Swap the goodies.
It was always dicey, dealing with the mermaids of the delta.
They were quick, with fast hands and faster smiles. Plenty of good men died by just getting too close, and they encouraged it.
Tiger scales were a warning, to anyone who knew to look for them. Even the crocodiles gave them wide berth.
Once in a while they fought.
Javan saw that once. Saw the brown water and the papyrus rattle as two predators fought, one with scales like armor and the other with knife and tooth and claw.
There was so much blood, he would never have known who won, except for the flash of gold scales and tiger stripes.
She was hurt. So hurt that she might have died, and yet he dared to bandage her, cautious because she could kill him any moment, but unable to leave her there, dying in the shallow water.
There was a giant, bloody tooth in her hand. He didn’t try to touch it.
“Why?”
He jumped and pulled his gun before he even quite knew what he was doing. The mermaid bared long, pointed teeth at him and hissed, tensing like she was about to bolt, or slash at him with her lethal claws.
For a long minute, they waited. She was fast. Probably fast enough to kill him, but not before he shot her at least once.
“Peace,” she said at last, and pointedly retracted her claws. Javan watched her. It could be a trap, and he hoped it wasn’t. Sure, the mermaids tended to be maneaters, and this one probably did exactly that, but he didn’t actually like killing anything. “I will do you no harm on this day, Arab.”
“I’m not an Arab,” Javan winced, but he did put his gun away. “I’m Armenian. Are you going to claw me if I patch you up?”
“Patch up?” she cocked her head and considered him. Her dark skin glittered with water droplets and her eyes were gold. “What is ‘patch up’?”
Right. No clothes. The concept of patching was probably unfamiliar.
“Bandage,” Javan nodded towards her still bleeding arm. “This is a bad place to be bleeding.”
She mulled that over, and seemed very aware of her long, golden tail that was half-submerged in the water. A trail of thick blood followed the current downstream.
“Very well,” she decided after a while. “Until we part ways, and unless it is in defense, I will not harm you.”
That was… pretty complete all things considered. Javan decided he would take it. “Gotcha. Okay, hold still.”
She did, and he dared to get closer so he could wash and bandage her bleeding hide. As soon as everything was clean, he held up a bottle of liquid bandage. “This will sting, but it will help.”
Again, she considered, and nodded her approval. He had to work quickly, but it didn’t take long to get her as whole as he could manage.
“Why help me?” she asked after a while, and waited until he finished with a bite down her arm to haul herself out onto the sparse grass nearby. “We kill your kind.”
“Yeah, I know,” Javan admitted, and prudently got out of range. He didn’t think she was going to change her mind about him, but it was never good to be close to the water, mermaid or no mermaid. “Your lot make mine real nervous. We keep losing guys down by the river.”
Not like they could do anything about it. They weren’t even supposed to be in this part of Africa, but there was something to be said for hiring mercenaries, and one of the local diamond barons needed some extra muscle.
“So why risk it?’ she persisted, and kicked her tail to spray water over herself. “Between me, and the crocodiles, I would think you would leave me.”
“I’ve seen a lot of death in the last couple weeks,” Javen said, and found a seat on a fallen log nearby. It was surprisingly bug-free, and he settled himself, interested in talking as long as he could. “I might be good at killing, but I try not to if I can help it.”
She hummed thoughtfully and rolled her crocodile tooth between her long fingers. Now that he looked, he realized she had a whole necklace of them.
“You helped me without asking anything in return,” she said quietly, and raised her bandaged arm. “Except that I not harm you while you did it, which is no proper repayment. Take this.”
She tossed him the tooth and Javan caught it reflexively. It filled his palm. The crocodile itself must have been absolutely huge.
“Wear it as a necklace,” she ordered him, and flashed him a smile that was pretty, and full of fangs. “And remember the name, Zamara.”
Before he could reply, she flipped and vanished into the murky water.
He looked down at the tooth in his hands and then at the dark water.
“Thanks,” he said to the empty air, and dug for some string.
He didn’t know what the tooth meant, but who was he to refuse a gift from a mermaid?
