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Description

Next Chapter: www.deviantart.com/waapfu/art/…
Introduction: www.deviantart.com/waapfu/art/…

Nicolai made their attempt at twirling through the water and dancing with the light. Their confidence at swimming was increasing and they had with them an enthusiastic guide. However, as the deep blue and glittering of the sky grew visible, they began to fall behind.

Upon breaching the surface the light revealed that they had returned to that littered beach. It appeared less crowded than Nicolai recalled, and the sight of a few esk picking through the items made it clear why.

A wave took Nicolai by surprise, beaching them prematurely.

The guiding light now stood as a beacon above the two objects they had previously left behind. It invited them to take on another. They stood where they had been deposited; coated in sand and foam, trying to hold firm against the thin sheet of water that still swelled over them. They felt in their body a great hesitance to continue, but felt to their core no alternative.

The night air was bitterly cold on their wet body. Their fur was heavy in its saturation, and the sand moved slowly up the sides of their feet as they were weighed down into it. They emptied their mind, and then their body. The sand and foam and water plopped through to the ground in a wave, leaving them clean and dry.

Nicolai trotted intangibly across the beach. Without so much as glancing at the canister beside it, they hoisted up the shell. It was thin and lightweight, but being as large as themself made it unwieldy. The dancing light above cast rainbows across the polished inner surface, while its outer crust maintained a dull, chalky appearance. A single line of small holes (which Nicolai had already begun to use as handles) made it look like a piece of some strange flute. Emanating from the item was an energy yearning to return to the ocean, and Nicolai was more than content to oblige.

The shallows retained some heat from the long-set sun—a welcome change to the icy depths. Choppy water made it difficult for Nicolai to re-enter the sea, or to navigate the surface. They were tossed to and fro, like a leaf in the wind. Starlit flashes of the shore, the sky, the sea, the shore, the sea, the sky, the shore, all were blips through the froth as they were spun. They tucked their body into the shell, all twelve toes gripping on with all they had, until finally they fell beneath the waves, and the world stilled.

Their grip loosened, stutteringly, like a mechanism rusted into place. They pried one hind leg from the shell, and then the other, to then make slow, strong, rhythmic kicks, and inch their way from the surface towards the shifting ocean floor.

Even through their closed protective membranes, Nicolai could see clearly the way the starlight refracted on the surface of the sea, projecting alien shapes against the underwater landscape they found themself in. In the thin matrix of bluish light was a deep green substance that flowed in the current. It resembled the university lawn that one Autumn when the rain seemed neverending and the humans all fell ill. Much like a wet lawn it too was soft to the touch, brushing against Nicolai's underbelly as they flushed out multitudinous fishes that darted for new cover. It appeared to sprout out of the sand itself.

This was not the place where the shell belonged, but they felt close. On the horizon they spotted a lumpy silhouette, and headed that way.

At a closer distance, Nicolai beheld a fortress of stone. Every divet and alcove was filled with sand and pebbles and shells and from them sprouted tufts of oddly-shaped sea plants. Tiny fishes in a vast array of browns and greys sheltered in every nook and cranny and spilled out like a cloud whenever a bigger, pointier fish got too close.

Above the rocky mounds stood proudly weathered towers, covered in chalky white shells just like the one Nicolai held. Banners and flags of snagged seaweed provided food for whatever animals resided in the shells' opulent interiors. The beings moved about so slowly one could easily miss it, and hugged close to the stone, so every glimpse caught of what lay beneath showed only blackness. A figure formed of five long, connected limbs also crawled across one tower, reaching a single arm out to smother the holes of a shell.

There was no way for Nicolai to naturally attach the shell they held to where its lived-in kin stood, so instead they opted to place it down in a hole nearby, where it could have naturally settled. The rock here was rough and porous, and on close inspection almost looked to be more shell than stone.

When they tried to put it in, something invisible—no, transparent, blocked the way. With a lot of wiggling and a bit of telekinesis they were able to wrench the thing free and deposit the shell.

This transparent thing, however, did not belong here at all.

------

I just realised I forgot to put the white mask on Nicolai's face and if not for the fact that I threw this picture together with the sole purpose of not having to upload the writing as a journal it would haunt me forever.

Checked the event word palette because one time I accidentally covered like twice as many words as needed for a bonus without even trying and it looks like I might've actually managed to not use a single word from the list? This is funny to me.

The shell Nicolai was carrying in this piece is a pāua shell. Pāua are a type of sea snail. The actual animal in the shell is black and amorphous. They're edible (I haven't personally eaten them), but they're primarily known for their iridescent shells. These shells have been used to adorn clothing and jewelery, and in sculpture (notably a common feature in the eyes of Māori carvings), and also used whole as ash trays. A primary predator of pāua is the starfish, which covers the breathing holes in the shell with its arm to force the pāua to detatch itself from the stone and get eaten. Pāua themselves eat seaweed that floats around in the water.

------

This morning I woke up and realised I've been logging batch uploads in a way that is harder both to input and read and there's a far easier approach that I will be applying from here on out.

Nicolai Gets:
Image: 4 (shaded) 2 (full body) 4 (simple bg) 2 (event) || TOTAL GP: 12
Writing: 8 (writing, wc: 842) 10 (event) 6 (storytelling) || TOTAL GP: 24

I Get:
Image: 10 (shaded) 5 (full body) 10 (simple bg) 5 (personal) 5 (event) || TOTAL AP: 35

Writing: 16 (writing, wc: 842) 5 (personal) 20 (event) 8 (storytelling) || TOTAL AP: 49

Description

Next Chapter: www.deviantart.com/waapfu/art/…
Introduction: www.deviantart.com/waapfu/art/…

Nicolai made their attempt at twirling through the water and dancing with the light. Their confidence at swimming was increasing and they had with them an enthusiastic guide. However, as the deep blue and glittering of the sky grew visible, they began to fall behind.

