Post by Deilakrion on May 28, 2008 1:07:19 GMT -5
"Circling your, circling your, circling your head,
Contemplating everything you ever said
Now I see the truth, I got doubt
A different motive in your eyes and now I’m out
See you later
I see your fantasy, you want to make it a reality paved in gold
See inside, inside of our heads (yeah)
Well now that’s over
I see your motives inside, decisions to hide. . ."
-- "Headstrong" Trapt
The sea was a place of many faces, and that day it showed a particularly beautiful royal blue that lightened to a fine turquoise towards the shore. It splashed over the rocks, forming little pools that housed myriads of tiny creatures, all scuttling here and there in the busy waltz of life. Clumps of seaweed littered the wave-break, along with various pieces of driftwood and other flotsam. The wind kicked a little bit, causing the late afternoon air to cool. It was perfect for Deilakrion, who moved along the shore in spurts of energy. A dried, bedraggled and twisted rope made of old and rather stinky seaweed adorned her waist, and the entirety of her was speckled with sand. She didn't seem to mind. She hopped from the pinacles of each rock to another, collecting more seaweed. She seemed enamored of the stuff, and perchance was making herself another belt for which to stuff the dirk that was precariously hanging from the old seaweed belt. The salty air did her good, as she panted into the wind; new and old wounds alike sealing nicely to form more scars amidst the many that already crested her body. To the horizon, darker clouds sullied the clear blue sky.
Kasyr rarely seemed to have time to himself these days, so oft was he caught in one incident here, or some other disaster there. It was for those particular reasons that when the opportunity had presented himself, he'd immediately journeyed as far from his usual haunts as possible. Whilst it likely would prove next to impossible to fully escape his responsibilitys to one degree or another, he reasoned that at the very least he would have a head start. That this particular area had an odd sort of nostalgia to it simply aided in coaxing which path he took, favoring these beachs which had served as a vantage point to the Tranquilitys former docking grounds. And onward he'd move, trenchcoated tiefling only pausing when his footsteps had taken him to the very edge of the water, only barely aware that there was a particular figure 'dancing' amidst the sands debris.
Raidra was simply slithering from place to place, her mind was set on other things and truth be told she had no idea where she was heading. Minding her own business as her gaze was transfixed upon the sandy ground, she soon realized where she had traveled to. Her eyes still set on the ground as she mumbled something to herself, "Raidra has no clue where she be..." When she lifted up her head to take a look around she spotted a beings in her eyesight and was quickly taken aback by the girl hopping from rock to rock. Curiosity flushed through her and accidentally Raidra began to stare at the woman, eyebrows furrowed with seriousness. Another mumbled escaped (this seemed to be one of her many habits), "Oh mai, Raidra never seen such a silly thing before." A twitch etched along her scaley tail making her automatically flick her tail upward to give it a good scratch. Instinctively she reached back into her satchel to grab a fresh bottle of water, but then stopped only to smack her forehead lightly. "Waiter right in front of Raidra!" She exclaimed to herself. As quickly as she could, Raidra slithered to the edge of the water, yet again she stopped to see a 'strange' looking man at the edge as well. Afraid to disrupt him of any sort Raidra stopped in her tracks and became very still.
The seaweed left a fine trail amidst semi-dried rocks, to which Deilakrion sent a scowl as it snagged upon a certain rock. By this time the woman had collected a bundle of the stuff, and had it looped over forearm and shoulder, coiled about waist in a haphazard manner that spoke bizarre lengths of her childish form of mind. It was only a matter of time before peripheral movement caught hold of her mind, and she looked up to spot both naga and tiefling. One she knew in an off-handed sort of way, between den and pack. The other was a mystery: odd shape to couple with a strange face. The elf didn't particularly know what to do about either, and so she continued her hops, pausing to take note of both, or one, feet sending up sprays of water that melted back into the ocean. The water. It caught and held her gaze, and the mass of seaweed drooped towards the water, to splay in liquid fashion as she stood ankle deep in the surf. Yet it wasn't entirely the water that held her attention. She stiffened, knowing the shape of boats, and frowned as a particularly large one--three masts and a fine prow--drifted into the incoming tide. It was a ways out, a long swim away, but its path seemed aimless to the elf and certain to intersect the reefs that dotted the clear water of the inlet.
Kasyr had rather swiftly become observed in the movement of the waves, almost entranced by every glimpse of memory that seemed manifest in the crash of waves. Still, even daydreaming, the empath did have a particular amount of difficulty in tuning out the feelings of others, especially when they fixated upon him for any moment in time. All in all, the effect was rather noticeable, given that not a few moments after Raidra had stopped, the tiefling would simply perk up into a standstill, his ears making a caricature of that same motion. The difference rested in the fact that they'd tip back in her direction, as though awaiting any further exclamations or movement- but in finding none, the tiefling took the proverbial lead, tipping back to the point that his balance rested solely upon his heels, so that the naga could be offered a querying 'upside-down-edly' gaze and a sort of nonchalant wave; before Kasyr could snap back up to a standstill- those moments taken to drift from the spot he'd taken; given the womans seeming hesitance in approaching. Whether for good or ill, this left the hybrid to amble in Deilakrions general vicinity, given, there was this particular sensation of...attentiveness that popped to mind.
Raidra , still at unease, waves back as kindly as she could while putting up a fake smile, which was the only thing the naga could muster up. Slowly and cautiously as Raidra could, she made her way to the beaches' shore. "Ahhh, that makes Raidra's scales feel much bettar," said the naga in another soft whisper. A calm breeze entered the region making Raidra's hair falling briefly into her line of vision. Though Raidra was resting her tail in the water, the salt seemed to of unconditionally irritate her skin. A curt grumble of discomfort could be heard but luckily this time Raidra's thoughts stayed within her mind. Ignoring the irritation, her curiosity rose once more, eyes glued upon the 'man' and the woman. She stayed silent as she could be only to observe the two.
Beyond Deilakrion's head, the ship continued to draw near. Now visible above it was a cloud of birds--seabirds, 'twould seem--that dipped and dove. Some seemed to dive straight into the ocean, and their tiny forms were lost to the sea. Upon the water that lapped at the elf's feet, feathers seemed to float in. Some were capsized by the movement of the waves, but many floated to the shore, to be deposited at the shore break with seaweed and detritus. The elf, seaweed safely stored about her form, stooped to pick one up. Then another. And another. She stared out towards the strange phenomena, and shook her head: not her concern. What was her concern was the closer forms of the two fleshes. They had not made movements towards her yet, but she expected that to change. It usually did out in the quiet places, where meetings were rare and (apparently) special. The one flesh--and its odd form--stayed well back, but the closer one was the familiar one. That would make a difference. "Flesh." Even and measured her tone: not a least bit chary! Her eyes were yet stone grey, as barren as the rocks about them. They peered into the form of Kasyr, daring the other to make a move.
Kasyr did hold some slight degree of interest in that approaching ship, having finally taken note of it. That being said, the stark addressal of 'Flesh' and desolate gaze proved to be a bit more imminently important, given the hybrid couldn't rightly fathom much about the distant vessel anyways. ...What was more, he had this distinctive prickling on the back of his throat, a tangible eyes on the back of his head feeling which was undoubtedly the nagas doing. Reacting as best as he could to the circumstances, the hybrid simply drew his right hand up to his chin, left hand finding rest at the elbow of his right so he could properly feign a pensive posture; the prerequisitive 'Hrmph' made easily enough without a tongue. This particular action than led into a seemingly perturbed tipping of his head to one side, left hand drawn up just long enough so that it could be pointed at himself and then waggled in a sort of nixing motion. ...If that always failed, he could see how literate she was.
Raidra 's instincts told her not to move an inch, not even to breathe for a second, for it would seem in her point a view a very ominous feeling, though she could be wrong about this situation. Dark grey eyes swiveled from the 'man' to the woman, eyes widening, her emotion perplexed. As a habit, Raidra's tail flicked up through the water creating a small splash, only dampening her torso. Raidra didn't know what to do or what to say, but instincts kicked in, an uncontrolling hiss escaped the naga's lips.
