#square: nautilus

[paulpingminho]

[bluwingz-artz]

Mermay 2023 Day 7! She found a nautilus shell !

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

New Fish | Yandere Platonic Azul Ashengrotto

There was something off with your step-father-your mother’s new husband. He has a small gleaming smile, eyes a darkened gray, a finely cut set of silver curls that always wave over his left shoulder, and a suit full of purple details to match. He has white gloves that are always folded together and a cane with a nautilus shell on the top. It always hung nearby on the chair, against the wall, in the J-brother’s hands. 

“(Y/n), you better not be thinking of playing with that cane.”

Your mother scolded you through her handheld mirror, another gift from her husband. You tore your eyes and hands away from the metal stick deciding to fiddle with the various drawers that remained locked. Hearing her lips smack, spreading the new color, she speaks in tone that screams distracted—like usual. 

“Why don’t you go look at the fish? I hear they got a new angelfish or something.”

You huff, trudging to the office door. Pulling at the octopus-shaped handles you stop. Turning your head to look at your mother, you wonder if she'd give you the courtesy of waving you off. She did not. She was on her hair now, fluffing her fringe and playing with the parts that fell on her exposed shoulders. 

She looks beautiful. 

But she already was before she had that ring on her finger.

Without looking at you she urged you on.

“Go on. I could use the extra time alone.”

With that, you pushed open the door to find the empty fine-dining restaurant untouched and pristine as it was at the start of every afternoon. Making sure not to touch anything, you stood at the bottom of the giant fish tank at the center of the room. The round tank was wider than anything you’d seen before with the top supposedly continuing through the ceiling. When you sent it a passing glance on your last visit the J-brother had told you that on the upper floor was the top of the tank where they fed and put in ‘newcomers.’

But you’ve been to the second floor and that’s nothing but another dining hall with a matching fish tank. If it wasn’t a lie then the real top of the tank was a floor higher. You’ve never been to the third floor let alone offered to join the dinner parties that led up there. Supposedly it was because they had ‘adult desserts.’ You guessed if they had their drinks there’d be desserts too but why they had no problem drinking the former in front of you and not the other baffled you. 

Putting your forehead against the glass, you replayed a scolding not to put your fingers on the glass. Watching the fish and crabs on the inside as they swam and scurried by looking so close their patterns blurred and blended. You let your attention dim to the entrancing colors of the tank and its lively inhabitants. 

The fish living their lives adorned in the glittering jewels of their scales brought back memories. Memories that consisted of you doing the same thing with a much much smaller tank. A much dirtier tank. Staring woefully at the tanks of the pet shop on your old street. Seeing the new cycles of golden glitters huddle against one another in the cramped and dingy tanks. 

It was elementary. After your trip on the bus, you go straight home. Straight home and three squares to the right was the pet shop. Mother couldn’t afford to get anything there, not even the smallest dying fish that seemed to reappear every two weeks. 

“Why do you look over there? We don’t need anything that way! Keep your eyes straight!”

It was meant not to hurt you or the fish. It was a reminder of what was needed. To eat. To breath. To sleep.  Only what was necessary. What was required so that you didn’t die. 

The fish were fed. Every day when the sun first began to shine behind the buildings the man would come with a bin of indiscernible flakes. The frantic swimming became even quicker as they crowded the top of the tank. Some would fall to the ground, propelled in the excitement; left to flap against the darkened linoleum until the keeper’s hand scooped them up. In a few unlucky instances, you’d seen the occasional rat run off with them. The little-big rodent would sit at the bottom of the floor, waiting for the inevitable and forgotten fish on the ground. You didn’t like to think what would happen after they ran away. 

The fish also slept, according to your teacher. They just hovered in place while they slept. You could hardly tell when you watched closely, always seeing those reflective colors constantly shimering. 

You knew as well as the keeper that the fish would die. Even with the roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and water in their gills. 

Why did they still die? 

It was all they needed right? 

“Enjoying the view?” 

The smooth harmonious voice of the establishment’s owner. He looked awful dapper as he always did, even with his overcoat and suit jacket folded over his arm. Wearing his seashell braces and his purple-black tie he leaned on his left foot; appearing uncharacteristically resolute without his cane.

You nodded before turning back to the tank. Expecting to hear the door of his office opening, you were surprised to see the reflection of his luxury name-branded belt behind you. Feeling the older man’s silver gaze, you feel the need to explain yourself.

“Mom says there’s a new angel fish in here. I just wanted to see.”

Laughter-like bells rang from above. Looking up at the man who held his gloved hand over his mouth, you waited while he quieted to a chuckle. With a fresh smile, he took his glove away, speaking in a tone softer than his usual. 

“That’s perfectly fine. Though you should know there’s no new angelfish today.”

You tilted your head in question.

“Yes, today we got what’s called an anglerfish.”

A brush of familiarity caused you to whip your attention to the tank, looking frantically over the vast coral structure. You remember reading about them when you spent time in the library. Over an hour past the time your mother said she’d come, checking over your finished work just wasn’t appealing. Naturally, you’d spend your extra energy learning about them.

“An angler? But don’t they usually live in the deep? How could it be here?”

He swallowed another laugh. 

“Usually you’d be exactly right but our latest edition isn’t exactly one you’ll be reading about in books.”

He smiled at your crinkled noise and the scrunched eyebrows. Putting a gloved hand on your back he urged you to turn towards him. Following his lead you looked into his stormy eyes as he spoke. 

“How about you come with me to the third floor?”

“The third floor?”

“Yes, you want to see him don’t you?”

You tentatively nodded your head. Even from the man himself, the room felt like a forbidden myth. He opened his arms beckoning you to hang onto him, which you gladly accepted. It was a rare privilege your mother said you were ‘too old for.’ So even with the shred of doubt that fluttered in the pit of your stomach you accepted. Delighting in the whiff of cologne and the warmth you got resting your head on his shoulder. Supported by his forearm you enjoyed your elevated view of the tank. Continuing to look past his locks to watch the tank get smaller as you were carried away, you didn’t turn until you heard the familiar chuckles of the J and F brothers. Both were dressed in their usual tuxedos coming down the stairs with smiles wide and teeth as sharp as sharks.

Greeting you with a smile the J-brother spoke first. “Hello, little one. Heading to the second floor?”

You looked to Azul, who answered for you. 

“The third actually…that is if it’s clean up there.”

The silence between them was telling enough, between them that is. For as many times as you flip your head back and forth between them only noting the shared eye contact. And suddenly everyone was smiling again. 

“Yup! Clean as a newborn’s butt!”

“Floyd.”

“Hehehe have fun!” 

The F-brother giggled to himself poking at your tummy with his claw-like fingers before skipping down the steps. With a light bow of his head, the J brother followed with a smaller smile and a gloved hand on his chest. 

“We’ll keep the Mistress company.”

“Thank you, Jade.”

Azul continued up the steps, you peeked slightly over his shoulder as the brothers went through the double doors of his office. As if to get your attention again Azul pats your back bringing your attention back to him. 

“How have you liked your new bedroom?”

The topic came from nowhere. The last thing you were thinking about was the giant bedroom you were suddenly expected to be comfortable in. Aside from the unfamiliarity of the whole building, you felt like your new room wasn’t yours. Not that you missed the crack you’ve seen the uninvited rats squeeze through or the dingy smell of the mold behind the dresser. It was just new.

“It’s good.”

“Really? How so?”

Yikes. You didn’t think he’d ask for more.

“I dunno.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“So you don’t like the room, huh?”

Your cheeks felt hot as he triumphantly held a smirk. Holding your hands over your face you hoped it’d hide your guilt from lying. Gentle prodding against your curtain of fingers had you opening up to peer at the chuckling businessman.  

“It’s okay if you don’t like it.” 

You tucked your head against his shoulder, hiding your eyes and muffling your voice as you apologized. 

“Don’t be sorry you're being honest now and that’s what counts.”

Quickly stepping onto the third flight of stairs you immediately distinguish the change of floors with the even lower lighting. Rather than the tasteful purple-shaded lighting above every four tables, the only thing that illuminated the room was a runway collection of violet floor lights. You couldn’t make out the chairs or the tables all that well only vaguely registering different textures of what was nearby. 

Azul masterfully walked across the floor, maneuvering obstacles that remained invisible to your eyes. Looking around with a renewed fervor you tried to find the fish tank’s top, finding nothing with your limited sight. With a hand on your back, Azul soothed your searching as he came to a specific spot on the floor; quickly snatching a tarp off the ground to reveal what you’d been searching for.

A giant metallic circle filled with water that was rippling with various little waves that promised life below. It surprised you that you couldn’t even see the lighting of the other parts of the tank below. 

“I don’t see anything.”

“Well I’m sure you know the Angler fish isn’t typically used to light,” he adjusted his hold on you, “so we’ll have to be patient.”

As if that were some magic word a ball of light illuminated the surface of the water revealing its owner to be the fish you’d been looking for. With a hanging ball of light, the Angler fish was like one in the books except with some minor changes.

“Why is…everything so big?”

Big was putting it lightly. Its teeth were incredibly long and sharp, snaggling outside of its mouth. Its size was much larger than books estimated and its stomach was enlarged with whatever it had recently eaten. 

“Do you know what angler fish usually eat?”

“Shrimp and small fish?”

“Good job. But we have a very…different diet for our angler.”

“What’s he eat?”

He didn’t respond. You turned your head to him barely making out his smiling face in the dark. He kept his eyes on the rumbling water even as the angler’s glowing light disappeared. He continued to stare at the unclear waters. Realizing your fists were clenched tightly on his dress shirt you shakily released your hold. Bringing your sweaty hand to your shirt you held the spot where your heart was palpitating exponentially. 

“Are you okay? You scared?”

Just like that, his attention was on you, prepared to take you away at a moment's notice. You frantically told him you were not, that you were excitedly looking at the angler fish. But your hands were still tightly holding onto his dress shirt, fidgeting occasionally as the light of the angler appeared now and then.

“(Y/n) It’s okay if you are. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Uh okay.”

“So don’t be afraid to tell me, okay?”

“Uhm okay…why is there a shoe in there?”

Both of you watched as a man’s dress shoe drifted by. Occasionally lit up by the angler’s unsuccessful snapping at the shoe. It looked as though the fish was playing with it, bringing a smile to your face. 

“Uhhh how about we go join your mother downstairs.”

“Awwww.”

“And maybe we can talk to her about getting you a tank in your own room.”

“What?! Really?”

“Yes anything for you, my Pearl.”

______________________________________________________________

Azul felt his latest occupation wasn’t going to be that hard. Specifically in comparison to his current agency as the underworld’s classiest and savvy business for all things. A liquidator of dirty money and the wish maker through contracts; Azul Ashengrotto was not a man to be taken lightly. Not to mention his close ties with the Leech Mafia. 

So being a father couldn’t nearly be that hard. 

And to some degree, it wasn’t.

It was harder. 

When taking up the nighttime routine of a 5 year-old many things were meant to be taken into account. Like the precise temperature of their late-night cup of milk—which was exactly 50 degrees Celsius. Or the very specific wash routine that had to be done, which included having an emotional intervention for a rubber duck that was spouting mold. Or the reading of the storybook that required he voices five different characters.

It was exhausting but so much more fulfilling at the end of the routine when he was asked to lean beside the bed. 

“Mom doesn’t do all the stuff you do….so thank you. Goodnight.” 

The whispers and a thankful peck along his cheek were like the sun’s ray gracing the deep depths. For once he returned the gesture and closed the door he returned to his nightly throne as a contractor of the deep and depraved. Smiling pridefully as he arrived at the final meeting of a man whose debts would never be paid. 

“Excuse me for my misplaced smile, the joys of familyhood truly are a wonder.”

He felt no remorse as Floyd proceeded to smash his face along the table or when he began to plea for his own family after the first tooth was pulled. A sense of disgust filled him to make such soundless gambles when he’d been gifted light itself. It made the final squelch of his last breath that much more earned in Azul’s opinion. 

The infamous contractor never intended to be a father; at least not in the legal sense. He figured the closest he’d ever get to a child was when he needed to convince one to forfeit their inheritance—an easy task he’d done before. 

But then again life never goes the way we plan.

In a way, it has its own chart. It’s own map that leads to a series of coincidences and chance encounters. 

One of those being the unofficial radar of his two right-hand men Jade and Floyd Leech. The twins enjoyed the entertainment that came from chasing down his debtees and those who wished to thwart his clientele. It gave them an excuse from the family business and kept them out of enough trouble to satisfy their parents. 

That being said a menial task now and then wasn’t unappreciated. As much as the other half would complain Jade didn’t mind going to the lower side of the city to pick up not only information but a large bag of cheap fish to feed the mutated monstrosities Azul kept getting gifted. 

So of course he’d begun to notice the wide-eyed shrimp watching the sick creatures swim about. A window of the innocence he seldom saw in his line of work. Floyd would agree, having fought the urge to surprise the little shrimp on their walk home. But that wasn’t when Azul met them only hearing the vague chuckles and pointed smiles as the twins mused about their travels. 

For Azul, it was the woman who’d made a name for herself so soon. Far from being as big as him, she still made it to the ears of his clientele who spoke fondly of her. Known for her business savvy, smooth-talking, and confident personality she’d been able to get into the good graces of many of the underworld’s giants. Something Azul needed, more than ever. As far as he’s concerned as of now she was a mere fox only able to slip around obvious cracks but Azul didn’t mind making gold out of silver. 

It seemed like a small exchange: get a partner who could further his influence for the small chore of protecting her. It also gave him an easy out; to say he wouldn’t be bothered should someone come to clean their hands of her was an understatement.

The only problem was that there was a child.

It wasn’t a problem. He’d never call it a problem without it being an obstacle to an otherwise perfect contract. It’d help his image but should he get attached there would truly be a weakness acquired in this partnership. Bringing up this concern didn’t settle his hesitance. 

