RP:Yellow Meets a Sea Monster

Windy Dunes, Western Rynvale

Shishi and his blonde, twelve year old son are set up fairly nicely on the slope of one of the dunes here where they once called home. The pair of ‘assassins’ sits atop a blanket large enough to house the two of them without more than their feet needing to touch the sand. The vampire is clothed in his usual way, somewhat formally what with the necktie while the boy is more appropriately dressed against the cool winds that have crafted the very sand hills they sit on. The light blue scarf the preteen wears is loose around his neck and the father and son duo are munching on sandwiches, really just meat and bread. The vampire is shaking his food lightly at his child while he explains the subtleties of silently tracking a target through a full mouth, “I don’t know how we’re gonna find this guy if he can fly, Yellow.” Three or four seagulls have already landed near the two of them, squawking and eyeing the snack they’ve brought to the beach...

Oh no! A sea monster! Well, anyone would be excused for thinking it, at least for a moment, as ‘Mac’ emerged from the deeps into the shallows with some old rag twisted about his loins – he’s managed to remember that abrupt nudity emerging from the ocean or on any occasion, really, tends to make land-walkers inexplicably nervous. What he has not learned is that people catching sight of over six feet of perambulating seaweed with two knobby-kneed legs under it might also make them nervous, albeit for different reasons… Anyway, he was sloshing his way ashore, and as he approached the beach it may have been easier to spy the shock of unkempt black hair poking out over the top of those huge armfuls of kelp and seagrass, maybe a glimpse of arm as he struggled to keep the slippery load from spilling. This peculiar sight was also humming a deep, rumblish tune, strangely easy on the ear, kind of catchy in an ear-worm way and simply too cheerful to be hummed by anything that might want to imminently devour a nearly-teenaged boy or his dad.

Shishi listens while his son suggests, “We could ask birds if they seen ‘em.” Arius then turns his attention to the small flock of seagulls gathering around them. The boy flicks a piece of bread at one of the scavenging creatures while asking, “You seen any guys flying around up there today?” The bird misses catching the food in its beak, the bread bouncing off of its face and onto the sand instead where it is quickly snapped up. A few more squawks from the animal might, to the less informed, seem like Yellow is actually getting a response. The more informed will know this to be true. The blonde boy nods, “I see…” and appears to have been about to say something more when the seaweed on legs shambles out of the water and steals his attention. Shishi tilts his head and takes another bite of that sandwich of his, chewing obnoxiously while watching Mac emerge, “What is that?” he asks the beach itself more than he does his apprentice assassin, but Yellow answers anyway, unsurely, “A… seaweed… guy?” before shouting out at the mass of kelp and such, “Ey! What the heck are you!?”

Mcracken was close enough to the pair by then for his muffled reply to be semi-audible, sounding something like “M’cracken”. That was all he had to say, apparently, about that, as there were no mumbles to follow whilst he made a slow, slightly bizarre trek toward the foreshore dunes, where – thankfully upwind of Shishi and his son – he dumped the armful he carried in a great slithering thwap onto the sand. He was on the thin side, was a fact now revealed, and looked too young in the face for the silver streaking his wild, dark mop of hair and contrarily neat, pointed beard. Shin-deep in a mess of kelp, he lifted a hand in greeting to the family, another thing he’s learned is helpful in avoiding conflict. From where he stood, it looked as if Mac had bright red flowers growing out of his forearms and shoulders, a few scattered on his thighs, but as the sharp wind buffeted him these vanished abruptly, leaving behind them only bumps. “Fair day to thee!” he called, bending to pick up an awful old rag. “Thou hast met Kurkaw, then? Hie him from thy presence with a hasty shoo of hand, if he be disturbing thy leisure.” Who was he talking about? He appeared to looking, with one green eye and one pearly-blind one, at that same seagull Yellow was just chatting to.

Shishi says, “That ain’t a kraken.” to his son almost immediately after the armful of ocean flora is dumped onto the shore. “I don’t think that’s what he said…” Arius replies to his father while eying the red floral polyps that retreat in the mild sandstorm, the two of them half-whispering to each other, trying to be polite and probably accomplishing the opposite. Finally the father and son raise hands in greeting to the man, the pair of forced smiles on their faces far too sweet to have not been practiced countless times. “‘Kurkaw’...” Yellow blinks blue eyes that match his father’s towards the seagull he has been feeding and in return being fed information from… Another squawk from the bird prompts a nod from the young assassin-in-training before he calls back out to Mac, “It’s fine. I like him.” The small bit of sandwich that the blonde boy has left is split in half, one part going in his mouth and the other going to Kurkaw who misses catching it again and this time isn’t so lucky to not have three other gulls swarming on him to take away his payment for information brokering. “What are you doing with all that crud?” Shishi asks of the dripping man, “You gonna eat it?”