The ship's sails were bellied as a wind continued to bring it closer and closer to shore. Its outline could be determined now, marking it as a merchant ship; though its home port could not be determined. Out over the reefs, drifting into the surf, the bodies of birds could be seen floating on the water. They were not floating upright. Deilakrion's attention, however, was captured by Kasyr. He made some odd movements, but did not respond to her call. The elf was not in the least offended by this; words meant little to the woman in terms of communication. She lifted the feather to him at his strange gesture, and then walked a little further into the water. It was delightfully cold, and she shivered as it met the skin of her calves and then her knees. The seaweed, however, was trying to float away in a manner Deilakrion found entirely uninviting. She bared her teeth at the stuff, bending to catch it with clammy fingers. In that stalk-legged position, she was ill prepared for the swell of water that moved to shore, and in short order was caught by surprise. She fell in with a splash (not unlike that which the naga's tail had made) and sputtered as some of the seaweed made its escape.
Kasyr let out a somewhat exasperated huff, the odd little 'offerance' of a feather indecipherable to the same extent as Caedans mannerisms could be; precipitating the conclusion that the tiefling was likely in for at least a bit more perplexion by the time the day was done. Curiosity, after all, had taken hold upon the hybrid and given his generally careless approach to killing time {and the lack of someone trying to kill him}; he saw no reason to leave yet. For one thing, he still didn't know much of the odd woman- so what little insight could be found of the Cabal Mate in her bizarre little cavortations was always appreciative. It also helped that there was bigger fish...if one ignored it's not so submerged, wooden vessel status. But, analogys generally allowed leniency anyways. Thus it was decided, with nary more than 'Hff"ing sound- the mute hybrid taking a moment to skirt back from the shore upon the crash of surf, if only to scurry forth in its wake, to peer none too discreetly at Deilakrions dutiful attempts at seaweed recovery.
Deilakrion was not amused. In the outward rush of water the seaweed escaped outsretched fingers, and the inward flood served to hinder attempts to climb back to her feet. So, she went deeper into the water, tugged by its insistant undertow and repulsed by each swell. It wasn't extremely cold, but chill enough to wake one up and turn the skin into bumps. She made her way out until her toe-tips could not touch the sand and rocks beneath. She turned to look back at the shore, which was a good way behind her. The tiefling wasn't so close anymore, but she lifted a beckoning hand. Her neck had feathers attached to it, the floating flotilla of them packing the water. She swam out, the floor beneath slowly descending as coral and rock reefs ascended nearer to the water. The ship would soon impale itself upon their turgid bulk. No matter to Deilakrion. She neared a bird carcass, and floated nearer to it, staring with morbid interest at its dessicated form.
Kasyr frowned, as it became increasingly clear that if he was to follow. It wasn't that the hybrid had any undue aversion to water, those feline traits only going as far as the ears, his sense of balance...and that odd habit of occasionally finding himself on a particularily high object. No, it was more or less a distaste for having to ditch his trenchcoat, given just how much of a trial it would be to swim with all the metal plates sewn into it. {Hell, even without, ruining a good leather coat -again- just didn't seem that appetising}. So, slave to his impulses as ever, a choice was made, the tiefling going just far enough up that beach that when the coat was shrugged off, it would be relatively safe from the water. And with that, he'd rush, to barrel into the waves with a rather awkward intake of breath at how damned cold it was- a shiver worthy experience that would be pushed past as he began the arduous task of trying to wade fast enough to catch up to the gathering of Cabal Mate and bird carcasses. ..How tasteful. ...One could only hope there was something else of use beyond floating avian cadavers...