“Whatever we have to do we’ll do it. Besides the kid’s not going to do much of anything, they're good.”

Appearing with a faux weakness was one thing but appearing with a weakness that wasn’t was a concern. Azul debated if it was worth it weighing the opinions of the suddenly invested Leech twins. 

“I say we give it a trial period.”

“Trial period?”

“After all typical courting comes before marriage otherwise there’d be room for doubt.”

“I see.”

In no time at all the process would begin where he’d get to know not only the ins and outs of his wife-to-be but the little child who’d been peeking at the top of the rickety staircase. The door of the home she lived in nearly came off its hinges with Jade’s gentle prodding. What’s worse was the musk of fungus growing behind the worn walls and the emptiness felt with the lack of furniture. 

“This place–”

“--Is a dump.”

“Floyd you shouldn’t be honest when it comes to these kinds of homes.”

“Jade, Floyd be nice.”

Somehow it becomes that much worse when she finally coaxes a little five year old down to greet them. The way small worn shoes avoid certain stairs and the way they run past a crack in the floor as though something had bitten you there before. And the robotic greeting given upon the woman's command.

He felt gross. Not just because he’s seen three different vermin while conversing with the woman or the suspicious screaming she said to ignore. But because a child was living through this. 

Even worse the woman didn’t seem overly concerned and more likely peeved that he was curious at all. 

“Why do you keep asking about them? Is it really that big a deal?”

So he’s crafty about when is he not saying he’ll send the child off with Jade or Floyd so that the adults can focus on one another. The problem with this is the woman’s insistence that such attention isn’t necessary. Unclear about whether it’s a defense mechanic or an inclination for negligence but he feels the need to play dirty a bit–staging situations that force the kid to be babysat by one of the Leech brothers. 

“Don’t give them trouble.”

“Okay.”

What he hears back on the not-so-detailed reports from his favorite employees are all extremely positive. Unfortunately being positive doesn’t count for all the concerning information they happen to pick up along the way. 

“Yeah, they said something about the rats in the walls.”

“What did they say?”

“Mmm I don’t remember but they really liked that restaurant though.”

“Floyd!”

Jade is almost worse. Able to record clear likes and dislikes properly he refuses to share. Saying something about ‘doing his own investigation’ while he holds the ‘gifts’ he’s earned close to his chest. He is maliciously vague about the closeness of his newfound friendship with the child who doesn’t speak to Azul unless commanded to. 

He’s changed that now. With a ring on his finger and a new partner in the business, he’s able to start a relationship with a child he’s been worrying about for a while now. Finally able to sneak into that glass- border that he’s been worriedly looking through for so long now; he can finally make a difference.

Technically his work should be done. With a safe home, healthy food, and proper access to health care he should be able to step back and rest easy. But he can’t. Not at all now that he’s seen the innocent wonder he gets ‘playing’ the role of a father.

“I thought your meeting ended thirty minutes ago.”

“It did but I ran into (Y/n).”

“Ugh did they break something? I can tell them to not touch anything.”

“No, they were only interested in the tank's latest edition.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice did they get to feed it?”

“...No. It’s controversial to show a child something so dark.”

“Hmm, I’m sure they’ve seen worse. Anyway, let’s talk about this asset, when I last checked it was booming.”

He couldn’t kill her. The custody wouldn’t go to him. She off-handedly mentioned you’d go back to her family which she left for reasons she refused to share. It was too risky to leave it up to chance that the family she’d leave behind would even be willing to give his child back.

Azul played with the idea of putting her in a comatose state but Jade reminded him that it’d be a weakness to have her immobile. The allies she’s made, the reputation he’s built, the sadness that’d no doubt plague the little mind he’d hoped to protect. Having an obstacle that would constantly demand the attention of his child was a bit too far….for the time being. 

So for now he’d simply get you acclimated, become your favorite keeper, and relocate you when the time was right. You’ve been through so much he’ll focus on boosting your morale. This kind of care takes time and energy; using the elimination method to slowly take out the parasites in your newly acquired tank. 

But no worries, like the smart cephalopod he is he can wait until the perfect time to strike. After all, cleansing unnecessary parasites with crippling contracts was his specialty. 

“Yes, let’s begin negotiations.”

[flawseer]

WoF Reference guide - #01: Turtle, Squid, Pike

Preamble

I'm rather fond of the way characters are rendered in the Wings of Fire graphic novel adaptation, so whenever I draw WoF stuff, I like to lean into that style.

A problem I often run into there though, is that while the dragons in the comic are very expressive, members of the same tribe are sometimes difficult to tell apart, especially in close-ups. Reading the second one in particular is a bit of an undertaking, with a lot of Seawings that look very similar.

So to help myself out with that, I've started doing a style guide for my own reference that attempts to diversify the designs a bit while hopefully still keeping the basic principles introduced in the comics. Just a collection of my own headcanons really.

I wasn't really intending to publish any of this, but then I showed some of my friends and they said "This is cool", so... I suppose here we are. I've done about 20 of these by now, but I'm going to have to polish them a bit first so I don't just throw my dirty sketches at people.

Okay, that's probably enough talking, let's show something for it.

Flawseer Headcanon Refs

Build is somewhat heavy-set/chubby; hates exercise and tends to get second helpings during meals.

Facial structure very soft, round, and smooth; big nose; upper lip ends in a slight point like a little beak.

Eyes are bright, warm, and friendly.

Forehead fins are round with no sharp angles, average distribution of gaps.

Horns are smooth and curved backwards, with a small upwards barb at the end.

Luminous patches in face are polygonal, orderly. Ventral patches are roughly square and relatively large. Patches on limbs, back, and tail are polygonal and tend to cluster together and interlock, like pattern on a turtle shell.

Neck plates angular, slightly reminiscent of turtle shell.

Very petite and underdeveloped frame; scrawny, light-weight build with barely any fat or defined muscle.

Small head; youthful face; somehow nose is always wet.

Eyes are large; expression usually either guilty-looking or close to bursting into tears.

Horns are nubby and curve upwards, dull ends.

No defined chin barbels whatsoever, but a few nubby points growing out the back of the jaw.

Luminous patches on face, limbs, and back are thick, swirly spirals with splotches dotted around, or small clusters of 2 to 3 splotches by themselves; ventral patches are ring-shaped and look similar to suction cups, tail thus looks like a squid's tentacle.

Ventral fringe is very small and wispy, dorsal fringe made up of small leaf-like shapes that are oddly spaced out.

Build is somewhat runty and small; lean with wiry muscle; overall reminiscent of a draconic chihuahua and about as noisy.

Pointy face with sloped forehead; furrows on nasal ridge from excessive scowling; jaw juts forward with a bit of an underbite.

Eyes somewhat angular but still open; expression serious and dutiful.

Forehead fins angular; frayed with lots of gaps and blemishes.

Horns are bendy and pointed; smooth but covered in numerous small scrapes and blemishes.

Chin barbels are pointy and sharp-looking, but soft to the touch.

Face and body show a few small nicks and scars everywhere; little cut across the side of the mouth; ears are nicked and frayed. All of these accumulated from training accidents and reckless behavior.

Luminous patches on face and ventral side are small, flecky, like shards of broken glass; patches on limbs and back are large and pointy, shaped like spades or arrowheads.

Ventral and dorsal fringe pointy with small nicks and tears.

And that is it for now. Next batch is probably going to be... I don't know. Webs, Nautilus, and Riptide maybe.

[blanketedblanket]

Splatoon Agent Headcanons

Feelin silly so I might as well drop some agent lore n stuff

Captain 3 (Tessa)

Mains Custom E-Liter 4k

Grew up in inkopolis and relocated to the most popular spots (inkopolis square, plaza, then splatsville) in order to "fit in" with the people that she grew up with, now thinks that it was a stupid decision but is glad she met the people she knows because of it

Neutral about turf war, but will play if she has people to play with. (normally 8 or 4) Absolutely dominates when she does play, all that experience on the battlefield really gets her in the zone when playing.

Dating 8 (Hachi), after the events of OE, they eventually got together and mutually bonded over not fitting in with their peers

Neglecting their hygiene, they will only shower after a mission. (Hachi is currently trying to help her improve, and it's going questionably well)

Callie and Marie once got Tessa her own matching idol outfit for fun, and she burst into tears (happy ones dw)

Cousins with Renee, Tessa freaked out when she found out about Renee ending up as agent 4. (Runs in the family, I suppose)

Formerly "destined for greatness" as their family said, (star pupils were deemed as good fortune and a bright future in their family) Tessa now refuses communication with anyone from her family except Renee, as she knows that they won't leave her alone about "failing her destiny"

Met Orca (neo agent 3) for the first time and was genuinely concerned for their safety in the splatoon, taking into account how frail they were at the time of joining the squidbeak splatoon. "He looks almost as if a light breeze can blow him away he's so small, AND he’s taller than me."

For the first few days of Orca being a part of the splatoon, Tessa was trying to avoid making to many connections with him and giving him to many tough missions, not knowing if he would be able to handle it.

Agent 4 (Renee)

Mains Nautilus 79

Grew up in inkopolis along with Tessa, but didn't move nearly as much as her. Moved closer to inkoplolis plaza to participate in turf wars when it gained popularity over in that area

Loud and rambunctious to the point of being called a problem child in school. Wasn't necessarily one of the popular kid stereotypes like the class clown, but was more of a funny kid everyone knew but only had a few friends (as in they knew his name, but not him if that makes sense) "So what if I didn't have friends and didn't do well in school? I have friends now and I don't even need to worry about education so what's the point!"

Close friends with Tessa in school and in modern-day, Tessa freaked OUT for Renee's safety after finding out that he was the so called agent 4 that marie would be mentioned by Callie and Marie on occasion (only actually met in person as "agent 3" and "agent 4" a few months after OE

Currently has feelings for Neo agent 3, (Orca) the two do not know eachother in their missions, only on occasion hearing the other agent be brought up in conversation (when at work, the agents instead of using real names use their agent number) They met in a turf war, when both of their teams decided to forfeit because "the other team was just to stong" (ironic considering that Renee's team was losing by a long shot)

Scorned by their relatives, was told they were nothing compared to Tessa because of a genetic defect in the eyes, (expanded pupils and heterochromia) even though Tessa technically had one of her own.

Agent 8 (Hachi)

Mains S-Blast 91

Raised in a very militaristic household (right outside of octocanyon), was taught that inklings were evil scum that have stolen their land and need to be eradicated on sight

Was an octarian general before she fell into the deep-sea metro, incredible skill with the blaster

Fought with Tessa before she fell, the floor gave out beneath them from all the chaos

Considered odd, by the octarians Hachi grew up with, as she had a strange fascination with the above ground

Recognized a few of the sanitized octolings in the metro from when she went to school, almost had a breakdown during the first station because the first octoling she saw was on of her only friends at the time that had gone missing a few weeks before

Dating 3 (Tessa), surprised when she ultimately reciprocated Hachi's feelings.

Brother and best friend were both sanitized, when they found out she was devastated, blamed themselves for their deaths. "When I saw them in the metro, I didn't know what to do. Those were the two people in my life that I knew cared about me, and they were just. Gone. Just like that. Pearl and Marina got me through it, but it took months for me to actually accept the truth. Now that I have more people with me, it's not that bad, but thinking about it makes me tear up a little."

Knows quite a bit about octarian weaponry, as back in octo valley they were trained on the basics of operation on all octarian weaponry. Orca has since taking a liking to this information and talks to her about it from time to time

Neo agent 3 (Orca)

Mains Custom Jet Squelcher

Grew up in a place not-so far off from inkopolis square, moved to splatsville when he turned 16 (Now 18) to pursue turf war

Curiosity killed the cat, as they say, Orca got curious on why there was a man in the sewers, boom 💥 neo 3

While in Alterna, they were not able to evade touching the fuzzy ooze too much, eyes, tentacles, and skin was effected (eyes and skin changed color slightly, and tentacles now have a fuzzy sheen near the browner parts)

Has not met agent 4 as an agent yet, hopes to soon but is in no rush to do so

Used to have a slight resentment of Tessa, Orca thought that she was a rude bitch who didn't care about anything, opinions were changed after the events of alterna, and they are on good terms

At the moment, Orca gets along best with Hachi, they bonded over an overabundance of knowledge on weapons and like to chit chat about it

2 different turf war teams, one with his sister and one of his own, considered one of the best in the area

Currently no feelings for anyone, and unaware of Renee's feelings. (I wonder where I'll take this lmao) "I haven't had feelings for anyone since like what..? Uhh maybe when I was 12 or something. If anyone currently does have feelings for me I don't know what I'll do so hopefully that doesn't happen."

Silly

I swear he has more lore I just can't remember shit

Erm anyway that's done

Thanks for reading this?? Maybe?? (Did you actually read this or did you skip it be honest)

Should I post about Orca's team next cause I really want to

[violethursday]

YOU

Fellow cephalopod enjoyer

DO YA HAVE ANY REFERENCES FOR YA AGENTS WITH YOUR HCS FOR THEM

If not

I WILL DRAW THEM

BOY DO I!

Captain 3: Masahiro "Hiro" Ikeda

Biromantic demisexual, age 24

He has pretty bad sight, so he uses glasses (the half-rim glasses)

^

Has a tired-looking face

Unlike in this photo, he has the "hipster" hairstyle and wears his Octo Expansion fit (but with sweatpants)

Has a facial scar from the events of Octo Expansion

Really really quiet

^

Despite that he was a theatre kid in high school

Plays a bit of guitar

Main color is the classic blue from the first Splatoon game

Likes to use E-Liter (sometimes uses scope) and Squiffer

Dresses up like 2-D from Gorillaz

He and his twin sister Riko were classmates with Callie and Marie pre-Splatoon 1

Is a diehard Squid Squad fan and is still slightly salty for Ikkan leaving the group

Second shortest of the group (5'7')

Agent 4: Celeste Cousteau

Sapphic transgirl, age 19

She's not a squid but instead a cuttlefish and has w-shaped pupils

Eyes are kinda shaped like the eye emoji

👁

She also has a bunch of freckles!