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“Please, let him be soft. I know you made him with gunmetal bones and wolf’s teeth. I know you made him to be a warrior a soldier a hero. But even gunmetal can warp and even wolf’s teeth can dull and I do not want to see him break the way old and worn and overused things do. I do not want to see him go up in flames the way all heroes end up martyrs. I know that you will tell me that the world needs him. The world needs his heart and his faith and his courage and his strength and his bones and his teeth and his blood and his voice and his– The world needs anything he will give them. Damn the world, and damn you too. Damn anyone that ever asked anything of him, damn anyone that ever took anything from him, damn anyone that ever prayed to his name. You know that he will give them everything until there is nothing left of him but the imprint of dust where his feet once trod. You know that he will bear the world like Atlas until his shoulders collapse and his knees buckle and he is crushed by all he used to carry. Dear God, you have already made an Atlas. You have already made an Achilles and an Icarus and a Hercules. You have already made so many heroes, and you can make another again. You can have your pick of heroes. So please, I beg you– he is all that I have, and you have so many heroes and the world has so many more. Let him be soft, and let him be mine.”
— Please, let him be happy ( j.p. )
“Please, let him be soft. I know you made him with gunmetal bones and wolf’s teeth. I know you made him to be a warrior a soldier a hero. But even gunmetal can warp and even wolf’s teeth can dull and I do not want to see him break the way old and worn and overused things do. I do not want to see him go up in flames the way all heroes end up martyrs. I know that you will tell me that the world needs him. The world needs his heart and his faith and his courage and his strength and his bones and his teeth and his blood and his voice and his– The world needs anything he will give them. Damn the world, and damn you too. Damn anyone that ever asked anything of him, damn anyone that ever took anything from him, damn anyone that ever prayed to his name. You know that he will give them everything until there is nothing left of him but the imprint of dust where his feet once trod. You know that he will bear the world like Atlas until his shoulders collapse and his knees buckle and he is crushed by all he used to carry. Dear God, you have already made an Atlas. You have already made an Achilles and an Icarus and a Hercules. You have already made so many heroes, and you can make another again. You can have your pick of heroes. So please, I beg you– he is all that I have, and you have so many heroes and the world has so many more. Let him be soft, and let him be mine.”
— Please, let him be happy ( j.p. )
“This is not your grave, but you are welcome in it” “There is much talk, and I have listened, through rock and metal and time. Now I shall talk, and you shall listen.” “Arrogant creatures! Your deaths will be instantaneous, while we shall suffer the progress of infinitude!” “We exist together now, two corpses in one grave…” “Do not be afraid. I am peace; I am salvation… I am a timeless chorus. Join your voice with mine, and sing victory everlasting.” “Lies for the weak! Beacons for the deluded!… You will be food; nothing more…” -Through the Prophet of Truth. “Now the gate has been unlatched, headstones pushed aside; corpses shift and offer room, a fate you must abide!” “Child of my enemy, why have you come? I offer no forgiveness, a father’s sins, passed to his son.” “I have beaten fleets of thousands! Consumed a galaxy of flesh and mind and bone!” “Do I take life or give it? Who is victim, and who is foe?” “Resignation is my virtue; like water I ebb, and flow. Defeat is simply the addition of time to a sentence I never deserved… but you imposed.” Why haven’t I heard more people talk about how flawless The Gravemind’s words are?
character who doesn’t know they’re in a timeloop: you’re back early
character who knows they’re in a timeloop, at the same time as the other character: you’re back early. yeah. i know. today’s haunted
character who doesn’t know they’re in a timeloop: what?
character who knows they’re in a timeloop: *loads gun* today’s haunted
Hi
We willing put our kids in spot where they can get hurt and consider it a lesson to the kids when they get hurt. We have spinning platforms. Ramps. Swings all of these are very dangerous and can harm kids. I think that Aline’s would be super protective of their kids imagine them seeing all the pain kids go through and how often they get hurt.
An old and homely grandmother accidentally summons a demon. She mistakes him for her gothic-phase teenage grandson and takes care of him. The demon decides to stay at his new home.
Your church-going, God-worshipping sister adopted a small child and you’re excited to see them. But when you do, the child is a menace. They’re throwing things everywhere, setting furniture on fire with seemingly nothing, chanting in Latin to summon demons, but the weirdest thing is that your sister doesn’t seem to mind.
You didn’t reblog a text post chain three years ago. Strange things start happening.