ofseagraves

[ofseagraves]

            place :     the lake ,   the woods .             time :       nine days ago ,   nighttime .             for :          @ofdeliverance​ !

     it began as a possibility.   even less so, the possibility of a possibility.   one day,   she’d remembered the beauty of grass,   or touch,   or warm smells,    and after what seemed a long slumber,    she’d awakened again with the ache of uncomfortable    clothes     and thick-toothed combs to brush her hair.     she didn’t know how long it had been,  human time always slipped right through her fingers, she’d never bothered to learn how it ticked   and ticked   in seconds and minutes and hours and days, weeks, months,    years.   the shoreline of Creation Peaks remained the same.    the salmon-like roads to reach were still the same,   though harder now without the mutual-aiding of her sisters to swim up.

     she’d lurked,  found her cave once again and noted that all her little trinkets remained there    -a surprise,   though she figured either the locals had enough urban legends about touching shiny things in the wild to scare even the biggest of non-believers, or the access to the cave was just...  too much haste.   too deep,  too dark,  too far until reaching that one pocket of   air.    for her,  it was no issue.    there was no moonlight in there,   only able to see by the grace of her still-unchanged eyes.   the cave was beautiful,  and hers alone.    amongst her things,   she found a stone that could be confused for a charcoal still intact,   and smiled. upon closer inspection, it glistened as though something within it was shining, no outer light source to reflect off on.     that,  her one necklace,   silver and long, with a heavy moonstone pendant that hung at her solar plexus.    the mermaid ventured off again into the water,    and when she emerged once again,  she did so to reach the shoreline.

       the process to dry was always long,  tedious,   but at least for the first while,   merida enjoyed it.   at some point,     she saw her scales shed,  glistening under the moonlight,  and her body take the form of the human she’d practically forgotten she could be.     forms in the dark became less detailed,   though not lost just yet,   the webs and claws that made her hands now reabsorbing and retracting to reveal the dewy skin of a maiden forgotten.    a sigh,  clear hues looked up at the moon,   then she stood.   and fell.    of course,   legs.   the cliché existed for something.    the mermaid shook her head,  puffing out her cheeks, then tried again,   her bare body barely even noticed to her as her body   remembered   how to do the    walking   once again.   

        once she’d gotten the gist of it, the mermaid turned her back to the lake and walked,   as she’d arrived to the shoreline,   a sight for   -hopefully-   no human lurker to behold and be beautifully haunted by.        just a few steps in,   of course,   lest she wanted to really venture off into town like some maker had brought her into the world   -   kind of.       the sharp stone was layered, porous,  and the water hadn’t done any favours to it,   nor had time.     putting it inbetween her hands,  she pressed until the shards of glass-like stone drew blood as they dug into her skin, then let it all drizzle down onto the sand, a mixture of blood and ancient stone.     the shadows from the pier were just a couple of steps away.             “    ze-el,   “         her voice came out in a sing-song-esque tone.

#i - am so sorry this is long as heck #don't feel the need to match or anything i just wanted to ramble about her coming out of the water #ofdeliverance #* convo. #* para.

[ofseagraves]

fayeoflightboi​:

|

Coming to terms with the fact that angels and demons were apparently a thing, the Light Faye mopped from establishment to establishment trying not to collapse into a much needed sleep that kept alluding him. He was on his second croissant and fourth coffee cup, sitting at his table with papers and photographs thrown around as he made notes on a worn notepad. 

The voice that called his attention brought him from a turmoil of questions that spawn more questions rather than answers. Looking up, his head tilted as he studied the woman before him for a moment. “Judge Dredd is good,” he advised with a shrug. “300,” Marshall added with a slight tilt of his head. 

      judge dredd,   something in it rung a bell.      “    is it sort of an Inspector Gadget thing but in comic books?    “      she asked,   turning her head fully to look at whoever had responded to her.     he was a fine man,   his flesh tender and supple sat atop of his bones.  and ---   stop.    merida chuckled softly and let her hands fall gently to her sides.        “    honestly,    i’ve never been that big on comic books,   so i have no idea what i’m doing.    closest i got was  ---  maybe Space Ghost From Coast to Coast,  on tv.     “

#fayeoflightboi #* convo.

[ofseagraves]

lovclychaos​:

as  kelly  took  a  step  closer  she  smiled  at  the  blonde woman  behind  her,  she  had  been  making  a  to-do  list  in  her  mind  and  she  had  even  forgotten she  wasn’t  the  only  one  inside  that  place.  she  ordered  a  triple  nonfat sugar-free  mocha  latte  for  her  boss,  before she  ordered  a  triple  caramel  whip  half-sweet,  skim,  iced  vanilla cappuccino.  the  drink  she  ordered to  herself  when  she  wanted to  reward  herself. as  she  heard  the  woman  talking  behind her,  she  turned to  look  at  her.  “  as  far  as  i  know  it’s  like  a  latte  but  with  less  milk  ”  she  confessed.

