Even after his terrifying high-seas disaster with Shiro, there's something comforting about wading back into the water. This is the vessel by which new life enters Trench, after all. For plenty of unfortunate sailors, it's also a massive grave. And regardless of name or status, the few things Mariana can guarantee are contradictions, unpredictability, and impermanence.
Like so many things in life, the ocean is an uncertain place. And in that uncertainty, Vyng is strangely assured.
As he wades further from land, some of the wool hanging from his body bubbles toward the surface. Mouth clenched to avoid swallowing anything, he plunges himself under. The wind overhead is drowned by the distorted sound of waves vibrating through his very bones. Vyng folds his legs beneath himself, and he sinks toward the sandbar beneath him.
He doesn't dare try to connect with the Pthumerian Ocean. Not yet. He's still finding his equilibrium in this world. But Vyng tries to center himself all the same. In and out, the gills on the druid's neck flare with each breath he takes. Even as his senses become fuzzier from the water's disorienting effects, Vyng's heartbeat slows into a steady rhythm. He slips into a relaxed, meditative state.
But to passersby, it probably looks like some weirdo just dunked himself under the water. And...just isn't coming back up for air.
B. Fire Chat [Anytime in September]:
Cozy bonfires dot the beach at night, while a warm cinnamon scent wafts through the air. One fire, however, is sitting away from the majority of people. For those overwhelmed by crowds, it's a calm refuge — peaceful, quiet, and the perfect distance for letting people's chatter fade under the gentle rush of rolling tides.
Anyone who sits here might be hoping to collect their thoughts and simply observe their surroundings. They would be forgiven for thinking they were alone. Until...
"Hey."
It's the fire.
"Mind tossing in a little more incense, please?"
The fire is talking.
C. Doggy Style [Anytime in September or early October]:
Some people on the boardwalk are treated to an odd sight: A white, pony-sized wolf bowing and prancing around Vyng, who's also on all fours and woofing with delight.
They both suddenly freeze, as if at a standstill. But the silence is broken when the wolf tackles Vyng — who laughs and wraps his lanky arms around the creature, burying his face in the wolf's soft, fluffy fur. Despite her wild nature, the wolf seems happy with this arrangement. She playfully and gently nips him like he's a pup, nuzzles him for pets, and fiercely wags her tail.
As soon as somebody approaches, though, the wolf's ears perk up, alert. Her bright blue eyes focus on the Sleeper up ahead, wordlessly directing Vyng to look into that direction as well.
"Heyo, neighbor!" he calls, waving in greeting.
D. Wildcard: ((Feel free to toss in your own boardwalk scenario! Or plot with me on Plurk or Discord.))
Boardwalk
Even after his terrifying high-seas disaster with Shiro, there's something comforting about wading back into the water. This is the vessel by which new life enters Trench, after all. For plenty of unfortunate sailors, it's also a massive grave. And regardless of name or status, the few things Mariana can guarantee are contradictions, unpredictability, and impermanence.
Like so many things in life, the ocean is an uncertain place. And in that uncertainty, Vyng is strangely assured.
As he wades further from land, some of the wool hanging from his body bubbles toward the surface. Mouth clenched to avoid swallowing anything, he plunges himself under. The wind overhead is drowned by the distorted sound of waves vibrating through his very bones. Vyng folds his legs beneath himself, and he sinks toward the sandbar beneath him.
He doesn't dare try to connect with the Pthumerian Ocean. Not yet. He's still finding his equilibrium in this world. But Vyng tries to center himself all the same. In and out, the gills on the druid's neck flare with each breath he takes. Even as his senses become fuzzier from the water's disorienting effects, Vyng's heartbeat slows into a steady rhythm. He slips into a relaxed, meditative state.
But to passersby, it probably looks like some weirdo just dunked himself under the water. And...just isn't coming back up for air.
B. Fire Chat [Anytime in September]:
Cozy bonfires dot the beach at night, while a warm cinnamon scent wafts through the air. One fire, however, is sitting away from the majority of people. For those overwhelmed by crowds, it's a calm refuge — peaceful, quiet, and the perfect distance for letting people's chatter fade under the gentle rush of rolling tides.
Anyone who sits here might be hoping to collect their thoughts and simply observe their surroundings. They would be forgiven for thinking they were alone. Until...
"Hey."
It's the fire.
"Mind tossing in a little more incense, please?"
The fire is talking.
C. Doggy Style [Anytime in September or early October]:
Some people on the boardwalk are treated to an odd sight: A white, pony-sized wolf bowing and prancing around Vyng, who's also on all fours and woofing with delight.
They both suddenly freeze, as if at a standstill. But the silence is broken when the wolf tackles Vyng — who laughs and wraps his lanky arms around the creature, burying his face in the wolf's soft, fluffy fur. Despite her wild nature, the wolf seems happy with this arrangement. She playfully and gently nips him like he's a pup, nuzzles him for pets, and fiercely wags her tail.
As soon as somebody approaches, though, the wolf's ears perk up, alert. Her bright blue eyes focus on the Sleeper up ahead, wordlessly directing Vyng to look into that direction as well.
"Heyo, neighbor!" he calls, waving in greeting.
D. Wildcard: ((Feel free to toss in your own boardwalk scenario! Or plot with me on Plurk or Discord.))