#apocalyptic ponyo

[myoveractivewriterbrain]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 17/??

♪~What's my age again?~♬

<<Previous <<The Beginning>> Next>>

Not super happy with this chapter, but the month is almost over, and the story must go on. I hope it is at least it is a little enjoyable.

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"common" {mer} {[common words mix in mer]} (mer/echo Jazz doesn't understand) .: echo-speech :.

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To say that the way yesterday ended and how today began were like night and day was a vast understatement. When Blaster had left Jazz, he was greatly distressed, but this morning Jazz was refreshed and delighted to see him.

"Hey, Blaster!" He greeted as he swam up to the pier and rested on the edge. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," the caretaker answered slowly, still unsure of what to make of this. "You appear to have slept well."

Jazz gave a content sigh as he stretched out and said, "might have been the best sleep I've had in a while."

"Mm," he hummed in response before he looked away towards Prowl, who was floating out at the centre. Blaster then asked softly, still a little worried about Prowl's sudden; but understandable, refusal to eat yesterday. "You think Prowl's going to be up for eating this morning?"

There was a quick moment of chatter back and forth between the mers before Jazz said, "oh, ya. He's hungry."

I'm relieved to see you two are back on better terms, Blaster mused as he began to set Prowl's fish out on a tray. However, between glancing from his task to Prowl, he noticed that the mer's movements were stiff and with the occasional mild twitch, it was very likely in recoil of painful movements. Though it was to be expected, given that Prowl had missed two rounds of painkillers and anti-inflammatories, Blaster was still worried.

When Prowl made it to the pier, Blaster gave him a kind smile, "mornin', Prowl. I'm glad to hear that you're feeling comfortable enough to eat again."

Though Prowl's scowl was ever present, something about it felt more personal today, like he was upset with Blaster in particular. And perhaps he was, without the sedatives he was probably really feeling the stress of the situation that he was trapped in, a situation that Blaster was actively playing a part in. But, it was also possible that Blaster was just continuing to beat himself up over everything.

He couldn't even begin to imagine what this must be like for Prowl. Not just because he was a mer that knew what life out in the open ocean was like, but very little about the shelter being provided here for Prowl was acceptable for an injured animal — not to mention a person.

Towed in on a borrowed flatbed trailer and operated on it in the aquarium's loading dock. No sanitary operating theatre or pools and no way to uphold proper quarantine measures. All simply because they didn't have any space he would fit in.

And even with it being completely against national regulations to have injured animals on public display, the Head Director still pushed to have the mermaid exhibit reopened as soon as possible.

It spoke volumes of how ill-equipped this place was to treat and care for Prowl. It should have been a massive outrage. But there was plenty of bullshit being thrown around; 'we're doing the best we can with what we have', 'we had to save the mermaid', and flowery displays from the Head Director. Not to mention it being paired with the unfortunate location Prowl just happened to wash ashore. It was just enough to pacify most concerns and complaints from the public.

As well as with the National board of Marine Animal Welfare, who also hadn't been able to justify forcing a transfer with Prowl's near fatal wounds. Because the nearest ocean rehab centre that could have taken in a mermaid of his size was over seventeen hours away. A drive; which within the first three days of being found, he wouldn't have survived.

And moving him now was arguably pointless and would only cause more stress of being placed in yet another unknown environment. Along with other additional risks. It was a nightmare, there were so many ways that this situation could have gone wrong had Prowl — and Jazz — been any different.

But it was only a matter of time before it would no longer be enough to keep down the public's outcry. Blaster would make certain of it.

Once the caretaker turned breakfast over to them, he didn't miss Jazz's delighted little wiggle as he inched closer to Prowl. It wasn't much; a bit closer than their usual just-out-of-arm's-reach distance, but it was the first time that Blaster had seen Jazz come within Prowl's space without any reason. Jazz even developed a hint of a mischievous grin, like he had gotten away with something, or he was about to.

Okay, what the hell had happened last night?

Blaster opened his mouth, but then quickly shut it before any words slipped out. No, he wouldn't pry, Jazz had scarcely any privacy as it was. Blaster was going to let him have this.

~~~~~~  ҉  ~~~~~~

Breakfast had ended up being a whole production. With Prowl accidently flipping the tray when attempting to pull it closer, sending the fish catapulting across the pool. Much to the delight of the birds, drawing them in closer at the possibility of free food. Jazz had burst out laughing at first, but then quickly offered to help Prowl collect his meal. Which Prowl firmly refused and went diving for the sunken fish.

It took longer for him to eat, having to search for all of it and resurface a few times to catch his breath. So by the time he had finished eating, Jazz had also finished with his morning checkup.

Blaster turns to speak to Prowl; as much as he could, with gestures that Prowl hopefully recognised. "We're going to remove all of your bandages today and see if you can go without some of them."

Prowl sneered at him, but moved over to the ramp and began to slowly and gingerly get himself out of the sling. He was sore alright, but Blaster reassured himself that the painkillers would be taking affect within the next hour.

Jazz followed him over to hangout in the shallows.

{What colour are you going to get today?} He asked, lounging against the edge of the pier casually — again, closer to Prowl than previous accounts. Something that had piqued Blaster's curiosity once more. Had Jazz just gotten more comfortable around him? No; after yesterday's interactions, the opposite should be more likely. But it couldn't be him just mustering up the courage either, as Jazz didn't show any signs of being nervous. If anything his body language was borderline playful.

{Of what?}

{That, the…} Jazz made a bunch of gestures towards the pink cage around the other mer's arm. {Cast!}

{Ask-} then Prowl hesitated. And for a second there Jazz thought that Prowl was going to finally say Blaster's name, but was silently disappointed when he didn't. {Ask the human, I don't know.}

"Hey, Blaster?" Once his caretaker hummed in reply, Jazz inquired. "What colour is Prowl's cast going to be this time?"

"I was thinking green."

While the colour honestly didn't matter — aside from avoiding blue to prevent the Head Director from using the recording as some sort of twisted publicity insurance — Blaster had, in hindsight, made a tiny mistake. One that had caused the local social media to explode yesterday. All because someone had posted a photo that caught a glimpse of Prowl's cast in the sling.

While the world was steadily moving away from the stereotype. Pink, unfortunately, still meant girl to many people.

So, there was a conspiracy theory going around online about Prowl secretly being female and that the aquarium was going to attempt to start a breeding program for the endangered species.

It seemed it was fifty-fifty on whether people were appalled or excited at the prospect of a future mer pup. Regardless, there was a surge of old photos and videos of when Jazz was just a little pup. Of his arrival, of his first few weeks of recovering from being rescued, of his exhibit debut as the first baby of his species to be seen up close, of his needs for parental care and companionship being exploited for profit.

It made Blaster want to kill someone. But even his voice wasn't influential enough to free Jazz; let alone any other mers, from behind bars.

While things have massively improved for all mers since then, most still looked at those photos and saw Jazz's childhood wide-eyed vulnerability as adorable.

The craze was unlikely to calm down anytime soon, unfortunately. And while his coworkers just thought it was funny or annoying, it ultimately didn't matter if general staff tried to reaffirm the information provided to the public about Prowl. No one would listen to them. All because the directors were going to refuse to make a statement; either seeing the pointless argument that it was or welcoming the free advertisement from the forms and news bulletins that the rumours created. Blaster knew that the Head Director would milk it for all it's worth until they legally had to do something about it.

At least, overall, people were just happy that Jazz was no longer alone. Even if to most of the public eye it currently looked as though Prowl rejected Jazz's company.

"But," Blaster continued, having another thought in mind, "maybe Prowl would like to pick?"

Jazz turned to Prowl, {[Blaster] is asking what colour you want.}

When Prowl didn't react to the question, Jazz had a feeling that he wasn't going to get an answer.

Or at least, it seemed that way at first. {White,} he said, {or black.}

Happy that he made a choice, Jazz relayed his response. Though, it made Blaster pause, because the first thought that ran through his mind was that the public might try to frame it as the aquarium attempting to hide Prowl's injuries. But what if that's what Prowl wanted? To hide his injuries from prying eyes? Prowl already made a clear effort to not show signs of weakness. And honestly, did anyone want their injuries to be gawked at?

In a gesture of empathy, Blaster looked through his stock of medical tape rolls and showed them to Prowl. "Would you like your bandages to be white and black as well?"

He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but Prowl seemed slightly less tense as he answered, {yes.}

Gods, Prowl's level of situational awareness and ability to deduce what he was asking was exhilarating. Fascinating in a way that made Blaster want to see how far that intelligence could take Prowl. Yet equally horrifying in a way that made a shiver run up his spine and his hair stand on end. Blaster was certain that his conflicting emotions were somewhat noticeable even with all his efforts to remain calm, because he felt the way his lip trembled as he smiled.

"You got it."

~~~~~~  ҉  ~~~~~~

While Blaster was a bit more comfortable with being hands on with Prowl, his trust in him was more conditional. And the feeling was likely mutual given how much everything relied on Jazz. Getting into the pool; with Prowl awake and watching his every move, was still nerveracking. But with Jazz's confident and welcoming smile, Blaster didn't falter and walked out to meet them.

Removing the bandages from Prowl's right arm had gone well, he cooperated even though he was still in pain. Something Prowl had done his best to pretend it didn't hurt, but unfortunately for him, Blaster had enough experience to notice. He saw the flickers of pain expressed in the twitching of Prowl's fingers and the subtle squinting of his eyes; which honestly only enhanced the mer's scrutiny despite Blaster's best intentions to be extra gentle.

"You should be fine without bandages on this arm from here on out, the wounds have closed up nicely."

While it would remain tender for some time and it would be a bit longer before the muscles would regain their strength. The new skin was no longer a bright pink, but a dull, pale pink instead as the shallow claw marks were filling in. A healthy sign that it was binding together properly without issue.

Blaster also took this moment to inspect Prowl's claws; which Prowl had jerked away from at first before he very reluctantly returned his hand to Blaster and allowed the exam. A mermaid's claws grew twice as fast in comparison to human nails, but he wanted to keep an eye on their growth. So he would know when to bring in pumice for Prowl; as coral was out of the question. Some mers used it in the wild to maintain their claws, which made it the more natural option for Prowl, but Blaster wasn't going to encourage coral poaching. And despite how much he feared those claws being turned on anyone in the future — Jazz included — Prowl needed them for when he returned to the ocean.

However, when Blaster moved on and began peeling the bandages off from around Prowl's side, Prowl winced as he repressed a hiss of pain. Making both Jazz and Blaster flinch.

{I'm fine,} Prowl insisted before Jazz could even open his mouth. {It hurts, but it's fine.}

Blaster waited a moment for a full translation, but when Jazz only frowned, he pressed. "Hey, is Prowl okay? He said that it hurt, right?"

"Ya," Jazz answered weakly with a frown. "It does, but he says it's fine."

"We can wait a bit longer," Blaster tried to reassure them both, "the medicine should be kicking in soon."

{Want to wait, Prowl? [Blaster] says it's fine if you want to wait for the hurt to go away.}

{No, I want this over with,} and with a forceful incentive, Prowl immediately brought his fingers along the bandages and started picking at the edges; roughly, with the clear intent to rip them off.

"Whoa, whoa!" Both Jazz and Blaster said in unison, gesturing for Prowl to stop. Which, thankfully he did.

"Okay, we'll continue, but if it becomes too much, please say something. Alright?"

Prowl's only response to Jazz's translation was to give a short, irritated huff and to look away from the caretaker.

That was the last little bit of communication between them before Blaster resumed the long and uncomfortable task of giving medical treatment to a mer that was clearly in pain. Two days ago, Prowl was answering him when asked if something hurt, now the mer hardly looked at him.

It was like Blaster had lost what little trust he had worked so hard to gain, and it hurt. But did he really have any right to feel that way?

~~~~~~  ҉  ~~~~~~

After nearly two hours, Blaster had removed all of Prowl's bandages and reapplied about half. The ones on his left arm, the area around his lower ribs to his hips; the site of the leviathan bite. And of course, gave him a new cast. All in white and black.

Prowl looked less colourful now and more like a mer with odd striping. But, it was still a small comfort to not look as wounded as he felt. And he was absolutely aching. With a clear mind and without painkillers, he was tempted to question his earlier decision. Prowl had been bit before by a couple different types of leviathans, but this one's teeth had him feeling like he had been stabbed multiple times. And he would know, he has been stabbed before.

Even floating on his back still hurt from the little bit of effort it required, but at least it was easier on his back muscles than standing upright. Laying in a bed right now would be ideal. Though, between the light tugs on his stitches and his tender, inflamed muscles, Prowl really didn't want to move for a while.

{Prowl?} Jazz hovered close by. He had grown more and more concerned during the time the human had tended to his wounds. But Prowl noticed that he was trying to mask his emotions again with a kind smile. {[Blaster,] is asking if you want more… food to stop the hurt.}

Prowl's expression pulled into not quite a frown, not quite a grimace, but something that made him look like he wasn't sure if he should be offended.

{That's not food,} he stated more out of reflex at first, but it wasn't Jazz's fault afterall, he just didn't have the words. {(Medicine) can be used to help when you are sick and to help with (pain.) When you are in (pain) it hurts. You can eat (medicine) but it is not food. Does this make sense?}

{I think I understand. I will try again — [Blaster,] is asking if you want more medicine for the pain.}

{You said it right. And, no.}

{… please,} he asked softly. {It will help, trust me, I've had it when I was in pain. It's safe. Please, Prowl, I don't want you to be in pain.}

{I do not want what the human is (offering)… asking to give; (offer.)}

{But [Blaster only] wants to help–}

{I said no!} Prowl snapped himself upright with a harsh kick of his tail. Though he instantly regretted it as sharp pain shot up through his body that made his muscles lockup. But the momentum combined with becoming rigid had him sinking swiftly like a rock.

{Prowl!} Jazz had made a move to catch him, but froze up at the last second. Now panicking, fearing that Prowl was about to drown, Jazz desperately looked to Blaster.

"Grab him!" Blaster quickly directed when he realized why Jazz wasn't moving.

Jazz responded right away and dove. The other mer wasn't that far under, but enough that Jazz had to reach for him, grabbing Prowl under his right arm. When he pulled him to the surface, Prowl began breathing through his clenched teeth.

{Are you okay!? What's wrong!?}

{Pull me to the bed,} Prowl said with a pained wheeze.

Not that he needed to be told twice, but Blaster had had the same plan in mind. "Bring him to the holding pool!"

As his caretaker hurried over, Jazz was very mindful of not to bump into Prowl or hit him with his tail as he swam them both over to the shallow pool. Then with a little bit of delicate, awkward shuffling, Jazz helped Prowl rest on his right side.

All while Blaster directed Jazz as needed, and weighed his options. "He reacted like that because he didn't want any more painkillers?"

"It's my fault," Jazz admitted his guilt as he hovered around Prowl. "I was trying to convince him. I just… I just didn't want him to be in pain."

"I don't either."

But neither did the aquarium. If Prowl appeared to be in pain and caused guests to become concerned, to question if he was being looked after, it would cause nothing but problems. Blaster wanted to respect Prowl's choice, but the horrible truth was that he couldn't. If Blaster wanted to keep Prowl from as much harm as possible, he would have to do what was deemed right for the sake of the 'animal's' well-being. Blaster was nice about it and did his best to respect boundaries, but at the end of it all — none of them actually had a choice.

If Blaster didn't do his job, he would be fired. If Jazz didn't want to take part in medical procedures, the staff found a way to coerce him, or did it by force when mandatory. Prowl would be no exception, but the fact he had no training meant that it was by force on default.

Taking a deep breath, Blaster made a decision. "Okay. I'm going to leave for a bit, give Prowl some space and time to relax. Hopefully by then he is feeling better." And I won't have to press the issue.