It wasn't the carcass itself that bothered the elf--she'd created enough of those--it was. . .the way it appeared. She turned to look back to shore, as if looking for reassurance, and caught sight of Kasyr's sleek form approaching. Relief. It relaxed her features and made her seem almost happy. Not typically a sign of good things to come. Indeed, even as she paddled water a hand had gone below to pat the seaweed to assure herself the dirk was yet present. She returned her stare to the bird, eerily aware of the many others like it that littered the surface of the water like so much refuse. The bird before her had twisted. The tips of feathers had curled and -peeled- back, as though another force had subjected them to pressure. They almost looked like paper that had become wet, and curled as it dried. It also gave off an odd stench, unlike that which the creature was used to housing; unnatural stink. The tips of the feathers had turned an ugly brown, and the bodies that were once white were now stained with the color. As well, blood had seeped up through the feathers, though no visible wounds would lay claim to it. Worst were the eyes, which had turned an unnatural golden, glassy hue. If the elf knew what creepy was, she would have felt creeped. As it was, she was unnerved--hard to do for the elf--and could only look towards the ship. Birds were still circling it, and diving. Different types--where had they come from. The trail of death led to it, as if beckoning the elf onward. One last backward glance and she swam forward, slowly, through the carpet of feathers and death.
Kasyr continued to do his best to close the distance, becoming dully aware of the increasing volume of feather and aqua-borne carrion; to the point where even a mind that had been formerly at ease was beginning to sense something amiss with the situation. It didn't particularily aid that the elfs perturbation was contagious to the empath, making him increasingly wary of the vilified dead. Bit by Bit, one by one, he'd swim closer to the seeming epicenter of this particular disaster, taking occasional note towards what rested about him. ...It was enough to irritate the aura around him, that veil of darkness which normally clung imperceptibly within the mundane vestge of a shadow displaying itself as unsettled as the hybrid, an occasional tendril tentatively flicking from his vicinity to push aside a floating bird that strayed too near. ...Internally, the betting had begun with his worse half, Gospel having apparently awoken at what it deemed sure sign of a disaster; a cackling hiss that surrounded Kasyr it's fashion of inquiring as to the fate of the crew. ...Pleasent Conversationalist.
If anyone was home, they weren't looking outside. The ship, where not decorated with feathers, was bereft of any crew. Which would then be the reason why, with a sudden crunch, the thing ground to a halt among coral and rock formations. It loomed above her now, and she paddled in place a time, as if unwilling to go any nearer. Kasyr's form was sought with some measure of alarm; something had spooked the elf. Her breath accelerated in tandem, even as water was sucked into the ship upon the breach of hull. Lucky for both swimmers the ground below was buoyed by coral and rock, else the ship might suck them down after it. As it was, the thing would only sink a few feet, held upright by the reef that had killed it: an embrace sure to last a good long while. The birds were falling nearer to the elf. That alarmed her, as she watched one shrivel in a few scant seconds, beak propped open by swollen tongue. Magic, poison, or some other force, the elf wasn't going to wait. She swam back towards the tiefling, unsure of whether she really desired to enter that boat. As for the ship, well, it remained in place, if edging deeper into the water. It waited for someone--or something--to crack its rotted hull open and explore the fruit inside.
Kasyr winced upon the ships crash into coral, a particularily wary glance cast to that scuttled behemoth as though awaiting some other catastrophic development to occur, some dire twist of events to follow. And yet, the boat simply rested there, a sinister grave mark to the waters becoming increasingly thick with feathers~ the air rank with the stench of the winged masses. Really, it was enough to make one wonder how much more foul the interiors would be, but, perhaps some salvation could be found. Whatever the case, the hybrid was doing his best to avoid having any of the winged pestilence dropping dead onto his head; a scowl cast up towards the sky as the elfs agitation further acted upon him. Really, at least if it was some poison that had killed the crew they'd be long dead; if plague, perhaps it would be all but clear save for the withering bodies of those last few to have succumbed. It didn't matter, so long as it was not a deluge of feathers and bodies plopping down from the heavens, and thus did the tiefling stray from the elf, nearing the hull of ship. During these moments of silent treading, his right hand would come up, Serpentile tattoo's normally obscured by his coat made easily seen- the likes of which would roil as the tiefling tentatively tried to peer into the ships 'wound'.
Black and wet suffocated the elven woman as she jolted upwards from the hard rocks. She stared around herself, mouth gaping and confusion seeping through her pores. The seaweed was clutched tight in her hand, but Kasyr was nowhere to be seen. What? She looked up and outward, at the ocean that spread guileless before her. The ship sat upon the reef it had impaled itself upon, and. . .winked at her. She stared, and in a rush of diziness sank back down to the shoreline. Sleep. . .
