and seek. But it was all just too much at the time. But where could the mer have gone. Was he even real? The fish Prowl were eatting had enough drugs in them that he no longer knew where he was, how long he'd been trapped for, or even what time of year it might been. Who knows what was in that mix that might make him hallucinate.
Notes of human noise and song quietly filled the air in the silence.
Was any of this real? Had he even left the small white room with the bright lights and the stains of his own blood. Was any of that even real? Had managing to take only one of his seizure meds in time stop him from snapping his own spine, given him some sort of stroke instead?
The speaker in the ceiling crooned on. A new song played.
The door buzzed. Prowl snapped around to face it. He was not going to let this go on any longer. These humans would learn just why Prowl's kind were feared even amongst other mers.
The door buzzed. He bared his teeth. Prowl may not be well adapted to land, but he didn't need to be in the water to use his tail to launch smaller mammals fifty feet in the air.
The door buzzed and clicked.
It rattled and shoved open partway. The other mer was hanging off the handle before letting go and dropping flat down, his weight slaming the door and bouncing it off the wall. He smirked and began to rapidly bounce and slide his way across the shore like it was slick with ice. Calling out in a weird human warble.
"(They keep changing the pin codes but good old Bob just does four numbers in a circle around the numpad. Terrible I tell yah someone's gonna walk in and steal a manta ray from the touch tank and it won't be me this time. Hey are you OK man? You look like you've seen a shark?)"
Prowl floated frozen. He opened his mouth to say something only to close it. He hadn't finished processing what just happened let alone how to respond to it. What was he supost to say first? What wasn't he going to be questioning here!? He tried again.
"I-you. You're here?" Well that's a start.
The mer paused on the platform, eyeing the way Prowl floated ridged back and flippers shaking, before flopping down onto his elbows with his tail curved around in a half circle to plop his head on his hands.
"HI, I'm here."
"You got out, *you're out* how did you escape? Why are you still here? Why haven't you *left*" none of this made any sense! Prowl must have lost his mind ages ago.
"Can go out, no go where. I go out, go here and here, but all still here. I go out, but go *where?* I escape but where water? Water here, so I stay here."
Prowl paused, that did make sense in a way. They could be miles away from the sea or any water of all. They could even be far far onto land or even burrowed and buried underneath it to the point that draging themselves out of here would lead them to their death without any threat to them but the shear lack of habitat. Prowl stopped.
"Are you real?"
The mer looked at him, tilted his head and seemed to think about that.
"Am I *real?*"
"Are you?"
"Are you real?"
"*YES*"
He mouthed it to himself a few times, like a puzzle piece he knew fit together if he could turn it the right way. Suddenly he reached forward. Slapping his hand down in frount of him he yanked and flung himself into the water at Prowl. Prowl jerked back and back tailed for space only to end up halfway to being on his back with a face full of mer. Hands outstretched and wrapped around the other mers hips to prevent them from being belly to belly their tails brushing as Prowl was forced to keep them buoyant. The mer that swam out of Prowl's worst living nightmare, who'd been living through it longer than Prowl could imagine. Who's existence took everything a mer was and twisted it into a warped being where everything about him was *wrong*. Slowly and carefully reach out, unheedng the claws digging into his flesh. Gently cupping his warm leather hands around Prowl's face, as if his dull claws where even a possible threat or capable of harm. As if *Prowl* was some soft fragile thing to have come out of a dream long given up on and was everything wished for come true and could be broken as easily as breathing too deep and waking up.
i hate tumblr it hates me, and nothing posts ever.
on that note i was up all night haunted by Mer prowl who has seizures instead of crashes and wrote this whole thing out on my phone and it's 6 in the morning now help.
why are word limits a thing even with readmores!!!>
prowl is in a horror story while jazz waits eagerly for his buddy cop escapes heist can start.
(prowl is in actual hell as an angel meeting a demon who's twisted like a horror funhouse mirror until he's barely recognizable as the same thing as you once.)
@keferon like a cat bringing a dead fish.
Prowl sighed, swimming through the bright surface waters. The chances of closing this missing persons case were *abysmal*. Nothing to go on, not even a clue to just when he went missing. Tracking down a missing mer through word of mouth out in the wilds from half (and sometimes full) feral mers. The case was cold long before it had been handed to him. Missing for possibly an entire moon before someone noticed and reported it.
