abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] she twins her spines up slowly

[ Undeniably, Ed isn't having a good time. He's not having a good fucking time at all, and he probably spent the last two weeks under a very cozy knitted quilt that the nice lady he's living with gave him. It's green, with purple and yellow flowers, and he likes it. It feels like something Stede might've worn. There might've been tears. He definitely drank a lot of tea and soup, and dictated several pages of poetry that he recited to the kids.

Weirdly (or maybe not so weird; they are friends), it's Nanaue's forlorn scribbled cry for his past sea god lover that brings Ed out of from under his soft, comfy quilt. Sort of. Ed actually...takes the quilt with him, wrapping it around himself like a robe as he walks through the settlement. He ignores the goats, but does stop for a nibble of breakfast offered by Ada, who runs the tavern next door.

Eventually, he makes it to the shore where he figures he'll find the shark bobbing about. He peers into the ocean. ] Hey, Nanaue. Are you out here?

Edited 2024-05-21 20:01 (UTC)

[ Nanaue is NOT in the sea.

Despite his multiple attempts to contact Xeimer on the network failing, he has not yet been deterred from reaching the god. Instead, he has been exploring other avenues, making little clay figures of seal creatures, along with his usual paper drawings. These have been left in random places all over the Primary and Secondary Settlements, but today he has decided to try throwing some of them in the sea!

He's actually gone back to collect more muddy clay to make MORE when he approaches the sandy shore, spotting a familiar figure cloaked in a comfy looking quilt.

With silent steps he approaches from behind, his arms full of drawings and sculptures. ]

ED GO SWIM?

[ Ed closes his eyes. Christ Almighty, Nanaue, you gotta stop doing that shit to him.

He turns around in a bit of a shuffle since he's still quilted up. Honestly, he figures Nanaue's doing all right. It's not a slight against Nanaue, exactly, but the shark's, y'know...simple. He's got feelings, like, a lot of feelings, but he also forgets them pretty fast. Must be nice to live that way, actually. Wishes he could do the same. Still, it must suck to lose somebody you were with even if that somebody was a big seal. Those feelings probably don't go away as quick. ]

Nah. No swim today. [ Ed's expression is forlorn, but it does perk up some as he gathers what Nanaue's got in his meaty shark arms. ] What, uh, what've you got going on there, mate? You doing another art project?

Edited 2024-05-24 18:36 (UTC)

[ No swim. Okay. ]

FORGET? [ He looks down meaningfully at Ed's human legs. Maybe he doesn't swim so good now. But then Nanaue's flat black eyes seem to brighten a bit when Ed asks about what he's been up to, the materials of which he unceremoniously drops in the sand. His gills flutter, and if a shark could blush - well: ]

MAKE ART FOR ZEEEEEMER.

[ He plops down in front of his messy pile and starts sorting out the unmolded lumps of clay, now covered in a layer of sand. ]

[ Ed also looks down at his legs with Nanaue. Wh—oh. ] No, I can still swim. Just, uh, not really up to it.

[ The melancholy's got him in its icy grip. He shuffles towards the shark, peering over the lumps of clay. It is, yeah, covered in sand, and that's...probably not ideal, but what does Ed know about pottery?

He sits down with Nanaue and sighs. ]

Y'know, I really want this for you, man, I do, but...are you sure he's gonna remember you? Even if he pops up to say hello?

[ Nanaue nods. Sometimes he doesn't feel like swimming either. Sometimes he goes days without swimming, although that's mostly because the beach isn't so close to the Primary Settlement, and he doesn't like the lakes as much.

He grabs some sand covered clay in his fist and begins shaping it with his hands. To the question he stares at Ed for a long moment, as if processing, then gives a big shrug. ]

NO REMEMBER, OKAY. MAKE FRIENDS AGAIN!

[ He is not deterred by this thought. But upon peering at Ed for that long moment, he adds, with some perceptiveness: ]

... SAD ED?

[ He has noticed some people seem sad since they came back. Some friends haven't answered his messages in a long while. ]

[ Oh. Huh. That's a surprisingly positive way to look at it? Ed has a brief second where he wonders what it means that a shark has a better outlook on life than he does, but then, maybe it's 'cause Nanaue is a shark. ]

Guess you're right.

[ He takes a ball of sand and starts to roll it in his hands, too. He frowns. That's sort of the thing, yeah? In the past, when he was sad, he'd go to Stede. Ignoring the times he did...other stuff instead, but, well. ]

I dunno. Maybe. I mean, it's not like anything happened for real. I just...had a nice dream, and then it was fuckin' gone. [ He looks at Nanaue. ] Hey, do sharks fall in love?

[ Nanaue enjoys being told he's right. He smiles widely to himself as he continues molding the clay - really just moving it back and forth between his large hands trying to smooth the shape. ]

NICE DREAM... [ he says this like agreement, trailing off in thought as he pokes two holes in the clay ball with the tips of his fingers. ]

SHARK LOVE... FRIEND? [ or... ] SHARK LOVE... ?

