SHARDS of GEMSTONES

YOUR CARE

Water takes any form.
Sometimes it takes the form of wildflowers growing on mossy walls, sometimes it seems to be the monsters of the dark with waves for claws. Othertimes, water can simply be the sun that gleams above the Sand.

All merfolk know what water is. It is their first lifeblood, what they need to survive. No merfish can go without it, 'less they scorch. It is a need, beyond just where they live and breed. A siren, however, can live on the Sand just fine. They don't need the restrictions found in shoals. They are beloved by shoals for bringing water to their being, finding new meaning in water. How could they not find peace... peace.

This era, known as the Peace of Sea started when Loch, that conger eel, became Escort of Fins in the Ghost Shoal. He deserves it, it was his rightful place in the shoal, to get closer and closer to those he had grew fondly of. In this era, he is needed, as he will serve as more than a stepping stone to others. The sun is still bright young one, and when you wake, pray to the Oyewas that your demise will be sweeter than the hand of man.

Shot open, the eyes of the buck, who sported frizzled hair with a thick brush of fanged gills. His sneer grew large as he turned to face his cushion. The pillow, if you could even call it that anymore, was torn and worn. From the sleepless darkbells of ripping it apart, or expressing the sexual frustration of mate-less scales along his tail. The life of this buck was still fresh, but it was slowly seeping away from him. The siren drew near his mirror, wiping it clean of cold bubbles from last darkbell, and staring at his naked body in the glass reflection. It was murky. His fangs parted from his gums, then showed between his lips, but even this did not reassure himself. His skin was not right, his body was not.. what it was meant to be. Every bellchime, guarding or border duty, it did not matter, every wave it felt like tiwanith's punishment for daring to be born.. as a buck.

Framwhisker pushed back his eyelids, swabbing it of dirt and sneezing. The buck looked towards the laterns across his den, seeing how it illuminated the parts of his body he hated. His still flat chest, his hung girth, the signs of what a buck is known for. What mankind tells them to watch out for. He had no reason to simply not change, but for a siren, attachment to what makes them different is acknowledging that a merfish and a siren are different species with similar blood. One can physically change at will, and the other is permanetly stuck at what they were born with. Even merfish need treatment that helps their body get used to the new change, but sirens need so much more. Surgery, treatment, socialization... everything had to change. And it was a lot more noticable. If I could just transform right now..

Gender and sex. They do not exist in both species. They are obsolete and are binaries containing binaries or trinaries to fit them into boxes. They mean nothing to sealife. You can always change, after all. But that doesn't stop someone like Framwhisker from being... seen as something else. That doesn't stop the culutre of sealife from recognizing these patterns, and ascribing new ideas to them as if they always meant that. This does not stop culutre from evolving to be.. harsh and vile. To tell you that you can no longer act in an army made for bucks.

Duskwave. Could you make an exception for me?

Framwhisker clothed himself as quickly as he could, tossing his uniform over his scales and slipping his nose out of the chilly den. As he exited the cave's hollow, he shook his pelt and panted.

Beside him, a bulky buck stretched his hind legs with a yawn. Gutear strolled off after his yawn, taking a walk towards the gates. Jorm'eyi paddled out as well, nodding his head with the tune of whale hymns on his lips. It had just turned lightbell, but Duskwave had been awake longer than that. She was stationed in her usual place, with the White Whale Shar'mali. She stayed there until Whaletooth sent for her. This was how they operated, no one thought a second thought. At least, Framwhisker didn't. At this point, all knew of their courtship. It was no secret. And them finding something was great. In a world longer than their own flesh and blood, finding someone to spend mortality with is rare.