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01-02-2017, 01:44 PM
Syrena
let the water take me
She comes here, because it is always where she comes. Today, she will not be standing with her feet halfway in the sea, but she owes it to the beach to start here. This place was home more than any other in Helovia. Yes, she lived in the Falls, but the sea was always her home, and here she could touch it. So she makes her way from where Kisamoa stands to the outskirts of the marshes, figuring someone might join her, but not really caring if they didn’t.
Eventually, she finds a good place to start. It almost shames her to realize how little attention she’d paid to this part of the beach. But she always went straight over the sands to the edge of the water. Had she ever really looked at what else was around her? But she’s looking now. The bones of creatures she didn’t recognize littered the ground, mixed with dead vegetation and fallen, rotten logs. The smell was terrible. For a moment, she almost leaves.
But she doesn’t. She tries to breath less through her nose though, thinking all the while that it was a shame her magic wouldn’t bring all the dead seaweed back to life. But she could only make it grow. So she trudges into the water, still cold though not unpleasant. Where the muck touches her skin, blues and greens and purples blossom on her skin. Syrena has no magic to help here, no wings or horns. Just her feet and her nose and her mouth and it all smells like hell so basically, feet. And shoulder, for the larger things.
She starts with the smaller things, collecting dead plants and seaweed and shoving them into a large pile, slowly clearing the water. And she finds bones, she begins to make a pile which she’d eventually figure out how to get back to Kisamoa. Probably a whole lot of trips wanting to gag with bones in her mouth. But for now, she doesn’t think about it, but just keeps piling them up. As the smaller objections are cleared away, she begins to turn her attention to the larger driftwood, using her shoulders to shove it too clear of the marshes.
Even with half of Helovia clearing all this crap away, this seemed like a hell of a task. It was going to take for damn ever.
"words"
Eventually, she finds a good place to start. It almost shames her to realize how little attention she’d paid to this part of the beach. But she always went straight over the sands to the edge of the water. Had she ever really looked at what else was around her? But she’s looking now. The bones of creatures she didn’t recognize littered the ground, mixed with dead vegetation and fallen, rotten logs. The smell was terrible. For a moment, she almost leaves.
But she doesn’t. She tries to breath less through her nose though, thinking all the while that it was a shame her magic wouldn’t bring all the dead seaweed back to life. But she could only make it grow. So she trudges into the water, still cold though not unpleasant. Where the muck touches her skin, blues and greens and purples blossom on her skin. Syrena has no magic to help here, no wings or horns. Just her feet and her nose and her mouth and it all smells like hell so basically, feet. And shoulder, for the larger things.
She starts with the smaller things, collecting dead plants and seaweed and shoving them into a large pile, slowly clearing the water. And she finds bones, she begins to make a pile which she’d eventually figure out how to get back to Kisamoa. Probably a whole lot of trips wanting to gag with bones in her mouth. But for now, she doesn’t think about it, but just keeps piling them up. As the smaller objections are cleared away, she begins to turn her attention to the larger driftwood, using her shoulders to shove it too clear of the marshes.
Even with half of Helovia clearing all this crap away, this seemed like a hell of a task. It was going to take for damn ever.
"words"
darya87 | larfsalot
on deviantart
Open to anyone who feels like joining her!
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Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
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