Contemplating everything you ever said
Now I see the truth, I got doubt
A different motive in your eyes and now I’m out
See you later
I see your fantasy, you want to make it a reality paved in gold
See inside, inside of our heads (yeah)
Well now that’s over
I see your motives inside, decisions to hide. . ."
-- "Headstrong" Trapt
The sea was a place of many faces, and that day it showed a particularly beautiful royal blue that lightened to a fine turquoise towards the shore. It splashed over the rocks, forming little pools that housed myriads of tiny creatures, all scuttling here and there in the busy waltz of life. Clumps of seaweed littered the wave-break, along with various pieces of driftwood and other flotsam. The wind kicked a little bit, causing the late afternoon air to cool. It was perfect for Deilakrion, who moved along the shore in spurts of energy. A dried, bedraggled and twisted rope made of old and rather stinky seaweed adorned her waist, and the entirety of her was speckled with sand. She didn't seem to mind. She hopped from the pinacles of each rock to another, collecting more seaweed. She seemed enamored of the stuff, and perchance was making herself another belt for which to stuff the dirk that was precariously hanging from the old seaweed belt. The salty air did her good, as she panted into the wind; new and old wounds alike sealing nicely to form more scars amidst the many that already crested her body. To the horizon, darker clouds sullied the clear blue sky.
Kasyr rarely seemed to have time to himself these days, so oft was he caught in one incident here, or some other disaster there. It was for those particular reasons that when the opportunity had presented himself, he'd immediately journeyed as far from his usual haunts as possible. Whilst it likely would prove next to impossible to fully escape his responsibilitys to one degree or another, he reasoned that at the very least he would have a head start. That this particular area had an odd sort of nostalgia to it simply aided in coaxing which path he took, favoring these beachs which had served as a vantage point to the Tranquilitys former docking grounds. And onward he'd move, trenchcoated tiefling only pausing when his footsteps had taken him to the very edge of the water, only barely aware that there was a particular figure 'dancing' amidst the sands debris.
Raidra was simply slithering from place to place, her mind was set on other things and truth be told she had no idea where she was heading. Minding her own business as her gaze was transfixed upon the sandy ground, she soon realized where she had traveled to. Her eyes still set on the ground as she mumbled something to herself, "Raidra has no clue where she be..." When she lifted up her head to take a look around she spotted a beings in her eyesight and was quickly taken aback by the girl hopping from rock to rock. Curiosity flushed through her and accidentally Raidra began to stare at the woman, eyebrows furrowed with seriousness. Another mumbled escaped (this seemed to be one of her many habits), "Oh mai, Raidra never seen such a silly thing before." A twitch etched along her scaley tail making her automatically flick her tail upward to give it a good scratch. Instinctively she reached back into her satchel to grab a fresh bottle of water, but then stopped only to smack her forehead lightly. "Waiter right in front of Raidra!" She exclaimed to herself. As quickly as she could, Raidra slithered to the edge of the water, yet again she stopped to see a 'strange' looking man at the edge as well. Afraid to disrupt him of any sort Raidra stopped in her tracks and became very still.
The seaweed left a fine trail amidst semi-dried rocks, to which Deilakrion sent a scowl as it snagged upon a certain rock. By this time the woman had collected a bundle of the stuff, and had it looped over forearm and shoulder, coiled about waist in a haphazard manner that spoke bizarre lengths of her childish form of mind. It was only a matter of time before peripheral movement caught hold of her mind, and she looked up to spot both naga and tiefling. One she knew in an off-handed sort of way, between den and pack. The other was a mystery: odd shape to couple with a strange face. The elf didn't particularly know what to do about either, and so she continued her hops, pausing to take note of both, or one, feet sending up sprays of water that melted back into the ocean. The water. It caught and held her gaze, and the mass of seaweed drooped towards the water, to splay in liquid fashion as she stood ankle deep in the surf. Yet it wasn't entirely the water that held her attention. She stiffened, knowing the shape of boats, and frowned as a particularly large one--three masts and a fine prow--drifted into the incoming tide. It was a ways out, a long swim away, but its path seemed aimless to the elf and certain to intersect the reefs that dotted the clear water of the inlet.