Upon breaching the surface the light revealed that they had returned to that littered beach. It appeared less crowded than Nicolai recalled, and the sight of a few esk picking through the items made it clear why.

A wave took Nicolai by surprise, beaching them prematurely.

The guiding light now stood as a beacon above the two objects they had previously left behind. It invited them to take on another. They stood where they had been deposited; coated in sand and foam, trying to hold firm against the thin sheet of water that still swelled over them. They felt in their body a great hesitance to continue, but felt to their core no alternative.

The night air was bitterly cold on their wet body. Their fur was heavy in its saturation, and the sand moved slowly up the sides of their feet as they were weighed down into it. They emptied their mind, and then their body. The sand and foam and water plopped through to the ground in a wave, leaving them clean and dry.

Nicolai trotted intangibly across the beach. Without so much as glancing at the canister beside it, they hoisted up the shell. It was thin and lightweight, but being as large as themself made it unwieldy. The dancing light above cast rainbows across the polished inner surface, while its outer crust maintained a dull, chalky appearance. A single line of small holes (which Nicolai had already begun to use as handles) made it look like a piece of some strange flute. Emanating from the item was an energy yearning to return to the ocean, and Nicolai was more than content to oblige.

The shallows retained some heat from the long-set sun—a welcome change to the icy depths. Choppy water made it difficult for Nicolai to re-enter the sea, or to navigate the surface. They were tossed to and fro, like a leaf in the wind. Starlit flashes of the shore, the sky, the sea, the shore, the sea, the sky, the shore, all were blips through the froth as they were spun. They tucked their body into the shell, all twelve toes gripping on with all they had, until finally they fell beneath the waves, and the world stilled.

Their grip loosened, stutteringly, like a mechanism rusted into place. They pried one hind leg from the shell, and then the other, to then make slow, strong, rhythmic kicks, and inch their way from the surface towards the shifting ocean floor.

Even through their closed protective membranes, Nicolai could see clearly the way the starlight refracted on the surface of the sea, projecting alien shapes against the underwater landscape they found themself in. In the thin matrix of bluish light was a deep green substance that flowed in the current. It resembled the university lawn that one Autumn when the rain seemed neverending and the humans all fell ill. Much like a wet lawn it too was soft to the touch, brushing against Nicolai's underbelly as they flushed out multitudinous fishes that darted for new cover. It appeared to sprout out of the sand itself.

This was not the place where the shell belonged, but they felt close. On the horizon they spotted a lumpy silhouette, and headed that way.

At a closer distance, Nicolai beheld a fortress of stone. Every divet and alcove was filled with sand and pebbles and shells and from them sprouted tufts of oddly-shaped sea plants. Tiny fishes in a vast array of browns and greys sheltered in every nook and cranny and spilled out like a cloud whenever a bigger, pointier fish got too close.

Above the rocky mounds stood proudly weathered towers, covered in chalky white shells just like the one Nicolai held. Banners and flags of snagged seaweed provided food for whatever animals resided in the shells' opulent interiors. The beings moved about so slowly one could easily miss it, and hugged close to the stone, so every glimpse caught of what lay beneath showed only blackness. A figure formed of five long, connected limbs also crawled across one tower, reaching a single arm out to smother the holes of a shell.

There was no way for Nicolai to naturally attach the shell they held to where its lived-in kin stood, so instead they opted to place it down in a hole nearby, where it could have naturally settled. The rock here was rough and porous, and on close inspection almost looked to be more shell than stone.

When they tried to put it in, something invisible—no, transparent, blocked the way. With a lot of wiggling and a bit of telekinesis they were able to wrench the thing free and deposit the shell.

This transparent thing, however, did not belong here at all.

------

I just realised I forgot to put the white mask on Nicolai's face and if not for the fact that I threw this picture together with the sole purpose of not having to upload the writing as a journal it would haunt me forever.

Checked the event word palette because one time I accidentally covered like twice as many words as needed for a bonus without even trying and it looks like I might've actually managed to not use a single word from the list? This is funny to me.

The shell Nicolai was carrying in this piece is a pāua shell. Pāua are a type of sea snail. The actual animal in the shell is black and amorphous. They're edible (I haven't personally eaten them), but they're primarily known for their iridescent shells. These shells have been used to adorn clothing and jewelery, and in sculpture (notably a common feature in the eyes of Māori carvings), and also used whole as ash trays. A primary predator of pāua is the starfish, which covers the breathing holes in the shell with its arm to force the pāua to detatch itself from the stone and get eaten. Pāua themselves eat seaweed that floats around in the water.

------

This morning I woke up and realised I've been logging batch uploads in a way that is harder both to input and read and there's a far easier approach that I will be applying from here on out.

Nicolai Gets:
Image: 4 (shaded) 2 (full body) 4 (simple bg) 2 (event) || TOTAL GP: 12
Writing: 8 (writing, wc: 842) 10 (event) 6 (storytelling) || TOTAL GP: 24

I Get:
Image: 10 (shaded) 5 (full body) 10 (simple bg) 5 (personal) 5 (event) || TOTAL AP: 35

Writing: 16 (writing, wc: 842) 5 (personal) 20 (event) 8 (storytelling) || TOTAL AP: 49