girlblest-blog

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The more I try and understand the world, the more of a stranger it makes me feel.

Christina Wendall, Hemlock Grove (via nevervulgar)

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AJ Sullivan

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scherazadc:

       ♡ — “ Noted. ” Wide aperture and roomy translated to something a hermit crab may have once resided within, thus offering him with a mental image of something the girl would enjoy receiving as a gift of the sea. If he were lucky, he may find a conch shell to offer her. They were such a rare find. He would have more luck finding baby ears, lucines, and coquinas. None were quite as pretty as the conch, nor did they fit the description, but if he grabbed enough, he could craft a necklace out of them.

       ♡ — Z was just about to plunge into the water when the soft huffing of her laugh caught his ear. His head turned to look down at where she sat, all anxious with a hint of curiosity. He’d latch onto that tiny trace of wonder. “ Of course it’s okay. You just have to promise me one thing, ” he mused, a half smile present on his face. “ When we run into a mermaid, you have to be totally cool about it. They have big enough heads already. ” His voice made it evident that he was being facetious. He doubted any of his sea-bound friends would visit him if they saw his human companion.

     “‘When’?” And by now, she’s inching towards the edge of the harbor, jacket slipped off from around her shoulders and prodded into a small pile beside her shoes and socks. “Have you seen them before?” It’s almost as if supernatural beings HIDE from her, but she knows that’s not always the case. Glossing over sticky details that don’t seem to fit in, assuring yourself that everything was normal, that was a human instinct, and Lorelei was in no way an exception to it.      Slowly she lowers herself into the water ( a pair of shorts and a tank top on )— thank goodness it wasn’t too cold today— and eyebrows are raised at his musings. Even if he replies in the affirmative to the above question, his jesting tone would likely make her think otherwise.

     “—–You know, they’re gonna be angry when I tell them you said that...”

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mysticwally:

“I’ve never heard of that. Must be interesting though if it’s about a purple crayon and someone unlucky enough to be named Harold.”

Wally looked at her with a soft expression and nodded slowly. “It sounds interesting. I like books like that. How far into it are you?”

     “It was the only book Ma let me draw all over as a kid. Purple crayon, all that.”

     “Almost finished, actually. They’re kind of running over the curse and how it started. I might actually put it down after that explanation, um...” The book is flipped over, the spiel on the back cover looked over briefly.      “...It’s a series, not a standalone, and I can’t find any of the other books on the Isles. I’m probably going to stop before they do the cliffhanger into the second volume. Save myself the pain.”

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scherazadc:

       ♡ — The robe he’d used to cover himself had now found its temporary home against the wood of the dock, leaving Z’s mostly bare body free to feel the breeze wafting from the sea. He took a moment to take it all in. The water hadn’t been close to clear in decades, but its new hue had a beauty to it that he knew fondly. Though, he had little to compare it to. It had always been that way, in the same way that the sky had always been blue and the stars had always been too far out of reach.

       ♡ — “ Any particular kind of shell ?? ” he asked, voice soft and evidently far more gentle than he had a tendency to allow it to be. She didn’t seem the type to want to hear how loud or outrageous his range could become in its higher registers. “ I think the cool fish thing should be seen rather than told. What if I find something indescribable ?? ” Unlikely, but he could use the swimming partner.

     "The kind with a wide aperture— lots of space inside. But anything, really.” Lorelei’s posture grows more relaxed; knees are lowered from where she’s pulled them up like a barrier, and her legs are crossed loosely at the ankles. The book is set to the side, laying face-down where she’s left off.      At his words, she gives a sideways glance towards the dock boathouse and presses her lips together into a short hum of contemplation. Cautious as she would like to be ( stranger danger existed for a reason, and after all, this was the Isles ), there’s still that voice in her head which urges her to go along.

     “Ur—–” Nervous laugh. “I’ll come along then. If that’s okay.” Childhood tales surface— those of siren drownings and evil water-sprits— but she shrugs that off and decides that Hey, if she was going to write a book someday, any life episode would come in handy, right ??

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ella-solana:

Chocolate brown eyes were soft and twinkling with friendliness. Her smile was gentle and a tad apologetic, realizing she was disturbing the other’s reading. Ella was well aware how caught up one could be in a good book. In her arms, however, she carried a small basket of warm, fresh smelling pastries — the reason for her visit. “Oh, that’s okay,” Ella said with a nod, smile ever-present. “I’m Ella, I live right over there,” she said, pointing over to a small, simple house near the docks and right by the water before turning her attention back to the young girl. “I just realized we’re practically neighbors and I never said hi so I brought a little something for your family.” The young mermaid was rarely ever home, as she didn’t even sleep there most nights or was working at the hospital. The Irvings might have only caught glimpses of her getting into her car and driving away or walking down to the beach.

     Lorelei tucks a fallen leaf into the page she was on to mark her place before standing up to meet the other’s eyes. The woman’s kind demeanor immediately seems to set her at ease, and she offers Ella a sheepish sort of smile in return. The book is slipped into her jacket pocket as the girl steps forward to gently receive the pastries, and it’s her turn to look rather apologetic.       Inhaling the scent of freshly baked goods: “Thank you! These smell wonderful.”

     “I’m, uh, Lorelei. My father’s in town, I believe. I’m sorry he couldn’t come and introduce himself properly.” Her head turns to look out at the woman’s home, then back towards her.      “Did you make these yourself?” A gesture indicating the pastries.

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mysticwally:

Wally hummed in a sort of agreement, walking a little more to the edge of the pier. “Ever read Green Eggs & Ham? It’s a solid read, probably one of my more favorites.” He smiled and looked down at her. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that one, what is it about?”

     “I’ve heard of it, but never read it. Don’t think we had many Dr. Seuss books in the house. The standard fare with us was Harold and the Purple Crayon.”

     She turns her attention back to the book as she explains: “There’s this really old village in the middle of the woods— the time’s never really specified— where a river runs through. The villagers have a thing going on where they sacrifice objects and, uh, people to it because of a so-called curse that started 100 years ago.      “It gets kind of morbid. Makes you need to take a break once in a while and read a happier book. Which means I’ll probably be checking out Green Eggs and Ham.”

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scherazadc:

       ♡ — In recent days, Z found himself immersing himself in more water than he had in the entirety of his lifetime. When he was younger, he was always warned of what dangers lurked in the bottom of the sea, usually in the form of wailing sea women and their penchant for drowning wayward souls. He knew of them less as tales and more as fact; part of being on the Isles meant knowing which mythological creatures were real and which were false. He’d never live out his fantasy of marrying himself off to a dragon whose sole purpose in life was to sit atop a mound of gold. He could, however, dance alongside the witches of the sea. Also, if his strange obsession with bedding a merman for the sake of brevity played a role in his frequenting of the sea, a confirmation refused to leave his lips.

       ♡ — The male approached the docks with a robe falling from his shoulders. It was open in the middle, revealing the soft lines of his bare torso that dipped into his bright red, brief-like swimming trunks that hugged his thighs. It was perhaps the only time anyone would see him without some sort of black liner surrounding his eyes. He didn’t bother dolling himself up for his sea-dwelling friends. He could be less goth for a few hours of his day.

       ♡ — A girl sat in his usual diving point and the sight had thrown him astray for a moment. Did she live nearby ?? He really should have at least made sure his seafaring wasn’t a disturbance to the nearby citizens. “ I’m not sure who ‘pa’ is but nope, I think I’ve got it all covered, ” he murmured as he approached. He’d still be diving, whether or not it was some sort of trespassing. His robe was already tumbling down one of his shoulders.“ Figuratively, of course. I’m mostly naked right now as per the swimming usual. I’m going to look for starfish. Care to join me ?? ”

     Her father always warned her against staying too close to the water ( ironic, considering he wanted her to take on his job when she was older ), but she’d always found peace in the way it lapped onto the shore, and seemed to melt into the horizon if the sky was blue enough. Mermaids, sirens, she’d heard of them, but ( much to her disappointment ) never really seen one. Not with a tail or anything, at least. Both reasons, and perhaps a bit of rebellion stirred up by grumpy forewarnings, usually lead to hours spent on or around the water.