Kasyr had rather swiftly become observed in the movement of the waves, almost entranced by every glimpse of memory that seemed manifest in the crash of waves. Still, even daydreaming, the empath did have a particular amount of difficulty in tuning out the feelings of others, especially when they fixated upon him for any moment in time. All in all, the effect was rather noticeable, given that not a few moments after Raidra had stopped, the tiefling would simply perk up into a standstill, his ears making a caricature of that same motion. The difference rested in the fact that they'd tip back in her direction, as though awaiting any further exclamations or movement- but in finding none, the tiefling took the proverbial lead, tipping back to the point that his balance rested solely upon his heels, so that the naga could be offered a querying 'upside-down-edly' gaze and a sort of nonchalant wave; before Kasyr could snap back up to a standstill- those moments taken to drift from the spot he'd taken; given the womans seeming hesitance in approaching. Whether for good or ill, this left the hybrid to amble in Deilakrions general vicinity, given, there was this particular sensation of...attentiveness that popped to mind.
Raidra , still at unease, waves back as kindly as she could while putting up a fake smile, which was the only thing the naga could muster up. Slowly and cautiously as Raidra could, she made her way to the beaches' shore. "Ahhh, that makes Raidra's scales feel much bettar," said the naga in another soft whisper. A calm breeze entered the region making Raidra's hair falling briefly into her line of vision. Though Raidra was resting her tail in the water, the salt seemed to of unconditionally irritate her skin. A curt grumble of discomfort could be heard but luckily this time Raidra's thoughts stayed within her mind. Ignoring the irritation, her curiosity rose once more, eyes glued upon the 'man' and the woman. She stayed silent as she could be only to observe the two.
Beyond Deilakrion's head, the ship continued to draw near. Now visible above it was a cloud of birds--seabirds, 'twould seem--that dipped and dove. Some seemed to dive straight into the ocean, and their tiny forms were lost to the sea. Upon the water that lapped at the elf's feet, feathers seemed to float in. Some were capsized by the movement of the waves, but many floated to the shore, to be deposited at the shore break with seaweed and detritus. The elf, seaweed safely stored about her form, stooped to pick one up. Then another. And another. She stared out towards the strange phenomena, and shook her head: not her concern. What was her concern was the closer forms of the two fleshes. They had not made movements towards her yet, but she expected that to change. It usually did out in the quiet places, where meetings were rare and (apparently) special. The one flesh--and its odd form--stayed well back, but the closer one was the familiar one. That would make a difference. "Flesh." Even and measured her tone: not a least bit chary! Her eyes were yet stone grey, as barren as the rocks about them. They peered into the form of Kasyr, daring the other to make a move.
Kasyr did hold some slight degree of interest in that approaching ship, having finally taken note of it. That being said, the stark addressal of 'Flesh' and desolate gaze proved to be a bit more imminently important, given the hybrid couldn't rightly fathom much about the distant vessel anyways. ...What was more, he had this distinctive prickling on the back of his throat, a tangible eyes on the back of his head feeling which was undoubtedly the nagas doing. Reacting as best as he could to the circumstances, the hybrid simply drew his right hand up to his chin, left hand finding rest at the elbow of his right so he could properly feign a pensive posture; the prerequisitive 'Hrmph' made easily enough without a tongue. This particular action than led into a seemingly perturbed tipping of his head to one side, left hand drawn up just long enough so that it could be pointed at himself and then waggled in a sort of nixing motion. ...If that always failed, he could see how literate she was.
Raidra 's instincts told her not to move an inch, not even to breathe for a second, for it would seem in her point a view a very ominous feeling, though she could be wrong about this situation. Dark grey eyes swiveled from the 'man' to the woman, eyes widening, her emotion perplexed. As a habit, Raidra's tail flicked up through the water creating a small splash, only dampening her torso. Raidra didn't know what to do or what to say, but instincts kicked in, an uncontrolling hiss escaped the naga's lips.