/*

    the words that came out of the brunette were a string of some of the strangest things she’d heard,   and she couldn’t quite make out the meaning of them.     she could just say words,  and drink would come out the other way?         “  well,   compared to  whatever  you just got,   a   flat white   now sounds plain boring.    “       merida conceded,   practically thinking outloud.      when it was her time to order,   she didn’t even hesitate.      “   i’ll have what she had  -  that second one.    but instead of a capucchino,   could you make it two shots of espresso, and cinnamon?     thank you.    “        the smile that now adorned her lips was charming,  something about the whole interaction made her happy.     it had been a long,   long   time.      moving off the ordering space,   she leaned against the counter to wait for her   ---   strange coffee.

*/

#* convo. #lovclychaos #lovclychaos:kelly

[ofseagraves]

                  place :     geeks & freaks                   open starter @risingpeaksreblogs​

               merida was enjoying being back on dry land,   really.     after so long,   she’d forgotten how humans were actually of her liking:    with their weird,  changing habits,   and their overdramatic expressions upon daily inconveniences.     the depths were different.     in language,   in the passing of time,    in the concerns.     she changed when she was out of the water,   and it was always fun to rediscover that    person    she could be when the instinct to devour passed to a second moment in time.     fist of all,   she had to know where she stood.    the businesses in town had changed,   so she got to be a tourist and walk around with the tips money from the night before,   her lengthy hair braided back in a    -laugh all you want-    braided fishtail,   and sun glasses,  because the sun was still too harsh on her eyes.      she’d wandered into a peculiar - looking commerce,    and was skimming through the shelves without much of an idea on what she was searching for.     she could recall comics, of course, but not if she’d quite liked them or not.   eventually she’d find her way around to the local library,  or figure out the new trends.            “   any recommendations?    “         she asked distractedly,   trying to be  --  friendly to the person that was just in the corner of her panoramic view.

*//

#risingpeaks.starter #* convo.

[ofseagraves]

imperfecttorres​:

open starter @risingpeaksreblogs

It was a quiet night at The Rumblin'- or rather, as quiet as it could be, given the music that blasted from the speakers, a bass line so deep that Hannah could feel it thrum in her chest. She knew that as the night went on, more and more people would come by, but she was enjoying the stagnancy at the moment. A lull in customers meant she could wipe down the bar or chop up limes and oranges and other fruits that usually ended up getting throw out at the end of the night. What a waste, she thought to herself as she rinsed off the cutting board.

Hannah was debating if she should step outside for a moment, get some fresh air before things really got busy, but out of the corner of her eye she spotted someone making their ways towards the bar. And just like that, Hannah straightened and smiled. Hello. I'm here to serve you and I'm so damn thrilled about it.

"Hi, what can I get for ya?" She was supposed to be nice, and friendly, and non-judgmental of the customer's drink of choice, a conversation her manager had already had with her once this week, but Hannah couldn't stop herself. "Just- don't tell me you want a negroni. Sbagliato. With prosecco."

*//

     hannah had arrived at rather the same time that she had,  or so she’d puzzled together.   she was a nice girl,  in the way that girls were nice of course.    non - human,  and that much she could tell by glance alone.    witches were a gamble,   they always had been,  but what   kind   of witch she was,   that --- she had no idea.     she tried to remain quiet at work,  go through the motions of platters full of things and tables full of drunkards half-screaming things at her over the sound of the music.    in a turn of events,  she quite enjoyed what she now knew was a variant of   hard bass.       the deep rumbling gave her a strange sense of peace,   made the thickness of the air less dense for her still-adapting lungs  -  metaphorically speaking,  of course.   if her lungs were still adapting,   she   would   be sushi.

     just as she was dropping off a couple of empty glasses from one of the two only occupied tables,   merida caught the line of dialogue and couldn’t help but frown.    she watched the whole interaction,   how the other laughed a bit awkwardly and asked for a gin tonic,  and a martini with a twist.        “   you can wait at the table and i’ll bring it over in a minute,   if you want.   “       the club scene was different,   but it was always the same.       the pair complied to the offer and wandered off to a table nearby to wait more comfortably.     leaning against the bar,   merida arched her brows and smirked cheekily.               “   i’ll take a negroni,   sbagliato,  with prosecco .   “        and alcohol was still the same.

