Though you I see as a bit of a longshot

"You are not bewildered, you are afraid. You dare not walk the path of righteousness, the way of the light." "No, sir, the truth of it be much simpler than all that. I'm a bad man." "That, too.” - Philip Swift to Blackbeard Indie RP -and ask-blog for Philip Swift of Pirates of the Caribbean (On Stranger Tides). Mun is of age, nfsw is hidden under a read more but not tagged. None of the edits/gifs/images are mine, unless stated otherwise. M!A: non, but accepting I FOLLOW BACK ON MY MAIN BLOG ARCHIRIL

[syrena-mermaid]

stilliprayforeverysoul​:

The rattling of the pin drew his attention to the hole in the side of the ship. He used to detest that hole, for it was the one that treacherously let through the icy, wet sea winds during the cold nights, and that threatened to drown him during storms. However, all his misgivings were swept away at an instant, for instead of torment, this time the hole showed him an angelic vision. Flabbergasted, he touched the cross around his neck.

             — “What are you?”

“I’m a mermaid,” she answered. The crush of the waves against the ship seemed to have eerily no effect on her. “And you, who are you?” she asked. She had never met a human before, at least not spoken with one. “I recognize you from the shores of England,” she half-whispered almost sadly, remembering her immortal past. “I watched you there. Please, take it.” She held the pin toward him.  

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

           --- “You recognize me? Have you been following me over the seas? Why?” Was she sent by the Lord, to watch over him? But why would He do so? Philip had long made peace that there was a reasonable chance he would die while roaming the seas. It would have been hubris not to take into account that every man could be called before the Lord, and especially those that challenged the might of the seas. Why would the Almighty have need of a creature to protect one single man, when He held all of their lives in the palm of His hand?

[syrena-mermaid]

stilliprayforeverysoul​:

There it was again! For a moment, Philip entertained the notion the voice was somehow godly, though he knew not what he had done to deserve such an honor. How else could a voice held such power, as to command the sea and the wind to fall quiet and bow down to her soft-spoken whispers?

           — “Who are you?”

“My name is Syrena,” the mermaid spoke lowly over the sound of the surf. Her large eyes peered at him through the hole, from his imprisoned state to the cross hung round his neck, confusing her Pagan heart. “I can help you get out of your prison.” She reached into her hair and pulled out a fishbone hairpin. “Here, take this and pick the lock with it.” She pushed the hairpin through the hole to him. The least she could give him was his freedom. 

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

The rattling of the pin drew his attention to the hole in the side of the ship. He used to detest that hole, for it was the one that treacherously let through the icy, wet sea winds during the cold nights, and that threatened to drown him during storms. However, all his misgivings were swept away at an instant, for instead of torment, this time the hole showed him an angelic vision. Flabbergasted, he touched the cross around his neck.

             --- “What are you?”

[syrena-mermaid]

stilliprayforeverysoul​:

He shouldn’t have been able to hear the mermaid’s mutterings. The cold cell he had become all too familiar with, was always filled with the sounds of the sea as the the Revenge broke the waves, its crew and prisoners fighting against the tides to accomodate its prideful captain.

And yet, in that breathless moment just after he had been thrown in his solitary room - as he had begun to call his cell -, just after the first mate shut the door and wordlessly left him behing in the dark and damp, it seemed as if the winds and the waters and the ship hushed, and the soft voice, previously too soft to notice, filled his cell. Startled, the young priest held his breath, wondering whether he had been imagining it.

Syrena didn’t usually swim out this far to sea, she thought to herself, and would ride the side of the ship back to shallow waters. Swimming against the crushing waves, she grasped onto the side of The Revenge and pulled herself up out of the water as much as she could manage, about halfway. She found a large knothole in the hull of the skeletal ship - from wood rot or canon fire she wasn’t sure - and out of curiosity pushed her face to the hole and peered inside. 

What she saw mesmerized her - a handsome young man, yet upon looking closer, held in bars against his will, by his own kind. The sea-maid, though she often found herself lonely for company, at least had her freedom, she mused. “And no living thing should be trapped in a cage,” she again voiced aloud. Hair swirling in the waves breaking around her, she peered at the luckless prisoner through the hole.

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

There it was again! For a moment, Philip entertained the notion the voice was somehow godly, though he knew not what he had done to deserve such an honor. How else could a voice held such power, as to command the sea and the wind to fall quiet and bow down to her soft-spoken whispers?

           --- “Who are you?”

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

Open

“You are afraid! You dare not follow the path of righteousness, the path of light. You are a coward!”

[syrena-mermaid]

Syrena watched and listened from her hiding spot in the briny sea, hitching a ride on the hull of the ship as mermaids were said to do in tales. “There is no lower thing than a coward,” she said darkly to herself and the passing fish.

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

He shouldn't have been able to hear the mermaid's mutterings. The cold cell he had become all too familiar with, was always filled with the sounds of the sea as the the Revenge broke the waves, its crew and prisoners fighting against the tides to accomodate its prideful captain.

And yet, in that breathless moment just after he had been thrown in his solitary room - as he had begun to call his cell -, just after the first mate shut the door and wordlessly left him behing in the dark and damp, it seemed as if the winds and the waters and the ship hushed, and the soft voice, previously too soft to notice, filled his cell. Startled, the young priest held his breath, wondering whether he had been imagining it.

[tied-to-the-sea-but-roaming-free]

Monsters and Demons {Jack & Philip}

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

“Aye, godless creatures…” Jack echoed, the response far less animated than usual when speaking of beasts and monsters of all variety, which did well in hiding all possible apprehension on part of the speaker. Usually. This time, Jack nearly fell silent again, expression tense and distracted.

“How’s Syrena doing?!” he then spoke suddenly, seemingly entirely changing the matter of conversation, and managing a cheerful, plastered on grin in Philip’s direction. Briefly the man found himself wondering how the mellow-hearted siren was doing after all the time that had passed between then and now. The thought dissolved quickly in the murky waters of the captain’s mind, however, as the urgency of why an ungodly creature such as himself had turned to a biblethumper for help, resurfaced.

Then and now…So many things were different. Now, this seemed like a last resort.

“The thing is, clergyman…Philip, was it?” he continued, suddenly placing every effort into sounding casual, “I may have accidentally…theoretically…ran into such a creature. The godless one, tha’ is, not th’ mermaid…Tha’ is t’ say, I did meet a mermaid as well…Mine, I mean, not yours…No’ tha’ yours is mine…Though I did meet yours…Later…Again…An’ she proved very helpful…”

A rare occasion, but Jack could feel his tongue getting tied up in useless cotton knots. And for once, such a state had nothing to do with spirits.

It was exactly what the godless creature wanted.

The captain halted the leisurely stroll in which he had resultlessly tried to involve the missionary. Now facing him, the pirate let out a pressured, deep sigh in an attempt of focus, fists clenched down by his side.

“It may have been more…direct, than theoretical, the encounter. So is the threat it has led to. I find myself in need of an efficient weapon against a vampire, to protect meself, me crew, and…persons dear to me.”

He had finally done it. He had managed. And all the anxiety returned.

“What say you? What of your Holy Water that I keep hearin’ about? Y’think tha’ would help?”

How the world had changed. A few years ago, Philip would have been frozen to the ground by the mention of vampires. Of course, the Faith would protect him - the Lord protected all who kept Him in their hearts - but vampires were creatures of darkness and of Satan, and there were some obscure accounts of forgotten saints being challenged and slaughtered by those monsters, and Philip was no soldier of Christ. Heaven’s bliss, he had been wounded in a battle amongst pirates after the briefest of moments, forced to retreat to the solitude of the pools - and to Syrena. How could he ever dare to hope to stand a chance against vampires?

And yet, it was not the prospect of facing those creatures that fueled the ice in his chest. It was the utter helplessness of Jack. Jack Sparrow, the pirate with the silver tongue. Jack Sparrow, the pirate who got away with everything. Jack Sparrow, who managed to escape from a deserted island with only one bullet; who managed to outrun the East Indian Trading Company and Davy Jones; who managed to outsmart Blackbeard and his zombie crew themselves - Jack Sparrow, who was now talking more nonsense than before, and, contrary to before, this nonsense didn’t have a point. It didn’t hide a direction, it didn’t nudge the audience into thoughts as if they were their own, it didn’t have a motive. It wasn’t nonsense because Jack wanted to appear nonsensical - it was nonsense because he simply couldn’t keep his thoughts straight, out of worry, or fear, or something else. And that frightened Philip more than anything else could. 

He had to remain calm. Panic would not help either of them. And thus, he tried to follow the pirate’s stream of words, and pulled his face into a friendly expression.

