I’m going to do something I normally don’t do and post my writing... underneath a cut, of course, but, I wrote this of @skeleton-tank‘s OC Jojan, and she loved it, so I figured, why not? It’s vague enough that I don’t really need to give context... and can stand as a one off thing.
If you’re interested, it’s under the cut!
It’s late at night, or perhaps now it’d be more accurate to say early in the morning. A thick fog has rolled in over Onlook; it’s not the fog that plagues Hadel, but the fog that the ocean naturally brings on a cooler than most but still warm summer morning. Jojan is out on the bay, sailing his ship, to clear his head. He had spent the evening prior alone, and had thought of nothing better to do, as nightmares plague the warlock’s dreams when he sleeps alone. Eventually he stops, now a considerable distance from Onlook’s shores, and lays back on the deck to stargaze.
The view out here is incredible, as it’s far enough from the city’s magic lights that he can see everything. Constellations, stars of every color, the moon clear and bright. The mist rolling in was only across the water, and his ship was big enough that his deck was typically above it at this point in the night, or morning. Popping open a bottle of soda, he smiles, and thinks that maybe he should bring Henrique with him next time. It’s always better with him, and he would have this time, but, the bard was busy with a gig. What can you do?
Not too much time passes before Jojan suddenly begins to hear a splash. Rhythmic, constant, like an oar. Normally, Jojan wouldn’t worry too much about this, but this person sounds like they’re getting considerably close to Jojan’s boat, so, he stands himself up and walks to the starboard side. Leaning over, however, he’s met with absolutely nothing, and the sound stops.
Strange.
Jojan takes a quick look at the bottle he’d opened to make sure it wasn’t actually hard soda. It isn’t, so the warlock shrugs and goes to sit back down, when all of a sudden, the sound of paddling returns, this time coming from portside. Jojan, this time, wastes no time, and hurries portside to see what’s creating the paddling noise. Again, he’s met with nothing, and the noise disappears. Frustrated and a little uneasy now, he begins to make his way back to the center of the deck, when he’s hit from the noise, louder this time, so much louder, coming from the bow and the stern of the ship. Jojan can’t very well split himself in half to look, so he stands there, eyes shut, praying the sound will soon fade. And that it does, but poor Jojan is quickly met with something else.
A voice that begins to sing. From all directions at once, echoing, but whispering, a chilling voice, seemingly a woman’s voice, sings:
What to do with a drunken sailor
What to do with a drunken sailor
What to do with a drunken sailor
Early in the morning?
There’s a pause, before it continues, this time only coming from the bow of the ship.
Throw her o’er the bow and drown her
Throw her o’er the bow and drown her
Throw her o’er the bow and drown her…
And then, suddenly, as if standing directly behind Jojan now, it whispers, “Early in the morning…”
And then it’s gone. And so is any noise. And Jojan is alone… and he is freezing.