Can be quite reckless

Likes to wear the black fishfry bandana

Local girlfailure

Main color is magenta

Likes to use the Enperry Dualies and Bloblobber Deco

Kinda dresses similar to May from Pokemon

Her mom forced her to play cello but eventually quit for the drums (will angrily shred on the cello if asked to play it)

Has 2 older sisters, a younger sister, and a younger brother

Ink Theory fan!

Second tallest of the group (5'9')

Agent 8: Octavia Takowasa

Pansexual demigirl, age 24

She's Octavio's daughter via severed tentacle

Quite similar to their dad in terms of personality though acts more formal whenever she's leading

Despite having cyan eyes in this pic, they're blue with green sclera and more shaped like the rival octolings

Still likes using her Octoleet Goggles even after the events of Octo Expansion

Girlboss

Has been married to Hiro since March of 2022 (around the time when the Cherry blossoms bloom in Japan)

Likes using Octobrush and Splatana Wiper

Just like her father, they're a DJ (she sometimes samples some of Octavio's music). They're also great at playing the bass guitar!

Sometimes uses a modified version of Callie's hypnoshades at their concerts

Main color is a dull red-violet (which is DJ Octavio's swim form color)

Their fashion sense is a cross of Envy Adams from Scott Pilgrim and Yuko Suzuhana from Waggakki Band

Fan of both Off the Hook and the Squid Sisters' songs

Tallest member of the group (5'11')

Neo Agent 3: Marnie Aretz

Non-binary, age 14

Pupils are infinity-shaped (like Marina and Acht's)

Has a beauty mark on their upper right lip

Eyes are slightly more square with a thousand-yard stare

Very straightforward about things

Acht's (and Paul's) cousin via Marnie's dad and Acht's mom being siblings.

Child prodigy in engineering

Good at playing the keyboard

Really likes eating pineapples for some reason

Main color is a combination of dark indigo with rival octoling red tips

Likes using Big Swig Express and Nautilus 79 (which are my main weapons)

Despite having the surfcurl in this picture, Marnie mostly wears their hair in a ponytail

Didn't really have many friends when they were younger for being "weird" so they just focused on their education instead (totally not projecting myself onto them)

Dresses up like a "midwest emo"

Dedf1sh and Sashimori fan (obviously)

Shortest of the group (5'1')

[lisa-russell]

INK THEORY AND THE GOLD BAZOOKA'S- Cause of Sizzle Season!

This classically trained, all-female 6-piece band creates jazz and samba-inspired battle music. They owe their unique sound to a blend of academic music theory and modern sensibilities. Ink Theory's eclectic approach makes them quite popular with young Inklings and middle-aged Inklings alike.”

— Live from the Squid Research Lab

Ink Theory is an all-female six-piece jazz band. The band has a history of classical training, with the members learning music since their childhood long before making their debut. Their songs were added in Version 2.0.0 of Splatoon 2.

Members

.....Yoko is the band's trumpet player and frontwoman, though she sometimes feels overshadowed by the other members' personalities. She is an Inkling with a mutation that allows her tentacles to have multiple colors, but it rarely proves useful. She is described as often getting nervous before large productions. She also has a weakness to atmospheric pressure; on rainy days she is said to have a dead face and while she struggles in sunny weather as well, she is a hard worker and always gives a solid performance. She has a sister in high school.

In Splatoon 3, Yoko is a member of a new band called Yoko & the Gold Bazookas.

......Karen, the band's pianist, is a nautilus who graduated at the top of her class from a famous musical university. She has participated in overseas competitions and has won many awards, as well as offering emotional support to the band. She provides the band with a crisp atmosphere, and looks self-assured, though she worries that she is not loved by fans. She formed Ink Theory after being amazed by Hightide Era's music,[1] specifically by Taka, who was a senior at the same school.

......Zuzu, the kazoo player, is an Inkling who graduated from a famous music academy. She is closer to the public than the other members of the band, and is renowned for her beauty, often being considered the "flower" of the band. As a result of this, she gets a lot of attention, often being pulled in front of cameras. Fans address her with the Japanese honorific "-sama", which is used to address those one considers to be on a higher rank than oneself. She is a large spender but has never struggled much financially.

.....Oonie, the band's bassist, is a sea urchin, specifically Hemicentrotus pulcherrimus. She grew up in a strict household with parents who are famous musicians. For a short while, she favored bands with a different musical style from her parents, but lately, she has been observing classical music in a new light. She is romantically inexperienced, often falling for self-degrading people.

.....Maya is the band's percussionist. She is a sea anemone who joined Ink Theory after graduating from a music academy. While her professor recommended she become a music instructor herself, she decided she would rather get experience creating her own music first. She mainly plays with Ink Theory but occasionally freelances percussion for other bands.

.....Kitamura is a sea urchin and the band's drummer. She acts as the band's mascot. She has a high singing voice and regularly follows new fads. She lives alone but pays close attention to her curfew.

...................

They've only done 2 songs

BROKEN CORAL :

RIPTIDE RUPTURE:

Kinda surprised that a six-member band has only managed to create 2 songs, than again theirs so many other bands out there for them to compete with, like there rival band the BOTTOM FEEDERS. Funnily enough both of these bands debuted simultaneously and use classical instruments, but have conflicting styles. Not only that both bands rivalry fueled a performance of the ages. Ink Theory chose to participat in a battle of the bands where they faced off against the Bottom Feeders at a popular venue situated in Inkadia called ZAPP square.  Got no clue where this square is located, but it sounds like it was a blast to be at!

Yoko & the Gold Bazookas is a band in Splatoon 3. Their lineup consists of a trumpet (Yoko), trombone, and baritone saxophone, accompanied by a full rhythm section, as well as vocals. The band is a side project of Yoko and other members of Ink Theory. The band was formed when Yoko joined a jam session in Splatsville to test her skills. After getting along with the other musicians in attendance, they quickly formed a seven-member group.

As we all know by that 7th member is the mysterious and quite stylishly dressed Octoling Girl, who is highly likely based on the poisonous blue ringed octopus.

This band has three fresh and sizzling hot songs to their name...

Ska-Blam :

Three‐Ringed Circus:

Rockabilly Blues:

[ms-scarletwings]

Every Dredge Aberration (2023), Part 12

Serpentine Mackerel

Encyclopedia #145

Aberrant form of snake mackerel

Description:

It lashes out with its fangs, and tail. A hissing rises from its mouth, and then from the water around you.

Comment: What I enjoy about this one is not the way that the dark forces have warped it away from its natural form, but accentuated its original unique qualities. For an example, take note of the intimidating look of a real snake mackerel. Good eating I bet, either way.

How to catch: Funny thing, for requiring a trip all the way out to Devil’s Spine, this fish actually has a relatively poor value to inventory space ratio. Unless the wiki has been misled, its base price has been written at $50, matching the same value as the three headed cod which can be hunted right out of little marrow. Consequently, the method to get one of these for your own encyclopedia is not much different either. Haul or trawl at coastal depth, the time of day not mattering.

Tattered Mackerel

Encyclopedia #146

Aberrant form of snake mackerel

Description:

A tangle of ribbons stream behind this fish, its form converging around a shadowy head. A strip slides away, retreating to the depths.

Comment: Still wondering what trick of survival these strands are playing. Are they meant as distractions, detaching in the jaws of prey in order to save the main head? Or, could they be an aberrant way of spawning more fiends, fleeing to grow and mature anew?

How to catch: ^^^, with the obvious sidenote that this is the more valuable variant.

Defaced Skate

Encyclopedia #147

Aberrant form of pale skate

Description:

Bones replace cartilage and erupt through soft skin. A frightened new form begins to emerge.

Comment: Speaking of bones, that right there is the sort of imagery which rolls a shiver down my own. Fantastic job.

How to catch: This critter only dwells in the hearth of the Spine’s volcanic waters. Bring a suitable net or rod and start your search by dawn’s bright.

Rapt Shark

Encyclopedia #148

Aberrant form of ghost shark

Description:

A grinning maw turned upwards to the sky. Wing-like fins, ready to take flight.

Comment: A worrying foreshadow, very very worrying indeed. A creature in all visual ways meant for the depths, away from light, yet threatening to jump beyond the surface. Another one of deep’s warnings for what kind of new world it plans to replace this one with. More interestingly is that rapt was the adjective decided most appropriate. A clever double entendre that I hope did not go unappreciated.

How to catch: If you ditched your abyssal rod(s) before you arrived at Devil’s Spine, this where bad news arrives to tell you that you’re far from through using them. Ghost sharks feast at nearly the darkest depths, and are not picky about the time.

Twisted Shark

Encyclopedia #149

Aberrant form of frilled shark

Description:

Three tails that twist and turn. Three unite behind the head. Thrice the body that must be fed.

Comment: A delicious rhyme, whether intentional or not. An aquatic realization of the ancient three-fish motif, allegedly seen across many of the world’s major religions.

*other note- purely measuring by price proportional to inventory slots required to hold one of these, THIS is actually the single most valuable renewable catch in Dredge, beating out the other aberrant sharks and even the pale grasper at a whopping $50 per cargo square.*

How to catch: They lurk the Spine’s volcanic waters, only able to be brought in by hook and rod.

Grasping Snail

Encyclopedia #150

Aberrant form of volcano snail

Description:

Bony fingers extend though a membrane of mucous, feeling for a target. The frantic eye locks with yours.

Comment: An odd reminder in an odd place of the evolutionarily relation between gastro and cephalopods. What are you but another timeline’s vision of the nautilus?

How to catch: If you are of the same mind as me, this catch may quickly become more nuisance than wanted after you’ve discovered the species. Like the untainted volcano snail, they have a surprisingly poor value per slot, and take up a whole 4 units of space within a crab pot. They can be caught in traps placed down to 10 meters deep.

[les-pompiers118]

Weep, and call it singing

Buddie | 6x10 coda | 1200-ish words | not rated

Now posted on AO3 here.

Title from "Call It Dreaming" by Iron & Wine

On the third day of Buck’s medically-induced coma, Eddie wills himself out of the hard, plastic hospital chair and announces that he’s going to check on Buck’s apartment.

He doesn’t do it to be helpful or because he needs something useful to do. Going through the motions of living is almost more than Eddie can manage at the moment. He’s too exhausted and numb for much else. Time has slowed to an impossible degree. Every breath pushed into Buck’s lungs, every beep of the monitors around his bed, seems to mark another hour gone by rather than a few seconds. Every night stretches out like an endless void.

No, Eddie offers to go because, after three days, he really needs a break from the other people keeping vigil in Buck’s hospital room.

There’s a rotating cast of Buckleys and Hans here every minute of visiting hours, at least two and sometimes more. When it’s Chimney or Maddie or Albert, Eddie gets these indecipherable looks—of sympathy, definitely, but also a knowingness that’s starting to get on his nerves. Buck’s parents are worse. They seem to view him as some kind of intruder in their family crisis. Watching them at their son’s bedside, stoic and silent, fills Eddie with low-simmering rage. Why are YOU here, he wants to ask them. You don’t know him like we do. You don’t love him like we do. 

So even though Eddie doesn’t want to leave Buck’s side, he volunteers for a task that will take him to a place where he knows he belongs—and back to a time when he didn’t question exactly how Buck fit into his life. Because Eddie has been asking himself some pretty damn uncomfortable questions since that lightning strike.

The Buckley parents frown when Eddie assures Maddie that he has his own key to Buck’s place. He takes great pleasure in firmly declining Margaret’s offer to come with him. To the best of Eddie’s knowledge, Buck’s parents have never visited his apartment. He might not want her there, in his safe space, Eddie reasons. Secretly, he also wants to keep as much of Buck as he can for himself right now.

The air in the apartment already feels stale, with a hint of trapped humidity from the rain that’s long gone. Midday sunlight illuminates the white marble floor, so bright that it’s painful. After opening the door to the balcony to let in some fresh air, Eddie falters. The apartment feels as hollow as an empty nautilus shell.

Buck’s going to come home again, Eddie tells himself. There’ll be more dinners around the big table, more game nights—well, assuming Buck ever gets around to buying a new couch. Buck will bustle around the kitchen, his and Chris’ laughter will fill the echoing space, and Eddie—

Eddie will never, ever take any of it for granted again.

Swallowing against the tightness in his throat, he squares his shoulders and gets to work. He goes to the fridge first. There’s not much there, but then again, Buck was probably eating at Maddie and Chim’s house a lot once his parents arrived. Eddie finds a small carton of oat milk that he knows is especially for his and Hen’s coffee. It smells like it’s starting to go bad, so he pours it down the sink, along with a plastic takeout container of hot and sour soup that Buck must have ordered when had a cold last week. The softening berries and browning lettuce go in the garbage can next, followed by the half loaf of multigrain bread from the cabinet. Once the food is taken care of, Eddie washes out the coffee pot and empties the dishwasher.

And then Eddie has to stop, because it feels too much like cleaning out someone’s house after they…

No. He won’t let himself think that way. There’s nothing to grieve about. There’s hope to hold onto. There are still prayers to be said, if one is inclined. Just yesterday, Bobby and Athena sat beside Buck with their heads bowed and hands clasped together, and Eddie could almost hear the echo of his abuela’s voice as he watched them. Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo… Eddie hasn’t been able to bring himself to try it, though. It’s been a long time since he found comfort in prayer, or believed that help might come simply because he asked for it.

He knows too damn well that sometimes help never comes.