     She sort of winces, turns her head to direct her gaze at some point away from the person. “I... no, thank you. I’ll pass.”      But then another thought pops up, and Lorelei draws her knees up to her chest, propping her torso against it so that only the upper half of her face is visible.      “—–But could you bring me back a shell? And let me know if you see any cool fish.”

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mysticwally:

Wally had decided to come down to the dock and see if anything would spark some … . something in him. The shop was doing fine and he was getting to know more people in town, but he wasn’t feeling particularly inventive. He felt like he needed something new to try, something just random! So, the docks came to mind. What about a midnight swim? Of course, that thought died when he noticed someone near the water. 

“Oh, no. I just came to look really. It’s nice out and the weather kind of drew me here.” He peered over her and saw that she had a book. “Good read?”

     At his words, she squints upwards into the sky, the hand not occupied with the book ( now half-closed on her thumb to mark the page she was on ) moving up to shield her eyes. A cool breeze, surprisingly dry considering the usual humid atmosphere of the Isles, is blowing and rustling the trees on the coast; the sky is clear and there’s not a cloud to be seen. Lorelei nods in agreement: it is nice out.      "It’s not too bad. I haven’t read very many, so I guess I can’t judge, but it’s okay.”

     “...For something titled ‘Pleasing the River’.”

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OPEN STARTER !!

     There she is, sitting on the edge of the dock with one leg tucked up under her body and the other dangling below her almost lazily. Her shoes and socks are in one pile to the right, leaning against a wooden post that reads “NO UNAUTHORIZED FISHING” in giant, flaking letters; her foot swings back and forth a bit, and the toe makes small ripples in the water.      A book in her hand— a dog-eared paperback that has clearly seen better days— has her undivided attention. That is, until she senses someone is watching her and the girl looks up, a somewhat dazed look in her eyes suggesting that she hasn’t fully returned from the grips of her story.

     “Do you need something? Pa’s”— the words ‘not home’ are smothered before they reach her lips— “kind of busy right now, don’t want to bug him too much.”

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humanaggie:

“Thanks man.” He said, and lowered his waist apron back down. Huh. He usually set aside the same thing for a man that came in every morning. “You related the a guy about yea high?”

If so he’d get her that same box. Otherwise he’d need to make about two more.  “Hm. A little sweet? Maybe a blueberry muffin.”

     "...And the, um”— she gestures vaguely at some imaginary spot below her eye— “scar on his cheek? Yeah, that’ll be Father.” She’s surprised that he made the connection, but then again, Lorelei supposes that not many people come in with this particular order every time, and not everyone on the Isles looks like her pa.      "Alright. Then one of those, too, please?”

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     “A bit to the left— There, you’ve got it.”

     "Uh, yes, actually.” Her arm lowers to her side, and Lorelei gives an almost unnoticeable smile towards the boy over the counter. “Eight morning rolls, please? The kind without the poppy seeds.” Usually, this routine errand for her father completed, she would make the purchase and go straight home. But right now, she’s got something of a sweet tooth, and resolves that it’s best to satiate it. A quick look-over of the nearby confections leaves her indecisive.      “Do you have any recommendations for something filling but a little sweet?”

“What?” 

Aggie lifted a hand to his cheek, wondering what exactly the other person was pointing to. He patted around, before finding splattered batter smeared on his skin. With a small, appreciative nod, he wiped it off with his thumb, “Thanks. I don’t know how long that was there. Can I get you something?”

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I woke up really early the other morning and filmed the rain.

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TAG DUMP, y’all.