Mcracken paused to gather up some odds and ends he’d left on the beach, and pick through the seaweed briefly. His approach to the family was punctuated with a couple of bouts of hopping up and down on one leg, while trying to stuff the other leg into that rag he’d been carrying, all the while juggling sea-trinkets taken from among the pile of kelp. As he succeeded in getting one pants-leg on (believe it or not, that rag was a pair of pants) he said,, “Ha-ha! Some be for eating, young sire, though I take it not for repast, my own self. Some be for mending a wound, and some doth look pretty while hanging from a …” he extended a knotty arm, its fore-finger pointing toward the ramshackle dwelling roughly north of the beach. “.. a, uh.. around a den.” Gulls were edging, eyeballing the man with their beady, guilty, greedy little eyes, toward his sloppy pile of sea-plants, he noticed, and his lips fell open. What came out of them was a sharp, startling sound that to the gulls – and anyone else who happened to speak gullish – translated to something fit only for the hearing of hardened avian criminals. The birds took flight, but circled the beach, looking for the opportunity to sneak back for a peck at whatever made the pile smell good. Or bad. It’s kind of relative.. Anyway. Mac had snagged a little bit of the golden-yellow weed in a particularly raggedy portion of his pants-leg, and this trailed and flapped in the sand-laden breeze, the windblown sand sticking to Mac’s wet skin and hair so he looked rather pepper-and-salted by the time he lowered himself into the sand beside Shishi and his son, an action that seemed oddly elderly, quite at odds with the hopping he was doing just a moment before, especially as the man’s bones creaked and cracked in the process. He snatched up the hitch-hiking tag of kelp and flapped it wetly in Yellow’s face. “This be the eating kind.”

Shishi and Arius look northward in the direction of that shack the resident of which had once been their next-door neighbor. When Mac uses some foul language with the gulls Blue just blinks while his son throws both of his hands up to his mouth to stifle a giggle fit. The vampiric father looks back and forth between the pair of seagull whisperers. When the man drops down beside the father and son the younger assassin goes back to examining him, still trying to figure out what manner of creature they’ve come across. Surely this is no ordinary dude. When the ‘eating type’ of seaweed is waved in his face Yellow quickly snatches at it, managing to tear about half of the plant away which he quickly pokes into his mouth. The triumphant smile quickly subsides into a cringing, chewing action, followed by a reluctant swallow and a stuck out tongue that still has a small piece of the weed stuck to it, “That isn’t good.”

Mcracken said, “Thou jesteth not, man-spawn, for it is indeed foul as a witch’s kiss.” His nose wrinkled, as he spoke it. “It will not kill thee… by dint of sheer good fortune on thy own part, unless thou art a pig-fish…” his green eye, the present hue of the distant sea-deeps, squinted at Yellow, and the man shook his head, “.. but of course thou are not one of those.. Never thee mind, then.” His un-matched gaze shifted to Shishi, “Doth this be thine own spawn, sirrah? In any case, it will perish not, I assure thee, by this stuffing of the golden weeds into its maw. However, it be best thou tell it to go leap into the water forthwith, lest it begin to choke on air.”

Then he said to Kerkaw, who was pecking at his leg, “I do not recognise thy sovereignty, thou wing’d mud-prawn! Thou’st be king of nought.. shoo!” He flailed a hand at the bird, but not too violently. “I will call thee King of the Seas when the summer ocean freezeth over!”

Shishi ’s son kind of mimics Mac, wrinkling his nose when the subject of him possibly being a ‘pig-fish’ comes up. Meanwhile Blue squints at the man, trying his best to follow through that accent. “Spawn…” The so called Blue Demon quietly repeats the word to himself while eying Yellow, “Hmm… He’s my son… If that’s what you mean.” Then the vampire laughs a bit, “Choke on air? Heh. What are you talking about?” With a shrug the young assassin assures his father he does not understand either. At the moment he is breathing just fine, but the look on his face betrays just a twinge of worry… Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that stuff so cavalierly? It doesn’t last too long though as the boy seems to be enjoying the chatter between that bird and the purveyor of seaweed.

Mcracken’s jovial manner sunk like a sinking ship in a ship-sized sink hole. Having just come from a long stint of basking at the bottom of the vasty deeps some miles off the Rynvalian Coast, he’d felt refreshed, invigorated in mind and body both, but now that vitality seemed to drain from him utterly as he glanced from ‘spawn’ to man and back again, his brows knotted into a frown of concern. “Nay, sirrah, thou dost lack comprehension of my meaning. The golden weed dost close the lungs to air-breath,” he clambered to his feet unquickly and with further crackling of joints, and pointed to the ocean. “He must go thence, or else..” he cast a somewhat helpless look at the boy, “Trust me, it be best shouldst thou “ he mimed picking Yellow up and heave-ho’ing him into the waves. “No harm will come him by it, this I vow.”