Eddie is saved from his thoughts by a small, galvanized steel watering can on the windowsill above the kitchen sink. That’s something else he can do. It will be as if Buck went out of town and asked Eddie to water his plants while he’s gone—ignoring the fact that Eddie is possibly the least qualified person for the task. He can’t even keep a cactus alive. Eddie has a feeling Buck would have faith in him anyway.

The plants on the balcony don’t need watering, thanks to all the recent rain. There are a few small ones scattered around inside, so Eddie circles through the kitchen and living room and dutifully gives each of them some water. Hopefully not too much. He’ll just buy new plants to replace any that he accidentally kills, that’s all. Buck will probably laugh about it later if it comes to that.

He can’t remember if there are any houseplants upstairs, so he climbs the stairs to the bedroom. At the top, he stops, immobilized by the sight before him: Buck’s unmade bed, last slept in four days ago, before their disastrous shift. Eddie sets the watering can on the floor.

Was Buck running late that morning? Was he in such a hurry that he didn’t have time to flip the duvet back over the mattress? Eddie can almost see it in his mind: Buck rushing around, pulling on a jacket and patting his pockets to make sure he has his phone and his keys, the way he always does when he’s about to leave someplace. What was he wearing when he showed up at the firehouse that day? Eddie can’t remember. It feels like a month ago.

With a sigh, he goes to the bed and attempts to shake the wrinkles out of the duvet, but apparently wrangling duvets is another thing that Eddie is bad at. He only manages to make it somewhat smoother than before. The effort leaves him drained, and he sits on the edge of the bed—undoing all his work, no doubt—to rest a minute. God, he’s so tired.

Twisting to the side, Eddie starts straightening the pillows that are piled up in front of the headboard. Beneath them, he finds a black hoodie. It must be the one that Buck last slept in. Eddie holds it up, intending to fold it, but finds himself pressing the fabric to his face instead. Oh. It smells like…

Buck.

He was right here, safe and well, asleep. Eddie’s eyes fill with tears as something cracks open inside him.

Buck.

His chest felt so solid and warm under Eddie’s hands when he took over from Chimney. Please. Please. Please. Twenty times he silently begged, once for each compression. Then paused, so Hen could give Buck two breaths. Then twenty more compressions as the gurney was wheeled into the ER and the raindrops ran down Buck’s lifeless face. Please. Please. Please.

Not a prayer. A plea: Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me yet.

With a shuddering gasp, Eddie tips onto Buck’s pillows and weeps.

[takaraphoenix]

@jalecsquad

Finally finished last year's Bingo Card!!

1. nautilus: Shadow and Nautilus (Malace, actors AU) 2. free square: The Selkie and the Sea (Jalec, Selkie!Jace AU) 3. pie: The Proof is in the Pie (Malace, canon-verse + love/truth potion) 4. literature: Book Club Meet-Cute (Jalec, Céline lives + raises Jace canon divergence) 5. mythology: The Archer and the Sun (Jalec, god!Jace/worshiper/Alec, ancient AU) 6. wine: The Found Puppy (Malace shapeshipfter ABOverse canon divergence) 7. philosophy: If You Were Church (I'd Get On My Knees) (Jalec, god!Alec/worshiper!Jace, ancient AU) 8. seven deadly sins: Lust and Love (Malace, in-universe, incubus!Magnus) 9. chess: Chess Pieces (Jalec, medieval royalty + arranged marriage + ABOverse)

[haprilona]

A Stranger of Paradise fanfic draft

I wrote this like two years ago and never managed to finish it, but having reread it recently, I figured I might share it if there's any SoP fans starving for fanfics.

It's written from Jed's point of view.

.

The steady hum of complex machinery and the subtle vibrating in the sterile air were both welcome and distressing sensations. They meant everything was working as it should, but at the same time they were constant reminders of what was powering the great underwater structure.

While most Lufenians paid little mind to electricity as long as its supply did not run out, Jed had always been more aware of its presence than most. Due to retaining little more than a handful of vague and fragmented memories from his youth, Jed couldn’t tell where his fear originated from. He had long speculated between a past trauma, a learned response or an experience of long-term stress involving electricity. His imagination would attempt to fill in the blanks while dreaming. Sometimes he would have nightmares of being strapped to a chair and struggling against tight bonds in vain. Electric shocks would cause his muscles to seize up and nerves to explode in pain. And always, just outside of his peripheral vision, there would be the shadow of a Lufenian scientist that he knew was silently monitoring him. And when Jed woke up from such nightmares in the gloaming hours, it was often accompanied by a throbbing migraine and an ache in his jaws from imagined rattling of teeth.

Other times the dreams were less intense, but no less upsetting. Such as being left unsupervised as a toddler and chewing on a live wire. Whatever the origin of his fear might have been, one theme seemed to prevail in his dreams; he was always on his own—abandoned.

When agent Jack Garland invited him to be part of the Stranger program, and to become a Warrior of Light, Jed had jumped at the opportunity. A world in need of heroes, where technology was at its infancy, and machines and electricity practically nonexistent. A paradise, by Jed’s standards.

There was a certain irony in the fact that the man with electrophobia had become as intimate with every nook and cranny of the Sunken Shrine as he was with the back of his hand. Despite not remembering, Jed knew he had spent countless lifetimes and just as many cycles guarding the crystal within as the Fiend of Water.

Breathing in the artificial air, Jed squared his shoulders and took a determined step forward. His footsteps were echoed by clicking of heels a mere step behind him. Having always been led by others—Jack and Ash, mostly—and staying out of the spotlight, Jed felt out of place taking point for a change. He glanced over his shoulder, instinctively expecting Ash to be herding him forward as the Fiend of Earth was wont to do when they moved as a group. Jack at the lead, Neon impatiently pressing on, Sophia following closely and providing sage commentary, himself further back and less eager to throw himself at the unknown while Ash ensured no-one caught them off-guard from behind.

But instead of the tall man’s reassuring frame, he was met with Sophia’s inquisitive grey eyes. Realising he was staring, Jed flashed her a quick, uneasy grin before turning his focus on the glass panels separating them from a shoal of fish passing by overhead. He could tell by the hue of blue that the sun had reached its zenith. While some might have felt uneasy at the thought of being surrounded by tonnes of seawater, Jed found it comforting. He likened it to being wrapped in a warm blanket—or being a chambered nautilus safe inside its shell. It was enough to help him ignore the otherworldly technology and give him a false sense of calm in a certain Stranger’s presence whose mere proximity never failed to make Jed jittery and cause his palms to sweat.

The Fiend of Wind had caught his attention the moment she had introduced herself at the top of the Flying Fortress. Jed couldn’t say for certainty what initially sparked the attraction. It could have been the way she carried herself, not quite like the royalty of Cornelia, yet with a certain grace she must have spent at least a decade perfecting. Unlike Neon who was full of fire and brimstone and moved with the unexpected suddenness of a striking serpent, Sophia was like an albatross gliding elegantly in a fair summer breeze, yet as deadly and terrible as the fiercest cyclone on the field of battle. She fit in easily with the rest of them with her charming wit and insightful wisdom. Even their brusque leader respected her highly, never cutting her off in spite of his notorious impatience and single-mindedness.

It wasn’t until Jed caught himself thinking how lovely Sophia looked with laugh lines that he realised just how bad he had it for the woman. He would crack as many lame jokes as he could just to see her painted lips curve in an amused smile. At first Jed figured his feelings would go away once he came to terms with just how far below her notice and status in terms of age and maturity he truly was. But when the persistent butterflies refused to leave his belly like the Lufenians-turned-bats refused to leave Astos in peace, Jed conceded and opted to brush the matter beneath a figurative rug and hope the others would pay it as little mind as they usually did when his thoughts and feelings were concerned.

He would silently admire the older woman from afar—or specifically, ten steps or so from behind—and long for things he knew would never be. Was Sophia’s hair as silky to the touch as it appeared? Would her painted lips leave a mark if Jed dared to press his own against hers? It was a good thing Jed was light on his feet and had quick reflexes; he had lost count of how many times he had nearly walked into Sophia’s back while zoned out in fantasyland. And if she turned around to give him a curious glance, Jed would suddenly find the sky or the tips of his boots fascinating and demanding his full attention.

In spite of vowing not to let his foolishness distract him from the mission, Jed would always make himself available to Sophia and find excuses to get physically close to her—a small, insignificant stolen touch here and there.

An obstacle on the path? Jed would suddenly become the epitome of a gentleman and help Sophia over it. (If Neon raised a brow and jabbed a finger in his side, demanding to know where her princess treatment was, Jed would lightly jest that he was merely respecting his elders.)

A malboro seedling found in the girls’ tent? Jed would take care of it. (It wasn’t the putrid breath of the adorable bundle of vines that caused him to flush deep red from the neck up, but the sight of Sophia in her smallclothes clinging to Neon at the furthest corner of the tent from where the seedling had made its bed.)

Neon snatching the last fruit from their rations? Jed would take a seat beside Sophia and give his portion to her. It was purely accidental if his thigh happened to press against hers and the tips of his fingers brushed the naked skin of her palm during the exchange. (If Ash found it odd that Jed, who used to shamelessly take the last piece of fruit cake—on the King’s table, no less—suddenly lost his sweet tooth, Jed would shrug and mumble something about losing his appetite after watching Jack soulburst a wolf.)

Sophia receiving a shallow wound during a fight while Jed was practically holding his guts from spilling out? He would still insist Sophia take the last potion. (If Jack called him an idiot, Jed would point out that Sophia was their most talented healer and could patch him up easily enough once her own wounds had been tended to.)

It was all harmless, really, and so routine by now, that none of them questioned it when Jed would go out of his way to please Sophia.

Jack had no time for such nonsense—Princess Sarah could attest as much—and kept his focus solely on the mission. Neon didn’t seem to have much experience or interest in entertaining such thoughts. Ash might have noticed the change in him since their group’s expansion, but most likely mistook Jed’s attentiveness as nothing more than admiration and hero-worship, similar to what he held for Jack.

Whether Sophia ever took notice of the way Jed behaved around her, he couldn’t tell. She was far too smart and far too perceptive not to, yet at the same time too kind and compassionate to put Jed on the spot. While Jack, Ash and even Neon would often make light of his skittishness—especially when his phobia was brought up—Sophia never joined in. She would politely ignore the matter and change the topic to something else. Perhaps Sophia pitied Jed and saw him for what he was; a foolish young man out of his debt.

“A beautiful yet unsettling view.”

Jed winced and stared dumbly at Sophia who had appeared beside him. Painfully long seconds ticked by as Jed internally panicked over the possibility that Sophia could read his face as easily as if it were an open tome.

“The sea”, she clarified.

“Oh.” Jed cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s unsettling about it? It’s really nice with the sunlight glimmering on the surface.”

“Indeed, yet you cannot admire it from elsewhere. Were it not for this facility, it would be the last thing I see before suffocating.” Even if Jed hadn’t seen the quirky smile dancing on the edges of her lips, he would have recognised the glum words for Sophia’s characteristic dark humour. “It is the danger that adds to the beauty.”

“I guess.”

Smooth, Jed. You have such a way with words.

He was rewarded with a faint chuckle for his half-arsed effort. Emboldened by the positive reaction, Jed hurried to add: “The real danger is above the waves.”

Water on its own did not do much. But with the aid of winds, even the mightiest kingdom would fall under the force of a typhoon. Jed rather liked to think he and Sophia fit together nicely when it came to being Fiends and causing elemental havoc. His water and Neon’s fire would only snuff out and evaporate the other. He had more compatibility with Ash’s earth when it came to rotting the soils, but Ash preferred the company of his undead followers during Fiendish duties.

The redhead’s stomach did a somersault when Sophia’s smile widened. “A matter of perspective, then.”

They continued deeper into the Sunken Shrine. The surface of the water crystal had shown strange cracks which Jed didn’t know what to make of. Its light was dim, and given a century or two, it would darken entirely as per Jack’s plan to summon the real Warriors of Light. Jed worried he had done something wrong and brought the matter to his fellow Strangers’ attention. Sophia, being the most knowledgeable in such matters, had agreed to offer her help. On her own. No need to drag the others from their duties until Sophia had given her initial verdict.

It was a rare opportunity. Just the two of them in his domain. And yet Jed couldn’t even think of how to make the most out of it. He was so used to being able to admire the object of his fancy while she was unaware and trudging along in front of him.

“Putting the matter of the crystal’s condition aside, how have you been, Jed?”

Jed nearly lost his grip as they descended the ladder. He paused to glance up at Sophia in surprise and swallowed a curse when her heel crushed his fingers. The pain was enough to erase the upskirt view of the woman’s shapely bottom and legs clad in grey tights from his mind’s eye. “Err… Fine! You know, still coming to grips with the whole ‘ruler of the seas’-part. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.” What hadn’t taken any time getting used to was suddenly having the ability to breathe and see clearly underwater, which was hardly surprising considering one of the memories he retained was his love for swimming and diving. Jed sped up his descent to avoid having more fingers stepped on.

They reached the bottom of the ladders. There were no glass panels here, only concrete walls and metal platforms, dim green and red lighting and giant fans to cool down the machinery running the facility. The fine hair on his arms and neck stood up from the static electricity. Jed resisted the urge to fix his hair, knowing the result would make it look like a red-spined hedgehog. Even Sophia’s heavy locks with curled ends were reacting to it, but she seemed to be entirely unaware of the fact.

“I hear you have numerous followers among the aquatic monsters. I trust they keep you company?”

“Sure.”

The truth was that Jed was starved for human company. The monsters were intelligent enough to hold a conversation, but Jed never felt he could bare his soul to one or expect them to truly understand him. The sahagin went as far as worshipping him as their deity—a fact that caused Jed much unease. It was the Lufenians who wished to play God. He had no interest in such a title or role and was content to let the sea creatures continue on as they always had without his intervention. Sure, if he saw a creature in need, the Kraken would tend to his own and keep his subjects safe from any who dared to threaten them too close to his domain. Most territorial disputes came from between the sahagin and the merfolk who had attempted to reclaim the water crystal.