                          --- “Syrena is well. If you want, you are welcome to spend the night at our cabin, where you may meet her again. Though she is often at sea after sunset, I am sure we shall be able to catch her still. She will be delighted to see you.” In all honesty, Philip had no idea how Syrena would react to the pirate, but knowing how kind-hearted she was, he doubted she would show any displeasure she may feel - and perhaps she truly would be pleased to meet another memory. She had been rather melancholic of late.

           --- “We shall eat, and then we may discuss what the Ancients may tell us about these creatures. Holy water might help. I must consult my books. Does your... crew want to join us?”

[archiril]

"So, tell me, lad, how d'you manage t' keep the favour of your lord sailin' with a cheat an' a crook as Blackbeard?" [//Hello]

@nottryingtofindnorth

               — “It is precisely in trial that the Lord speaks to us. If it was His Will to send me to Blackbeard’s ship, it is not my place to doubt - on the contrary, I should have faith that He in the end will deliver all poor souls trapped on that hell’s vessel.” Even Blackbeard’s, impossible though as that may seem now. Closing his worn Bible, the young missionary looked at the sailor that had joined him. Jack’s friend, if he was not mistaken. Another pirate. The Lord surely tried to test him.

                                — “Is He not your Lord as well?” 

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

If he was being honest with himself, Gibbs wasn’t entirely sure he believed the tale himself, although he did prefer the explanation of Jack’s odd personality to those who’d claim he was insane. The reaction was why he told such stories. It was always a moment of joy for Gibbs, when his words affected another person. His vocabulary wasn’t the most varied, and he never claimed to be the most eloquent on the deck, but he found one of the best feelings to be when words that he chose, not for their length or how they made him sound, but rather their impact, were absorbed by his listeners.

“Regret? I don’t know if Jack Sparrow ‘as any room in his mind for much regret… But he’d never leave the waves fer too long. I reckon he’d miss the feelin’ too much. Do you regret your decisions involvin’ your heart?”

                         --- “No.” Philip never was a man of swift answers - or at least, he tried not to be. Contemplatio et silentium.  Mince your words before you speak them. He had never truly mastered that lesson, and it had lead him into many dangers. Even on Blackbeard’s ship, he had not been able to keep quiet when that had been the best option. However, this time this answer was so clear that he did not even have to think about it.

          --- “She saved me. In many ways. I never regret having met her. But what about you? Why do you follow Jack, even to this island? I thought pirates were disloyal by nature.” 

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

Open

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

   shє hαd αlwαчs вєєn gσσd αt rєαdíng mσrtαls, αвlє tσ dєcíphєr thєír íntєntíσns αnd thєír trαíts wíthσut sσ much αs α sєcσnd lσσk. ít hαd sαvєd hєr lífє α numвєr σf tímєs, αnd ít hαd αddєd tσ ít cσuntlєss mσrє. чєt, nєvєr вєfσrє ín hєr lífє hαd shє fєlt such purє jσч єmαnαtíng frσm α sínglє mσrtαl, nσt ín αll hєr jσurnєчs αcrσss thє wσrld. shє fєlt hєr σwn grín sprєαd wídєlч σn hєr fαcє, αnd pєrhαps α вít σf cσlσr rísє ín hєr pαlє skín. shє wαs flαttєrєd, αnd hσnσrєd, αnd σvєrjσчєd hєrsєlf. sчrєnα hαd trulч cσmє tσ lσvє thís mσrtαl míssíσnαrч mαn αnd αll σf hís gσσd, kínd wαчs. trulч, thєrє wαs nσ σthєr líkє hím ín αll thє wσrld. shє hαd вєєn vєrч luckч, vєrч luckч índєєd.    pєrhαps hє wαs ríght, αnd thєrє wαs sσmєσnє up αвσvє lσσkíng σut fσr hєr αftєr αll. ít sєєmєd tσσ lσvєlч α rєuníσn tσ hαvє вєєn lєft up tσ chαncє αnd chαncє αlσnє.    “wєll,” shє вєgαn, slσwlч вut stєαdílч, “mч tєαr wαs prєcíσus. ít díd nσt nєєd tσ gσ tσ wαstє. thє cαptαín - jαck - í cσuld sєnsє hє hαd α strєαk σf hσnσr ín hím. í knєw hє wσuld dσ thє ríght thíng ín thє єnd. hє ís nσt quítє líkє σthєr pírαtєs. hє ís nσt αs gσσd α mαn αs чσu αrє, вut hє ís nσt αs rєpulsívє αs thє rєst σf thє pírαtєs.”    jαck spαrrσw wαs αs wíld αs thє rєst σf thєm, вut hє wαs nσt αs cruєl. hís cσrє wαs nσt αs rσttєn σr vílє αs thє rєst σf вlαckвєαrd’s mєn. hє wαs sєlfísh, αnd hαd nσt dσnє much tσ hєlp hєr, вut hє αlsσ hαd tσ wσrrч αвσut sαvíng hís skín. thαnkfullч, phíllíp wαs σnє hundrєd tímєs thє mαn jαck wαs, σr sчrєnα wσuld hαvє вєєn dєαd lσng αgσ.

