sway with me
wstkeira:
back in havfrue, keira first spies @wsthansung fresh out of the water.
most days that the jolly’s scheduled to reach port, keira finds herself bored out of her mind until they’ve actually dropped anchor. she’s labeled ‘lookout’ more often than not, but the pirates find her glued to the railing even when she’s not told to keep watch, waiting for the chance to lose herself in the crowd on the pier. the men don’t even bat an eye, happy that she’ll be out of their hair while they go about their business.
today, though, a curious sight piques keira’s interest before the crew have even gotten the gangplank ready: a tail splashing just above water, the color striking against the waves even as everything sparkles under the sunlight. she runs closer to the end of the ship just to keep her eyes on it, mouth falling open when a rather human-looking head soon bobs above the water. “i don’t believe it,” she breathes, looking behind her. a frown crosses over her features when she finds none of the men close enough for her to call over with one shout; the expression deepens when she turns back around to find the merman’s disappeared entirely. “oh, for fuck’s sake.”
she struts about the pier fuming. the pirates are too preoccupied with coordinating some raid to listen to her ramble, and while she respects their dedication, gods know she could benefit from being heard for one minute. keira tries to clear her mind with a shake of her head, scowling at the merchant that flashes her a polite smile. what could she possibly do to forget that particular discovery?
just past the booths, she sees a man stumbling along the edge of the boardwalk, arms flailing as he loses his balance one, two times in as many minutes. she snorts, making her way over after he falls to his knees. if she can’t get answers about the first redhead she’s spotted today, she’ll have some fun with the second.
the moment he hits land, he hates it — hates everything. if only his eyes could change color to match his mood, they’d match his hair and what used to be his beautiful tail.
( no, no, no— it shouldn’t be used to be, it can’t be used to be, this is a dream—
it’s not a dream. it’s real. everything truly is gone, and hansung thinks this is the saddest, angriest, and numbest he’s ever felt. )
he tries to stand on wobbly legs, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. there’s so many things he wants to do— wants to scream, to cry, to punch something, to kick and throw a fit or maybe even go back into the water and drown, but the only thing he knows to do that’s actually rational is keep going and try his damnedest to never look back (an impossible thing for him, he knows).
he takes a step and stumbles, though he gets two, three, four— and he’s on the ground. he does the same thing for a while, heading from the shore further into where what he always calls ‘pirates’ seem to gather. he’s always wondered what it’s like with humans, but… he didn’t want to find out this way. he’d rather have the stories told to him by someone on a ship, or even by his mother (but alas, it cannot be so).
so he continues on his way, stumbling along the boardwalk and watching the buildings ever so slowly get closer.
he’s trying his best to stand back up on his own two feet when he sees a girl approach him, and for once he really isn’t in the mood to visit with anyone — especially someone who looks so amused by his struggles.
“leave me alone.”
( he thinks it’d be more menacing if he didn’t fall right back down to his knees the moment he says it. )