[ Nanaue sticks his finger in and out of the hole he made while staring Ed in the eye, curious. ]

[ Ed makes a vague eugh face as he watches Nanaue's thick finger wiggle in the hole. Not sure what's being made here, but he'll let it proceed.

He's still watching that finger when he says, with an inching sense of trepidation as to where Nanaue might take this conversation, ] Shark love...friend? Holding hands. Telling each other your day. Knowing exactly how your shark friend takes his seaweed tea. Stuff like that.

[ Is he projecting? Maybe a little.

He thinks Nanaue's feelings are valid. Seal and shark love and all. It's sort of romantic, when you think about it, and maybe he, like, misses having romance in his life? It sucks to lose your best friend and forget all about him. ]

Edited 2024-06-14 19:49 (UTC)

[ When Ed goes eugh Nanaue stops for a second, then adds a second finger to his pantomiming fingers-in-hole, as though this might help.

Love friend... holding hands...

He stops jamming his fingers into his finger-hole and stares at Ed for another long moment, gears turning. Then, he lowers his arms and nods. ]

SWIM DEEEEEP. NOT TALK, WE LIKE LAY IN SAND. DARK AND SOOOOFT. PLAY WITH ROCKS. DANCE! EAT FISH. LIKE THAT?

[ No seaweed tea, though. ]

[ That does not help, Nanaue.

Ed's expression takes on a forlorn look. He, too, remembers laying in the sand and eating fish and dancing. For a long moment, he's uncharacteristically quiet. Then he perks back up, like he's made a decision. ]

My shark-footed friend— [ Ed places a hand on Nanaue's shoulder earnestly and squeezes. ] —we're gonna get you the love of your life back. I promise.

[ He'll do whatever it takes. ]

[ in the distance, the rumble of school bus assembled in the 70s and somehow still chugging along, now with a 2 Fast 2 Furious turbo boost button, sounds in the distance and jerry cruises along the horizon coast, loudly singing along to Hello, Dolly! by American jazz pioneer and trumpet mastermind, Louis Armstrong. He’s just off having an exploration, doing a little adventure, checking out the sights and seeing if he spots anyone familiar from that 800 years worth of alternate reality.

That's when he spots the quaint little inn at the edge of the sea and decides to check it out. Only once he gets closer does he notice the sign - ED'S SEASIDE INN & FISHING GOODIES - along with the lump of fabric blobbing onto the front porch. It compels him.

The brakes squeal and engine whines as he puts his bus-camper in park and hops out, ready for a fun beach episode with some pool noodles, some floats, wearing some swim trunks decorated with cats wearing bandanas and cowboy hats. However, the fabric lump, which he now recognizes as a blanket lump, doesn’t look to be in a festive mood.

Everyone’s a little bent out of shape after that back to the future kerfuffle. Some worse than others, but it makes sense Ed might’ve had some things come to light, or return to some fresh wounds he wasn’t ready to dig into. Jerry likes to think they shared some stuff, got a little vulnerable, developed some trust, but he’s sure there’s more Ed had weighing on him. Poor guy, looks like he’s in a bad way. Jerry’s never been good at minding his own business when someone’s in distress. He waddles his way over, dropping the pool toys to the side, and starts tugging up the edges of the blanket. ]

Is that my amphibious buddy in there? Ed? Eddie boo? [ continuing to pry up the edges of the blanket, jerry digs for his little pirate homie. ] My silly muffin? My cheeky cantaloupe? You gucci, bro?

[ he digs and he digs and he digs until he finds himself inside the blanket with ed, scooting up next to the man to share his depression cocoon. No one should depression cocoon alone when there’s friends nearby. ]

It’s cozy in here. I feel so secure and snuggly — Oh, wow, it’s you! What a relief, could’ve been reaaal awkward. [ but that’s a risk he was willing to take. There’s a crinkle as jerry pulls something from his swim trunks pocket. ] Want some barbeque chips?

[ they’re a little crushed up, but still good. ]

[ Between his settling in Solvunn's peaceful farmlands (except when the goat-fuelled whirlwinds come barrelling down at you) and Ed's 24/7 life at sea, and also being from the 1700s, there are certain noises Ed just isn't used to hearing. Has never heard before, actually, and that includes the industrial squall of twelve tonnes of steel and rubber.

Ed is in there. The primary signal that Ed is in there is a muffled Ahhhh! as the racket startles him from under his misery blanket fort when Jerry approaches.

Oh. Yeah. He knows who that is. Ed flips open one tiny flap of blanket, which Jerry takes as an invitation to snuggle up with him, and y'know, he doesn't think he minds. Jerry's nice. Jerry's not Stede because nobody can be Stede and Ed is pretty sure his heart will be broken for-fucking-ever, but Jerry's a really good friend and they had...some dalliances, and he's not sure if he should feel guilty about that or not 'cause it was, like, hundreds of years later and he thinks Stede would've wanted him to move on. Or be happy or whatever.