~~~~~~  ҉  ~~~~~~

Time seemed to crawl as Jazz floated between the pool wall and the hammock, he wasn't sure if he was keeping him company for Prowl's sake or for his own. But Prowl hadn't asked him to leave so he stayed.

Not taking his eyes off the partly cloudy sky, he called out quietly, just in case Prowl had managed to fall asleep. {Prowl?}

{Yes, [Jazz,]} Prowl answered right away, clearly awake.

He then braved restarting the conversation from before. {Why don't you trust me when I say what [Blaster] is doing is safe?}

{I do trust you.}

Jazz tried to keep the irritation out of his tone, because so far Prowl's actions from before seemed to say the opposite. {Then why did you fight when [Blaster] wanted to help?}

{I did not fight when that human wanted to change my bandages (or) my cast. I did not fight when that human wanted to see and touch my claws.}

{But the medicine—}

{I do not have to (accept) — to take — that human's help. Yes, I am in pain, but I do not need to take medicine if I do not want to. And I don't.}

Jazz understood, he really did. But with something as simple as painkillers, was resisting really worth the potential consequences? Of someone else deciding that what Blaster was doing was wrong and changing the medication or the dosage? Jazz had already seen Prowl suffer because others doubted Blaster. And what if next time was worse?

{I'm not trying to say that we have to take it. — And [Blaster] is trying to listen to what we want when [Blaster] can. — But if we say no again and again to [Blaster] when the humans can see that we are in pain, then [Blaster] will get in trouble. And when the humans in white say we need help and medicine, [Blaster] has to do what the ones in white say. If [Blaster] doesn't do it, humans in white will come to do it. Then the help will be scary and it can hurt.}

{Have the humans in white said I need the pain medicine?}

Worried that he might just be making the tension between Prowl and Blaster worse at this point, Jazz turns his head to look at Prowl, expecting an expression of hatred. But, instead, Prowl was serious and focused. He is listening, seeking more information rather than dismissing Jazz's insight. It was a sign of improvement both on their communication and relationship, and it brought Jazz great joy. Even if the topic was uncomfortable. {Not… now? But, later the humans can? I don't know the word.}

{Not (yet?) Can come to be, but you do not know if the humans will change how (they) think about it later?}

{Yes, that's what I was trying to say. Not yet.}

{Then for now, I can say no. And you can tell me when the humans say I need it.}

It didn't really work that way, and Jazz supposed he could talk to Blaster about what's going on, but there was always a chance that Blaster wouldn't know either. And then there was the future concern, as his primary caretaker wasn't here every day. Jazz's other caretaker was also far less confident and was quick to turn to the Head Vet for guidance or assistance.

{I can… try.} Jazz's lack of faith was evident in the tone of his voice, weak and defeated from past experience.

There is a bit of a pause before Prowl speaks again, he asks with a firm tone. {Why do you stand up for that one human?}

{I…} he began, then changed his mind and started again. {[Blaster] makes mistakes, but isn't a bad human, [he only] wants to look after me, and I don't want to be mean to [him,] that's all.}

{Has that human hurt you?}

{A little at the start,} Jazz answers honestly and carefully, {and a hand full of times later, but it made [Blaster] sad when I got hurt. I didn't know [Blaster] then, I didn't see [Blaster] as a kind human that wanted to help me. I thought [Blaster] was like all humans I had to listen to.}

{This human has been kind to you more (often) than not and for that you trust (them?)} There was much scepticism in his voice. Not that Jazz blamed him, Jazz wouldn't outright believe a human's intention to be good simply because they were nice to him; even if they had never done anything to hurt him once.

{Yes and no,} he said at first, with mild hesitation that came from a mix of discomfort and uncertainty over this topic. Even if Jazz had the words to explain it to Prowl, he was honestly still struggling with how he felt about Blaster and their relationship. It was not exactly a conversation he wanted to have with Prowl either, he doubted that Prowl would even understand given how different their lives were.

Jazz's expression then softened in empathy to Prowl's concern over trusting humans and he tried to appeal to him. {Look, I don't want to fight over it, Prowl. I'm not trying to make you trust humans — I don't — I've seen hundreds and hundreds of humans over the years. I know there are bad humans, ones that hurt mers if they can, ones that make it hard for humans to be kind to mers. And there are humans that want to be kind and good to mers.

{All I want is for you to trust me when I say [Blaster] is a kind human that wants to be good to mers. [Blaster] wants to help mers when mers need it, not when humans think mers need it. That's what makes [Blaster] safe. But… I know [Blaster] is hard to trust, as the humans here can make [Blaster] leave.}

He watched Prowl as he really took everything into consideration, {I understand. I…} till a startled and horrified look crossed his face, {wait– years? What do you mean years? [Jazz] how… how many years (old) are you?}

Uh, like, what my medical record says? Though, he quickly cast that aside and went with what he believed was the correct answer. Jazz quickly mulled the numbers over in his head, trying to recall the pronunciation. {Two-enty… six.}

{Twenty-six!?} The genuine shock that Prowl expressed was comical. He even jumped up on his elbow, as if getting a better look at Jazz now would reveal something he had missed before. But Jazz wasn't quite sure how he felt about the reaction, was it good or bad that he didn't look the age a mer should? The way that Prowl then quickly looked him up and down, in a state of disbelief that was turning into concern… it was probably the latter.

Though this had become very awkward, Jazz smiled and tried to keep things light. {Yes. How many years are you?}

As his shock lessened and his eyes shifted away, looking like he was thinking something over. Prowl had only slightly hesitated, as he answered softly, {twenty-four.}

"Wait- really!?" It was Jazz's turn to be surprised, he hadn't expected to be older than Prowl. But for them to be so much closer in age than he thought, it was — nice. Delightful, even.

And that joy was quickly stomped out when Prowl asked, {have (they) taken food away to hurt you before?}

Jazz didn't need to recall the memories of his earlier years to remember the extreme feelings of frustration and discomfort around earning food, that kind of feeling never really leaves. It must have shown on his face as Prowl quickly apologised.

{I'm sorry, I–}

{It's okay,} Jazz said, cutting Prowl off with a friendly smile.

{No, it isn't,} Prowl insisted with great seriousness, and perhaps a touch of outrage.

This was the last thing Jazz wanted. After all these painful topics and Jazz choosing to trust him with some honesty, Prowl was going to take pity on him? Jazz turned his gaze away as he loudly declared, {I don't what to hear you say your sorry! It happened, now it doesn't, and I don't want to say more about it.}

Then after a moment of tense silence, Prowl spoke up. "Jazz?"