*//

#merida: is gay without knowing #* convo. #imperfecttorres

[ofseagraves]

lovclychaos​:

open  to  :  @risingpeaksreblogs​

location  :  three  spoons

even  after  months had  gone  by,  kelly  still  woke  up  every  single day  feeling  like  this  was  a  dream. she  was  dragged into  this  place, not  by  anyone  but  she  soon  thought about the  fact  that  something  side  of  her  brought  her  there,  and  it  must  have  a  reason, maybe  because  she  just  wanted  to  live  in  the  place  her  family was  from.  not  that  she  could  complain  though,  creation  peaks  was  the  place  she  lived  the  first  ten  years  of  her  life.  kelly  was  focusing  on  her  job  mostly.  today  was  no  excepion,  only  leaving  the  town  hall  to  grab  her  boss  and  herself a  cup  of  coffee.  she  got  in  her  mind  for  a  second  as  she  waited in  line,  seconds later  she  snapped out  of  it  as  the  person  behind  her  told  her  to  move.  “  sorry  i  was  lost  in  my  thoughts ”  the  werewolf said  as  she  got  closer to  the  front  of  the  line,  but  she  turned  around  to  look  back  at  the  person behind  her.

    people were less attentive now,  they were all hung up on those rectangular devices and getting lost in some shiny picture after another - which was rather entrancing for her to look over other’s shoulders and wonder   what is going on inside their heads.    humans had always been peculiar like that, always with their idiosyncrasies and small fixations, she liked them because of it, but this entire -- thing  was still new for her.   as were the new coffee variants.   she was trying to gauge out the nature of those beverages when the barista called for another person and the girl in front of her didn’t seem to notice.     she peeked over her shoulder just barely,  brows arched,  and tried to draw her attention,    “   you have to move.  “    the words sounded off to her,  but she couldn’t quite figure out what was a good way of saying   i want coffee, do you want coffee?  please.      still, when the other turned towards her,   merida offered an apologetic smile,   which faltered rather quickly.     for a few moments, she said nothing else,  wanting the line to be a line and the person to remain a stranger.    the variants of coffee, however...   they were getting the best of her.        “   what the hell is a   flat white ?   “     voice quiet,   arms folding over her chest.        “  i’m  -  sorry,   do you know what a flat white is?   “       the mermaid asked the woman in front of her ;    see,  at least she’d had some sort of interaction with her before.

*//

#* convo. #lovclychaos #heyyyy! i hope this is alright lmao #lovclychaos:kelly

[ofseagraves]

ANYA TAYLOR-JOY Vanity Fair

#no shut the fuck up what the hell #merida mirror.

[ofseagraves]

Whatever you think you know about MERIDA CARCOLL, the 27/312 year old, BISEXUAL, SEASONALLY REAPPEARING, it is likely time for you to start reconsidering. the rumored MERFOLK is often described as DETAIL-ORIENTED + QUICK-WITTED, but don’t let them fool you; they can also be MANIPULATIVE + DETACHED, which often has them regarded as the THE SHARK. they are a WAITRESS at THE RUMBLIN’, but it’s also said they are a ROUGE CITIZEN. whatever you hear, you can’t deny there’s more to them that meets the eye, and it’s time we start uncovering the truth.

(Current) Name: Merida (Merfolk name), Merida Carcoll (last name made up in a whim on her first time on land), Marie Day Carcoll (1800′s), Daisy Coll (1700s) Nicknames: Mer, Riddie (by her sisters) Age: 27 (appears), actually about 312 years. Date of birth: Unknown Place of birth: Unknown/tba Sexual orientation: Odd question for her, but bisexual Gender: Female, in strange, possibly changing terms. The labels aren’t from her own species, so she just - goes with it.

Present:

It has been a long time since Merida has been around, at the very least ten or fifteen years. Once upon a time, however, she used to come into town every year around the same time in company of her family, following the seasonal events of the changing of tides to arrive ashore into warmth. It was the season of emerging, and her mother had been a very adamant believer of not losing the habit of blending amongst humans, “be it someday we need it and we can’t adapt anymore”. The dangers always existed, but adaptation was a necessary evil for a species such as theirs.

Merida doesn’t know her birth date, or where it was. Not in human terms, at least, hence the information is rendered not only useless, but also impossible to understand. She knows it’s been a long time, at least three centuries in human terms, because she’s seen them, gone through them. The changing times like tides that come and go and collision one against the other. This shore isn’t the only one they emerge to, but one of the places where her and her family have found more respite.

