07. spam

[godsays]

[ He builds you, in his mind, from the slivers of sight and sound that fall through the cracks of your world into his. He catches the curve of your hand, the glance of sunlight off of hat and hair, through the gaps of rope and rigging and rail. He goes still, and lets himself sink, and listens to the muffled half-sounds that hum in the water against his skin. He can hear your voice, from the dim-and-dullness, the quiet riot.

He is a patch of pale skin and a long, winding tail distorted by restless water. He is intrigued, but he is... shy? Cautious.

He will follow you anywhere there is water to swim. ]

[ ooc: Zane is a merperson who is spying on everyone, particularly people he finds intriguing or dangerous. This is especially open to people that we've plotted/discussed him stalking, but also open to... yep, pretty much everyone who wants to spot a mercreeper.

Also available for general interaction for fellow water-and-island-creatures! ]

Comments

[patheticvillain]

Oh.

[He looks away, looks back.]

Have you ever wanted something more than you've ever wanted everything else in your life put together?

[godsays]

[ He considers this a beat too long. ]

No.

[ It could be he is lying. ]

[patheticvillain]

[He smirks, fingers brushing against his tail again.]

You sure?

[godsays]

[ The fins flick a splash of water into Cassel's face. ]

What do you want?

[patheticvillain]

[He laughs, flicking the water right back - not that it matters, Zane's all wet anyway.]

What I heard last night, I think it was a girl. And I think she could rip me apart.

[godsays]

You want to be ripped apart? Let those cracks open, let the ocean flood in and break you.

[patheticvillain]

You offering?

[godsays]

Merpeople are known for drowning sailors.

[patheticvillain]

You are.

[He sounds delighted, considering.]

But who would you talk to then?

[godsays]

Let's just say that you aren't the thing I want.

[ He has more than this. ]

[patheticvillain]

What is?

Come on, who would I tell?

[godsays]

Anyone who asked.

[ He doesn't trust you as far as he could throw you.

To be fair he could throw you pretty far. ]

[patheticvillain]

Thing is, though, I'm a liar. I spin tales, it's what I do. Nobody believes me. Least not on the little things.

[godsays]

You're clear as glass. They don't have eyes.

[patheticvillain]

I'm not!

[godsays]

Maybe the ocean washed you clean.

[patheticvillain]

[This troubles him deeply.]

It's your fault, then.

[godsays]

Maybe you want me to see you.

[patheticvillain]

I don't.

[Except, maybe he does.]

Maybe you're just looking harder than usual.

[godsays]

It's hard when nobody looks at you. You never know until somebody sees.

[patheticvillain]

You're awful.

[It's actually fairly affectionate.]

Would you really drown me?

[godsays]

[ He can see the longing for it. He can feel that it would be something special, something important. A life given, not taken.

But - ]

No.

[ Maybe he'd untie that knot after all. ]

Not you. Another, yes.

[patheticvillain]

[He nods, not sure whether to be disappointed or not.]

Maybe you could show me, if we're stuck on this island for too long.

A navyman, though. If that's all right.

[godsays]

I'm not part of your fight.

[patheticvillain]

I know that.

. . . Whoever you want, then.