{What.}

{Thank you for telling me,} he said in a neutral tone, like it was a formality, and strangely enough, Jazz found comfort in it. Without emotion, it felt like there was no judgement. {For sharing what has happened here and to you, it is good to know what will get us in trouble and how to stay out of it. I will keep it in (mind) as I (plan.)}

Jazz didn't respond, but it seems like Prowl had expected that as Jazz heard him lay back down without another word.

~~~~~~  ҉  ~~~~~~

It would be another couple minutes before Blaster returned. Prowl seemed to be doing better, not in nearly as much pain, but was still refusing more painkillers. Though, he admitted that he wanted to rest a while longer.

When opening hours were just about to start, Jazz couldn't help but worry about Prowl. Yes, he had said that he wasn't going to hide anymore, but that didn't mean that he was suddenly okay with the situation. Which is what left Jazz feeling awkward — well, this and how their last conversation had ended — as he floated next to Prowl in the main pool.

Who seemed to be too focused on listening for something as he turn his head this way and that. Occasionally pausing to glare up at the staff on the observation deck. Though considering it was Josh; his face was horribly discoloured from the broken nose and was doing him no favours in intimidation by the way, and the guy kept childishly flipping Prowl off. Jazz didn't blame Prowl one bit.

And when Jazz heard the first footsteps of guests in the main area below, he almost felt grateful for the distraction. Almost. Because Jazz realized a moment after he fell into his usual habit of greeting the guests, Prowl was watching him from where he lay at the surface.

Damn it, this was just like yesterday wasn't it? He had already screwed up all over again, hadn't he? Sheepishly, Jazz smiled up at him and nervously said the first thing that came to mind. .: Want to come say hi? :.

Prowl curled a lip in clear disgust at the suggestion. .: (Absolutely) not. :.

Ya, should have expected that, stupid. Jazz; still smiling, scolded himself as that painful feeling from yesterday began to rise from his gut to his chest. Turning back to the glass, he continues waving at crowd the forming in front of it. Then he saw a great many of their eyes widen in surprise and a few even began hopping with glee. At first he thought they were simply new to the aquarium, until he noticed that they weren't looking at him, but next to him.

Jazz couldn't help being surprised as well. Standing at the full attention like that of a guard, facing the crowd with a cold look of disinterest was Prowl. Prowl had come to join him. Though he swiftly surveyed the area; ignoring any attempts by the humans to gain his attention with practiced professionalism, he made sure to meet Jazz's eyes. And then he answered Jazz's unspoken question. .: I will not do as you do. But, I will not leave you to (bear) this (humiliation) alone. :.

He has to quickly look away as he feels his lip twitch and his throat starting to burn, as he fights to keep his mask. There was other words in there, but… damn - that one sentence alone was enough to build him back up and tear him down in one go.

.: Thanks, Prowl. :. Was all Jazz could muster up in response.

_____________________________

Just in case anyone forgot (it has been a pretty long time since Blaster "mentioned" it) Jazz has been in aquariums for 22 years, and well… ya.

[myoveractivewriterbrain]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 16/??

It's short, I know, but I want to believe it will work better this way.

<<Previous <<The Beginning>> Next>>

_____________________________

"common" {mer} {[common words mix in mer]} (mer/echo Jazz doesn't understand) .: echo-speech :. _____________________________

Jazz laughed, weak and breathless, while Prowl faintly scowled.

He hadn't meant to laugh, but he was just so relieved.

As Prowl quickly righted himself, he turned to Jazz and placed his uninjured hand upon the other mer's shoulder. {I will think of a way. Trust me.}

Oh, whoops. I didn't mean it like that.

Here Prowl was trying to be strong and hold onto hope, that he would break free and see the ocean again, and Jazz had reacted like it was a joke.

Mustering a small, yet honest smile, Jazz relaxed under the light contact. {I trust you,} he said softly.

It wasn't a lie; technically, he trusted that Prowl would come up with a plan. He was certainly smart enough. Prowl would get out, he would see the ocean again. But Jazz knew that it wouldn't be from Prowl's efforts.

No animal left the aquarium unless it went out in a box.

{But, you're hurt,} Jazz continued, looking down at the sling around Prowl's other arm, at both the visible healing cuts and those still hidden beneath the bandages across Prowl's chest. {Can't get out with you hurt.}

Prowl withered a bit, glancing down like he had forgotten. Or perhaps he had been more willing to be reckless until Jazz pointed it out as a problem. {That is okay. I will need time to (plan), to think. (Until then,) I will (recover)… heal over time.}

As Prowl withdrew, Jazz snatched his wrist. Prowl blinked in slight surprise just as Jazz's anxiety flared — he let go immediately — because he had done it without thinking.

{Sorry! I, uh—, sleep! Right, we-} he rambled out in haste to hopefully distract Prowl from what he just did. Though mer and human words clashed in his panic, {we [should get to] bed- uh, you [should get to bed,] you need sleep — [will you be able to sleep? Are you hurting too much to—]}

"—Jazz," Prowl interrupted delicately, with a voice so small, it startled Jazz. This time as Prowl's hand returned to his shoulder, he had done it slow enough for Jazz to reject the contact, yet fast enough that it wasn't a sign of hesitation. Jazz doesn't move. He can't. It's a internal battle of being terrified of the repercussions and a deep seated longing of something that was wrong.

His hand sits gentle, yet firm, just like how Blaster does it.

{It's okay. Breathe,} he continues, {take deep, slow breaths.}

With a shaky exhale; a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Jazz does as he's told. For the next three Jazz closes his eyes. But he is still tense, there's still too many emotions from today coiled tightly like a spring.

{Good,} comes the soft encouragement accompanied by soothing strokes down his arm and back up. It helps, and yet makes it all the more unbearable. Jazz trembles mutely as he curls in on himself, till his face is centimetres from the water and his arms are tucked tightly against his chest. While Prowl's words continued, repeated; though no less genuine.

They stay like this for a while. Until the tension began to melt away. Once Jazz has calmed down some, Prowl brings his hand to a pause on the other's shoulder, {talk to me, what is wrong? I want to help.}

Jazz worries his lip between his teeth for a moment before lifting his head, though he doesn't look at Prowl when he answers. {I'm fine. Sorry for… this,} he says as he gestures vaguely to himself, {it is a long day. I need sleep.}

Prowl frowns, but nods, {it (was) a long day.}

And he says nothing else, no pressing, no judgement, just providing the steady and calm comfort of his presence. Just… here. Regardless of Jazz giving him an easy out and simply going to bed, he's here while Jazz gathers himself. It makes Jazz feel weak, like he's about to start crumbling again. There is fear, so much fear. And yet there is also something else, this sensation like he could just reach out and– grab on.

{… tomorrow hundreds of humans will come again. Will you,} Jazz cut himself off, until Prowl resumed gently stroking his arm, the soothing touch gave him the soft encouragement he needed. {Will you hide again?}

Yet, as a minute passed and Prowl still hadn't answered, but also hadn't stop moving his hand, Jazz nervously pressed even as his voice fell to a whisper. {Will you not talk to me again?}

{Sorry,} he was quick to answer this time, {I will talk. I (was just) thinking about tomorrow. And the next, the day (after) tomorrow… Hundreds of humans will be here again?}

{Yes,} Jazz spoke with reluctance, worrying how this would affect Prowl to hear this, {five days they are here, two they are not.}

Prowl is quiet for another moment before he answers the question from before. {I will not try to hide, it will not help. And it will not help you, it will (only) hurt you.}

Jazz perked up at that and he finally met the other mer's eyes again. {What?}

{When I left… to think. I was mad with the humans, at (everything. But,) I (also upset) you, I hurt your feelings and your trust. I'm sorry. I do not want to hurt you, I want to help you, I want you to feel safe with me, to trust me.}

{I do trust you,} Jazz insisted, but when Prowl removed his hand to hold it out as an offering. Jazz held his own even tighter to his chest.

Prowl's expression shifted a carefully, to one bearing a hit of compassion. {You say that, (yet) you are (still) scared of me,} he said without judgment.

{I'm not!} Jazz wasn't scared of Prowl, he was scared of what could happen, of what would happen if he was caught. Somethings got missed or people weren't watching closely, but there was cameras everywhere. And it was bad enough that even if Jazz did behave Prowl was still going to be taken away in the end, but to lose him sooner because he broke the rules — Jazz would never forgive himself. {I'm not, I-I do not know the words. I'm not scared of you, I'm not, please trust me!}