But it's a really miserable feeling to come back and realize in a thousand years, he's never gonna see his boyfriend again. ]

Hey. [ Ed props his chin up on a fist. He's wearing a silky turquoise robe as opposed to his usual leathers. Crumpled pieces of paper surround him with a variety of sad doodles on it, and a couple of bits may or may not look like he used it to dry his eyes. Not that he's been crying or anything. ] Yeah. [ He holds out his hand. ] Yeah, I guess I could use some chips. What did you, uh, what'd you bring out there? What is that thing?

[ He means the bus. ]

[ jerry pascal loves a plantonic snuggle. if he didn't think jack would stab him for it, that cute little fucker would get squeezed like a dive bar lime on the daily. he and ed here did have some dalliances, but like he's been with all other folks he dallianced with in the 800 year long shroom trip, jerry carries on like it's just another step towards broship. yes, we've touched butts. that means we're friend stage 3 now, right? there's some people he collected in the future he's hellbent on maintaining said broship with. edward, for example, who is a freaking pirate, and an artist, and while not actually betentacled irl, still pretty fucking rad.

but currently, pretty fucking sad.

jerry picks at one of the crumbled papers, examines the tragic doodle, and nods, taking it in. he's hanging in there with the art therapy groove, good for him. passing his teary buddy the chips, jerry takes in the state of the blanket fort. seems serious, whatever's eating away at his friend. he may not have rosa's emotional intelligence or people-comforting know-how, but he's damn good at Just Being There. leaving him alone to doodle in this very cool depression tent just seems cruel. ]

You know what perfectly compliments those chips? Nail painting. I've got Caliente Red and Amethyst Cloud.

[ dragged out of a pocket he maybe didn't have a second ago (it's the horizon, he has whatever he imagines he has), jerry holds up the little polish bottles, giving them a shake, before cluing into the that ed's apprehensive of. ]

Oh, that? That's my bus room. It's where I keep all my cool shit. [ nearly everything he owns that isn't buried in the Jerry Box (formerly lost and found) under the gas station counter. ] Want a tour? I bet it'll cheer you up.

[ Don't worry, Jerry, he's about to be tentacled in actual life soon enough. For the moment, though, that ability's not surfaced yet, which is for the best. Ed's got a lot to worry about as it is without his...appendages misbehaving.

Ed pops his head up, a sign that he's at least being coaxed out from his misery fort. He's got the smudged eyeliner look of a man who was crying in the club. The bag crinkles tentatively when he takes it. Were chips invented in the 1700s? Was peanut butter? Doesn't matter, Ed doesn't seem to have any questions about chips or the bag they come in. ]

Wee John liked to colour his nails. [ Ed does not explain who Wee John is or the fact that he wasn't all that wee, actually. He accepts Amethyst Cloud (purple's his colour), but before he can give it a good look, he's distracted by Jerry's introduction to The Bus Room. If there's anything that'll cheer Ed up, it's the thought of seeing something he's never seen before. The weirder, the better. ]

Yeah, alright. [ He gathers up his comfy robe and gets up. ] Show me your cool shit, man.

Hold that Amethyst Cloud thought.

[ jerry pockets the polish and makes a note of which one they'll be circling back to eventually. first things first - cool shit show and tell. bounding out of the blanket fort, jerry yanks on ed's hand to tug him along behind.

when they approach the obnoxiously painted bus, jerry taps at a dial next to the door. ]

We've got 3 options: the bus room, the workshop, or plant paradise. [ turning the door handle, the bus clicks and bounces and makes a mechanical whirling sound. one might imagine the insides shifting between one room and the next. the horizon is pretty rad, and jerry is a big miyazaki nerd. ] We never go to the black room. Therein lies horrors beyond mankind's comprehension.

[ 'jerry, why would you even create that room?' you ask. because the horrors cannot be contained, they are coming for us all.

anywho, which room you wanna see first? ]

Edited 2024-06-15 06:01 (UTC)

[ The "bus" looks like somebody ate several bottles of Jerry's nail polishes and threw up on it. It's absolutely hideous. It's so hideous it's actually rather fantastic.

Oooh, a mystery dial. Well, not so mystery when you know what each setting does. Ed rubs his hands together, peering intently at the dial while he contemplates the choices and the forbidden Black Room of incomprehensible horrors. He gets it. He also has a black room permanently somewhere in his head.

It's alright. That's why they do things like go on sea adventures and write plays they force mortals to watch. ]

Um— [ Tough choices here. ] Well, not a big fan of nature, so...the bus room.

[ Is what Ed finally settles on, if only because he can't begin to guess what's in the bus room and that makes it appealing. He's all in for a surprise. ]

[ CLOSED ] she twins her spines up slowly

nanaue.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

horizon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject