Chapter Text
===> Be the mermaid
Your name is Kanaya Maryam and you wish that Vriska would slow down. She zips through the water like a torpedo, holding her ridiculous pirate hat in one hand. “Please Slow Down Vriska I Cannot Keep Up With You At This Point” you wheeze after her. She doesn’t slow down at all but instead cackles back at you and flips her tail even faster. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with my speed fussyfangs! Maybe you should spend less time eating and more time swimming” She laughs some more. “Yes You Are Right As Always Vriska I Should Starve And Neglect My Need To Eat, So I Can Keep Up With A Maniacs Pace.” You roll your eyes.
She really is a handful, but that’s what you get for getting the clan's rebel as a best friend. None of the other mermaids could stand her constant teasing and antics except for you. You sigh and pump your tail faster until you are almost parallel with her. She flashes you a smile full of teeth. “I told you that you could do it ::::)” the bottom of the ocean floor has turned into blur and sunken ships have been reduced to brown smudges
“Please...Vriska…Slow...Down”
“Not a chance in hell honey we gotta go to this gr8 place quickly or we won't be able to explore as much”
“I...Am...Positive...We...Can...Get...There...In...Time...Even...If...You...Slow...Down”
You can't breathe. How she keeps this pace is beyond you. Your breathing is ragged, your gills fluttering at a million miles an hour and your movements are beginning to become choppy as your tail starts to rebel against you.
“W8!!!” Vriska throws her hand up and you both stop before you slam face first into the side of a ship. Immediately you double over and clutch your sides. your gills have opened up to maximum trying to suck all oxygen out of the water that you can making it painful to breathe. Vriska punches your shoulder and points up at what is ahead of you. A vast pirate ship looms over your heads. Its wood is already half rotted of. Algae covers all that you can see in a blanket of muddy green.Barnacles form massive colonies all over. Fish duck under the decayed beams and swim in and out of skull eye sockets. The whole thing is so big that you can't possibly take it all in with one glance, but before you can take it all in Vriska is already pulling you forward.
“Vriska I Do Not Think That Exploring Such Rickety Remains Is A Good Idea” you caution “noooooooo! we didn't come this whole way to not go inside! thats a w8ste of adventure kanaya” she tugs you into the remains of the ship and doesn't listen to your protests. Soon as you make it past the first ten feet you are plunged into complete darkness. Its the kind of darkness that you can almost feel pressing in on you. Vriska coughs expectantly at you and you groan.
“Do I Really Have To Do That Now?”
“Unless you want the 8ig scary monsters to get you, then yes!”
you shudder at the thought of something big, intimidating and full of teeth watching you. You think 'light' and your bio-luminescence kicks in. Spots of white light pop out all over your body tracing their way down your spine, on your gills, as well as down your stomach. Underneath your scales light up and the thin flesh between the prongs of your tail glow bright white. “whoooooooo 8a8y look at you, shining like a beautifully demonic flashlight! way to go champ!” Vriska claps you on the back and you wince. you know she is trying to be supportive but your gift for “lighting up like a possessed Christmas tree” (whatever a Christmas tree is) makes you feel like a freak. When you first found out you had the ability to emit light you automatically hated it. It wasn't beautiful at all but shined what you thought was instead a weird ugly light. It rarely ever came in handy except for times like this.
“Hey look over here Kan. i found an eyepatch!!!!!!!!” Vriska says. She has a weird black piece of cloth attached to strings tied to her face. “Take That Off Vriska!!! You Dont Know Where That Thing Has Been. If You Want One So Badly I Can Sew You One But Do Not Touch That Disgusting Thing. It Could Be Infected” You wrinkle your nose. To even think that she had pulled that disgusting thing off of a corpse and put it so readily on her person makes you nauseous. She sticks her tongue out at you and continues to “loot” the rest of the ship.
You ruffle through old chests and look on the floor for little treasures. As you finish digging around in an old wicker box something on the floor catches your eye. It doesn't stand out against the sand floor at all. You bend to pick it up and brush the sand off. Its an oyster, it looks like a good one too. Using your talons you split it just barely enough to peek inside. Sure enough there is a fat pearl sitting inside. You grin at the sight of it, perfect you think. It falls into your bag made of fishing net with a satisfying plunk.
You and vriska spend quite a few hours exploring some more. Only a few things make it into your bag but by the end of the trip you have successfully looted the ship. Between the both of you have quite a haul; a full set of silverware, two new pirate hats, an assortment of string/cloth things (all of which you tried to get rid of multiple times), an antique comb, a sack of gold coins and one oyster.
The swim home is much more relaxing than the one there. Vriska's tail lazily swishes in the water, back and forth in a slow rhythm. You two don't talk much on the way back but just swim side by side. These are the times that you feel especially close to vriska. Not as a friend, but as something more. It's moments like this when you feel like maybe, just maybe, someday you could court her and maybe it could even work.
. . . . . . . .
You are halfway home when you tell vriska to go ahead of you. She doesn't argue just huffs at you and swims away. Her blue tail flutters out of your peripheral vision and you grin.
You drift to the surface, thrust your head through the water and take a gulp of air. The fresh air burns its way down your throat until at last it hits your lungs. Your eyes sweep the shore until they settle on a cluster of rocks. a figure reclines on its surface under a black umbrella, her books lie untouched. you crawl just under the surface until you reach her. You are careful not to wake her when you gently place the oyster on the edge.
Your eyes find the girl again. Her hair falls over her face slightly and her mouth is turned down at the edges in a slight frown. Its when she sleeps that she looks like the child she used to be. The truth is that you have been watching this human girl for years. Of course, you don't like to call it watching, because that just sounds creepy. Instead you call it observing, watching over her, because that is really what you are doing. Really. She first appeared when you were only three sweeps old. You remember that day clearly because it was the first day that you had ever seen a human, and it was the first time you ever approached shore.
===>Be past Kanaya Maryam
I t was raining, hard. You only noticed when your head broke the surface and felt the pelting of water on your head. The ocean around you was indignant, thrashing its waves violently in a rage. A cold sea wind accompanies it, howling morosely in your ears to the lonely tune of waves crashing. you are tossed around as you struggle to make your way to the shore swimming on the surface is too hard, the sea water is relentless, pummeling you from all angles and so you duck under the water. Diving deep into the ocean, you glide with your belly almost touching the floor. When you come up again you see a group of rocks somewhere near the shore and you fight your way too it. It isn't until you are safely nestled between the grey boulders that you notice someone is sitting on the rock above you not 5 feet away. You shrink down timidly, and thank your stars Vriska isn't here, she would have laughed at the way you trembled. It’s the first time you've ever seen a human, and she is much different than you thought people were like. You grew up hearing about grotesque men with eye patches, white whiskers, with three rows of teeth and only had one leg. They were the things of nightmares that older mermen and mermaids would tell wrigglers about. They were crude, dirty people who would capture you in moldy nets if they saw ever saw you. But this human, she was different. You look at her cautiously, looking for any signs of extra teeth or whiskers. She didn't look dangerous at all. You continue to observe her, your hungry eyes taking every detail in so that you could rehash it to your friends later. The human was small, young, with a shock of white hair that fell over her face, dripping in water. Her body is curled into a ball as she convulses. She shakes and you wonder if she is okay. It doesn’t look healthy the way her nose drips and how red her eyes are. Her mouth seems to quiver and small noises escape her. The human, you've decided to call her not-whiskery, is hunched over, and hastily wipes at her eyes and looks out onto the ocean. She is still emitting little sobs but they are less intense now, and her breath even starts to even out.
That is when you notice it.
A small bruise blossoming on the young girl’s cheek. Your heart swells with something. Anger? Hatred? Yes it is one of the two, and it is directed towards whoever did this to her. You haven’t spoken a word to her but already you feel a strange protectiveness and you wish that you could help this wilted human in some way but you know you can’t.
You don’t know how long you both wait there, you watching, as she sits unaware of your presence.
In the house, at least you assume it is a place of dwelling, lights are flickering on and off and loud crashes come from within its marble walls. This must have some significance because the girl begins to tremble. “Rosey? Rosey darling where are you? I’m so sorry baby it won’t happen again! Please come back! Rosey? Rosey? Where are you baby girl?” a watery voice pierces the air. The human looks back at the house and wipes her tears and masks her face in a cold expression on and walks back to the house. Her face looks like the stony marble walls now, cold and expressionless. You wonder how someone so young could have mastered her emotions so well. Just as she casts one look back at the rolling water she mouths something under her breath. You don’t have to speak her language to know it’s a prayer to some higher power.
Your stomach tightens, right beneath your gills and you wish there was something you could do. You wish you could call out to her, stop her from going back into that house, but you can’t and a feeling of uselessness creeps its way into your head. You wait until you see the doors swing shut until you slide beneath the water and make your journey back to the colony.
When you enter back into the camp you brush your friends away and don’t say anything to anyone. You never let them know what you saw that day.
==>Be the human
Your name is Rose Lalonde and you really hate your house. Sure, it's big and yes you know you have everything you want but something about the towering white walls are toxic. If you spend too much time inside you begin to feel closed in, like a weight is dropped onto you. Your chest begins to tighten, your lungs feel like they are collapsing in on themselves and a cloud of overwhelming depression begins to set in until your brain declares that enough is enough and you have to run out of the big oak doors. Those are the times when you are glad you live by the ocean. When you were younger you would love to climb onto the big rocks off the shore and sit watching the waves. The ebb and flow of the waves and the sound of seagulls brought a solace that you now found at the bottom of the glass or in the depths of your journal. But as you aged you never did really abandon your rock. Maybe it was some bit of you that was still a sad child that remembered the calmness that came with rock that continually drew you back. So even now that you are 17, you still go and sit. you bring books, a black umbrella and a towel with you. And so you sit, and write, and sit, and read, and sit and cry, and drink and laugh and sit some more and you never do anything else.