Prowl breached for a moment to get a lung full of fresh air and to scan the rocky coastline. The leopard seal mer he encountered had been more concerned about Prowl leaving their territory than giving anything approaching general directions, let alone *accurate* ones. Swim that a way for a day, zig zag through that reef, and the island with a bay that has a rock jutting out of the water that looks like a shark had a mer *cliff jumping* from impossible highs and landing into the reef a hundred feet away.
Completely insane and utterly deranged if not for the fact that Brainstorm was in fact, a flying fish, and was last reported working on upgrading his water pulpusion jet swim assist to work in the air. Not that he could have been leaping off of these cliffs. The shear drop made them unclimbable, let alone from the bay as the slope would be utterly exhausting to drag oneself up the - oh, that rock *does* look like a shark. Well nobody said Brainstorm was anything but incredibly focused on his projects. It did not change the fact he was not here *now*, and likely and run off after whatever flight of fancy he got caught up in.
It better not be humans again. The wildlife laws protected them from getting captured or experimented on, but some mer alway got it in their head to mess with things better left alone. Humans were dangerous, known for catching and killing massive amounts of sealife, from shrimp to great whales. Rather ironic, as Orcas such as Prowl had a similar reputation. A supposed genius like Brainstorm surely wouldn't have... he absolutely saw a boat or a human splashing on the shoreline and had to go poke it.
Giving a few loud clicks to map out the shoreline. Prowl checked it against the list of human habituated island. This one wasn't, but a boat migratory routed passed within a few miles of here. Prowl couldn't help but grin to himself. It might not be the best lead, but it was one that didn't involve speaking with witnesses that didnt want to talk. Soon Prowl would be able to find what little tide pool Brainstorm had gotten himself stuck in, and get back to civilization.
Lightening flashed across the night sky, Prowl flinched back below the surface, blinking away pain and blind spots. The very air felt heavy, pressing down like the deep sea crushed organs. Every time he went up to breathe it felt more like drowning. Flipping back under the boat he hooked his claws back into its' belly plating. From the tips of his fingers to the ends of his tail, he *ached* . City patrols at least had time to rest. Trailing boats at a distance during the day was tiring, but at night it was child's play. Humans could spot a whale breach halfway to the horizon when it was light out, but would miss him right under their noses the moment the sun went down. The sea and storm rolled, and Prowl let it rock and cradle him against the boat. It was nostalgic. Comforting memories of being pressed against his mother's belly while resting growing muscles from endless swimming. Water going from fighting every moment to easing soreness when you gave in and drifted. His claws were numb. The ocean pulled, the humans howled and chattered to each other over head. The air was heavier than the sea and hurt to breathe, hurt to *think*. Waves crested and caught the light of their lanterns, shattering it in the water like glass. His hands started to shake. The boat screamed a horrible screeching hiss as the humans all barked at it, a terrible symphony with the song of the storm. His aching tail went tense and stiff and his fins started to uncontrollably tremble. Prowl shoved himself away from the boat and let sea hold him in its' imbraise as he fought his own muscles to grab ahold of his pendant. The chain snapped but he managed to click the dispenser twice. Shoving the two oily pills into his mouth he struggled to swallow past his swollen tongue. One popped under his teeth filling his mouth with greasy oily bitterness. He gagged. A fresh mouthful of salt water washed some of it away. Tasting salt, medication, and blood he finally managed to swallow as the waves rolled him against sand.
Everything hurt.
It was dry. The light was too bright. A howling barking collection of seals wouldn't shut up. Each noise sending stabs of pain into his head as they got closer. Something shuffled in the sand near him as a wave of water poured over him. Something was touching him. *Hands* were touching him! With a sudden jerk as he was rolled over, Prowl awoke.
Hands were holding his face as water was poured over scrapes and gashes along his body. Blood trickled over fingers with dulll blunt flat claws as it leaked from his tongue. A human face swam in and out of focus, muttering sounds and pointing tools. It frowned at him. Then starting barking orders before clicking a light and shinning it at directly into his eyes. The pain blooming from his eyes into his skull had him thrashing as humans shouted and pulled on top of him in an effort to pin him down. Vision blurred and spotting left him defenseless as a sudden pricking bite hit him and he knew no more.
Prowl awoke in a white void.
He drifted in the center.
