Well Aimed Chaos (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2013-08-09 01:28 am
whitemage) wrote in rainbowfic2013-08-09 01:28 am
Entry tags:
What the Siren Swoons For
Name: Ardy
Piece/Story: What the Siren Swoons For
Colors: Fire Opal 4 (ardent)
Styles/Supplies: Graffiti (Midsummer Night’s Dream prompt)
Word Count: 540
Ratings/Warnings: PG - Shipwrecks, double entendre that could refer to mermaids eating people; None
Notes: I have no idea what’s going on here, but it’s better than a mulligan.
“Here, My Lady: I’ve found another one.”
“Oh, thank you, Levi--oh, look at this: it’s a young man writing home to his sweetheart.” The mermaid curled herself up higher on the rock, settling in to read the passionate words, letting them flicker before her like a hearth fire.
The owl above her clicked his tongue. “Of all the rubbish to survive that shipwreck.” He was invested in post from a patriarch informing his grandson he was cut from the family will for riotous living. “All these little foibles and dramas. So petty, humans.”
“Quiet, Oxhorn.” The mermaid smiled happily, listening to the sea monster resting across her lap sound out words. “You wouldn’t judge so harshly if you understood what they feel.”
“If I was a real bird, I should say I understand better than they do. After all, it’s humans have such an inferior amygdalan connection to their true fee--”
“... And were the oceans ink and the parchments sky, I still could not find space enough to express all that you have meant to me. I sorrow at the thought of never basking in your wit, nor the twinkle of your eyes, nor ever brushing that soft cheek with the humblest of kisses.” Her face glowed, as did the copper orb spinning slowly behind her.
Both creatures eyed it, missing the ink dripping off the page and vanishing into vapors like smoke. The orb flickered.
‘Do you ever miss it?” Asked Levi.
“Miss what, my scaly friend?”
“Human life, he means, “ Oxhorn sighed. “Walking among them, touching them--you’re rather enamored with the species. Why don’t you go ‘collecting’ them like your sisters do? You certainly have the little siren’s song down.” He gestured with a wing at the floatsam and jetsam from the recent tragedy: a ship off-course as the crew chased the source of a mysterious, beautiful sound.
“I’m not interested in their flesh. Just their words. It’s the most important part of them, you know.” Her face was wistful, scooping up another letter, this one to a woman, expressing happiness with a new home far across the sea, hoping her family would forgive her for leaving on a lark like this. Her zest and enchantment were palpable with every word.
“Most important part, and yet they disappear so quickly!” Oxhorn exclaimed, shaking the suddenly empty paper.
The mermaid laughed and pointed to the orb. “Oh, no. Words last a long time--much longer than the human who created them could live.”
“So you keep them, but why, Lady?” Levi fell back to chewing on the paper she handed to him.
“To love, to enjoy, to experience--and hopefully? To share.”
“Oh?” Both her companions spoke up in surprise. “Who could you possibly share them with out here--besides us, of course?” Oxhorn sounded huffy.
She leaned forward as the owl flew down, whispering conspiratorially. “Someone who knows the truest powers of words. Someone who can see these patterns as I do, not just as trifling records, but as the mirror of humanity itself, locked in a mosaic of stories.”
“And just who would these people be? What will we call them?”
“Well...” The mermaid sucked in her lips, her eyes wide. “They are mystical, mysterious creatures called... librarians.”
Piece/Story: What the Siren Swoons For
Colors: Fire Opal 4 (ardent)
Styles/Supplies: Graffiti (Midsummer Night’s Dream prompt)
Word Count: 540
Ratings/Warnings: PG - Shipwrecks, double entendre that could refer to mermaids eating people; None
Notes: I have no idea what’s going on here, but it’s better than a mulligan.
“Here, My Lady: I’ve found another one.”
“Oh, thank you, Levi--oh, look at this: it’s a young man writing home to his sweetheart.” The mermaid curled herself up higher on the rock, settling in to read the passionate words, letting them flicker before her like a hearth fire.
The owl above her clicked his tongue. “Of all the rubbish to survive that shipwreck.” He was invested in post from a patriarch informing his grandson he was cut from the family will for riotous living. “All these little foibles and dramas. So petty, humans.”
“Quiet, Oxhorn.” The mermaid smiled happily, listening to the sea monster resting across her lap sound out words. “You wouldn’t judge so harshly if you understood what they feel.”
“If I was a real bird, I should say I understand better than they do. After all, it’s humans have such an inferior amygdalan connection to their true fee--”
“... And were the oceans ink and the parchments sky, I still could not find space enough to express all that you have meant to me. I sorrow at the thought of never basking in your wit, nor the twinkle of your eyes, nor ever brushing that soft cheek with the humblest of kisses.” Her face glowed, as did the copper orb spinning slowly behind her.
Both creatures eyed it, missing the ink dripping off the page and vanishing into vapors like smoke. The orb flickered.
‘Do you ever miss it?” Asked Levi.
“Miss what, my scaly friend?”
“Human life, he means, “ Oxhorn sighed. “Walking among them, touching them--you’re rather enamored with the species. Why don’t you go ‘collecting’ them like your sisters do? You certainly have the little siren’s song down.” He gestured with a wing at the floatsam and jetsam from the recent tragedy: a ship off-course as the crew chased the source of a mysterious, beautiful sound.
“I’m not interested in their flesh. Just their words. It’s the most important part of them, you know.” Her face was wistful, scooping up another letter, this one to a woman, expressing happiness with a new home far across the sea, hoping her family would forgive her for leaving on a lark like this. Her zest and enchantment were palpable with every word.
“Most important part, and yet they disappear so quickly!” Oxhorn exclaimed, shaking the suddenly empty paper.
The mermaid laughed and pointed to the orb. “Oh, no. Words last a long time--much longer than the human who created them could live.”
“So you keep them, but why, Lady?” Levi fell back to chewing on the paper she handed to him.
“To love, to enjoy, to experience--and hopefully? To share.”
“Oh?” Both her companions spoke up in surprise. “Who could you possibly share them with out here--besides us, of course?” Oxhorn sounded huffy.
She leaned forward as the owl flew down, whispering conspiratorially. “Someone who knows the truest powers of words. Someone who can see these patterns as I do, not just as trifling records, but as the mirror of humanity itself, locked in a mosaic of stories.”
“And just who would these people be? What will we call them?”
“Well...” The mermaid sucked in her lips, her eyes wide. “They are mystical, mysterious creatures called... librarians.”
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FUCK YEAH LIBRARIANS.
(although technically she may mean archivists, technically librarians don't deal with letters and the like unless they're in bound collections. BUT NO ONE CARES BECAUSE FUCK YEAH LIBRARIANS)
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(You are right and I love you so hard right now. Please don't ever change. XD)
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(I am a librarian so I know these things. I shall endeavor not to change. XD)
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Well, okay, I had one take a special concerned interest in me in high school and specifically reassigned me from "worthless" (her words) study hall to be her assistant. She's still there, and though I forget about her, when we do get back in touch, I go to her like some people visit a psychic because I swear she has the entire universe on file.
I have so many other stories, too. Like every time I get into major trouble in life, suddenly! there is a Librarian! like some kind of superhero.
/wandering comment wanders
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Hilariously, I had written 0 mermaids before and now I just realized I had 2 pieces with them just from Midsummer Night's Dream.
What do you like about this one? /being nosy