Zari Tarazi { reset } (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tarazi) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fourcolorlove2022-08-17 10:38 pm
tarazi) wrote in fourcolorlove2022-08-17 10:38 pm
ship smashing shenanigans
RP GENERATOR | OTHERWORDLY | PICTURE PROMPTS | TEXTING, ETC.
RP GENERATOR | OTHERWORDLY | PICTURE PROMPTS | TEXTING, ETC.
diego frustrated by losing a board game or card game to zari.
Lydia doesn't like humans. They're crass and reckless. They catch her in their nets and assume she doesn't understand when they make comments about her face, her body. It's why she never feels guilty dashing their boats upon the rocks, dragging their bodies down to the cold depths.
As though they wouldn't do the same or worst to her, given the opportunity.
There's also reasons why humans don't like women on their ships. It's all whispers about them being bad luck, surviving when the rest of the ships are torn asunder. Lydia doesn't know any of this, but she finds women far more agreeable than men, despite their heavy skirts that drag them under. She takes them to shore to islands, to other ships who have yet to offend her, and they survive when the rest of their ship does not. Lydia would be upset, if she knew what fate awaited them on the shore, but she has no control of the land, only the sea.
Today is another one of those days when she's dashed a ship against the shore, but sinking into the waves, she finds something unexpected. Dressed in men's clothes she may be, but Lydia knows a woman when she sees one. Dark hair fanning out in the dark water, soft but strong features. There's something about her that holds Lydia's intention, and instead of letting her continue to sink, she sweeps her arms under the woman's and pushes her up to the surface, swimming her speedily to shore.
As though they wouldn't do the same or worst to her, given the opportunity.
There's also reasons why humans don't like women on their ships. It's all whispers about them being bad luck, surviving when the rest of the ships are torn asunder. Lydia doesn't know any of this, but she finds women far more agreeable than men, despite their heavy skirts that drag them under. She takes them to shore to islands, to other ships who have yet to offend her, and they survive when the rest of their ship does not. Lydia would be upset, if she knew what fate awaited them on the shore, but she has no control of the land, only the sea.
Today is another one of those days when she's dashed a ship against the shore, but sinking into the waves, she finds something unexpected. Dressed in men's clothes she may be, but Lydia knows a woman when she sees one. Dark hair fanning out in the dark water, soft but strong features. There's something about her that holds Lydia's intention, and instead of letting her continue to sink, she sweeps her arms under the woman's and pushes her up to the surface, swimming her speedily to shore.
Allison brings her brother to Zari's Game Night themed influencer party. She says it's because he totally surprised her in LA and she couldn't leave him to his own devices. But, Diego, as she calls him, isn't terrible to look at, and she even tries a little bit of flirting to make S'more Money jealous when he happens to come around.
She's not bitter, or jealous. But she sure wants S'more to be.
Diego is probably very confused. Allison tells him that it's standard operating procedure when it comes to Zari, and things will calm down once the people filter out and they're heading into the more intimate part of the evening. Soon the performative people filter out, and he and Allison get settled around a table with some of the more interesting characters that had filtered through the party.
"Hey, fellow brother of the famous person," a tall man with long dark hair grins as he holds out a hand. "I'm Behrad, Zari's brother. You must be Diego."
She's not bitter, or jealous. But she sure wants S'more to be.
Diego is probably very confused. Allison tells him that it's standard operating procedure when it comes to Zari, and things will calm down once the people filter out and they're heading into the more intimate part of the evening. Soon the performative people filter out, and he and Allison get settled around a table with some of the more interesting characters that had filtered through the party.
"Hey, fellow brother of the famous person," a tall man with long dark hair grins as he holds out a hand. "I'm Behrad, Zari's brother. You must be Diego."
"Zari! The prince is coming!"
"Oh, great, the prince is coming."
If Zari sounds particularly unimpressed it's because she is. As much as the town has been in a frenzy since the announcement was made that the crown prince is going to be passing through town and Zari is already over it. She continues folding the stack of towels in front of her, her back to the door of the inn, as she glances back at Nasreen as she fusses over the inn records.
"Maman, would you relax? He's going to be here for two days, and then life would go back to what it was."
"Zari," Nasreen admonishes. "He's going to be bringing so much money into town."
"For two days! It's not going to help us long term. Besides, if the prince wanted to actually do something for us, he could persuade the king to pass decrees to keep the lords in charge of our lands from taxing us out of house and home and keeping all the wealth for themselves."
"Zari."
She vaguely registers the door opening behind her, and keeps going.