Shishi nods once in agreement that he does not comprehend this man before him. The vampire’s blue gaze bounces back and forth between the ocean, the guy that traipsed out of it, and his son, finally widening when the latter of the three starts gasping for air and patting at his chest. The blonde boy scrambles to his feet and shoots a panicked look his father’s way before dashing clumsily towards the water. There isn’t much time to remove articles of clothing, however shoes are kicked off and that light blue scarf is tossed up into the air, flapping downward onto the sand just as Yellow dives into the surf. Beneath the white foamy surface Arius takes in an aqueous breath and lets out an odd feeling sigh of relief now that he can breathe again. Back on the beach Blue stands, having chased only a few bounds after his son, collecting the scarf and draping it over his shoulder before turning back onto Mac. The vampire’s irises go through a wicked change in hue from an oceanic shade of calm blue to a vibrant, glowing crimson. The change is accompanied by a strange feeling, like there is suddenly something crawling around in the shadows cast by any and every object or person in the immediate area, “What is this!?” The Blue Demon shouts out after seeing Yellow surface with a bright, goofy smile on his face, wave, and dive again. “Eh!? You’re saying he can breathe air anymore?” Fangs are bared in a threatening sneer, how quickly the assassin can turn… “Fix it.” ‘Or else’… Those last two words go unsaid, but hang in the air none the less.

Mcracken’s air of concern had vanished the moment Arius took that first briny breath, replaced by a demeanor of dead calm which did not abate an iota when the boy’s furious father – who now piqued Mac’s interest in a way the majority of land-walkers did not, prompting a squint as he tried to ascertain Shishi’s nature – faced him off in a tone thick-laden with promises of violence. The Seaborn’s reply was soothing, like a warm midnight ocean’s shush: “Thy spawn shall returneth to land soon enough, for he hath not ingested so much of the golden weed that he mayest breathe water for long.” The Old One waded in, neglecting to remove his holey trousers, which were soon sodden to the thigh. “It may behoove thee to chew a little thyself, and join him in his newfound state.” Mac had not encountered a vampire for so long that he’d quite forgotten what one was, though on the beach he’d had a profound sense of something not-quite-alive and well, the fangs kind of gave it away now, jogging faint recall. “.. if thou needest breath at all..” and with that the man took his own smooth dive into the surf, presumably headed to where the boy was playing porpoise.

Shishi puffs out his cheeks when his vampiric threats are met with complete calm. That mild mannered response coupled with the enchantment on that scarf he picked up specifically designed to keep the bloodlust associated with this family’s curse at bay means there will be no attempted murder at the moment. The Blue Demon simply follows Mac towards the water while remarking, “I don’t needest to breathe at all.” after glancing back at some of the seaweed that he apparently doesn’t need to survive underwater… Beneath the waves Yellow is floating, and spinning, and flailing, and all that good stuff, a great grin on the little assassin’s face. Once the kelp bearer appears nearby Arius drifts towards him, waving, trying to speak under the water, probably difficult to understand, “Gwah~! Can I take some of that stuff home with me!? This is cool~! You know!?” That’s what he says, but it is mostly garbled into the sea. Blue remains on the shore, out of the surf, very slowly undoing his tie, but it doesn’t really look like he has any intention of following those two into the water.

Mcracken may have moved on land like a decrepit elder, albeit a sprightly one after his morning ablutions in the deep, but in the water he was deft and supple and quick, slicing through the liquid like a knife. That odd scattering of bumps on his flesh flowered once more, bursting into frond-y scarlet, like anemones.. or more properly, red barnacles.. which they actually were. In a matter of moments he was near enough to Yellow to laugh at the “Blurble~! Blurble-blurble? Blurble!” of the boy’s attempted speech, but he got the gist of it well enough. Yellow would hear the man’s reply as a high-pitched ‘bloop!’ that tickled on the ribs – for sound here was not such an ethereal thing in the sea as it is on land. Mac knew the kelp would wear off quickly, but figured they still had just enough time for a short adventure. Ancient though he was, this land-walker child’s enthusiasm for the water lent the Old One a sense of playfulness.. He gripped Yellow in a webby hand (it hadn’t been webby before, had it?) and took off with the boy in tow, dragging Shishi’s son down to the deeper waters where larger fish swam, schools of them scaled in silver and stripes, others displaying a dazzling array of colors and shapes. There was even, he’d point out, a solitary pig-fish lolling around on the sea-bed like a sunken pink balloon, its stumpy fins ‘walking’ it along in search of food, for the pig-fish is never sated! When he was sure there were no toothsome predators around, he let go of the boy, in case Yellow wanted to chase something, or whatever it is that land-walker spawn like to do.