Sometimes, when the loneliness got unbearable, Jed would swim to the shore as Kraken and take on his human form to walk to a dingy pub in Onrac. He kept a low profile, dressed up as a local fisher and took decade-long pauses between each visit so as not to attract attention. The last thing he wanted was to become a local legend. ‘The man who drank from the fountain of youth’, or better yet, ‘the immortal merman’.

“I guess you’ve got plenty of company, too?”

“Indeed. To the point I sometimes have to shut myself in the Flying Fortress to be able to hear my own thoughts. Sirena has made it her mission to report to me the movements of every human civilisation under the sun down to the most mundane detail. I have been keeping watch on the development of mankind and for signs of Lufenian activity, you see, but Sirena has yet to grasp the concept of priorities.”

Figures Sophia would find a way to make the most out of their new life. Jed admired her for that—among other unnumbered qualities.

“I consider this a welcome holiday to get away from the creatures and reunite with a friend.”

A friend. Warmth settled in the pit of his belly. Jed considered the other Strangers his friends and family, yet it had never been stated so matter-of-factly, let alone out loud. It was one of the many taboos among them. No talking about the past (it was too painful), no heart-to-heart unless it was to motivate each other to press on (they had to stay strong), no talking about Jack’s relationship with Princess Sarah (they couldn’t afford to be selfish), no talking about what will happen to them after the world is saved from Lufenians (they were willing sacrifices for the future of all humanity) and so on and so forth.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like! Plenty of room even for six-headed dragonesses.” Jed grimaced internally at just how pathetic he sounded. He was making a right fool out of himself. Not that that was anything new.

“Gladly, considering the issue with the crystal is unlikely to be solved in a day.” The corners of Sophia’s eyes crinkled and her mouth twisted in a teasing manner. “And I would not object either way. I have missed exchanging thoughts with a fellow human. It is not easy to keep distance, yet had I not, I would not be able to deal with my guilty conscience.”

Jed knew exactly what Sophia meant by it. They all had blood on their hands. The dimming of the crystals had not been achieved without sacrifices. But as Jack kept reminding them, the end justifies the means. Jed was perfectly aware the merfolk were not merely upset over the loss of the water crystal. They needed it. Without its light, they would all eventually turn into seafoam and die. Jed never attempted to get to know the people he mingled amongst in Onrac for the simple reason he might someday kill them, whether directly or indirectly. A fishing boat torn apart when the Kraken emerged, the village attacked by a shoal of angry sahagin who had been driven out of their spawning grounds, a trading ship caught in a storm of his and Sophia’s making. Other villages built on less sturdy foundations had long since fallen beneath the tidal waves Jed raised with the help of Ash’s earthquakes in their early days as Fiends. All in the name of spreading darkness across the lands, to hasten the coming of the true Warriors of Light, and to beat the Lufenians at their own game.

[publiccollectors]

Providence! I'm having an exhibit and I'm coming to your city for a quick visit this week. It would be great to meet you at Paper Nautilus on Thursday night. Jan 19, 2023, 6-8 PM!

Protest Grim Reapers Archival Press Photos from Public Collectors

On view Jan 19 – Feb 28, 2023 Reception Jan 19, 6-8pm Paper Nautilus Books, Wayland Square 19 South Angell Street, Providence, RI, 02906

The Public Collectors project Protest Grim Reapers is a dive into the world of discarded and resold press photo archives. This exhibit reproduces details from 27 press photos of the famed Pale Horse rider, spanning from the late 1960s to the early 1990s. Across six of New England’s coldest weeks, we’ll get cozy with the documented personification of death in a neighborhood bookshop. From the back cover of the book that accompanies this collection: The grim reaper is an enduring figure at demonstrations. The reaper—or sometimes simply an angel of death—appears at protests for any cause where the gravity of a death figure feels appropriate. The reaper traditionally carries a scythe and wears a black hood and a skull mask or skull face paint, but sometimes the scythe is replaced with a different symbolic object.  For the past four years I have been collecting press photos of grim reapers at protests against hunger, radioactive waste, animal abuse, the death penalty, the Vietnam war, the closing of a Chrysler plant, demands for clean air and water, restrictions on abortion and more. These older press photos are routinely sold on the secondary market by dealers that acquire the archives of newspapers, or others that have purged their file copies. The dates of these photos reflect the availability of darkroom prints and wirephotos, taken before digital photography became dominant at most news outlets.  In recent years, the grim reaper has been in the news when people wearing this costume attended protests against keeping beaches and schools open during the COVID-19 pandemic. In general, the reaper tells spectators: ‘I am here because this is a matter or life or death for someone or something. I don’t want to be here, but because of you, your corporation, your politicians, or your crimes against humanity, my presence is justified. If this wasn’t deadly serious, I would have stayed at home or worn something else.’  — Marc Fischer / Public Collectors

Marc Fischer is the administrator of Public Collectors, an initiative he formed in 2007. Public Collectors aims to encourage greater access and scholarship for marginal cultural materials, particularly those that museums ignore. Public Collectors’ work includes the Library Excavations publication series and web project, Quaranzine—which produced 100 single page publications with over 75 collaborators at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, and Malachi Ritscher—a project about the late Chicago music documentarian and activist, produced for the 2014 Whitney Biennial. In addition to Public Collectors, Fischer is also a member of the group Temporary Services (founded in 1998) and a partner in its publishing imprint Half Letter Press (ongoing since 2008). He is based in Chicago. www.publiccollectors.org

[pianostarinwonderland]

same non as the one prior!,listen I love hearing people ramble about the things and characters they like it nice to see someone go off about their favorite characters so yes im serious please go on n release the rot!!

[Reply to here!]

damn y'all 😭 HAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU REALLY WANT THIS SO BAD y'all gonna regret this horribly

Brainrot under the cut because this WILL be a long boi

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Į̸̮̪̗̝̭̦̭̕͝ͅ ̴̰̱̥͒͊̉ṣ̶͔̂̇̅͝ẽ̵̳̥̞̦͈̱̊̈́͊̀̓̎̆̚e̷̛̱̜̤̓̈́ ̵̝͎͛̈̋̇͗̀͜y̵̙̜̻͂̍͐ǒ̷̲̬̺̦͎͍͚̺̔̌ͅṵ̶̢͍̹̄̈́̏̆͒̒̚'̷̭̼̞̱̗̦͙̥́͐ͅṛ̴̛̉̏̿̋̓̄̚̕͝è̴̡̡̗̰͕͎̝̣̌́̾̊̈́̒̃͆̽ ̵͔͇̻͓͉͖̕h̸͈̙͈͚̯͈̱͛e̶̪̙̲͐͐r̸̛̲̜̟͍̯̟̭̔́̅̊̎̕͘͝ĕ̸͔̗̮͕̭̗̄͒̈́̕͘͠ :)

Ok first off, I do have some thoughts listed down here already, but we'll have the screaming version of them here.

so now, let's pull up a pic of Azul's full sprite, bless be to alchemivich for this

I guess let's start from the top then work our way downwards~ (just how I like to do it ;) bricked)

SO let's talk about Azul's glasses, as they're a hot topic now

We've always known Azul with his rectangular frames. I myself have always wanted to see him in round frames, but now that we have them, well,,, time for an explanation WHEEZE.

So when you choose your glasses, you have to take into consideration how well they complement your face. Lots of places will tell you to consider the shape of your face, how long or short it is, even the width of your face and the nose bridge, etc. There's a reason why Azul's usual glasses really work on him—there are several factors, but the one I will talk about is his face shape, which seems to be on the softer and rounder side.

Rectangular/square frames work well with rounder face shapes because of contrast. Rounder frames will further emphasize the roundness of the face, which well if that's the effect you want, then hell yeah go for it. But it can also feel a little off, especially if you aim to balance out your looks.

Azul's round frames emphasize this roundness. But the thing is, the specific thing they emphasize is not his jawline or anything but his forehead LJADLKSJKSLSFJ like, it really doesn't help that he pushed back his bangs inside his hat because there's more skin showing aka there's more of that bald feel.

Am I saying that the glasses don't fit him then?

... not at all. HONESTLY IN FACT, THEY FIT HIM 🤡 it gives Azul this old timey wizard vibe, especially paired with the rest of his outfit. And idk, he always had a knack for those types of glasses that have the chain, like it really just fits his character. They're on the more mature side.

Onto his hat, one of Azul's voiced lines has him saying that he pushed his bangs back because the hat itself is so fancy and very elaborate. And you know what? THAT IS SMART OF HIM 😩 because true, his bangs would add a little too much to the visual aspect. The hat itself is so nice though. I always imagined him having a similar hat to that along with a feather, so seeing this coming to life really satisfied me so much 🥺 It's one of the many things I've asked for. I didn't expect the coral design in front, though! That one, I find pretty neat.

ngl though lowkey hoping for a groovy where he doesn't have the hat though 😳 and we get a view of that SLICKED BACK HAIR— bricked

no like . seriously though, imagine we get something like THIS wonderful gorgeous godly sight right here??? for a groovy??? Yana Toboso, I am currently demanding right now.

Anyway, let's move o—

. hold on.

what is this I see?

... let's get a different image just to be sure

. . . . . .

SO WE HAVE TWO THINGS TO DISCUSS HERE

Number 1. That nautilus shell.

It is about TIME that they gave Azul that nautilus shell necklace that is not in his overblot form AND ALSO LIKE, LOOK AT HOW FANCY IT IS!!!!!!! IT'S SO 😭 it's so pretty like,,, uhuhuhuhu after 2+ years of waiting, I finally got this

Number 2. We all know what it is. :)

look at that. look at that fucking s H E ER RRR R R R 🧍 I was peacefully scrolling through Twitter when I saw that crop + a JP user's caption about how they're like IT'S SHEER???? AND NOW I'M LIKE HO FUCK IT'S SHEER?????????? AZUL ASHENGROTTO, THE MAN WHO COVERS UP EVEN HIS NECK, HAS HIS NECK AREA PARTIALLY VISIBLE???????????? I finally know how victorian men feel when they see a woman's ankle.

And I get why the tweels' favorite food are octopus dishes. 🧍 We'll leave it at that .

Sleeves design! Honestly, I find it interesting how the fashion designers in-universe thought that Azul really fit the NRC robes to the point that they thought oh we should make his outfit similar to the robes. And boom, here we see sleeves and gold decor that is as intricate as the robes but still a little different. Honestly, seeing the entire outfit in general reminds me of one of Robe Azul's lines: "These ceremonial robes do wonders as something akin to a business card. Just wearing these off campus will gather admiring glances." (taken from @/mysteryshoptls) It's such a nice nod to that line 🥺 and I'll be honest, the art for Robe Azul isn't one of my favorites, so to see him in this outfit and as an SSR is so rewarding because like #DESERVED

onto the . whatever you call this, the collar?

There's a point where you gotta wonder how Azul really feels about this outfit in general. Like, he was already disturbed that Rollo knew him and where he came from, he was also disturbed that they knew about his eyesight. But that collar design, that resembles the suckers on his tentacle arms, I don't think you can just brush it off as "oh they're meant to be bubbles underwater". It's not a bad design, it's just how does Azul really feel about the outfit with its under the sea motif and even this kind of pattern? 😂 Is he trying to hide the discomfort about this out of politeness? Or is he so private about this kind of insecurity that he dares not voice it out unlike the way he's clear about his discomfort about how they know about his eyesight?

wow ok we got serious there. Don't worry, though...

We're just getting to the exciting part

So of course Azul would have a belt on his outfit. He needs that cinched waist after all 😩 ughhh I have a special weakness for slim waists because the way a slim waist feels in my arms is so , ,,,, ,,, u uu uu u you get this deep primal urge to protect the person you're holding that holding any other waist just cannot give you. at least, that's just my brain being coocoo wwwwwwww

Something even nicer is that the belt adds so much more to the silhouette that the overall outfit gives. It's cinched at the waist,, but then it flairs out with the TAILCOATS

OH MAMAS THOSE TAILCOATS ARE GOING TO BE THE ABSOLUTE D E A T H OF ME

I mentioned it already. I always loved tailcoats. They give that classy and authoritative aura. AND LOOK AT AZUL MF ASHENGROTTO WITH SIX OF THEM

They also look like they're made of a really really good material. Like, just look at the card art. That material looks so nice and sturdy.

AND THE WAY THAT THE FRONT AREA OF HIS TOP ENDS LIKE THAT, LIKE ,, ,,,, , HUHU HUU HUH UHU you know I always always wanted to wear an outfit like that ever since I was a kid? Ends short at the front but there's a trail or a tailcoat at the back, and it's BLACK TOO like u u u uuuuu uu just seeing that on Azul makes me so oughohouohodfoghodf it's everything I wanted and it's really like Disney saw my childhood imagination uwehhhh waddafak !!!!

and ughh hh h ok can we like . talk about the ribbons too and tailcoats and how they just accentuate his legs so fucking well

Like come ON MAN

whoever drew Azul's live2D was thinking with their dicks because why the FUCK did they decide "hoho what if we draw the ribbons in front such that it creates the illusion of Azul's legs being slimmer and then flaring out at the bottom aND THUS MAKING HIS LEGS LOOK EVEN MORE APPEALING TO LOOK AT" LIKE COME ON,,,, THEY WERE DEFINITELY ON SOMETHING WHEN THEY WERE DRAWING THOSE RIBBONS LIKE . THAT . AND THE GOLD TRIM AT THE END DOESN'T HELP AT ALL LIKE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

please like . those pants . those pants look so nice like hello I like those pants. I want to steal those pants. I want to eat those pants.

but most importantly, I hate hate hate the way that those pants make Azul's legs so so so s os os os os oso soo so ooo so 🤡

. ok speaking of legs, we can establish that the tailcoats + ribbons resemble Azul's 8 tentacles underwater (he really isn't getting a break from being his octopus self wwwwww). But I want to talk about the design in the tailcoats themselves??? Like, it's so delicate and really pretty 🥺 it's not like the design on the collar, but it looks more floral ish. It sort of gives the same hypnotic feel as the Fibonacci sequence or even the golden ratio in some way. It's so delicate and pretty and just huh uh u hu hu

Lastly, shoes , ,, ,, shoes. Those are nice shoes. I love that he has heels. . . WAIT HEELS I JSUT REALIZED HE IS WALKING IN HEELS HELP NKFJNKJDNSNSDNFS HOLD ON HE HASN'T BEEN COMPLANING ABOUT THE HEELS ???? HE'S ACTUALLY BALANCING ON THOSE HEELS?????? HE'S DOING OK IN THE HEELS?????? ok granted though, they are wedged heels, but like, even wedged heels are hard to balance on if you aren't accustomed to heels (flashbacks to the first time I had to wear heels when I was 12 yrs old and wobbling on my own feet when the heels were 1-inch high and wedged).

last but not the least, you can watch the Midnight Masquerade here. At the Goofy part starting 13:27, the dancers' costume vaguely reminded me of Azul's silhouette that his outfit gives him. Makes me wonder how much Twst team took inspiration from this performance honestly.

