revivalproject | Mermay!!

Entry tags:

Mermay!!

WHO: Steve Rogers
WHERE: all around
WHAT: MERMAY
WHEN: MERMAY
WARNINGS: ....MERMAY

darling it's better

Steve can be found on his now early-morning swim around town, zipping past anyone. He'll happily deliver anything to anyone within the confines of Temba, for any reason, in the early morning, since he makes a whole loop around. He's faster than a shark, but he's got a rather ostentatious blue tail, with red and white striped fins.

He seems to be in a decent mood, if only because he's having trouble with a lot of his memories of the past that don't reconcile with his ones of being a merman. Anytime he tries too hard to wonder why there's a lack of water if he thinks too hard, the memory disappears like seafoam.

He's having one of those such moments, paused mid-fin flip, eyes in concentration as he starts to sink, but then, he shakes his head, and keeps swimming. That was weird!

down where it's wetter

Sitting on a rock somewhere, Steve's drawing things into the sand. If you ask, he could make a whole series of drawings, each of them replacing the last, ephemeral in nature, washed away by the waves.

"I can try drawing you next," he offers. He's not sure how portraits will work out in the sand, but he'll give it a good college try.

take it from me!

[ cw: injury ]

Having swum through a whole nest of sea urchins in order to grab one, somehow Steve'd accidentally loosened a whole bunch of them, and they'd fallen, mostly on his tail.

He swims out of there quickly, but he has lots of barbs sticking out. He pauses to pull one out, only to manage to accidentally shatter a few of the ones in a cluster and leave them further embedded into his tail. Trying to violently flip it doesn't really help, either. He needs to swim somewhere he can sit down and address this as best as he can.

"Tell me you have tweezers on you," he requests of the nearest He-Row that he finds.

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Steve nods, delighted. "It was a building." It wasn't any of the ones down here, though, so he doesn't think Bucky would know what it was exactly. It was one of the ones from his memories.

But, as he says that, he finishes up his drawing. "Come look?"

"See? Didn't need twenty questions." Took him longer than maybe it should have, but he got there.

He makes his way over to Steve's side, looking at the drawing. It's actually pretty damn good, for being drawn in and and likely to be washed away by the waves. But the imperfect medium also means that he doesn't have to dwell on those things about his anatomy on which he doesn't like to dwell. "Looks good."

Steve nods, rather proud of his piece. "Thanks," he says. Then, he offers Bucky the stick. "Do you wanna try?" This was a fun exercise, maybe he wants to play too.

He shakes his head, leaving the sick in Steve's hand. "Never been an artist. Won't magically be one overnight." He knows he's not going to be any good at it. Even with the forgiveness of shifting sand he doesn't think he'd do justice to any kind of drawing.

"Doesn't mean you don't get to draw in the sand," he says. "Just 'cause I'm not a cook doesn't mean I can't learn." Might be a bad comparison because Steve hasn't been good at it for a long time despite lots of effort.

The Soldier gives Steve a look, then uses the tip of one of the metal tentacles to trace a star in the sand, near to Steve. "Took my turn. Back to you."

Is assholery a love language? Is assholery even a word?!?

Steve looks at the star in the sand. It's. Uh, well, it's not the best. But he'll give Bucky a pass, because he's not an artist.

"Alright. What's next?" he asks.

The star is lopsided and sad looking, clearly not the work of an artist. But that's fine.

"You said you wanted to draw a sand castle. But you can draw whatever." Bucky's tentacles roam over the sand, searching out a pair of shells that he passes up to his hands. "Found some decorations for you."

"I did, didn't I?" he asks, but then, he adds: "What's the difference between a sandcastle and a regular castle if I draw it in sand?" That's something to muse on as Bucky hands him a shell.

"Oh, thanks," he says. "Maybe you could help me draw the castle."

"Hmmm..." The Soldier makes a thoughtful noise, trying to decide if the question is serious or not. Could go either way really. "One has a moat," he finally decides. "Don't need a moat under water."

But does Steve really want his help? He couldn't even manage the straight lines of a star! He's better off fishing shells or rocks or tiny forgotten baubles out of the sand to decorate. "Maybe. If you really want me to."

He has a point. It's kind of a stupid point, but it is a point.

"Why do people need a moat above water?" he asks. "Wouldn't you just swim through it?" Sounds silly.

It's kind of a stupid conversation. But that's good in a way too, low stakes and relaxed. Somehow it seems important to be able to talk like this, carefree in a way the Soldier hadn't felt often lately.

Another thoughtful noise as he digs out bits of shell from the sand, considering. "What if you couldn't swim?"

Steve looks at Bucky like maybe he's hit his head. "Why wouldn't you be able to swim?" he asks. Everyone can swim, right?

"Doesn't seem like a very good army," he says.

"Maybe you got hurt." He waves one of the metal tentacles. Without them he'd be distinctly lopsided. "Maybe something got you so bad it's hard to move."

He makes a noncommittal noise in response to that supposition. Even a bad army could win on numbers, right?

"That's a lot to hope for when facing an army, pal," he says, continuing to think about it. But, honestly, this whole thing kind of didn't make that much sense to him in the first place. Surely a bigger wall and some trebuchets would suffice?

"Suppose so." And the Soldier doesn't really believe too much in hope; it had failed him too many times. He can't remember most of those times, but the feeling rings true so it has to be the way of things.

"Maybe a castle isn't a good thing to draw," he muses.

Steve shakes his head. "A castle's a great thing to draw," he says. "But now I have to draw it a moat. But - I guess everything fills with water, so the whole thing's a moat." How does he convey that it's not a ring or another wall?

"You don't have to draw a moat," he argues. "Maybe this castle has a pit of spikes instead. We can find some bits in the sand to be the spikes." C'mon Steve, you're supposed to be the creative one!

"A pit of spikes," Steve says. "Well that's silly - shouldn't we just swim over them?" It's very odd thinking why go through all this trouble to assume that the army is full of terrible swimmers!

A pit of spikes does make sense! He doesn't know why, but it does. Same as knowing without a doubt that not being able to swim makes sense. But he can't say that without sounding crazier. Better to just give up.

"Dunno. Moat's a better idea. Or not a castle."

"How's the moat a better idea?" he asks, confused. "I don't know. I just feel like, it'd also be easy to just swim to the castle," he says. Because surely you can swim in air.

Steve does have a point: why not just swim over any obstacle? Moat, spiked pit, whatever. Somehow it felt right to just swim but someone he also knew that moats were a thing. It made the Soldier's head hurt when he tried to reconcile it all to himself.

"Aesthetics," he finally says. "It just has a certain look."

"Sure, but why is that what castles look like?" he asks, shrugging. "Also - there's always a lack of things in the air," he says. "In all the pictures." Of castles, which he totally has. But since he hasn't spent a lot of time in the surface, he hasn't figured out why there's not stuff floating around everywhere.

"I don't know." It's quiet, because he doesn't like not having the answer. He especially doesn't like the way it feels like he should know.

"Maybe don't draw a castle anymore. Do something else instead." The Soldier's lost the desire to see the picture.

He nods. For some reason, the thought of doing things above the surface seem to make him feel antsy.

"How about a stingray? Even you could do one of those."

darling it's better

down where it's wetter

take it from me!

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