Shishi ’s son lets out another ocean-muffled “Gwah~!” once he’s down deep with the various fauna of the ocean. That same ‘gift’ he had put to use on the surface to speak with Kurkaw is used again here. “Ey! Wait!” He did indeed go chasing after something, the pig fish to be exact. Feet are kicking and one arm is shoving water wildly away from him in a formless swimming technique while the other arm is flailing to try and get the strange creature’s attention. “Are you a pig-fish?” he blinks, wondering if that question would offend something that might turn out to not be a pig-fish. With a shake of his head he continues, “Are you poisonous? What do you eat anyway? Are you not allowed to eat seaweed?” The questions spill out from Yellow in a continuous stream of consciousness and despite the fact that they are mostly gargles and bubbles the fish should be able to understand them perfectly and should it respond the cursed child will be able to comprehend just as well. On the surface Shishi still waits, by now his own shadow has peeled itself up from the ground and is standing next to him like some poorly drawn black doodle of the vampire. “Shut up.” Blue says to his counterpart of shade, seemingly unprovoked.

Mcracken was glad his buoyant mood this morning had prompted random contact with these dry-land denizens.. for not only was this youngling amusing, it quickly become apparent to Mac that Yellow had some unusual ability when it came to inter-species communication, one not at all unlike his own for comprehending innumerable ocean languages. As much as he may have wished to extend his knowledge of this fascinating trait, it was time for Shishi’s son to surface, for the boy’s lips were turning a faint blue, a sure sign of oxygen deprivation as the kelp’s miraculous properties wore off. Quite rudely (thought the pig-fish) – no time for goodbyes! - Yellow was seized by the arm again and dragged away from his conversation. Mac surged like a porpoise toward the surface and, when they were close to it, he grasped Yellow under both arms and thrust the boy’s head up, hoping it would break through the sea’s choppy skin in time for that by-now-very-necessary dry breath. His own shaggy head was still below, so Mac had no opportunity yet to wonder at Shishi’s dark companion.

Shishi dismisses his family’s curse and sends his shadow collapsing back down to the sloped ground of the dunes all with a simple wave of his left hand. The assassin’s eyes fade back to their usual shade of blue and that odd feeling of creeping darkness subsides when Yellow breaks through the surface and gasps and coughs for air. A bit of sea water is spit out, understandable what with how close they cut that seaweed’s effect wearing off. “Peh. Guh.” These are some of the noises the boy makes while treading water and looking towards shore and his father, “Ey, Blue! I could breathe underwater, like you!” It wasn’t exactly like him, but why correct the kid? The Blue Demon thinks to himself. “Also pig-fish is real! I saw it! Waow.” The vampire throws up his arms in a defeated shrug and spins on his heels to go retrieve that blanket the pair had been sitting on. It should serve as a nice towel to dry the Yellow Diver off once he gets out of the water...

And out of the water they very soon were, Mac keeping the boy in his grasp to prevent accidental lungfuls of brine. The sodden child and his strange oceanic guide would make a foot-slappy path across the compacted, wet sand where sea met land.. Mac’s feet perhaps the slappiest, for they were somehow more paddle-like than when he’d left the shore. “Yes, thou mayest.” He relied to Yellow’s question, rather tardily, while waving to Shishi, “But needs it must remain in the custody of thine progenitor, lest ye once more greedi-gobble it and swim to where a shark might gobble thee in turn!” There were many other dangers to it besides, but to a child – if Yellow was anything like the children of the ocean – simply nothing can trump a shark. “Thy spawn returneth hale and whole, as I vowed,” he said to Shishi, and wandered to his now very odiferous pile of seaweed, which had been deftly picked over for tasty scraps by “King” Kerkaw and his minions in their absence.

Shishi ’s son puffs out his cheeks in a perfect replication of his father’s previous expression when Mac had responded to The Blue Demon’s emergence on the scene so calmly. Shishi gets a glance from the boy as he repeats, “Progenitor...” with a light smile. By now Blue is wrapping the little assassin in the blanket and bopping him lightly on that blonde head of his. The child curiously watches the red barnacles on the strange old man, waiting for them to recede again. Arius quietly wonders to himself if he would be able to talk a shark out of eating him… ‘Who knows?’ is the conclusion he reaches. The vampiric father receives a few pieces of that golden seaweed for safekeeping and says something like, “Aye… well done.” in regards to getting his son back in one piece and not drowned. The cursed duo will start to head off back eastward and Yellow waves his arms beneath that blanket, “Thanks, Mr. Kraken! See you later!” Would they really?