SO ANYWAY UH GOODNIGHT I'M HAPPY WITH THIS EVENT FOR GIVING US GOOD GOOD SHIT ABOUT AZUL 🤡

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

20k Leagues under the sea, Jules Verne

chapter 13-14

CHAPTER XIII THE BLACK RIVER

The portion of the terrestrial globe which is covered by water is estimated at upwards of eighty millions of acres. This fluid mass comprises two billions two hundred and fifty millions of cubic miles, forming a spherical body of a diameter of sixty leagues, the weight of which would be three quintillions of tons. To comprehend the meaning of these figures, it is necessary to observe that a quintillion is to a billion as a billion is to unity; in other words, there are as many billions in a quintillion as there are units in a billion. This mass of fluid is equal to about the quantity of water which would be discharged by all the rivers of the earth in forty thousand years.

During the geological epochs, the igneous period succeeded to the aqeous. The ocean originally prevailed everywhere. Then by degrees, in the silurian period, the tops of the mountains began to appear, the islands emerged, then disappeared in partial deluges, reappeared, became settled, formed continents, till at length the earth became geographically arranged, as we see in the present day. The solid had wrested from the liquid thirty-seven million six hundred and fifty-seven square miles, equal to twelve billion nine hundred and sixty millions of acres.

The shape of continents allows us to divide the waters into five great portions: the Arctic or Frozen Ocean, the Antarctic or Frozen Ocean, the Indian, the Atlantic, and the Pacific Oceans.

The Pacific Ocean extends from north to south between the two polar circles, and from east to west between Asia and America, over an extent of 145 degrees of longitude. It is the quietest of seas; its currents are broad and slow, it has medium tides, and abundant rain. Such was the ocean that my fate destined me first to travel over under these strange conditions.

“Sir,” said Captain Nemo, “we will, if you please, take our bearings and fix the starting-point of this voyage. It is a quarter to twelve; I will go up again to the surface.”

The Captain pressed an electric clock three times. The pumps began to drive the water from the tanks; the needle of the manometer marked by a different pressure the ascent of the Nautilus, then it stopped.

“We have arrived,” said the Captain.

I went to the central staircase which opened on to the platform, clambered up the iron steps, and found myself on the upper part of the Nautilus.

The platform was only three feet out of water. The front and back of the Nautilus was of that spindle-shape which caused it justly to be compared to a cigar. I noticed that its iron plates, slightly overlaying each other, resembled the shell which clothes the bodies of our large terrestrial reptiles. It explained to me how natural it was, in spite of all glasses, that this boat should have been taken for a marine animal.

Toward the middle of the platform the long-boat, half buried in the hull of the vessel, formed a slight excrescence. Fore and aft rose two cages of medium height with inclined sides, and partly closed by thick lenticular glasses; one destined for the steersman who directed the Nautilus, the other containing a brilliant lantern to give light on the road.

The sea was beautiful, the sky pure. Scarcely could the long vehicle feel the broad undulations of the ocean. A light breeze from the east rippled the surface of the waters. The horizon, free from fog, made observation easy. Nothing was in sight. Not a quicksand, not an island. A vast desert.

Captain Nemo, by the help of his sextant, took the altitude of the sun, which ought also to give the latitude. He waited for some moments till its disc touched the horizon. Whilst taking observations not a muscle moved, the instrument could not have been more motionless in a hand of marble.

Captain Nemo took the Sun’s altitude

“Twelve o’clock, sir,” said he. “When you like——”

I cast a last look upon the sea, slightly yellowed by the Japanese coast, and descended to the saloon.

“And now, sir, I leave you to your studies,” added the Captain; “our course is E.N.E., our depth is twenty-six fathoms. Here are maps on a large scale by which you may follow it. The saloon is at your disposal, and with your permission, I will retire.” Captain Nemo bowed, and I remained alone, lost in thoughts all bearing on the commander of the Nautilus.

For a whole hour was I deep in these reflections, seeking to pierce this mystery so interesting to me. Then my eyes fell upon the vast planisphere spread upon the table, and I placed my finger on the very spot where the given latitude and longitude crossed.

The sea has its large rivers like the continents. They are special currents known by their temperature and their colour. The most remarkable of these is known by the name of the Gulf Stream. Science has decided on the globe the direction of five principal currents: one in the North Atlantic, a second in the South, a third in the North Pacific, a fourth in the South, and a fifth in the Southern Indian Ocean. It is even probable that a sixth current existed at one time or another in the Northern Indian Ocean, when the Caspian and Aral Seas formed but one vast sheet of water.

At this point indicated on the planisphere one of these currents was rolling, the Kuro-Scivo of the Japanese, the Black River, which, leaving the Gulf of Bengal, where it is warmed by the perpendicular rays of a tropical sun, crosses the Straits of Malacca along the coast of Asia, turns into the North Pacific to the Aleutian Islands, carrying with it trunks of camphor-trees and other indigenous productions, and edging the waves of the ocean with the pure indigo of its warm water. It was this current that the Nautilus was to follow. I followed it with my eye; saw it lose itself in the vastness of the Pacific, and felt myself drawn with it, when Ned Land and Conseil appeared at the door of the saloon.

My two brave companions remained petrified at the sight of the wonders spread before them.

“Where are we, where are we?” exclaimed the Canadian. “In the museum at Quebec?”

“My friends,” I answered, making a sign for them to enter, “you are not in Canada, but on board the Nautilus, fifty yards below the level of the sea.”

“But, M. Aronnax,” said Ned Land, “can you tell me how many men there are on board? Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred?”

“I cannot answer you, Mr. Land; it is better to abandon for a time all idea of seizing the Nautilus or escaping from it. This ship is a masterpiece of modern industry, and I should be sorry not to have seen it. Many people would accept the situation forced upon us, if only to move amongst such wonders. So be quiet and let us try and see what passes around us.”

“See!” exclaimed the harpooner, “but we can see nothing in this iron prison! We are walking—we are sailing—blindly.”

Ned Land had scarcely pronounced these words when all was suddenly darkness. The luminous ceiling was gone, and so rapidly that my eyes received a painful impression.

We remained mute, not stirring, and not knowing what surprise awaited us, whether agreeable or disagreeable. A sliding noise was heard: one would have said that panels were working at the sides of the Nautilus.

“It is the end of the end!” said Ned Land.

Suddenly light broke at each side of the saloon, through two oblong openings. The liquid mass appeared vividly lit up by the electric gleam. Two crystal plates separated us from the sea. At first I trembled at the thought that this frail partition might break, but strong bands of copper bound them, giving an almost infinite power of resistance.

The sea was distinctly visible for a mile all round the Nautilus. What a spectacle! What pen can describe it? Who could paint the effects of the light through those transparent sheets of water, and the softness of the successive gradations from the lower to the superior strata of the ocean?

We know the transparency of the sea and that its clearness is far beyond that of rock-water. The mineral and organic substances which it holds in suspension heightens its transparency. In certain parts of the ocean at the Antilles, under seventy-five fathoms of water, can be seen with surprising clearness a bed of sand. The penetrating power of the solar rays does not seem to cease for a depth of one hundred and fifty fathoms. But in this middle fluid travelled over by the Nautilus, the electric brightness was produced even in the bosom of the waves. It was no longer luminous water, but liquid light.

On each side a window opened into this unexplored abyss. The obscurity of the saloon showed to advantage the brightness outside, and we looked out as if this pure crystal had been the glass of an immense aquarium.

“You wished to see, friend Ned; well, you see now.”

“Curious! curious!” muttered the Canadian, who, forgetting his ill-temper, seemed to submit to some irresistible attraction; “and one would come further than this to admire such a sight!”

“Ah!” thought I to myself, “I understand the life of this man; he has made a world apart for himself, in which he treasures all his greatest wonders.”

For two whole hours an aquatic army escorted the Nautilus. During their games, their bounds, while rivalling each other in beauty, brightness, and velocity, I distinguished the green labre; the banded mullet, marked by a double line of black; the round-tailed goby, of a white colour, with violet spots on the back; the Japanese scombrus, a beautiful mackerel of those seas, with a blue body and silvery head; the brilliant azurors, whose name alone defies description; some banded spares, with variegated fins of blue and yellow; the woodcocks of the seas, some specimens of which attain a yard in length; Japanese salamanders, spider lampreys, serpents six feet long, with eyes small and lively, and a huge mouth bristling with teeth; with many other species.

Our imagination was kept at its height, interjections followed quickly on each other. Ned named the fish, and Conseil classed them. I was in ecstasies with the vivacity of their movements and the beauty of their forms. Never had it been given to me to surprise these animals, alive and at liberty, in their natural element. I will not mention all the varieties which passed before my dazzled eyes, all the collection of the seas of China and Japan. These fish, more numerous than the birds of the air, came, attracted, no doubt, by the brilliant focus of the electric light.

Suddenly there was daylight in the saloon, the iron panels closed again, and the enchanting vision disappeared. But for a long time I dreamt on till my eyes fell on the instruments hanging on the partition. The compass still showed the course to be E.N.E., the manometer indicated a pressure of five atmospheres, equivalent to a depth of twenty-five fathoms, and the electric log gave a speed of fifteen miles an hour. I expected Captain Nemo, but he did not appear. The clock marked the hour of five.

Ned Land and Conseil returned to their cabin, and I retired to my chamber. My dinner was ready. It was composed of turtle soup made of the most delicate hawksbills, of a surmullet served with puff paste (the liver of which, prepared by itself, was most delicious), and fillets of the emperor-holocanthus, the savour of which seemed to me superior even to salmon.

I passed the evening reading, writing, and thinking. Then sleep overpowered me, and I stretched myself on my couch of zostera, and slept profoundly, whilst the Nautilus was gliding rapidly through the current of the Black River.

CHAPTER XIV A NOTE OF INVITATION

The next day was the 9th of November. I awoke after a long sleep of twelve hours. Conseil came, according to custom, to know “how I had passed the night,” and to offer his services. He had left his friend the Canadian sleeping like a man who had never done anything else all his life. I let the worthy fellow chatter as he pleased, without caring to answer him. I was pre-occupied by the absence of the Captain during our sitting of the day before, and hoping to see him to-day.

As soon as I was dressed I went into the saloon. It was deserted.

I plunged into the study of the shell treasures hidden behind the glasses. I revelled also in great herbals filled with the rarest marine plants, which, although dried up, retained their lovely colours. Amongst these precious hydrophytes I remarked some vorticellæ, pavonariæ, delicate ceramies with scarlet tints, some fan-shaped agari, and some natabuli like flat mushrooms, which at one time used to be classed as zoophytes; in short, a perfect series of algæ.

The whole day passed without my being honoured by a visit from Captain Nemo. The panels of the saloon did not open. Perhaps they did not wish us to tire of these beautiful things.

The course of the Nautilus was E.N.E., her speed twelve knots, the depth below the surface between twenty-five and thirty fathoms.

The next day, 10th of November, the same desertion, the same solitude. I did not see one of the ship’s crew: Ned and Conseil spent the greater part of the day with me. They were astonished at the inexplicable absence of the Captain. Was this singular man ill?—had he altered his intentions with regard to us?

After all, as Conseil said, we enjoyed perfect liberty, we were delicately and abundantly fed. Our host kept to his terms of the treaty. We could not complain, and, indeed, the singularity of our fate reserved such wonderful compensation for us, that we had no right to accuse it as yet.

That day I commenced the journal of these adventures which has enabled me to relate them with more scrupulous exactitude and minute detail. I wrote it on paper made from the zostera marina.

11th November, early in the morning. The fresh air spreading over the interior of the Nautilus told me that we had come to the surface of the ocean to renew our supply of oxygen. I directed my steps to the central staircase, and mounted the platform.

It was six o’clock, the weather was cloudy, the sea grey but calm. Scarcely a billow. Captain Nemo, whom I hoped to meet, would he be there? I saw no one but the steersman imprisoned in his glass cage. Seated upon the projection formed by the hull of the pinnace, I inhaled the salt breeze with delight.

By degrees the fog disappeared under the action of the sun’s rays, the radiant orb rose from behind the eastern horizon. The sea flamed under its glance like a train of gunpowder. The clouds scattered in the heights were coloured with lively tints of beautiful shades, and numerous “mare’s tails,” which betokened wind for that day. But what was wind to this Nautilus which tempests could not frighten!

I was admiring this joyous rising of the sun, so gay, and so lifegiving, when I heard steps approaching the platform. I was prepared to salute Captain Nemo, but it was his second (whom I had already seen on the Captain’s first visit) who appeared. He advanced on the platform, not seeming to see me. With his powerful glass to his eye he scanned every point of the horizon with great attention. This examination over, he approached the panel and pronounced a sentence in exactly these terms. I have remembered it, for every morning it was repeated under exactly the same conditions. It was thus worded—

“Nautron respoc lorni virch.”

What it meant I could not say.

These words pronounced, the second descended. I thought that the Nautilus was about to return to its submarine navigation. I regained the panel and returned to my chamber.

Five days sped thus, without any change in our situation. Every morning I mounted the platform. The same phrase was pronounced by the same individual. But Captain Nemo did not appear.

I had made up my mind that I should never see him again, when, on the 16th November, on returning to my room with Ned and Conseil, I found upon my table a note addressed to me. I opened it impatiently. It was written in a bold, clear hand, the characters rather pointed, recalling the German type. The note was worded as follows—

16th of November, 1867.

TO PROFESSOR ARONNAX, On board the Nautilus.

Captain Nemo invites Professor Aronnax to a hunting-party, which will take place to-morrow morning in the forests of the island of Crespo. He hopes that nothing will prevent the Professor from being present, and he will with pleasure see him joined by his companions.

CAPTAIN NEMO, Commander of the Nautilus.

“A hunt!” exclaimed Ned.

“And in the forests of the island of Crespo!” added Conseil.

“Oh! then the gentleman is going on terra firma?” replied Ned Land.

“That seems to me to be clearly indicated,” said I, reading the letter once more.

“Well, we must accept,” said the Canadian. “But once more on dry ground, we shall know what to do. Indeed, I shall not be sorry to eat a piece of fresh venison.”

Without seeking to reconcile what was contradictory between Captain Nemo’s manifest aversion to islands and continents, and his invitation to hunt in a forest, I contented myself with replying—

“Let us first see where the island of Crespo is.”

I consulted the planisphere, and in 32° 40′ north lat. and 157° 50′ west long., I found a small island, recognised in 1801 by Captain Crespo, and marked in the ancient Spanish maps as Rocca de la Plata, the meaning of which is “The Silver Rock.” We were then about eighteen hundred miles from our starting-point, and the course of the Nautilus, a little changed, was bringing it back towards the south-east.

I showed this little rock lost in the midst of the North Pacific to my companions.

“If Captain Nemo does sometimes go on dry ground,” said I, “he at least chooses desert islands.”

Ned Land shrugged his shoulders without speaking, and Conseil and he left me.

After supper, which was served by the steward mute and impassive, I went to bed, not without some anxiety.

The next morning, the 17th of November, on awakening, I felt that the Nautilus was perfectly still. I dressed quickly and entered the saloon.

Captain Nemo was there, waiting for me. He rose, bowed, and asked me if it was convenient for me to accompany him. As he made no allusion to his absence during the last eight days, I did not mention it, and simply answered that my companions and myself were ready to follow him.

We entered the dining-room, where breakfast was served.

“M. Aronnax,” said the Captain, “pray, share my breakfast without ceremony; we will chat as we eat. For though I promised you a walk in the forest, I did not undertake to find hotels there. So breakfast as a man who will most likely not have his dinner till very late.”

I did honour to the repast. It was composed of several kinds of fish, and slices of holothuridæ (excellent zoophytes), and different sorts of sea-weed. Our drink consisted of pure water, to which the Captain added some drops of a fermented liquor, extracted by the Kamschatcha method from a sea-weed known under the name of Rhodomenia palmata. Captain Nemo ate at first without saying a word. Then he began—

“Sir, when I proposed to you to hunt in my submarine forest of Crespo, you evidently thought me mad. Sir, you should never judge lightly of any man.”

“But Captain, believe me——”

“Be kind enough to listen, and you will then see whether you have any cause to accuse me of folly and contradiction.”

“I listen.”

“You know as well as I do, Professor, that man can live under water, providing he carries with him a sufficient supply of breathable air. In submarine works, the workman, clad in an impervious dress, with his head in a metal helmet, receives air from above by means of forcing pumps and regulators.”

“That is a diving apparatus,” said I.

“Just so, but under these conditions the man is not at liberty; he is attached to the pump which sends him air through an india-rubber tube, and if we were obliged to be thus held to the Nautilus, we could not go far.”

“And the means of getting free?” I asked.

“It is to use the Rouquayrol apparatus, invented by two of your own countrymen, which I have brought to perfection for my own use, and which will allow you to risk yourself under these new physiological conditions without any organ whatever suffering. It consists of a reservoir of thick iron plates, in which I store the air under a pressure of fifty atmospheres. This reservoir is fixed on the back by means of braces, like a soldier’s knapsack. Its upper part forms a box in which the air is kept by means of a bellows, and therefore cannot escape unless at its normal tension. In the Rouquayrol apparatus such as we use, two india-rubber pipes leave this box and join a sort of tent which holds the nose and mouth; one is to introduce fresh air, the other to let out the foul, and the tongue closes one or the other according to the wants of the respirator. But I, in encountering great pressures at the bottom of the sea, was obliged to shut my head, like that of a diver in a ball of copper; and it is to this ball of copper that the two pipes, the inspirator and the expirator, open.”

“Perfectly, Captain Nemo; but the air that you carry with you must soon be used; when it only contains fifteen per cent. of oxygen it is no longer fit to breathe.”

“Right! But I told you, M. Aronnax, that the pumps of the Nautilus allow me to store the air under considerable pressure, and on those conditions the reservoir of the apparatus can furnish breathable air for nine or ten hours.”

“I have no further objections to make,” I answered; “I will only ask you one thing, Captain—how can you light your road at the bottom of the sea?”

“With the Ruhmkorff apparatus, M. Aronnax; one is carried on the back, the other is fastened to the waist. It is composed of a Bunsen pile, which I do not work with bichromate of potash, but with sodium. A wire is introduced which collects the electricity produced, and directs it towards a particularly made lantern. In this lantern is a spiral glass which contains a small quantity of carbonic gas. When the apparatus is at work this gas becomes luminous, giving out a white and continuous light. Thus provided, I can breathe and I can see.”

“Captain Nemo, to all my objections you make such crushing answers, that I dare no longer doubt. But if I am forced to admit the Rouquayrol and Ruhmkorff apparatus, I must be allowed some reservations with regard to the gun I am to carry.”

“But it is not a gun for powder,” answered the Captain.

“Then it is an air-gun.”

“Doubtless! How would you have me manufacture gunpowder on board, without either saltpetre, sulphur, or charcoal?”

“Besides,” I added, “to fire under water in a medium eight hundred and fifty-five times denser than the air, we must conquer very considerable resistance.”

“That would be no difficulty. There exist guns, according to Fulton, perfected in England by Philip Coles and Burley, in France by Furcy, and in Italy by Landi, which are furnished with a peculiar system of closing, which can fire under these conditions. But I repeat, having no powder, I use air under great pressure, which the pumps of the Nautilus furnish abundantly.”

“But this air must be rapidly used?”

“Well, have I not my Rouquayrol reservoir, which can furnish it at need? A tap is all that is required. Besides, M. Aronnax, you must see yourself that, during our submarine hunt, we can spend but little air and but few balls.”

“But it seems to me that in this twilight, and in the midst of this fluid, which is very dense compared with the atmosphere, shots could not go far, nor easily prove mortal.”

“Sir, on the contrary, with this gun every blow is mortal; and however lightly the animal is touched, it falls as if struck by a thunderbolt.”

“Why?”

“Because the balls sent by this gun are not ordinary balls, but little cases of glass (invented by Leniebroek, an Austrian chemist), of which I have a large supply. These glass cases are covered with a case of steel, and weighted with a pellet of lead; they are real Leyden bottles, into which the electricity is forced to a very high tension. With the slightest shock they are discharged, and the animal, however strong it may be, falls dead. I must tell you that these cases are size number four, and that the charge for an ordinary gun would be ten.”

“I will argue no longer,” I replied, rising from the table; “I have nothing left me but to take my gun. At all events, I will go where you go.”

Captain Nemo then led me aft; and in passing before Ned’s and Conseil’s cabin, I called my two companions, who followed immediately. We then came to a kind of cell near the machinery-room, in which we were to put on our walking-dress.

[20k-leagues-speedrun]

CHAPTER XVIII VANIKORO

This terrible spectacle was the forerunner of the series of maritime catastrophes that the Nautilus was destined to meet with in its route. As long as it went through more frequented waters, we often saw the hulls of shipwrecked vessels that were rotting in the depths, and deeper down cannons, bullets, anchors, chains, and a thousand other iron materials eaten up by rust. However, on the 11th of December we sighted the Pomotou Islands, the old “dangerous group” of Bougainville, that extend over a space of 500 leagues at E.S.E. to W.N.W., from the Island Ducie to that of Lazareff. This group covers an area of 370 square leagues, and it is formed of sixty groups of islands, among which the Gambier group is remarkable, over which France exercises sway. These are coral islands, slowly raised, but continuous, created by the daily work of polypi. Then this new island will be joined later on to the neighboring groups, and a fifth continent will stretch from New Zealand and New Caledonia, and from thence to the Marquesas.

One day, when I was suggesting this theory to Captain Nemo, he replied coldly:

“The earth does not want new continents, but new men.”

Chance had conducted the Nautilus towards the Island of Clermont-Tonnere, one of the most curious of the group, that was discovered in 1822 by Captain Bell of the Minerva. I could study now the madreporal system, to which are due the islands in this ocean.

Madrepores (which must not be mistaken for corals) have a tissue lined with a calcareous crust, and the modifications of its structure have induced M. Milne Edwards, my worthy master, to class them into five sections. The animalcule that the marine polypus secretes live by millions at the bottom of their cells. Their calcareous deposits become rocks, reefs, and large and small islands. Here they form a ring, surrounding a little inland lake, that communicates with the sea by means of gaps. There they make barriers of reefs like those on the coasts of New Caledonia and the various Pomoton islands. In other places, like those at Reunion and at Maurice, they raise fringed reefs, high, straight walls, near which the depth of the ocean is considerable.

Some cable-lengths off the shores of the Island of Clermont I admired the gigantic work accomplished by these microscopical workers. These walls are specially the work of those madrepores known as milleporas, porites, madrepores, and astraeas. These polypi are found particularly in the rough beds of the sea, near the surface; and consequently it is from the upper part that they begin their operations, in which they bury themselves by degrees with the debris of the secretions that support them. Such is, at least, Darwin’s theory, who thus explains the formation of the atolls, a superior theory (to my mind) to that given of the foundation of the madreporical works, summits of mountains or volcanoes, that are submerged some feet below the level of the sea.

I could observe closely these curious walls, for perpendicularly they were more than 300 yards deep, and our electric sheets lighted up this calcareous matter brilliantly. Replying to a question Conseil asked me as to the time these colossal barriers took to be raised, I astonished him much by telling him that learned men reckoned it about the eighth of an inch in a hundred years.

Towards evening Clermont-Tonnerre was lost in the distance, and the route of the Nautilus was sensibly changed. After having crossed the tropic of Capricorn in 135° longitude, it sailed W.N.W., making again for the tropical zone. Although the summer sun was very strong, we did not suffer from heat, for at fifteen or twenty fathoms below the surface, the temperature did not rise above from ten to twelve degrees.

On 15th of December, we left to the east the bewitching group of the Societies and the graceful Tahiti, queen of the Pacific. I saw in the morning, some miles to the windward, the elevated summits of the island. These waters furnished our table with excellent fish, mackerel, bonitos, and some varieties of a sea-serpent.

On the 25th of December the Nautilus sailed into the midst of the New Hebrides, discovered by Quiros in 1606, and that Bougainville explored in 1768, and to which Cook gave its present name in 1773. This group is composed principally of nine large islands, that form a band of 120 leagues N.N.S. to S.S.W., between 15° and 2° S. lat., and 164 deg. and 168° long. We passed tolerably near to the Island of Aurou, that at noon looked like a mass of green woods, surmounted by a peak of great height.

That day being Christmas Day, Ned Land seemed to regret sorely the non-celebration of “Christmas,” the family fete of which Protestants are so fond. I had not seen Captain Nemo for a week, when, on the morning of the 27th, he came into the large drawing-room, always seeming as if he had seen you five minutes before. I was busily tracing the route of the Nautilus on the planisphere. The Captain came up to me, put his finger on one spot on the chart, and said this single word.

“Vanikoro.”

The effect was magical! It was the name of the islands on which La Perouse had been lost! I rose suddenly.

“The Nautilus has brought us to Vanikoro?” I asked.

“Yes, Professor,” said the Captain.

“And I can visit the celebrated islands where the Boussole and the Astrolabe struck?”

“If you like, Professor.”

“When shall we be there?”

“We are there now.”

Followed by Captain Nemo, I went up on to the platform, and greedily scanned the horizon.

To the N.E. two volcanic islands emerged of unequal size, surrounded by a coral reef that measured forty miles in circumference. We were close to Vanikoro, really the one to which Dumont d’Urville gave the name of Isle de la Recherche, and exactly facing the little harbour of Vanou, situated in 16° 4′ S. lat., and 164° 32′ E. long. The earth seemed covered with verdure from the shore to the summits in the interior, that were crowned by Mount Kapogo, 476 feet high. The Nautilus, having passed the outer belt of rocks by a narrow strait, found itself among breakers where the sea was from thirty to forty fathoms deep. Under the verdant shade of some mangroves I perceived some savages, who appeared greatly surprised at our approach. In the long black body, moving between wind and water, did they not see some formidable cetacean that they regarded with suspicion?

Just then Captain Nemo asked me what I knew about the wreck of La Perouse.

“Only what everyone knows, Captain,” I replied.

“And could you tell me what everyone knows about it?” he inquired, ironically.

“Easily.”