The ship's sails were bellied as a wind continued to bring it closer and closer to shore. Its outline could be determined now, marking it as a merchant ship; though its home port could not be determined. Out over the reefs, drifting into the surf, the bodies of birds could be seen floating on the water. They were not floating upright. Deilakrion's attention, however, was captured by Kasyr. He made some odd movements, but did not respond to her call. The elf was not in the least offended by this; words meant little to the woman in terms of communication. She lifted the feather to him at his strange gesture, and then walked a little further into the water. It was delightfully cold, and she shivered as it met the skin of her calves and then her knees. The seaweed, however, was trying to float away in a manner Deilakrion found entirely uninviting. She bared her teeth at the stuff, bending to catch it with clammy fingers. In that stalk-legged position, she was ill prepared for the swell of water that moved to shore, and in short order was caught by surprise. She fell in with a splash (not unlike that which the naga's tail had made) and sputtered as some of the seaweed made its escape.
Kasyr let out a somewhat exasperated huff, the odd little 'offerance' of a feather indecipherable to the same extent as Caedans mannerisms could be; precipitating the conclusion that the tiefling was likely in for at least a bit more perplexion by the time the day was done. Curiosity, after all, had taken hold upon the hybrid and given his generally careless approach to killing time {and the lack of someone trying to kill him}; he saw no reason to leave yet. For one thing, he still didn't know much of the odd woman- so what little insight could be found of the Cabal Mate in her bizarre little cavortations was always appreciative. It also helped that there was bigger fish...if one ignored it's not so submerged, wooden vessel status. But, analogys generally allowed leniency anyways. Thus it was decided, with nary more than 'Hff"ing sound- the mute hybrid taking a moment to skirt back from the shore upon the crash of surf, if only to scurry forth in its wake, to peer none too discreetly at Deilakrions dutiful attempts at seaweed recovery.
Deilakrion was not amused. In the outward rush of water the seaweed escaped outsretched fingers, and the inward flood served to hinder attempts to climb back to her feet. So, she went deeper into the water, tugged by its insistant undertow and repulsed by each swell. It wasn't extremely cold, but chill enough to wake one up and turn the skin into bumps. She made her way out until her toe-tips could not touch the sand and rocks beneath. She turned to look back at the shore, which was a good way behind her. The tiefling wasn't so close anymore, but she lifted a beckoning hand. Her neck had feathers attached to it, the floating flotilla of them packing the water. She swam out, the floor beneath slowly descending as coral and rock reefs ascended nearer to the water. The ship would soon impale itself upon their turgid bulk. No matter to Deilakrion. She neared a bird carcass, and floated nearer to it, staring with morbid interest at its dessicated form.
Kasyr frowned, as it became increasingly clear that if he was to follow. It wasn't that the hybrid had any undue aversion to water, those feline traits only going as far as the ears, his sense of balance...and that odd habit of occasionally finding himself on a particularily high object. No, it was more or less a distaste for having to ditch his trenchcoat, given just how much of a trial it would be to swim with all the metal plates sewn into it. {Hell, even without, ruining a good leather coat -again- just didn't seem that appetising}. So, slave to his impulses as ever, a choice was made, the tiefling going just far enough up that beach that when the coat was shrugged off, it would be relatively safe from the water. And with that, he'd rush, to barrel into the waves with a rather awkward intake of breath at how damned cold it was- a shiver worthy experience that would be pushed past as he began the arduous task of trying to wade fast enough to catch up to the gathering of Cabal Mate and bird carcasses. ..How tasteful. ...One could only hope there was something else of use beyond floating avian cadavers...
