View source for Log:Mermaid and Otter

{{ Log
| cast = [[Esther Swift|Etsy]] and [[Reggie Danger|Reggie]]
| summary = An otter meets an otter and a mermaid. They eat crayfish.
| gamedate = 2017.08.18
| gamedatename = 
| subtitle = 
| location =
| categories = Changeling, Spring
| log = 
What's a mermaid to do when she can't go into the Hedge because of some 'murderous cybernetic briarwolves' or something, and everyone seems to be going crazy, and half her motley is AWOL?

If you answered 'go swimming', you'd be correct.

She has set up camp far enough downstream from the falls that the water runs quick and clear, where there's a wide clearing, and is swimming by where her tent's been pitched. Her clothes, including her Courier Sash, are folded up on a stump near the tent itself, and her otter is swimming with her. She's given a little bit of all of her food to the water, and so doesn't need to come up at all. When life doesn't make sense, return to the water.


As it happens, this river is occupied already by another otter. Said otter is diving down into the river's waters, plucking crayfish from under the stones, and then popping back up to raft on its back and tear into the little delicacies. This has the consequence of having him drift on the currents evermore downstream, spinning slowly in the eddies at the slow edge of the currents. Consequently, the creature drifts into view around the bend of the river, swirling closer towards the mermaid and the other otter. Is it her, or did the newcomer just wave with one of its adorable little paws.


The mrbl isn't exactly like any other otter: it's grey-blue, with feathery antennae floating up off of its brows; it surfaces curiously before Etsy does, and makes a subtle squeaking noise in the back of its throat. Etsy comes up a minute later, as the otter drifts into view, into her favorite swimming hole, and bites into a mussel shell, sucking out the interior before spitting out the shell. The paw that comes up and waves at her is answered with a puzzled wave back from the mermaid. There ''are'' otters in this area, but not usually this far inland. Also the otter waved at her. Her dark hair splays out across the water, lilies blooming, her Spring Mantle crawling across the water's surface.


The otter's eyes stick with Etsy as he continues to spin on the surface, which makes his adorable fuzzy head rotate about in a ridiculous manner. The otter chitters and squacks, then kicks at the water to send it drifting in the direction of the mermaid and the mrbl. <<Cheerio! Fancy meeting a fairest in the forest, wot! Who might you be?>> It focuses on her face intently, brown eyes guileless and blinking adorably. Once it drifts near enough, he offers out the tail of his most recent crawfish. <<Crayfish? Like litte lobsters, you know.>>


The mrbl's eyebrows go up, the antennae fluttering in the air as it idly paddles over toward the new otter. <<She can't understand you, and once she starts talking, you won't be able to understand her, probably,>> the mrbl explains. <<She doesn't speak otter. That's what I'm for. She barely speaks ''English,'' for that matter.>> 

While the mrbl paddles over toward the other otter? Etsy stares, blinking a few times. Her sea-change eyes are solid, with no iris or pupil; they're currently sea-green and flicker with golden flecks like tiny gold minnows swimming through her eyes. The tail of the proffered crayfish is taken, and she bites the wriggling thing in half, chewing it contentedly. They eat the same food, clearly. "Is a thanking of you, unusually-present otter giving mes crayfish with unusual brightness of Springs around otters."


<<Well, no one's perfect, eh?>> The otter's staring implies this assessment is a technicality only. Yes. One more kick of the feets, he drifts closer to her again, slowing down when the current begins to pull him back downriver. He gives her a little thumbs up sign when she sorts out his mantle all by herself. Clever girl. <<It's Reginald, actually. Reggie to my friends. But you can call me anytime.>> Otters should not give funfingers, but this one does. And a cheesy sort of otter smile, complete with a glinting canine tooth that literally goes *ting*.


Mrbl flips over onto its back, rolling absently back and forth in the current. "He says you're not perfect, but his name is Reginald, his friends call him Reggie, and then he executed some sort of lame pickup line about when you can call him." The mrbl is not a good wingman. Or maybe she's actually ''Etsy's'' wingman. <<She's been hurt too many times. I will find you when you sleep and bite your nuts off if you become the next in a long line of losers who make her cry.>> 

Etsy looks back and forth between the two otters, and then raises her fingers out of the water, pushing herself up with a flick of her tail, and returns the gesture. Gunfingers back. "Well, is better than no pickup lines, guessing. And pickup lines with food offerings is favoritest kind. Hello, Reggie who is also Reginalds."