                       --- “You have the gift to look into people’s souls,” Philip whispered, carefully stroking her black hair out of her face. She seemed to had the habit of hiding behind it, as if it was a shield to protect her from the world. Be not afraid, little one. I will not let anyone hurt you, as long as I can prevent it. Show your light beauty to this earth. It will become all the fairer by your presence.

           --- “It is a precious gift, you know. You saved Angelica, by giving Jack your tear and trusting he would use it for good. Not many would have done the same. I... I am not sure I would have, had I been in your position. He had done nothing to aid you - but I do think you are right.” Pensively, he lifted his eyes to the horizon. Though he did not like the memories, sometimes it was necessary to go back to them. There had been lessons to learn too.

                        --- “He has a noble streak. He had never seen me before, did not know for what ‘crime’ Blackbeard had me strapped to the mast, and yet as soon as he had the opportunity, he climbed up to free me, even when I told him I would not aid him. Aye, in his heart, he is a good man, and I am happy you saw through his strange mannerisms. You have done much good. But there is something I do not know. After you found me in the pond, and dragged me in the water - where have we gone? I have thought many times about it, but I cannot remember.” 

[archiril]

"So, tell me, lad, how d'you manage t' keep the favour of your lord sailin' with a cheat an' a crook as Blackbeard?" [//Hello]

@nottryingtofindnorth

               — “It is precisely in trial that the Lord speaks to us. If it was His Will to send me to Blackbeard’s ship, it is not my place to doubt - on the contrary, I should have faith that He in the end will deliver all poor souls trapped on that hell’s vessel.” Even Blackbeard’s, impossible though as that may seem now. Closing his worn Bible, the young missionary looked at the sailor that had joined him. Jack’s friend, if he was not mistaken. Another pirate. The Lord surely tried to test him.

                                — “Is He not your Lord as well?” 

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

He grinned, returning the hand shake with slightly more force than was perhaps necessary, before letting it drop to the railings in front of them,  “Longer than most, I’d wager, but not long enough to give y’any advice, other than large quan’ities of rum. Back before I met ‘im, though, I heard legends of him and his ship. He supposedly fell in love with the tides…” Here, he leaned inwards slightly, “an’ in return, they took his heart. Made it as changin’ and overwrought as one man could stand.” Gibbs sniffed, “‘Course, there mightn’t be a speck of truth in it, judgin’ by some of the previous tripe I’ve ‘eard, not too little of it comin’ right from ‘im.”

                        --- “The... tides took his heart?” Only weeks ago, Philip would have brushed off the tale as old sailor’s superstition, one of the many one could hear in the tavern at ungodly hours, when the ale has spilled and all god-fearing folks had long since gone to bed. Now, he found he could not. The tides took his heart. How familiar it sounded! Had Syrena not done the same? She had taken his heart, and in return she had offered hers - and now he was changed forever.

          --- “I hope they have been gentle with him. Do you think he regrets it?”

[archiril]

"So, tell me, lad, how d'you manage t' keep the favour of your lord sailin' with a cheat an' a crook as Blackbeard?" [//Hello]

@nottryingtofindnorth

               — “It is precisely in trial that the Lord speaks to us. If it was His Will to send me to Blackbeard’s ship, it is not my place to doubt - on the contrary, I should have faith that He in the end will deliver all poor souls trapped on that hell’s vessel.” Even Blackbeard’s, impossible though as that may seem now. Closing his worn Bible, the young missionary looked at the sailor that had joined him. Jack’s friend, if he was not mistaken. Another pirate. The Lord surely tried to test him.

                                — “Is He not your Lord as well?” 

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

Gibbs sniffed, and held out a hand, before thinking again and wiping it free of sweat, salt, and perhaps a little rum on his worn trousers. He could not comprehend the man’s apparent total dedication to a force he did not understand. How could he trust his own beliefs so thoroughly, when there was very little if any proof that he was correct? And he found it odd that a man with such righteous a nature trusted in one who, in that man’s own words allowed evil to flourish. “An’ his first mate, occassion’ly, when he’s patient enough t’explain his ideas. Forgive me, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard your name spoken.”

                        — “My apologies. I have forgotten my manners. Philip Swift is my name. I was missionary on the Virgin Queen when it was attacked by Blackbeard and his like.” With some hesitation, the young man shook Gibbs’ overtly dirty hand, but pressed it firmly then. The sailor had done nothing to insult him, and it would not be right to appear to hautain to shake his hand.

           --- “You’ve known him a long time then? How do you manage? Not to give any offense - he is a good man, at heart - but he is very... incalculable. “

[archiril]

"So, tell me, lad, how d'you manage t' keep the favour of your lord sailin' with a cheat an' a crook as Blackbeard?" [//Hello]

@nottryingtofindnorth

               — “It is precisely in trial that the Lord speaks to us. If it was His Will to send me to Blackbeard’s ship, it is not my place to doubt - on the contrary, I should have faith that He in the end will deliver all poor souls trapped on that hell’s vessel.” Even Blackbeard’s, impossible though as that may seem now. Closing his worn Bible, the young missionary looked at the sailor that had joined him. Jack’s friend, if he was not mistaken. Another pirate. The Lord surely tried to test him.

                                — “Is He not your Lord as well?” 

[nottryingtofindnorth]

|| @archiril

“’Only Lord that’s ever taken any notice ‘as been a Pirate one. I’ve seen the innocent suffer, almost suffered myself for crimes I didn’t commit,” He does admit to himself that that particular incident was also the fault of a so-called Pirate Lord, “although my soul’s not exactly… pure. I jus’ wonder why, if he exists, he favours some and leaves the rest of us out to dry.” 

Gibbs was a superstitious man, and had seen more than a few impossible ideas become reality, but there was something about this sailor and his unwavering belief that caused him to question this one.

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

The Lord favors none of His children above the other. He loves all equally, for all are made to His image. The responses appeared quickly upon his tongue, as if they had been present there ever since he had completed his education with the friars - but he found he could not pronounce them, not with the same conviction as he once did. 

If the Lord did indeed love all equally, then why had He made Syrena suffer so harshly? Why had He allowed the cook to be killed so cruelly? Why had He never stopped Blackbeard? Had this been His plan all along, to guide Jack and make him renounce the chance on immortality? The answers he had always taken for granted, laid far beyond his grasp now.

                 --- “I... believe Our Father is good - but perhaps we cannot comprehend Him in all His might. I do not know why He allows evil to flourish. I only know that I believe in Him. You are... mister Gibbs, are you not? Jack’s friend?”

[studiosirena]

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

Closed Starter for *oneofgodsowncreations*

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

   whαt hαd σncє вєєn α quítє líttlє cσvє ín thє σcєαn σf sчrєnα’s quíєt lífє wíth phílíp hαd вєcσmє α rαgíng σcєαn swírlíng ín thє furч σf α tєmpєst.

   shє rєmєmвєrєd líttlє frσm thαt fαtєful níght. shє rєmєmвєrєd thє fєєlíng σf glαss вrєαkíng, shαttєríng íntσ thσusαnds upσn thσusαnds σf tínч splíntєrs ínsídє σf hєr. shє rєmєmвєrєd thє fαcєs σf thє mєn whσ hαd dσnє ít- thє mєn whσ hαd вrσkєn íntσ thєír sαfє líttlє hσusє αnd ríppєd αpαrt thєír prívαtє wσrld. shє rєmєmвєrєd scrєαmíng αt thєm, trчíng tσ mαkє thєm stσp. shє hαd flαshєs σf mєmσríєs σf fíghtíng thєm вαck wíth α knífє shє hαd tαkєn frσm thє kítchєn.

   mσstlч, shє rєmєmвєrєd thαt ít hαd αll вєєn tσ nσ αvαíl. dєspítє hєr vєrч вєst єffσrts, phíllíp hαd вєєn tαkєn. sчrєnα’s prєcíσus lífє wíth hím, thєír ‘єdєn’ αs hє hαd αffєctíσnαtєlч cαllєd ít, hαd вєєn dєcímαtєd.