The water tasted of salt, clean, empty and wrong. Clicking sonar showed that it was a small room. Two thirds water, one third air. The walls were flat and empty, as was the floor. Save for vents and light. Surfacing showed the oddly high ceiling to much of the same, save for a small flat shore and a door. Flipping to dive Prowl stopped. Floating facing the floor, Prowl reached out and touched it, then stretched his tail. It breached the surface. One, two strokes of his tail as he swam to touch wall to wall. He turned.
One, two.
Less powerful stokes let him do it in five. Swimming in a circle had him scrapping against the sides unless he went carefully and slowly. Even the air was wrong. It stank of oils and grease and chemical and fish and ranked of animals. Purgatory may have been aptly named.
A click and a clang. Prowl surfaced. The door on the shore opened. Two humans entered, grinning and chittering to each other. One stayed back while the other approached with a bucket of fish. Prowl stared, silently and flicked his tail in line order to face it directly. It placed down its' bucket and bent down on its' strange legs and smiled at him. He bared his teeth back. He was already cornered and caught, he refused to back down. Prowl was a killer whale, he would not shy from this thing. It grinned and begin wave a fish taunt him with it. He lined himself up slowly, holding eye contact as he floated perfectly still and perfectly pointed straight forward unblinking.
The human rose, and began reach for the bucket. One, two. Prowl burst from the water and sank his teeth into flesh. The taste blood and fat filled his mouth as screams filled his ears. He held it down. Digging his claws into loose false skin until they pierced the true one. Nothing Prowl caught ever escaped from him. Something popped and pain popped against his side. Throwing himself off and back into the water he yanked the little anemone biter off of himself. It was a needle. The lights rippled and the voices swam. Prowl... drifted.
Prowl awoke in a blank white room.
He floated in the center. The water tasted of salt, clean, blood and *wrong*. The room was small, barely more water than air. The air smelled of chemicals, burning the inside of his mouth as he scented it. The flat shore recked of it. It was empty expect for a few stray drops of blood and an over turned bucket of fish. Beaching himself, Prowl drug himself painstakingly slowly, one hand at a time, over to the door. The handle refused to turn. Slaming himself against the metal only left him with bruises. After chipping his claws to till the quicks bled he finally stopped screaming. Instead he turned back to the fish, dragging himself back and begain to pick through it and began picking the bones clean. Nearly all were un prepped and raw, save one. A small mackerel had a small slit cut in it. He swallowed it whole and gagged as the trace bitterness of meds bit his tongue and desperately tried to keep everything he ate down. He failed. Leaving the mess and the pile of bones Prowl return to the pool.
Prowl awoke in a small white room.
He floated lopsided in the center. The water tasted of salt, clean and wrong. His fins were scraped raw. Paint had been chipped from the walls. (One, two, wall) Faint brown stains left where ever the water did not reach. Prowl did not remember making the fourth one. (One, two, wall) The lights were too bright. They never fully went out. (One, two, wall) Some machinery thrumbed and throbbed in his head. He ached. The door buzzed and clicked. A human brought a bucket of fish inside and left it on the flat beach. His fins shook. The door closed and clicked. Prowl pressed his face into a corner and tried to block out more light with his hands but then the sounds roared louder. He seized.
Prowl awoke in a dim dark room.
He floated in the center peacefully. The water tasted of salt, clean, and wrong. The spot where they injected him was sore and inched. His hands were sore from scraping them against the rock. His belly hurt from dragging it on the ground. The lights brightened. The door buzzed and clicked. A human came in and slowly tossed fish in frount of him one by one as he ate them. He left the bones on the bottom of the pool. The fish tasted wrong. The door closed and clicked. The lights stayed on until he fell asleep.
Prowl awoke in small white room.
It tasted of salt and the waste and remnants of fish and wrong. He flicked a bone at the door. It hit dead center. The door buzzed and clicked. A human came in with a bucket of fish. It tossed him a fish. He ate it. It tossed him another one. The next went high and he caught it. It threw the fourth into one of the corners. Prowl didn't even turn to look as he stared the human down. The human sighed and tossed another just over his head. He had to reach up to catch it. The human grinned. It tossed the next one even higher. Prowl had to halfway breach in order to get it. The human howled and chattered at him. It started swinging a fish back and forth before launching it straight up. Prowl stared the human down without moving a muscle while the fish landed with a plop a few feet behind. He did not move. The human did not throw anymore fish. Prowl shoved the bones into the filtration intakes.