With him winding up again, Prowl went back to consoling. {It's okay, I will trust what you say. We have time to learn more words… And, I'm sorry I did not ask (before, but) is this touch okay?}

Jazz blinked in bewilderment, why would he suddenly change the topic to that of all things? "The petting? Ya, you're allowed to pet me, there's nothing wrong with that."

Prowl made an odd face as he stopped the comforting touch and lifted his hand as he spoke again, {[Jazz,] (if) it's not okay, I want you to tell me. I want you to trust me that (if) you say no, it's no, I will not touch you.}

{No, no, it's okay!} Jazz quickly corrected to mer and even leaned back into Prowl's retreating hand. {This touch is fine and… and it's helped me feel better, thank you.}

{You're welcome,} Prowl said with a faint smile, but Jazz had a feeling this expression was forced; like he was doing it for Jazz's sake. Though, that in of itself caused Jazz to wonder.

{… Prowl?}

{Yes?}

{Do you… like me?} Though the moment the words left his mouth, he began to flounder again. "I mean– as friends! Well, maybe not friends yet, not that I wouldn't want to be friends! I do! I just- I know you apologised for earlier, but it doesn't necessarily mean you like me, it just shows you're nice. And you don't have to like me, but I'd like to at least know you don't find me annoying or something. I don't know—"

{I do (care.)}

"—you know what, forget- you," Jazz froze up, looking at Prowl with wide eyes. {You… do?}

{I do not know you (very well, though) I am getting to know you more with time. Day… six; (when) I left the small pool and we (met) face to face, I (thought) — past think.} Prowl paused heavily here, his face scrunching up as he looked away and back at Jazz again. Whatever he was debating, he was very hesitant to say. {I (thought) you were naughty.}

Jazz cringed and quickly hid his face in his hands in complete embarrassment. {I'm [so] sorry!}

{(Apology accepted.) I forgive you.} Prowl said as he patted Jazz's shoulder. {You (have) shown me over these past (few) days that you (regret) your (behaviour.) I see that you are trying, to be better, to learn. And to help me with the humans. You're strong (willed) and you're smart, (even if) you're naughty (sometimes), you're a good kid.}

That last part killed his embarrassment real quick and Jazz whipped his head up. {[Hey!] I'm not a kid!}

But Prowl huffed in light amusement as a corner of his mouth quirked up a tiny bit. {You're right, my bad. (But even if) I don't know you, I (care.) I want you to trust me that when I say I will help you get back home, it is true.}

Back home? Jazz felt inclined to question, but the words felt heavy on his tongue and made his chest tight. Because, well, Jazz was already home. There wasn't anywhere else for him to go, not unless another aquarium offered to take care of him.

{And this is why I did not stop trying to teach you more words. The more we can talk to (each other,) the more we can learn, and together I know we can think of a way out of here.}

Though things were beginning to become clear; that there was a reason behind Prowl's steadfast word practice, Jazz was just noticing something else altogether. This was their first full conversation — not a word lesson, not simple questions for sentence practice thinly disguised as Jazz trying to get to know him, not a confrontation around Blaster or humans — and it had been about them. It had been clunky, perhaps awkward in hindsight, but they were communicating, trying to understand each others feelings and actions better.

Not only that, Prowl liked him! So much more than Jazz had dared to believe. Because Prowl had been planning to take Jazz with him, Prowl liked him enough to want to go back to the ocean together. Which, wasn't going to happen but… still! Jazz was filled with all sorts of emotion and… hope. Not a small flicker of wishful thinking, a genuine feeling of hope had began to grow.

{Can I ask you..? There is a word I want to learn,} Jazz began a bit nervously, though there was timid excitement bubbling up in his voice. Prowl then tilted his head; ready to listen to him try and explain what he wanted to know. {What is the word for… mermaids that like you and want to play together?}

{(Friends,)} Prowl answered simply, just like it was any other language lesson and not Jazz clearly about to open up to him.

{(Friends?)} When Jazz got a nod in reply that he got the pronunciation correct, he then wrung his hands as he fought to keep himself from looking away. {Can… can we be friends?}

And just like that, the hardest thing he has done in years is met so easily with a simple answer.

{Yes, we can be friends, [Jazz.]} Prowl said.

He didn't know if he wanted to scream or cry, though he thankfully did neither and smiled with bright, innocent joy. No matter how childish it must have seemed, Jazz showered his first friend with words of gratitude and a tiny bit of affection. {Oh, thank you, thank you! I'm happy we are friends now, Prowl! Thank you!}

{You're welcome,} he replied with a lightly amused look, but his fatigue was becoming more prominent as the expression withered a moment after. {Do you want to talk more, or are you ready to sleep?}

{Sleep sounds good,} Jazz agreed as he let the tension fall from his shoulders, and then he gave a small sigh of relief before saying, {thank you for talking with me, about today.}

{We needed to,} Prowl gave Jazz once last pat on the shoulder before he laid back down, his tired gaze returning back up at the murky night sky.

With all the stress of the day settled and the two of them now closer than before, Jazz was tempted to just flop over and pass out. But a tiny bit of worry returned as he glanced from Prowl to the hammock. {Are you not going to sleep there?}

{Do you want me to?} Prowl asked as he looked towards him, calm and not at all bothered about possibly being asked to leave. {I thought you (might) want to (drift) together (after everything.)}

{… what together?}

{(Drift;) sleeping next to you in the open water. Do you want to sleep here, together?}

{Oh,} Jazz's excitement renewed a tiny bit, a new way to spend time together? {Yes, please.}

And yet, the second after he said that Jazz dove to hide himself from Prowl's reaction. Yes, please!? Why did I say it like that! Gods, that was embarrassing. But, thankfully, as he rose to the surface; now rolled over on his back, Prowl didn't comment on it.

{Do you want to hold hands?} Prowl offered instead, stretching his arm out between them.

Seeing the action helped Jazz to rein in his emotions some as he quickly shook his head and moved his arms to wrap around himself. Jazz then stole a glance; faintly worried that he had offended Prowl by declining, but Prowl just nodded, rested the arm beneath the one in the sling, and then closed his eyes.

Jazz didn't know how long it took for Prowl to fall asleep, all he knew was when he heard Prowl's heart and breathing slow, he finally had some time alone. And in those moments before he fell asleep, Jazz hugged himself as he stared wistfully up at the few scattered stars. Rubbing his hand along his arm just as Prowl had, all to hopefully sooth the familiar ache in his chest. Trying to convince himself that the pain would be worth it.

[mystarduststories]

Flippers, and regrets

AO3 Mirror

Fandom: transformers? kerfon’s apocalyptic ponyo au?

Relationships: Drift | Deadlock & Ratchet, Pre-Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet

Tags: Apocalyptic ponyo au, medical inaccuracies, rescues, Animal Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Loss of Limbs, prosthetic limbs

Notes: based on this post,

Summary: Deadlock was a poacher and sea hunter, but when he saw the pretty red sea lion mer look at him with such rage in his eyes as the crew he was apart of ripped it apart, he knew couldn’t keep doing this. This one he couldn’t just let die. But without it’s flippers it would surely die, so he has to come up with an alternate solution.

Chapter TWarnings: graphic violence, finning, talk of skinning, torture

Additional Tags: poachers, poacher!deadlock, mer hunters, human!deadlock, mer!ratchet, sea lion!ratchet,

Snippets:

It wasn’t the first time Deadlock and the crew captured a mer. It would be the last. … Maybe that was what was different. That anger, the viciousness, being so determined to not die without causing as much pain. The desire to live or go down fighting. The mer made brief eye contact with Deadlock, standing there, doing nothing as the creature was mutilated. Deadlock saw the rage and pain in his eyes, the rage being a paper thin shield to mask the terror and despair and helplessness of losing everything- … But looking at this random mer, showing the same feelings, echoing Drift, Deadlock felt that same need to act. To do something!

End notes: do you have any idea how much this and next chapter PAINS ME to keep calling ratchet a seal when HE’S A SEA LION!! it is killing the seal nerd in me. but deadlock is a dumbass who never learved the difference between any piniped and thinks they’re all seals. even if it makes me want to stab him i must keep true to his lack of knowledge.

Read from begining  see above link  |  Read Next Chapter   |  Read Final chapter

[sock-has-rock]

Caption. I'm going on a cruise soon. Will have no WiFi. Very sad about lack of wifi

[mystarduststories]

Flippers, and regrets

AO3 Mirror

