When he was feeling homesick, cut off from his choir and the life he’d known, he came here. Linse loved the hot throb of the bass through his bones, his body seeming to come alive beneath the influence of the music. It reminds him of being in the sea, of feeling as much as hearing pitches vibrate through the water around him. In the same way that the Songs of his people resonated a chord deep within the parts of him that are still all instinct and hunger, so too did the deafening thud of the club’s music bring him to life.
And so he danced, his eyes half lidded against the flashing lights and his sensitive ears carefully protected by a pair of noise deadening headphones. He danced for only the joy of movement, the celebration of song and the sensation of it thriving within him. Taken over by the rhythm of bodies pressed around him, Linse let go. Guided by instinct and the thrumming melody resonating inside, the siren lost track of time, of place, and of himself.
When the siren danced, it was more than just the rhythmic sway and grind of the average club goer out there on the dance floor with him. No, he danced like he was the Sea herself. With all of the lithe muscle of one used to cutting through the tide, his body twisted and rolled to the pounding bass, fluid movements that extended from the tip of his toes up to the charcoal black tips of his fingers. Like waves around a rock, people ebbed and flowed around him, and he payed them just as much attention as a rock does the sea.
It was only when dryness crept over his tongue that Linse came back to himself, dancing slowing to a halt. The siren swallowed dryly, and wiped sweat from his brow. He was thirsty. It had never been a problem when he’d still been living beneath the waves, but Linse had quickly discovered that this human body lost water incredibly quickly. Thirst, dehydration, even dry skin! These were all new, and terribly unpleasant discoveries for the siren to have made, and ones that took great lengths to avoid experiencing again. He had a small collection of creams and salves to soothe over all of this dry pink skin, trying to lock in and retain as much moisture as he could after each long bath. And rarely did he go anywhere without toting around a water bottle with him.
Except here. The club didn’t look too kindly on those who attempted to bring in outside beverages, and anyway, having a water bottle strapped to his hip just got in the way out on the crowded dance floor.
It was by habit that he threw a closed mouth smile at the people he lithely slotted himself between as he exited the crowded dance floor to seek out the bar. Though he was far from being the only creature around here with fangs, people still always seemed to find it unsettling when he smiled. Puzzling though it was to the siren, he’d found it no trouble. Without his Voice, there wasn’t much that he needed to open his mouth for anyway, and of those few things that did require that he flash his fangs, even fewer still were ones that he did outside of the privacy of his own home.
The bar was surprisingly not crowded, with a few groups or pairs of people scattered out along the length of it. Two people dressed in black busied themselves behind it, taking and delivering orders to those waiting. Linse found an empty spot and settled against the sleek surface of the bar, slipping his headphones off to rest around his neck. He winced a little at the increase in noise, but knew his needed accommodations would be met more kindly if he wasn’t also wearing headphones.
Linse pulled his phone from his pocket, dark fingers already swiping though apps and screens with a familiarity born after years of being mute amongst a hearing community. And there it was, a bright pink screen with ‘HEY!’ written across it in bold black type. Linse leaned against the bar, waited until the bartender drew near, and extended the phone, flashing the bright screen at him.
The man walked right on by.
The siren’s lips drew together over sharp teeth in a pale line of frustration. He flashed his phone at the bartender again, this time tapping the screen. A computerized voice called out, just barely audible over the music and chattering people around him.
“Hey!”
The bartender paid no notice, again passing him by to grab an order from the pretty girls who had just found a spot at the bar a few feet down from him. Linse narrowed his eyes, not for the first time cursing the one edict that had been passed onto him from the governing body of Caelestis.
You shall not eat our citizens.
But oh, how good it would be to Sing this frustrating man to him, to feel him go pliant and warm against his body even as the siren’s sharp teeth tore through his flesh with the ease of the sharpest blades.
The siren shuddered, restraining himself from flashing a frustrated hiss. Pointedly, he slapped his open palm against the bar, flashing his phone again and tapping repeatedly at the screen.
“Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey—“ the robotic voice chirped, little more than an off tone beat beneath the pounding music.
The man glanced over at him, held his gaze for a beat, before turning back to the girls with a smile.
Linse felt his hand curl against the bar top, thick black claws leaving gouges in their wake. He was so thirsty.