Now, she’s decided to rejoin the old tradition, mostly nudged by her sisters that don’t want to see her knotted up in a sailor’s net, and insist that the human society has changed too much for her not to see it at least for a few weeks. So she arrived by the usual salmon-like roads to the lake, and look lodge in the local Manor, which serves more as a -- deposit of random and estranged things for her to use while she’s on land, while she mostly returns into the lake during the nights (WANTED CONNECTION FOR WHERE SHE’S STAYING).

She has no phone, no instagram facebook, anything, and is really just getting the gist of the new era, much to her surprise. For this reason, she’s mostly been rather quiet and measuring of people, with her nose buried in a book, or working at The Rumblin’ and trying to gauge out what the hell is the music they’re playing. At least, waitressing is always the same.

Latest brush with tragedy:

The year 2006 was, however, more risqué than others, at least for Merida. Somewhere along the shore of the South American continent, she lost the thread. She’d always had a defiant bone, but never in so many years alive had she dared to actually go against her mother’s wishes and defy what she declared once she did so - except that time. It’s a cliché, the story always goes the same: she was beautiful, rowing the little boat trying to get ashore in a complicated night. So Merida helped her from below, without her knowing she led the wide-eyed, frightened woman to safety and away from the protruding rocks that her weak, human eyes couldn’t make out in the thick of the stormy, moonless night. The woman passed out inside the sanded rowboat, and Merida remained guarding it from further dangers until sunrise came. Her features were wonderfully carved out, like chiseled out of her dreams, with long lashes and sweet cheeks that made her out to be a cherub. The shipwreck? Well --- it was hunting season, as it usually was, and her and her family were on the lookout for a cruise like that.

Merida stayed around to see her whenever she came to the beach. Somedays, with extravagant hats and flowy dresses, others with just the skin of her shoulders to keep her shelter from the abrassive sun. One day, the human woman ventured off to sea again in a little kayak, and Merida followed - as she did (her sisters were becoming increasingly worried, but it wasn’t like this was the first time it’d happened. Before, with a man, and another time too, when she’d decided the ship they were trying to board was the wooden coffin of her most beloved). Forgetting her own nature, the mermaid emerged slowly, like a nervous child, to make herself known, and revealed herself to the eyes of the mesmerized woman, whose mouth gaped and eyes widened and she was suddenly stuck between horror and awe. Miles from the shore, she was suddenly awestruck when Merida spoke, leaned over to her when she drew closer and arms brushed sunkissed skin.

The rest is a tragedy. In reaching for her, Merida forgot the weak nature of human and their collapsible lungs, and the woman met her maker under clear waters and shining sun. Merida didn’t feed on her, that wasn’t the point. She was suddenly left with a cadaver of her idealized beloved, and her sisters dragged her by the arms and tail back down to the murky depths of the open graveyard they called home.

After that episode, Merida retreated to the depths, where she’d always preferred to be nonetheless. Her legs forgotten, her hair lost the last human dye she’d put on it not long after. She dismissed the orders from her mother to go back on land for the season and became more solitaire than she’d previously been, only joining her family for the moments of hunt, and sometimes not even then: scuba divers were just as susceptible as any other in a boat.

Past eras:

Humans are more susceptible to time, this she knows. She’s had to bury her fair amount of acquaintances. Because of this, she’s gone with a few names through the ages, when she can’t afford to go with Merida Carcoll, be it because she made something of herself in the last fifteen years and it would rise suspicious eyebrows, or because times have changed. Somewhere, there’s a few portraits of her, scattered through time and space. Same big eyes, same deep gaze and cutting cheekbones, different hair lengths and colours to vary, different dress codes for different eras.

She’s been known as Mary Day Carcoll, Daisy Coll, and probably a few more (was it ever Colette Mayday?). Once upon a time she was merely a passing lady with her sisters, employed as nothing, dwelling in the sun all day, dancing and drinking champagne for the best of the nights; other time, she was employed in the apothecary, alleged distant cousin of the late owner, then a school teacher as Miss Daisy.

//

(Basically, this was all very vague and gay and I’ll probably expand as things happen. I’d love to get some connections for her from when she was previously here through the ages, as well as any other kind of connection: old friends, new friends, enemies, predators, possible food -not-, infatuations, creatures she’s known in her other identities, that recognize her from some type of portrait that they somehow have of her, whatever honestly, etc. She’s rather feral as of now, after twenty-so years in the depths.)

Personality traits:

Curious

Charming

Quick-witted

Sarcastic

Reserved

Poetic

Intense

Adamant

Stubborn

Intelligent

Manipulative

Adaptive

And, as for me, my name’s Ai/Ailie, I’m 23, I study History and I’m an absolute nerd from Argentina.

#about merida. #risingpeaks.intro