Fandom: transformers? kerfon's apocalyptic ponyo au?

Relationships: Drift | Deadlock & Ratchet, Pre-Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet

Tags: Apocalyptic ponyo au, medical inaccuracies, rescues, Animal Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Loss of Limbs, prosthetic limbs

Notes: based on this post,

Summary: Deadlock was a poacher and sea hunter, but when he saw the pretty red sea lion mer look at him with such rage in his eyes as the crew he was apart of ripped it apart, he knew couldn't keep doing this. This one he couldn't just let die. But without it's flippers it would surely die, so he has to come up with an alternate solution.

Chapter TWarnings: graphic violence, finning, talk of skinning, torture

Additional Tags: poachers, poacher!deadlock, mer hunters, human!deadlock, mer!ratchet, sea lion!ratchet,

Snippets:

It wasn't the first time Deadlock and the crew captured a mer. It would be the last. ... Maybe that was what was different. That anger, the viciousness, being so determined to not die without causing as much pain. The desire to live or go down fighting. The mer made brief eye contact with Deadlock, standing there, doing nothing as the creature was mutilated. Deadlock saw the rage and pain in his eyes, the rage being a paper thin shield to mask the terror and despair and helplessness of losing everything- ... But looking at this random mer, showing the same feelings, echoing Drift, Deadlock felt that same need to act. To do something!

End notes: do you have any idea how much this and next chapter PAINS ME to keep calling ratchet a seal when HE'S A SEA LION!! it is killing the seal nerd in me. but deadlock is a dumbass who never learved the difference between any piniped and thinks they're all seals. even if it makes me want to stab him i must keep true to his lack of knowledge.

Read from begining  see above link  |  Read Next Chapter   |  Read Final chapter

[myoveractivewriterbrain]

Here's the art I promised!

It was supposed to be a bunch of art, height charts, refs of Prowl's injuries and Blaster's tattoo (outfits too). But I sadly wasn't able to finish it all, I've got rough drafts at best. :'C

This is the actual size, in case anyone was interested...

I hope you like it. ԅ[ •́ ﹏├┬┴┬┴

And I'm also sorry I wasn't able to finish this month's chapter, I'm struggling with a bit of writers block.（πーπ）

[foxtherad]

The amazing fic Two Peas in a Pod by @myoveractivewriterbrain updated and it has driven me to draw the orca bois 👏👏

Designs by @keferon

[myoveractivewriterbrain]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 15/??

A light warning. This might be a bit icky, due to a crazy fan, but I do my best to gloss over it without going into too much detail. If you feel like it is too much, jump to the next paragraph breaker, I will have a summery of the fan's behaviour at the bottom.

<<Previous <<The Beginning>> Next>>

_____________________________

"common" {mer} {[common words mix in mer]} (mer/echo Jazz doesn't understand) .: echo-speech :. _____________________________

He needed space, he needed a moment — scratch that, he needed several, a week would be preferable, to just decompress… everything.

But when Jazz turned away from the crowd to him; still wearing that fake smile, and yet, expressing a small amount of concern in the furrow of his brow — Prowl left — he did not flee, he did not cower, he left; calmly. To the surface. To the only place he could, into the sectioned off pool. There was this buzzing ache throughout his whole body, a tension that Prowl was well aware of the reason behind it. The temptation to sooth it, to conceal, to obstruct himself from their eyes, their cameras, by using the hammock as cover was immense. But he could not show such weakness, especially now. Prowl could reject them, ignore them, but he could not show fear.

Fear was the first step to control. And Prowl would not submit.

In the shallows, Prowl rested his right shoulder against the edge while he braced himself with the back side of his loosely curled tail. It would have been more comfortable to rest in the hammock, but that could be seen as an act of seeking comfort. Another display of fear. It would have been easier to simply stretch out along the floor, but shallow breaths made for a reckless dive.

What now?

Be calm.

What was he suppose to do now?

Deep, slow, breaths.

How was he supposed to appeal to Blaster now?

Panicking will be of no help to anyone.

The human may show that he cares for Jazz, but how much of it was like one does for–for a pet?

Stop—

Prowl tenses up, Jazz is suddenly within his field of vision. Though, now that he was brought back into focus, the soft ripples of water around him imply that Jazz had approached slowly, cautiously. Prowl then scowls down at the water in front of him, ashamed that he had sank so deep that the world had become senseless white noise. A dangerous position to slip into. How could he have let himself become so unaware.

Jazz's hand tentatively comes into view this time, giving him a small wave. Reluctantly, Prowl lifts his gaze back up and Jazz appears as if he wants to say something, but stops himself and tilts his head slightly towards him instead. Paired with the same expression before — it's as if Jazz is asking if he is alright. And it took Prowl another moment to recall why Jazz didn't just ask.

That whole precaution may have been pointless in hindsight — animals weren't people, animals couldn't talk after all. Jazz likely already knew how humans saw them, probably even tried to tell him yesterday before Prowl had rudely cut him off. Nevertheless, Prowl had made yet another error. He had been making a lot of them since he ended up in here, and it was both frustrating and embarrassing.

.: We can talk quietly, the humans, :. Prowl began, .: the humans… You tried to tell me and I… :.

Prowl was better than this.

.: … It's okay, :. though there was more kindness in Jazz's expression than those words conveyed. He was forgiving, empathetic to his faltering confidence.

Jazz then continued; likely to be reassuring to Prowl's distress, but he ended up fumbling over what he was trying to say. .: Not talking mer, uh…together to humans here, not talking mer is a good think. Echo-speech is safe, I think? Humans hear the clicks and think we are looking and hunting, not talking. :.

While there was not much emotion one could use with echo-speech, Prowl's numb expression set the tone well enough as he responded simply, .: understood. :.

Honestly, it should've been expected with how they were being viewed. But Jazz wasn't completely right either, because some were certainly trying to figure it out. As there was no denying the recordings, and Prowl didn't know if the revelation made those acts worse.

There was a bit of an awkward moment where Jazz; still holding on to that showmen smile, fidgeted. .: Are you… going to stay here? :.

Prowl gave a small nod.

.: Okay. :.

But as Jazz turns to leave, Prowl stops him, .: don't. :.

.: Don't what? :.

.: Play (with) humans. :.

Jazz tilted his head, puzzled, .: (with?) :.

.: Together, :. he offered, to help him better understand.

But Jazz just smiled brighter, though this one was less fake, there was still something that he was clearly misunderstanding. .: It's fine, Prowl. :.

Prowl scowled at him in return as his frustration began to boil. Fine? Had Jazz become complacent with the glass between them, with being forced on display, of being stripped of his privacy? There was no reason to do this, to play the part. Just ignore them. Don't give them the satisfaction of the attention. Reject them, retaliate, anything but indulge their fantasies like this.

.: No, it is not fine. Don't smile, don't wave, don't go to the humans. :. Prowl then pointed harshly at him, .: you are not to play with. :.

With a sudden slap, Prowl was splashed in the face. The shock of it stunned him into silence, while Jazz held a flicker of anger in his eyes before his whole posture shifted with regret. But not once did Jazz drop his smile. And when Prowl dropped his hand, Jazz recoiled sharply before darting off back into the main pool.

What just happened? Clearly there was a miscommunication; something that upset Jazz enough to childishly throw water at him, but he didn't know what words had been mixed up, what Jazz believed he heard Prowl say. Yet it just started up a new spiral with every little thought running through his mind — of him trying to piece all of Jazz's movements and reactions together in an attempt to fix where it went wrong — every possible escape plan being picked apart for anything salvageable — of the nightmare that he found himself trapped in — he couldn't find a point of focus, his mind far to overwhelmed to even make sense of anything.

Instead, Prowl looked up at the clouds, willing himself to just escape for a bit. Tempted to even pretend that he was in a tide pool along some coastal cliff side. For some form of reprieve. Just for a moment. And yet, reality only continued to spite him. Because he had caught a figure in the corner of his vision, and whether out of reflex or some dull sense of need for awareness, Prowl turned his head to make eye contact.

Blaster was leaning against the railing of the deck above their cage, and instantly, Prowl knew that he had seen everything. No matter how gentle Blaster's expression was, the gaze he held down at him was full of pity, Prowl felt chagrined.

Curse you all to the lowest pit.