"But you know he doesn't have any real power. He's just a reasonably handsome stuffed shirt who gets passed around like a figure head trying to passify the masses because oooh he's still single, so who knows, maybe my daughter might be queen." She rolls her eyes and Nasreen's face has gone a bit ghostly.
"Zari."
There's something in her tone that makes her stop, and pause. Shadows seem to be stretching across the front desk of the inn. She swallows, and then tips her head up.
"The royal entourage is standing right behind me, isn't it."
"Oh, great, the prince is coming."
If Zari sounds particularly unimpressed it's because she is. As much as the town has been in a frenzy since the announcement was made that the crown prince is going to be passing through town and Zari is already over it. She continues folding the stack of towels in front of her, her back to the door of the inn, as she glances back at Nasreen as she fusses over the inn records.
"Maman, would you relax? He's going to be here for two days, and then life would go back to what it was."
"Zari," Nasreen admonishes. "He's going to be bringing so much money into town."
"For two days! It's not going to help us long term. Besides, if the prince wanted to actually do something for us, he could persuade the king to pass decrees to keep the lords in charge of our lands from taxing us out of house and home and keeping all the wealth for themselves."
"Zari."
She vaguely registers the door opening behind her, and keeps going.
"But you know he doesn't have any real power. He's just a reasonably handsome stuffed shirt who gets passed around like a figure head trying to passify the masses because oooh he's still single, so who knows, maybe my daughter might be queen." She rolls her eyes and Nasreen's face has gone a bit ghostly.
"Zari."
There's something in her tone that makes her stop, and pause. Shadows seem to be stretching across the front desk of the inn. She swallows, and then tips her head up.
"The royal entourage is standing right behind me, isn't it."
Sometimes Aretuza is just as suffocating as Dahlia's little hut in the woods. It's not the competition that borrows her. Between her own mother giving her up and her aunt's harsh teachings, Freya got more than enough cut-throat determination to make it in the world of mage politics. But that doesn't mean she likes it. She's a student, still, but a lot of the time, the place's rules and restrictions make her want to scream.
And since screaming in the castle could land her in trouble, sometimes at night, she slips off the grounds, heading into the woods nearby where she can scream in peace and not disrupt the magic of the towers.
And since all eyes are on you, always, she also notices when she's being followed. Her head tips to the side, just as she steps outside the borders, and she can't help but smile softly in return.
"If you're looking for something to use against me, I think you might be disappointed."
And since screaming in the castle could land her in trouble, sometimes at night, she slips off the grounds, heading into the woods nearby where she can scream in peace and not disrupt the magic of the towers.
And since all eyes are on you, always, she also notices when she's being followed. Her head tips to the side, just as she steps outside the borders, and she can't help but smile softly in return.
"If you're looking for something to use against me, I think you might be disappointed."
- OR -
- OR -
Allison chokes on water and air as she begins to come back to awareness. By all accounts, she should be be dead now. Allison had led her own ship, even if she had to dress as a man to pull it off. Her ship had it's own code -- not that it matters much now.
Stiles had told her stories about mermaids but she thought they were just that -- stories, he was always spinning tall tales. But now she's face to face with a beautiful red-haired one.
"You saved me."
She doesn't ask why, but it's implied.
"You're not a man."
Which is probably not the kindest thing to say, as Allison likely had good men on that ship as well as the kind that Lydia doesn't like, but she doesn't care about those people. Why should she?
"My anger isn't with women. So I didn't want you to die on my account."
Simple as that, really. But mermaids don't share the same morals that humans do, so she would understand if Allison would be horrified like the others.
Which is probably not the kindest thing to say, as Allison likely had good men on that ship as well as the kind that Lydia doesn't like, but she doesn't care about those people. Why should she?
"My anger isn't with women. So I didn't want you to die on my account."
Simple as that, really. But mermaids don't share the same morals that humans do, so she would understand if Allison would be horrified like the others.
Sam misses Lydia's original phone call, so by the time he and Dean show up in Beacon Hills, it's too late for him to stop it. The damage is already done and they simply have to deal with the fallout. A nogitsune and a brainwashed Allison running around hunting her friends is certainly a problem, and sending a werewolf after it doesn't seem like a wise choice.
Especially not Peter Hale.
So Dean agrees to tag along with Peter, Melissa and Chris - distract to keep them from getting to Allison too quickly while Sam hopefully does what the werewolves can't: get her to stand still and listen, and figure out how close the nogitsune has gotten. All the while, he can't help but hear the thundering feeling in his chest that Allison is alive, and he doesn't know what to do with that information.
They haven't seen each other since they were kids, and she doesn't even know if she'll recognize him, but it's worth a shot. He has to try.