Prowl awoke in a clean white room.
He floated calmly in the center.
The water tasted fresh, of salt, clean and wrong. There was a hammock hanging in the water. It felt familiar. Prowl wasn't sure if he had ever seen it before. He swam into it. It wasn't soft, but it was sturdy. A familiar dark kelp green that perfectly cradled his body with holes for him to fit his flippers in. The hammock was too low in the water for him to comfortly lay with his head above water. With a long suffering sign he wiggled and twisted around till he was sitting up enough to lay his head on the metal pole. The frabic was rough and hurt where his skin was soft and sore, but it was the softest thing in this room and he missed his at home. Where he wasn't trapped and could cook his food and turn the lights off all the time and sleep in a soft woven hammock properly for hours at a time rather than constant small naps. The door buzzed and clicked. A human came in holding a bucket of fish and a long stick with a ball on the end. It stopped and stared at him. He stared back. It wailed at him and began chittering in annoyance. It waved a fish. Then tapped the other side of the shore with the pole. With a sigh Prowl pulled himself from the hammock and gave a gentle swish of his tail to reach over and grab the fish. The human tapped the hammock and dropped a fish on it. After Prowl wiggled back onto it the human tapped its stick on the other side of the room and waited. Prowl went over and tapped the spot. It was almost like a form of communication. Maybe if he could manage to get something across besides bared teeth and lunging, were clicks and whistles weren't. Prowl tried tapping. The human just handed him his fish and tapped a spot way up on the shore. This was the stupidest thing Prowl had ever done. But unless he went where they tapped, it would refuse to give him the fish. Nothing was working. Attempts at tapping and placing his fish down, throwing the fish and draging him self over to it and tapping, tapping and leaving to see if the human would go there. Nothing! Tired and with his belly scrapped raw Prowl rolled off the shore and unto the hammock and wiggled until he had his head pressed up against the side. The human babbled at him and tossed him a few extra fish. Prowl threw his own arm over his face and for the first time, managed a deep sleep.
Prowl awoke in that hammock with the worse crick in his neck and waist from where he was bent over himself. He slept on the shore the next day.
They took the hammock.
Prowl awoke in a small white room. He floated just above the bottom. The water tasted of salt. He wondered if it was worth surfacing. The door buzzed and clicked. A group of humans came in. They brought the hammock back and set it up. One tapped it with the pole. Prowl swam in. It handing him a fish and tapped the pole again and handed him a second one. The hammock lifted from the water and Prowl struggled not to squirm as he was held in the air. Hands brushed along him through the frabic and down his tail. One pair grabbed his fin and pricked it with a needle. Just as suddenly they backed up, barked at each up and lowered him back. They gave him the rest of the bucket and left him there. Alone, in a hammock. This time it was high enough to layout and rest his head. Prowl slept.
Prowl awoke in a Hammock in a bright white room. It was the only thing in there besides himself. The lights pulsed. He drug himself to shore and shook stiffly through his seizure. He stared fixed at the one brown splatter of dots on the wall that looked like a fish hook. The door buzzed and slammed opened and humans rushed in and started pawwing at him. They shoved him down and rolled him into the hammock and lifted him through the doors. Frozen and shaking he watched. Down halls and past many doors until they reached a room that smelled so strongly of chemicals he could taste it through his blood. The humans frantically yelled and barked until finally after one of the needles they jabbed him with made him black out.
Prowl awoke In a small white room
The fish tasted different, but in a familiar way. The bitterness matched that of when he would bite through his perscription. The water still tasted wrong.
Prowl drifted and awoke.
The humans would try to make him follow the pole where they tapped it, and jump for his fish. He often would not. It was easier not to but there wasn't enything else. There was nothing to do but drift after listening to his own screams ringing in the silence.
Beautiful. The composition. Colors. The lamp. The fact that the photographer managed to make the moon look GOOD (not all cameras and photographers can achieve that).
Short version is that Pluto is a later name for the god of death, which is often associated with the Roman era/Roman mythology. Hades is the earlier name.
I made this post thinking I knew what kind of fire I was playing with. Hephaestus, God of Fire, looking upon me from his fuck off tower or whatever said “Oh you think you know? Check this shit” and promptly set my post ablaze for everyone to observe
You're basically doing the post equivalent of standing out in a field during a storm with a ten-foot copper pole, you better hope Zeus is busy hiding from Hera.