It wasn't the carcass itself that bothered the elf--she'd created enough of those--it was. . .the way it appeared. She turned to look back to shore, as if looking for reassurance, and caught sight of Kasyr's sleek form approaching. Relief. It relaxed her features and made her seem almost happy. Not typically a sign of good things to come. Indeed, even as she paddled water a hand had gone below to pat the seaweed to assure herself the dirk was yet present. She returned her stare to the bird, eerily aware of the many others like it that littered the surface of the water like so much refuse. The bird before her had twisted. The tips of feathers had curled and -peeled- back, as though another force had subjected them to pressure. They almost looked like paper that had become wet, and curled as it dried. It also gave off an odd stench, unlike that which the creature was used to housing; unnatural stink. The tips of the feathers had turned an ugly brown, and the bodies that were once white were now stained with the color. As well, blood had seeped up through the feathers, though no visible wounds would lay claim to it. Worst were the eyes, which had turned an unnatural golden, glassy hue. If the elf knew what creepy was, she would have felt creeped. As it was, she was unnerved--hard to do for the elf--and could only look towards the ship. Birds were still circling it, and diving. Different types--where had they come from. The trail of death led to it, as if beckoning the elf onward. One last backward glance and she swam forward, slowly, through the carpet of feathers and death.
Kasyr continued to do his best to close the distance, becoming dully aware of the increasing volume of feather and aqua-borne carrion; to the point where even a mind that had been formerly at ease was beginning to sense something amiss with the situation. It didn't particularily aid that the elfs perturbation was contagious to the empath, making him increasingly wary of the vilified dead. Bit by Bit, one by one, he'd swim closer to the seeming epicenter of this particular disaster, taking occasional note towards what rested about him. ...It was enough to irritate the aura around him, that veil of darkness which normally clung imperceptibly within the mundane vestge of a shadow displaying itself as unsettled as the hybrid, an occasional tendril tentatively flicking from his vicinity to push aside a floating bird that strayed too near. ...Internally, the betting had begun with his worse half, Gospel having apparently awoken at what it deemed sure sign of a disaster; a cackling hiss that surrounded Kasyr it's fashion of inquiring as to the fate of the crew. ...Pleasent Conversationalist.
If anyone was home, they weren't looking outside. The ship, where not decorated with feathers, was bereft of any crew. Which would then be the reason why, with a sudden crunch, the thing ground to a halt among coral and rock formations. It loomed above her now, and she paddled in place a time, as if unwilling to go any nearer. Kasyr's form was sought with some measure of alarm; something had spooked the elf. Her breath accelerated in tandem, even as water was sucked into the ship upon the breach of hull. Lucky for both swimmers the ground below was buoyed by coral and rock, else the ship might suck them down after it. As it was, the thing would only sink a few feet, held upright by the reef that had killed it: an embrace sure to last a good long while. The birds were falling nearer to the elf. That alarmed her, as she watched one shrivel in a few scant seconds, beak propped open by swollen tongue. Magic, poison, or some other force, the elf wasn't going to wait. She swam back towards the tiefling, unsure of whether she really desired to enter that boat. As for the ship, well, it remained in place, if edging deeper into the water. It waited for someone--or something--to crack its rotted hull open and explore the fruit inside.
Kasyr winced upon the ships crash into coral, a particularily wary glance cast to that scuttled behemoth as though awaiting some other catastrophic development to occur, some dire twist of events to follow. And yet, the boat simply rested there, a sinister grave mark to the waters becoming increasingly thick with feathers~ the air rank with the stench of the winged masses. Really, it was enough to make one wonder how much more foul the interiors would be, but, perhaps some salvation could be found. Whatever the case, the hybrid was doing his best to avoid having any of the winged pestilence dropping dead onto his head; a scowl cast up towards the sky as the elfs agitation further acted upon him. Really, at least if it was some poison that had killed the crew they'd be long dead; if plague, perhaps it would be all but clear save for the withering bodies of those last few to have succumbed. It didn't matter, so long as it was not a deluge of feathers and bodies plopping down from the heavens, and thus did the tiefling stray from the elf, nearing the hull of ship. During these moments of silent treading, his right hand would come up, Serpentile tattoo's normally obscured by his coat made easily seen- the likes of which would roil as the tiefling tentatively tried to peer into the ships 'wound'.
Black and wet suffocated the elven woman as she jolted upwards from the hard rocks. She stared around herself, mouth gaping and confusion seeping through her pores. The seaweed was clutched tight in her hand, but Kasyr was nowhere to be seen. What? She looked up and outward, at the ocean that spread guileless before her. The ship sat upon the reef it had impaled itself upon, and. . .winked at her. She stared, and in a rush of diziness sank back down to the shoreline. Sleep. . .