He rounds the corner of where Allison was last seen, gun up just in case, and when he hears someone shuffling within, he takes swallows a deep breath before calling out to her.
"Allison?"
Especially not Peter Hale.
So Dean agrees to tag along with Peter, Melissa and Chris - distract to keep them from getting to Allison too quickly while Sam hopefully does what the werewolves can't: get her to stand still and listen, and figure out how close the nogitsune has gotten. All the while, he can't help but hear the thundering feeling in his chest that Allison is alive, and he doesn't know what to do with that information.
They haven't seen each other since they were kids, and she doesn't even know if she'll recognize him, but it's worth a shot. He has to try.
He rounds the corner of where Allison was last seen, gun up just in case, and when he hears someone shuffling within, he takes swallows a deep breath before calling out to her.
"Allison?"
There were good men on her ship. Men like Stiles, Scott and Isaac. She had tried to rid her ship of the other sort of men.
Easier said then done.
"So I was the only one you saved?"
It's not an accusation so much as a somber realization. Her men are likely all dead.
Allison doesn't know what to believe or what to do, other than she was dead before and she's alive now and it's apparently this pack of wolves fault. And she's a huntress. She hunts wolves.
She expected that Scott person again not -- she knows this man. Or she thinks maybe she did once. And maybe because he isn't a wolf, it's easier for her memory to recall him, or at least enough to know his name.
"Sam?"
It's a question as much as anything. She still stands at guard, with her ring daggers pulled close to her. But there's recognition there, small as it may be.
"Yeah."
That's a good sign. At least she knows his name. Taking a risk, he tucks away his gun, and holds up his hands as he comes fully into view, showing that he's not looking for a fight.
"I just want to talk. I know how hard it can be, coming back from the dead. I know that when it happened to me I was really confused and didn't know what to make of any of it. If you have any questions, maybe I can answer them."
That's a good sign. At least she knows his name. Taking a risk, he tucks away his gun, and holds up his hands as he comes fully into view, showing that he's not looking for a fight.
"I just want to talk. I know how hard it can be, coming back from the dead. I know that when it happened to me I was really confused and didn't know what to make of any of it. If you have any questions, maybe I can answer them."
Mermaids aren't good with facial expressions, as they're not often important. In the depths the water is often so dark that you can learn more about someone's state from the tone of their song rather than looking at their face. But her experience with humans has resulted in Lydia learning to recognize some, the overt ones that make her feel uncomfortable. Not the nuances that may come with grief and loss.
But she can hear the somber tones in the voice of the woman, and recognizes that this situation is different. She's not grateful for being rescued - she's sad. As though she's lost something of value with the ship, and not been liberated from people who didn't appreciate her.
Lydia pushes back, glancing over her shoulder at the waters. The rocks she dashed the ship on weren't isolated. Maybe some of them managed to survive, if they could swim the distance. The odds aren't high, but maybe?
"Yes." She's not going to lie. "But I actively didn't drown them. So it's possible some of them survived."
But she can hear the somber tones in the voice of the woman, and recognizes that this situation is different. She's not grateful for being rescued - she's sad. As though she's lost something of value with the ship, and not been liberated from people who didn't appreciate her.
Lydia pushes back, glancing over her shoulder at the waters. The rocks she dashed the ship on weren't isolated. Maybe some of them managed to survive, if they could swim the distance. The odds aren't high, but maybe?
"Yes." She's not going to lie. "But I actively didn't drown them. So it's possible some of them survived."
Allison blinks slowly. She doesn't put her knives down just yet, but she does seem to pause -- to loosen just a little from the tightly wound ball she currently is.
"You've been dead too?"
This is something other people have experienced as well?
"Thank you for not drowning them," She knows that some mermaids do that -- or so she's heard anyways, she's never actually met one before -- so it seems like a thing to say. She hopes that some of them managed to survive.
"I know most ships are filled with men who deserve it, but I was trying to do something different."
Run things by her own code, a better one.
"I just needed to get outside, I didn't realize anyone else out here," Yennefer offers a crooked smile but she doesn't blame Freya for being suspicious. Yennefer had pushed her only friend back in with the other eels. She knows there is little she wouldn't do for power.
She never wants to feel powerless like she does now again.
Honestly, Diego is glad to talk to someone normal. Not that he hasn't appreciated a pretty girl like Zari flirting with him but he has a feeling it's not all genuine. Which is fine, he guesses, but he doesn't like much being used.
Doesn't feel great.
So he shakes Behrad's hand gladly. "Yep, I'm Diego. Nice to talk to someone normal around here, honestly."
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