<<You see, my good man? Not even our language barrier can impede my ridiculously overpowering personality and natural charisma. And you needn't worry yourself! I'm a consummate gentleman.>> Emphasis on consummate? Badoomtiss. Still, the language barrier meeting the other language barrier is about six too much barrier. So in a wink of impossibility, Etsy is sharing the river with a man-otter. Still an otter. Very obviously an otter, the poor guy. But man-sized. The wave resumes, all finger wiggly from the ends of his stunted arms. "It was much smoother in the original otter, I must confess. Loses something in translation. Hello. Reggie. Please. Have I happened upon a hedge door or similar? I can't imagine why else you would be camping this far from civilization."


If the mrbl had eyes that could roll properly, they would roll right out of its little otter head. <<No, I will always worry myself over her.>> Hedgebeasts are like that about their Lost protectors, usually, after all. Even if the mrbl makes fun of her, that's its ability to do, and no one else gets to do so.

And then suddenly there's a man-otter in the water with the mermaid, and she absently kicks her tail in the water.

Casually, the mrbl flicks its little back feet and closes the difference between Etsy and Reggie, sticks out its little blue-grey paw, and pushes Etsy's jaw closed.. Then pats her cheek once, twice.

"Am... imagining that it was," admits Etsy, and then she slowly shakes her head, flipping her tail and rolling onto her back. This is how she usually hangs out in the water, which is probably at least partially because she lives with an otter. "Am an Esther Swift, but is called an Etsy." She looks off toward where her tent is. "No, is a Sacred Couriers. Used to camping in wilderness. Have a mirrors to walk back to the cities with if needs to. Is from a Fate's Harvest and not a knowings?"


"I followed you right up to that last bit, my dear. Esther Swift is a perfectly lovely name. Reginald H S Danger. Reggie Danger. I know what you're thinking-- shouldn't Danger be your middle name? And my reply would be 'The H S stands for Hopeless Situation'. Which is like Danger. But moreso." Reggie lifts a hand to gesture a marquee in the air. "Super dangerous, hopeless situation." Then he sighs, "Needs some work." A confession. But he recovers quickly. "In any case. The last bit. Who is from a Fate's Harvest and what isn't a knowings?"


====-> >> Reggie to Here << <-================================================
 Rolled 1 Success 
 < 1 2 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 >
==================-> >> Presence + Expression.Showmanship No Flags << <-====



She floats in the water, her hair splaying out, lilies spreading over the surface. Tiny little white flowers, long sprawing vines, and little lily leaves surrounding her. She looks like some sort of Romantic painting of Ophelia, except she's still alive. There are subtle patterns of scales on the white skin of her legs, interrupted by long, curving, old scars. Claws, perhaps, or whip lashes. Her feet flare out into fins, delicate and mottled green and blue, like an ornamental koi. "Reginald Hopeless Situation Danger?" She recites carefully, forming her mouth around each one of the words thoughtfully. "Are you from a Fate's Harvest, and I am not having a knowings of you? If not knowing a Fate's Harvest is a freeholds local, then answer is a nos."


"Ah!" Reggie comprehends now. He answers her stretching out by following suit, rolling over onto his back and bobbing upwards quite easily in the water. His fur is fine and full body. And, much like an actual otter's, it seems to be helping to keep him afloat. Rafting comes naturally, so he bobs on over, otherwise happy to slowly swirl in the river's currents again. "No, no, no. I just floated in on my Airship Adventure upon which is parked my Amazing Dangerbug. You see, I'm an aerobatic aviator. Stunt pilot! I do airshows and so on. Stunt flying for movies, on occasion. The Daring Reggie Danger. That's what they call me. When they call me. To fly things. Fast. Low to the ground." There's another pause. "Anyway. No idea if I even like it here enough to bother learning people's names apart from yours. And since yours is the only name I want to remember right now, I'm going to assume they're all named Phillip or Gertrude, and plan accordingly."


And now it's rather natural for Esther to reach her hand out to take Reggie's, because that's how you raft. The mrbl clears its little throat and ''tries'' to get in between them like a proper chaperone, but that doesn't happen in time. So, irritatedly, it circles around to the other side of Reggie, takes his ''other'' hand, and flashes its sharp little otter teeth. Then gives Reggie a ''look'' accompanies by little fingers pointing at its eyes, and then at him. 

"Airship Adventures?" Esther's eyebrows arch up a little bit, and she listens. "Is an interesting. Is a Sacred Couriers, so getting places in interesting ways is a usuals. But do not have a planes or an airships. Only a cars and doing a disappears. Sometimes am smuggle a person out of a jails or into a places wants to be, if is the jobs." Etsy clears her throat, and then she laughs. Her siren's song of a voice makes everything she says sound like she's singing sailors in to shore, but her laughter? It's actually musical. She laughs in arpeggios. "Do not knowing any Phillip or any Gertrude. Do know many peoples here with other names, though. Is an interestings small town. No oceans, though. So far from oceans, have to ''drive'' so far."


}}