==>Be the past mermaid again
You are now 4 sweeps old. It’s dark again. That’s the only time you can see the human. She isn’t there today, for some reason. You had hoped that she would be, but the rock is as empty as ever. You skim through the water silently although you know there is no one around to hear you. In your hand you hold a shell. Its insides are light milky lavender and they reminded you of the human’s eyes. You found it one day when Vriska forced you and Tavros to come “explore old pirate ships ::::)’ with her and decided to leave it on the rock as a present. You imagine her face would light up when she found the little treasure. Maybe she would take it back into the marble structure and keep it on her dresser. Maybe she would look out at the sea and wonder who left it for her. Or maybe, just maybe, she would start believing in miracles again.
. . . . . . . .
You are now 6 sweeps old. you have been leaving your human presents for 2 sweeps now. Somewhere along the those years you have known her, she evolved from the human to your human. You’re not sure how that happened. maybe you left the “the” behind along with the countless gifts. you dont know what humans find valuable so you give her a bit of everything. today it is a bent metal object with some sort of scooping device attached to the end. on the other end is some sort of rock. Personally you like it for the way it sparkles and you hope she does too. Its the usual routine when you approach her rock. Duck under the water, look, duck, swim a bit, look again until you reached her. Then wait for her to fall asleep, walk away,or get immersed in her book and leave it on the ledge and swim away. You've never lingered long enough to see her actually find the object but you hope she likes it.
. . . . . . . .
You are still 6 sweeps, but today is the first time you have gotten anything in return. It's not much, just a bit of her left over orange-juice-ball. It sits on a napkin, orange, glistening. You hold it up to the light, admiring how the light shone through the translucent slice. You aren't sure how you are supposed to eat it. After slight thought you pop it in your mouth and crunch down with your teeth. All of a sudden juice floods your taste buds. It tastes like the sun feels, with all the cool freshness of a breeze. You savor the last of it, disappointed when the taste fades from your mouth.
That night you dream of sunshine.
==> Go back to being current Rose
Like most days your mother began her morning off with a drink. you knew this because as soon as you came downstairs your nose caught drift of the pungent smell of her martini’s. you say that plural because she always starts off with three or four. you double back to your room to slip on your old bathing suit and throw on a tank top before creeping your way down stairs. The second step creaks like it always does, and the wizard statues glower at you from every angle. You make a quick stop at the kitchen; grab an orange and a glass of water. Your umbrella, bag, and sunscreen are just where you left them from the day before and you grab them and dash out the door hastily, wanting to avoid any contact with your mother. The ocean is calm today, barely any waves break its cool glass surface and a comforting gust of wind promises you a serene day. You lay out your towel on the rocks surface and wedge your black umbrella, a gift from your friend jade, into one of the crevices to serve as a refreshing spot of shade. After you are situated, you begin to slather sunscreen on your pale skin (curse the Strider-Lalonde genes) and set back to enjoy the sun.
You end up falling asleep and don't wake up until the sun has taken its position half way in the sky. You lazily blink your eyes and peer around. The waves haven't moved much, the rock is the same, in fact it’s almost like the world stood still as you slept. All except for something resting at the edge of the rock. It's... An oyster? Sitting up you hastily grab it and inspect it. It's the size of the palm of your hand, rough grey, with dark striations. You rub your thumb across the lips of the shell. Your bag always has an assortment of odd and ends so you aren't surprised when you find a fork wedged between your book and journal. You jam the metal prongs and pry the shells apart.
A gasp escapes your lips.
In the center of the oyster lies a flawless white pearl. You pick it up, cradling it between thumb and index finger. It looks so beautiful that you feel if you apply even the slightest amount of pressure you will shatter it. Out of all the gifts you've ever gotten this is the only one that has ever left you speechless. You don’t have to wonder who left it, you already know.
When you were a kid things would appear on your rock ever few days. A shell, old jewelry, an interesting rock, just little odds and ends. One time you got a rusty spoon, you thought at first there would be some redeeming quality but on inspection you found it was simply an ordinary spoon. Everything you ever received you put in a shoe box that you kept under your bed. In especially lonely times you would take them out and inspect them. They never failed to bring a smile to your face.
But this, this pearl, it was something different. To simply shove it in a dusty box only to be opened once in a while would be a sin. No, you had to find something finer to put it in. The metal bracelet on your wrist gives you an idea; you stand up to go. Then you think again and sit back down to dig your journal out of your bag.
Dear mysterious gift giver,
My name is Rose and I am the girl you have been leaving things on this rock for years. I’m not sure who you are but I am grateful for all the gifts you have entrusted me with. As a token of my appreciation please accept my bracelet. It’s not much I know but I hope that you can accept it. If you would like to keep in contact with me my pesterchum is tentacleTheripist
Thank you,
Rose Lalonde
You sign with a flourish and hold the paper in front of you to inspect your handiwork. Deciding that it is good enough you rip it out of your journal and place it where you found the oyster. You unclasp the bracelet and leave it on the edge of the note as well as a pen and an extra piece of paper in case they want to write a note back.