I related to him all that the last works of Dumont d’Urville had made known—works from which the following is a brief account.

La Perouse, and his second, Captain de Langle, were sent by Louis XVI, in 1785, on a voyage of circumnavigation. They embarked in the corvettes Boussole and the Astrolabe, neither of which were again heard of. In 1791, the French Government, justly uneasy as to the fate of these two sloops, manned two large merchantmen, the Recherche and the Esperance, which left Brest the 28th of September under the command of Bruni d’Entrecasteaux.

Two months after, they learned from Bowen, commander of the Albemarle, that the debris of shipwrecked vessels had been seen on the coasts of New Georgia. But D’Entrecasteaux, ignoring this communication—rather uncertain, besides—directed his course towards the Admiralty Islands, mentioned in a report of Captain Hunter’s as being the place where La Perouse was wrecked.

They sought in vain. The Esperance and the Recherche passed before Vanikoro without stopping there, and, in fact, this voyage was most disastrous, as it cost D’Entrecasteaux his life, and those of two of his lieutenants, besides several of his crew.

Captain Dillon, a shrewd old Pacific sailor, was the first to find unmistakable traces of the wrecks. On the 15th of May, 1824, his vessel, the St. Patrick, passed close to Tikopia, one of the New Hebrides. There a Lascar came alongside in a canoe, sold him the handle of a sword in silver that bore the print of characters engraved on the hilt. The Lascar pretended that six years before, during a stay at Vanikoro, he had seen two Europeans that belonged to some vessels that had run aground on the reefs some years ago.

Dillon guessed that he meant La Perouse, whose disappearance had troubled the whole world. He tried to get on to Vanikoro, where, according to the Lascar, he would find numerous debris of the wreck, but winds and tides prevented him.

Dillon returned to Calcutta. There he interested the Asiatic Society and the Indian Company in his discovery. A vessel, to which was given the name of the Recherche, was put at his disposal, and he set out, 23rd January, 1827, accompanied by a French agent.

The Recherche, after touching at several points in the Pacific, cast anchor before Vanikoro, 7th July, 1827, in that same harbour of Vanou where the Nautilus was at this time.

There it collected numerous relics of the wreck—iron utensils, anchors, pulley-strops, swivel-guns, an 18 lbs. shot, fragments of astronomical instruments, a piece of crown work, and a bronze clock, bearing this inscription—“Bazin m’a fait,” the mark of the foundry of the arsenal at Brest about 1785. There could be no further doubt.

Dillon, having made all inquiries, stayed in the unlucky place till October. Then he quitted Vanikoro, and directed his course towards New Zealand; put into Calcutta, 7th April, 1828, and returned to France, where he was warmly welcomed by Charles X.

But at the same time, without knowing Dillon’s movements, Dumont d’Urville had already set out to find the scene of the wreck. And they had learned from a whaler that some medals and a cross of St. Louis had been found in the hands of some savages of Louisiade and New Caledonia. Dumont d’Urville, commander of the Astrolabe, had then sailed, and two months after Dillon had left Vanikoro he put into Hobart Town. There he learned the results of Dillon’s inquiries, and found that a certain James Hobbs, second lieutenant of the Union of Calcutta, after landing on an island situated 8° 18′ S. lat., and 156° 30′ E. long., had seen some iron bars and red stuffs used by the natives of these parts. Dumont d’Urville, much perplexed, and not knowing how to credit the reports of low-class journals, decided to follow Dillon’s track.

On the 10th of February, 1828, the Astrolabe appeared off Tikopia, and took as guide and interpreter a deserter found on the island; made his way to Vanikoro, sighted it on the 12th inst., lay among the reefs until the 14th, and not until the 20th did he cast anchor within the barrier in the harbour of Vanou.

On the 23rd, several officers went round the island and brought back some unimportant trifles. The natives, adopting a system of denials and evasions, refused to take them to the unlucky place. This ambiguous conduct led them to believe that the natives had ill-treated the castaways, and indeed they seemed to fear that Dumont d’Urville had come to avenge La Perouse and his unfortunate crew.

However, on the 26th, appeased by some presents, and understanding that they had no reprisals to fear, they led M. Jacquireot to the scene of the wreck.

There, in three or four fathoms of water, between the reefs of Pacou and Vanou, lay anchors, cannons, pigs of lead and iron, embedded in the limy concretions. The large boat and the whaler belonging to the Astrolabe were sent to this place, and, not without some difficulty, their crews hauled up an anchor weighing 1,800 lbs., a brass gun, some pigs of iron, and two copper swivel-guns.

Dumont d’Urville, questioning the natives, learned too that La Perouse, after losing both his vessels on the reefs of this island, had constructed a smaller boat, only to be lost a second time. Where, no one knew.

But the French Government, fearing that Dumont d’Urville was not acquainted with Dillon’s movements, had sent the sloop Bayonnaise, commanded by Legoarant de Tromelin, to Vanikoro, which had been stationed on the west coast of America. The Bayonnaise cast her anchor before Vanikoro some months after the departure of the Astrolabe, but found no new document; but stated that the savages had respected the monument to La Perouse. That is the substance of what I told Captain Nemo.

“So,” he said, “no one knows now where the third vessel perished that was constructed by the castaways on the island of Vanikoro?”

“No one knows.”

Captain Nemo said nothing, but signed to me to follow him into the large saloon. The Nautilus sank several yards below the waves, and the panels were opened.

I hastened to the aperture, and under the crustations of coral, covered with fungi, syphonules, alcyons, madrepores, through myriads of charming fish—girelles, glyphisidri, pompherides, diacopes, and holocentres—I recognised certain debris that the drags had not been able to tear up—iron stirrups, anchors, cannons, bullets, capstan fittings, the stem of a ship, all objects clearly proving the wreck of some vessel, and now carpeted with living flowers. While I was looking on this desolate scene, Captain Nemo said, in a sad voice:

“Commander La Perouse set out 7th December, 1785, with his vessels La Boussole and the Astrolabe. He first cast anchor at Botany Bay, visited the Friendly Isles, New Caledonia, then directed his course towards Santa Cruz, and put into Namouka, one of the Hapai group. Then his vessels struck on the unknown reefs of Vanikoro. The Boussole, which went first, ran aground on the southerly coast. The Astrolabe went to its help, and ran aground too. The first vessel was destroyed almost immediately. The second, stranded under the wind, resisted some days. The natives made the castaways welcome. They installed themselves in the island, and constructed a smaller boat with the debris of the two large ones. Some sailors stayed willingly at Vanikoro; the others, weak and ill, set out with La Perouse. They directed their course towards the Solomon Islands, and there perished, with everything, on the westerly coast of the chief island of the group, between Capes Deception and Satisfaction.”

“How do you know that?”

“By this, that I found on the spot where was the last wreck.”

Captain Nemo showed me a tin-plate box, stamped with the French arms, and corroded by the salt water. He opened it, and I saw a bundle of papers, yellow but still readable.

They were the instructions of the naval minister to Commander La Perouse, annotated in the margin in Louis XVI’s handwriting.

“Ah! it is a fine death for a sailor!” said Captain Nemo, at last. “A coral tomb makes a quiet grave; and I trust that I and my comrades will find no other.”

[unikittybigbrightworldau]

Citizens and Background Characters Galore

I'll add some bite-sized bits of info for minor characters and background characters I haven't talked about yet.

🎊 Fanmade Unikingdom Citizens:

Mabel

Pepper

Calvin

Beatrice

William

Gracey

Marie

Ink

Val

Ribbon

Pheasala, a noisy pheasant/salamander who trained with Hawkodile and Eagleator in the dojo

Maya

Annie

Ringo

Carmine, Mabel’s father

Meryl, Mabel’s mother

Millie, Mabel’s older sister

Scarlet, Mabel’s younger sister

Douglas and Max, Mabel’s younger brothers

Princess Unear, Unikitty and Puppycorn’s mother who is retired

Prince Pericorn, Unikitty and Puppycorn’s father who is also retired

Rosa, a soft-hearted axolotl

Bigbang, an exuberant sports commentator

😠 Fanmade Frowntown Citizens:

Master Cupid

Estelle

May

Samuel

Jane

Mayor Melancholia

🍨 Citizens of Ice Cream Land:

King Dairycone

Queen Snowcorn

Neapolitan

Floela, a friend of Neapolitan's and a butterfly enthusiast

Judge Fudge, a fudge square judge who hears proceedings in Ice Cream Land’s local courthouse and carries out the laws the king and queen create

Coco, a chocolate ice cream

Mintfoot, a mint chocolate chip ice cream with large feet

Dough, an ice cream sandwich 

Toffee Chip, a vanilla ice cream with toffee chips on his head

Caramella, a caramel square

Sprinklehead, a strawberry ice cream with thousands of sprinkles

Bananilla, a hybrid of vanilla and banana-flavored ice cream

Randy, a bubblegum ice cream

Marshscotch, a hybrid of a marshmallow square and a butterscotch square

Cottonette, a cotton candy ice cream

Wafflecone, a waffle cone 

Browncake, a hybrid of brownie batter and cake batter ice cream

Sunday, an ice cream sundae

Olivia, a peanut butter-flavored ice cream

Iceberry, a snow cone involved with the Ice Cream Bowl Palace Guard

Jamison Woolforth

Dawn Woolforth

The Milkman, a cow who harvests milk from the waterways and delivers it to people throughout Ice Cream Land

🦢 Citizens of Swan Lake:

Angela, a ballet instructor and Swanna's mom

Christopher, a trumpetist and Swanna's dad

Ziggy, Swanna's wild little brother

Prime Minister Odetta Swan

Siegfried Swan

Phil, an expert on feelings

Marmotter, aka “Armot,” a marmoset/otter hybrid who Phil was buddies with in college

Fiona, a swan girl

Edmund, Fiona’s brother

Lila, Dr. Fox’s cousin who invented a machine that lets you watch your dreams

🪸 Citizens of Marevi:

Queen Moonlily

King Nettle

Clamilla

Snailtop

Celina, aka Nightrain

Pierre

Elena

Dominic

Felicia

Julien

Yogurt

Meringue

Whip

Emilio, Spike’s grandfather who is a meteorologist and plays the flute

Xenia, Spike’s grandmother who works with undersea technology

Coach Ursula, an oarfish and Shelltop’s volleyball coach

Gabbro, a crab/pufferfish hybrid on Shelltop’s volleyball team and the teammate he’s closest with

Carla, a cardinal fish on Shelltop’s team 

Natalie Nautilusia, a nautilus who is a close friend to Waterlily and Spike

Aura, an oyster and a friend of Waterlily

Dr. Mako, a mako shark who the Seagang and their families regularly go to see for help

Thorn, a sea urchin hairstylist

Basseel, a bass/eel hybrid

Eleanor, a ladyfish

Filippa, Eleanor’s sister

Prudencia, a vaquita

Sardino Beguino, a sardine

Dottie Houndshark, a houndshark 

Angarrot, an angelfish/parrotfish hybrid

Cell, a calico fish (a fictitious species), Eliza, a vampire squid, and Manuel, a manta ray, who all went to film school with Marcella

Chrysa, a crinoid/anemone hybrid and a regular customer of Cream’s family’s bakery

Dave Seaweed, a patch of seaweed who directed Quoth the Penguin, “Nevermore!”, a show that Spike was in

Dolores Whiteside, a white-sided dolphin and drummer

Andreas, an anglerfish

Marlibut, a marlin/halibut hybrid, Cerise Inka, a squid, and The Sea Devil, a seadevil, Marevian musicians who had acting roles in Quoth the Penguin, “Nevermore!”

💐 Citizens of Botania:

Lord Monarch, a monarch butterfly fairy

Fern, one of Kira’s brothers who gardens

Allegra, a butterfly fairy who is a trapeze artist

Zora, a dragontail butterfly who travels across the drier regions

Bia, who makes tools and structures using things she finds in nature

Emi, Kira's grandmother who raised her and her siblings

Desiréé, a deer/mole hybrid

Rose, a rose/ruby Gemflower

Carnation, a carnation/rose quartz Gemflower

Sapphire, a morning glory/sapphire Gemflower

Cherry Blossom, a cherry blossom/cherry blossom agate Gemflower

Freesia, a freesia/carnelian Gemflower

Moonstone, an angel’s trumpet/moonstone Gemflower

Needle

Jessie, Dr. Fox’s grandmother, who has a degree in environmental science

Lucinda, her great-grandmother

Jay, her great-uncle

Forrest, Felix, Don and Rosemary, Benton’s cousins

Vita, her older sister

👑 Citizens of Elegancia:

Prince Alfredo, a white peacock and son of Queen Carnelia

Princess Anastasia, a pink peacock and daughter of Queen Carnelia

Captain Ember, a phoenix and head of the Elegancian royal guard

Sir Arthur Wolf

Felicity Wolf

Benton, Dr. Fox’s father who engineered a space-traveling car

Carriette, Dr. Fox’s mother

Boomerang, her younger brother

Rover, her uncle who is a forensic scientist

Daisy, Rover’s wife and the creator of Snapdragon

Nico, one of Dr. Fox’s cousins

Kamie and Berry, her youngest cousins

Snowfox, a stuck-up bully of Dr. Fox and Dr. Bunny who was cursed with perceiving herself as ugly

Ivy, a poison ivy/violet hybrid and Snowfox’s friend

Dusty, a paleontologist and archeologist who Dr. Fox and Dr. Bunny knew in their classes

🪄 Citizens of Charm Valley: 

Estara, one of Trey’s mothers who can predict the future

Luna, Trey’s other mother

Arcentharion, the elf mage who rules over Charm Valley

Hilda, Imogen’s aunt

———

*Queen Carnelia was created by CharStar. The characters I listed here were created by me.

**Snowfox was a collab between me and CharStar. Her @ is ButterflyRage410 on Wattpad.