04-16-2023, 12:08 AM
i never wanted saving, i just wanted to be found --
She was not accustomed to the tension that was pulling at her.
It felt as if someone had sparked electricity underneath her skin, like something was crawling and searching for a way out, and she did not know how to rid herself of the feeling. She did not like that she felt distracted, as if her mind was trying to drag her focus to something else, something she could not quite place.
The world had turned upside down (or more accurately had finally righted itself—a few things were still out of place, scattered to who knows where, but more or less Beqanna was back to normal), and she supposes that is reason enough for her to be on edge. It’s what she has decided to place the blame on, at least.
Underneath the ocean, though, everything still felt quiet.
She can’t remember the last time she had lost herself in the sea; perhaps that was a small part of her irritability and distraction. It had been a regular habit, especially when Tephra still existed. The tranquil waters of the volcanic kingdom had been her sanctuary, her home; where Varick taught her as much as he could, despite her own limited kelpie abilities.
The constant din of conversation, the birdsong, the brightness of the sun—they all fade away, replaced by the dull rush of water, and a darkness that deepened the further she descended.
She isn’t sure how long she stayed down there.
Long enough for her mind to quiet.
Long enough for her nerves to settle.
Long enough for her to further decipher why she felt so scattered, and long enough for her to decide it was something that was better suited locked away.
She returns to land, surfacing from the waves as they roll to meet the southern shore, where the river spills into the ocean. Water drips from her in streaming rivulets, her scales glistening in the sunlight; seashells have found themselves tangled into her crimson mane, and her water wings cascade across her sides. Though she is not as ocean-made as her father, she is, at least in this moment, a vision of a siren emerging from the sea.
She does not shake the excess water from herself, and her untamed mess of hair has already started to dry in tangled waves, further embedding the seashells into it, but she decides that is a problem for a different day. With the waves crashing behind her she releases a soft sigh, unsure where to go from here.
It felt as if someone had sparked electricity underneath her skin, like something was crawling and searching for a way out, and she did not know how to rid herself of the feeling. She did not like that she felt distracted, as if her mind was trying to drag her focus to something else, something she could not quite place.
The world had turned upside down (or more accurately had finally righted itself—a few things were still out of place, scattered to who knows where, but more or less Beqanna was back to normal), and she supposes that is reason enough for her to be on edge. It’s what she has decided to place the blame on, at least.
Underneath the ocean, though, everything still felt quiet.
She can’t remember the last time she had lost herself in the sea; perhaps that was a small part of her irritability and distraction. It had been a regular habit, especially when Tephra still existed. The tranquil waters of the volcanic kingdom had been her sanctuary, her home; where Varick taught her as much as he could, despite her own limited kelpie abilities.
The constant din of conversation, the birdsong, the brightness of the sun—they all fade away, replaced by the dull rush of water, and a darkness that deepened the further she descended.
She isn’t sure how long she stayed down there.
Long enough for her mind to quiet.
Long enough for her nerves to settle.
Long enough for her to further decipher why she felt so scattered, and long enough for her to decide it was something that was better suited locked away.
She returns to land, surfacing from the waves as they roll to meet the southern shore, where the river spills into the ocean. Water drips from her in streaming rivulets, her scales glistening in the sunlight; seashells have found themselves tangled into her crimson mane, and her water wings cascade across her sides. Though she is not as ocean-made as her father, she is, at least in this moment, a vision of a siren emerging from the sea.
She does not shake the excess water from herself, and her untamed mess of hair has already started to dry in tangled waves, further embedding the seashells into it, but she decides that is a problem for a different day. With the waves crashing behind her she releases a soft sigh, unsure where to go from here.
adriana
this post doesnt even say anything, you dont even to read it. tldr she's standing on the beach.