   ít wαs thє σnlч tímє ín hєr єntírє lífє shє hαd єvєr shєd α tєαr σut σf sαdnєss.     вut, hєr mínd wαs mαdє up. shє wαs gσíng tσ fínd hím. αnd shє wαs gσíng tσ rєscuє hím.

Philip woke up to the smell of tar and sweat. It did nothing to alleviate the nausea that greeted him at the same time. Pushing his forehead against the mold, wet wood of the floor, the young missionary groaned and tried to remember what had happened. Their house... Syrena! Had it all been a dream? Had he never escaped Blackbeard’s prison? No... That could not be true. 

With some effort, Philip opened his eyes despite his splitting headache, and looked around. He seemed to be locked up in some kind of cell, presumably deep in the ship. It was dark and humid here but... as far as he could remember... It was not the Queen Anne’s Revenge, which meant that he had escaped, which meant that all his memories of Syrena and their Eden... That they had been true. 

Where was she now? They could not have killed her. Men could not kill an angel... But she was not here either. Had she been able to escape? Would she be looking for him? He prayed she would not. She had suffered enough... And yet, deep in his heart, he already ached for her. No matter what they would do to him, what they wanted from him, who they were - he would escape, if only to see her one last time again. And thus, he raised his eyes to the sky, and started to pray, and hoped she would hear him.

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

Closed Starter for *sheissyrena*

[stilliprayforeverysoul]

It was astounding how alone she could feel on an island so full of life and laughter. The trip had been a welcome one, even if Syrena didn’t fully understand how a trip to French Polynesia was furthering her education in any way. Something about analyzing the behaviours the mind when it was taken entirely out of its normal routine? Educational or not, her Psychology class and Professor were living in a virtual paradise for an entire month, yet Syrena felt more ostracized than ever.

Her classmates had picked up on her shy tendencies early on in her first year of univeristy, taken the hint, and given her the space she wanted – only now, she wished she had been just a little bit more open and welcoming to others. A friend would be nice.

Syrena passed by a group of her fellow students on the sand, in the process of burying one of them up to their neck in sand. A smile appeared on her face, though no one would guess it, hidden as it was by her veil of hair. She continued past them, following the shoreline in quiet solitude. Her bare toes rubbed against each other to feel the sand stuck in between them. Her eyes moved out to the turquoise water, searching intently for nothing in particular.

Her gaze settled on a shape perched atop one of the sunny rocks. Joy rose in her chest. A sea lion! They were not known for being solitary creatures, but that thought didn’t occur to Syrena as she slowly walked further along the shore, daring herself to get as close to the creature as possible. As she advanced, she quickly realized that it certainly wasn’t a sea lion, not with scales like that!

She squinted, putting one hand over her eyes to act like a visor. She couldn’t actually be seeing this, could she? It was impossible. Were hallucinations a side effect of a mind out of its usual environment? Syrena blinked a few times, trying to clear what must be foggy vision, but each time she reopened her eyes, she was greeted with the same sight. A merman was laid out before her, belly to the sky like a dog waiting for the sun to come out.

Philip noticed something was wrong when the sea stopped whispering.

Silence was a rare thing. In the vast ocean of the Pacific, the waters were teeming with life. Even in the dark depths, creatures survived (though Philip preferred to avoid them if he could - some of the Depth’s inhabitants were terrifying), and the more one approached the shallow beaches, the more colorful and merry the sea-creatures became. Here, almost touching the sand of the Dry, the waves should be eternally crashing against yellow bed, and the small clownfish should race around the part of the tail that was still submerged in the water, lazily moving on the rhythm of the floods.

They did not. In fact, Philip could not feel anything around him anymore... Anything but a disturbance in roaring waves, as if something - or someone - was obstructing them. His eyes flew open. All of a sudden, he felt vulnerable, and foolish. How had he ever thought it had been a good idea to stretch himself out on a rock, so open and visible for all prying eyes? No warmth, no matter how pleasant, was worth this risk. Slowly, cautiously, he raised his head and started to sink back in the water, when he saw her.

Her. The Creature. No one in the sea really knew what they were. They lived on the land for the most part, but sometimes they raced over the surface of the sea as well, and some... some even dove deep into the ocean’s embrace. They were dangerous too. They killed without mercy, and looked only after the slaughter who they had killed - and those they did not need, they just threw back. He should flee - but something held him frozen in place, staring at the Creature, his breathing quick and shallow.

[creaturesfromdreams]

Wonderment by robrey

[ladytedra]

[nupab]

[dailypotc]