~~~~~~  ҉  ~~~~~~

Jazz hadn't meant to let his emotions get the best of him, to lash out at Prowl like that. Prowl was freaked out, and he didn't need to hear the other's thundering heartbeat to know that, because he gets it, oh man does Jazz get it. Going from just interacting with caretakers and vets to being swarmed by fans, by people that wanted your attention, people you didn't even know.

But damn it all. What else was he suppose to do? Nothing? Most of his time was filled with wall to wall with nothing. He had seen every inch of this aquarium, read every info plaque, knew every routine of every exhibit. For better or for worse, Jazz longed for the moments of interaction with the public, for however brief of a time he could hold their interest. Even if he knew that humans and mers shouldn't mix, some days he walked the edge. Because, Jazz needed someone to talk to. Jazz needed someone to play with. Jazz needed someone he could touch in a way that wasn't clinical.

Not that he was ungrateful for Blaster's consistent presence, he was someone he could talk to, someone that he could play with, but it… it wasn't the same. In truth, it was such a relief to finally have someone on equal ground. Where his only worry was whether or not Prowl enjoyed his company. And as Jazz swam around, that worry only continued to fester. Because Prowl clearly hated humans, would Jazz dependency on human contact cause Prowl to resent him, to reject him?

Yet, time had passed far more quickly than he realized. Though the sound of the gate hydraulics were not loud, barely a soft hiss, it was one that Jazz could easily recognise. And without a second thought, Jazz enters the flooded passage.

.: Wait, :. Prowl calls out, causing Jazz to whip around within the narrow space. As he saw that Prowl swimming towards him, Jazz froze like a deer in headlights. .: Where are you going? :.

With sudden flashes from moments not that long ago, of how Prowl had reacted to Jazz lightly entertaining the crowd behind the glass, to what he was about to do — Jazz panicked, pressing his hands on either side he block Prowl from entering. .: Don't follow me! :.

Prowl stopped immediately, glancing over him with uncertainty. Though when the gate began to close, Prowl made a hasty movement forward —

.: Stay! :. He snapped at first, then weaker, .: please, stay here. :.

As the gate closes between them, Jazz is cast into an unfamiliar darkness.

~~~~~~  ҉  ~~~~~~

While he knew it was chatter of dozens of people, of squealing or crying children, the clattering or squeaking of different shoes, the dull thunks of hard cases and faint thumps of soft bags dropping to the floor, the clinking of buckles, and trinkets against the metal benches. The echos in the tunnel were heavily distorted into a loud hum of nonsense with random peaks. It was all white noise to Jazz, something that his brain just tuned out.

In the illusion of silence, in the darkness that shouldn't be uncomfortable, Jazz didn't want to acknowledge the change. Because why would this bother him? Why should it? It was normal, he sort of looked forward to this, he enjoyed it… most of the time. So why, why did he feel this way? This tightness, this weight, this dull ache that reminded him of loneliness, of betrayal. It felt wrong.

Though he was not given much time to ponder, he had missed the starting cue of the music and had to rush through the first movement to catch up. But then he fell into the motion, the same opener; a high breach into a heavy sideways flop that made a massive splash. Apparently it was iconic, something that people saw wild orca mers do often. From there it was dependent on the music, the show theme as it were. Sometimes it was wild with stunts to soak the crowds. Sometimes it was fast with acts of speed. Sometimes it was wacky and, well, kinda annoying, as he was made to act out a fool. But, Jazz thought it could be fun at times, he supposed.

Today was something balanced, basic, some might call it.

Jazz made many jumps, one or two with a twirl, another at a target ball that hung twenty-six feet from the surface. He could always tell how many first time guests or little kids were in the audience by how loud the reaction was to touching the ball. And there was a lot. Not that it was a surprise, Jazz saw how many had turned up at Prowl's reveal, how many had to had lined up at the Mer Exhibit entrance to be the first to see him.

Then there was speeding along the glass to create waves. Kicking and throwing water at the people in the front rows.

All while changing between doing acts solo and doing them with his trainer. Where he would perform stunts with them. A mix of tossing them in the air, of them balancing on his body, or propelling them through the water.

But it was here that Jazz was fumbling the most. His timing was off and he would miss or drop his trainer in the pool. Because every time he came into contact with them, Jazz couldn't help but hesitate. Again, he wondered why, why did this bother him now. Interacting with Blaster hadn't caused this reaction. But his trainer didn't say anything about it and remained focused on the show. So Jazz did his best to remain in character. And thankfully, it looked like his mess ups hadn't disappointed his fans.

As usual, during the cool down, one of the show crew would begin the educational part. Where Jazz would pose, demonstrate, or show the audience a skill or part of him, while they spoke about how he could do these things and why his species did them. What a wild mermaid did. How a wild mermaid lived.

There was only about a fifteen minute breather before he would begin the meet and greets on a side stage. Just like Blaster said, there was more staff around the pool and the theatre entrance, encouraging folks out at a casual pace. But little kids still ran up to the glass to wave goodbye, some even said 'thank you', or asked for a high-five. While Jazz wasn't allowed to come close to the glass before or after shows, let alone touch a guest without permission, he waved back with his charming smile and thanked them for coming.

"Hey, Rico!" A familiar voice called out to him, it was Bonnie. When he looked to her standing in the middle rows, as she waited for the line to clear out, she pointed to the beanie on her head. He knew what she was asking and gave her a thumbs up, which she mirrored in reply.

Bonnie was a regular here at the aquarium, and one of the few visitors that was a personal favourite of Jazz's. Beanie Bonnie as he and Blaster liked to call her.

When Jazz was ten, she had thrown her beanie into his tank during one of his shows. What the trainers had thought was a prank, turned out to be a gift. Because when Jazz tried to give it back, she said it was for him.

Back when he still had a temper and had difficulties working with any staff, letting him keep it was the only way to get him to cooperate. And it became his treasure, or rather the gesture had become his treasure. Anytime it tore she fixed it, any time it started falling apart or became too small she made him a new one. It had become a bit of a tradition to toss them back and forth during shows, much to the frustration of the staff. Some folks even tried to make it a tourist custom, for almost a year people would toss beanies and all sorts of hats in his tank, but Jazz only wanted Bonnie's.

He was glad that he got to see her today, it helped him to remember that he had some really good memories of doing shows.

~~~~~~  ҉  ~~~~~~

As predicted, the first guests of the meet and greet had a few questions about Prowl. Nothing that was against the rules thankfully. And there was a lot of rules about what people could and couldn't say or do with him. Not only was it on the paperwork for these visits, but it was also on a large sign at the theatre entrance. And yet, Jazz wasn't sure how to answer them. At least not now, not after what had happened.

What did he think of Prowl? I think he's really smart and brave, and I want to learn more from him.

Were they friends? I'd like to be… if I haven't ruined my chance.

But in the end, he simply continued to smile as he shrugged and answered with, "I don't know."

Other than that, it felt very much like the typical interactions. A couple of the usual questions for Jazz, a high-five or two, some questions for his trainer about how they train mers or what the practice routine was like, and ending with posing for photos. Though anytime that Jazz got distracted or his expression started to falter, he got a pat on the arm from his trainer – a soft reminder to focus.

The next group was pretty much the same. Which was great, as going through the motions made this whole chore easier.

Unfortunately, Jazz's bad day was about to get worse. Because he overheard the staff talking about her a moment before she climbed up onto the stage. One of his most prominent mega fans and his least favourite. Jazz couldn't recall her actual name anymore, back when she wasn't so… over the top. Back when she was a regular visitor and just liked to talk with him. But she was an influencer in recent years that went by 'Miss Orca'. She died her short hair black with white eye patch markings on the sides. She also wore a beanie and a custom wetsuit to match Jazz. In addition, everything she had was something with orcas on it or was orca inspired. This obsession made him incredibly uncomfortable.

Miss Orca was not well liked by anyone in the staff as far as Jazz knew. Her online activity and presence at the aquarium aggravated them. Whenever she made an appearance there would be constant jeers about her throughout the day. But Blaster hated her most of all, and not just because she openly declared that she was a better fit for his job.

According to Blaster; and things Jazz had overheard from other staff, she was not only a fake Atlantean, but someone that spreads disinformation on mermaids. The kind that puts both mers and humans in dangerous situations.

An Atlantean is a slur term that got reclaimed by mermaid activists in the past two decades. Originally it was used to insult those who believed that mermaids were people; that went back hundreds of years, that the idea was so outrageous that they must have believed that Atlantis actually existed. While many Atlanteans today aren't fully convinced that mermaids are truly people, they do all collectively believe in their rights and freedom from captivity. It is partly in thanks to these activists that improvements to the care of mers has improved across the globe, and laws in many countries have been created to help protect dwindling wild populations. Both from pollution and poachers.

The accusation that Miss Orca was a fake Atlantean lied in the fact that what she claimed to do and what she actually did. She'd talk like she cared about mer rights, but in truth all she cared about was being special. Ever since she had slipped and fell into the show tank during one of her first few meet and greets, and Jazz had been quick to pull her back up on to the ledge. She claimed that they shared a special bond, that Rico cared about her. The whole thing had been caught on camera too, and seeing as no one from the public had fallen into Jazz's enclosure since he was a child, it blew up on the internet. And now it was her mission to make sure that Rico was being looked after properly. Clinging to the fantasy of being Rico's saviour from uncaring staff, of potentially being loved by something mythical. Like some beauty and the beast scenario.

Over time, with every visit, it became harder and harder for Jazz to play his part. To be kind, to smile, to be the fun loving mermaid superstar that the world cared about. To be Rico Ricochet. Because Jazz knew she didn't actually care about him, just the idea of him. It was evident as she would touch him when he didn't want it, when he tried to back away. Because he couldn't tell her; or anyone, no if they weren't breaking rules. Refusal was bad behaviour, bad behaviour meant that he would not be rewarded, he would not be fed.

Well, perhaps that wasn't truly the case anymore. It hadn't been for a number of years. But Blaster said that his struggle with speaking up for himself and setting boundaries was due to trauma from his childhood. From his early years of captivity were he was conditioned into behaving in order to eat.

But, she would pet him, press up against him, or hold his face. The kissy faces and gushing about how cute he was were almost as bad as the poses she would ask for him to copy. The staff had made heated remarks behind her back about how some of them were too romantically implied, which only made Jazz dislike them even more. However, the personal feelings of staff were not enough to have her banned. As she never technically broke any of the aquarium rules and she was paying a lot of money to have these sessions monthly, if not weekly.

Because that's all they were, sessions. The moment it was over she typically left for the day. That was her proof of compassion, her 'checking up' on him. And within a few hours, she'd have more content on her account that pulled in thousands of views, of both hate and joy equally. She was just another person that saw Rico as a source of income and a thing to have.

~~~~~~  ҉  ~~~~~~

After a whole day of not really leaving the medical pool, Jazz thought that Prowl would want to be active once the aquarium closed. But Prowl only left to float out in the centre, staring up at the late evening sky. Which only fed into the state of anxiety that Jazz had all day.

Prowl had hardly spoke since this morning, nor had he eaten. He was upset clearly. But Jazz didn't know if he was mad at him, at Blaster, at all the guest, or perhaps just everyone. Or maybe it wasn't anger, but anguish? Frustration? Though maybe he should feel grateful that he wasn't ignoring Jazz, acknowledging his presence at least, even if only to stare off into the distance once more, answering his concerns with weak replies like 'I'm fine' or 'I'm not hungry'. Jazz was getting something, however small. Unlike whenever Blaster came around through out the day to check in or bring them food, Prowl wouldn't even look at him, he just scowled harder at the water.

"It's okay," Blaster tries to reassure Jazz before he leaves, "today has been a lot for Prowl. Perhaps tomorrow will be easier on him."

Jazz hopes so, but not only is Prowl not eating, he's also missing out on his medication. He worried about how much pain that would leave Prowl in. Would he be able to sleep? Would he be able to rest in the hammock? Perhaps that is why he was currently afloat in the main pool.

However, once the sky begins to darken, as the few stars struggle to be seen and the only lights remaining are the security lights, Prowl speaks. "Jazz."

{Yes, Prowl?} He answers, hesitating a moment before swimming up next to him, though mindful not to invade his personal space.

Prowl looks up at him for a moment, despite the guilt in his expression and the tense hold of his folded arms, his words carried conviction. {I will think of a way out, [Jazz.] And I want your help.}

_____________________________

We will not see Miss Orca again, she was a plot piece to show the worst side of Jazz's fans and that's it.

For those that skipped her. She was meant to show the horrible side of fans and of people that do not care about him as a living being, and take advantage of his current inability to say he doesn't like way they treat him. To pet or touch his face or make him pose for pictures that make him feel uncomfortable. She likes the control she has over the internet that believes that Rico cares for her in particular. Spinning nothing but a cheap fairytale at Jazz's expanse to generate income. Most of the staff hate like fans like this. And Blaster outright hates her for all this and because she poses as someone that cares about mermaids, yet doesn't seek to have them freed, on top of spreading disinformation that could dangerous to both humans and mermaids.

Additionally, during all this, some of Jazz's food trauma is brought up. About when he was still a child he was trained to listen and behave or he would not given anything to eat.