[OPEN] if you're lost and alone

[relentlesstide]

Characters: Arthur Curry and unsuspecting bystanders YOU
Date: Several
Location: Various
Situation: Open log for the month. PM or plurk me for any specific starters you want. Actionspam or prose welcome equally.
Warnings/Rating: Uh... Nonsexual Atlantean skinny dipping/nudity in A.

A - OPEN
Sometimes Arthur likes to reconnect with the sea. Sometimes a pool full of seawater in a climate-controlled suite just isn't enough, and he wants to slice through the cold ocean waves and feel a little more at home. The water feels perfect today; he doesn't hardly seem to feel the cold as he cuts through the water at speeds more common to quicksilver-fast marine animals than people. A ways out to sea, the foam he kicks up can be seen bubbling to the surface and floating on the waves as it dissolves in his wake. There are very few ways Arthur is comfortable letting off steam, and this is one of them, going back to a simpler time and a simpler him when it was just a man and the open ocean, no responsibilities, no worries, nothing to weigh him down. Like this, he just lets himself be, works his muscles in the drag and flow of the water until he can feel it, until he doesn't feel so cooped up in a fishbowl anymore.

After a long, long swim, a golden head pops up above the waves, and Arthur runs a hand over his hair, squeezing water from it and slicking it back from his forehead at the same time. His arms and shoulders are visibly bare, but that in itself doesn't necessarily mean anything. He's Atlantean, and he doesn't feel the temperatures. His swim back to shore is leisurely, a graceful front crawl until he can emerge from the water, dripping wet and... well, completely bare. He's not bad to look at if you're into that kinda thing, with a tightly muscled swimmer's build, but most people probably don't want to see this side of him.

Unfortunately for those people, he is completely unashamed of his state of undress, making his way a short distance up from the water to where he's left his things, trident stuck prongs-down in the sand, fishing net and pole, a small bag for his catch if he did any fishing, money for a few groceries on his way back home. "Oh for Neptune's sake," he mumbles to himself, toeing the sand with a frown as he searches for something.

It would seem everything is there except his pants.

B - OPEN
Arthur's errands these days generally mean he's accompanied by a massive baby turtle ambling around with him. There isn't much that he needs done, he picks up a few things from the market, he delivers some fish to a couple of restaurants in the Water Sector, he strolls by the canals to check up on the marine creatures that live there. Today he's doing his business on a street in the Water Sector full of various shops, talking to an apothecary at a small outdoor stall about something to do with his two fish companions at home, Verne and Nemo, when suddenly there's a rather large crashing noise behind.

Rio'era the turtle has knocked over - something. A cart? A stall? A person? Arthur doesn't even look, scrunching his eyes closed for a moment before he raises a finger. "I'll pay for that."

C - OPEN
Another evening, the sun starting to sink below the horizon, Arthur finds himself at a small cafe, sitting on the abandoned (due to the chill) outdoor patio at a small table with a drink, watching the sun go down. There's an almost melancholy expression on his face as he swirls the unidentified (this time non-alcoholic) liquid in his glass, and he's obviously thinking about something. The street is mostly quiet at this time of day, and that's probably why he's here, taking a few quiet moments to himself somewhere that isn't his lonely suite, without Rio, who he loves dearly but is also a bit of a handful (let her other parents handle her for a while).

Eventually, he drains the glass and stands up to leave, but he wouldn't be adverse to someone coming by to strike up a conversation.

Comments

[aread]

The words about 'his kind' raise her curiosity, but she elects not to pry. Surely he's not bothered by it, if he talks about it so freely, but has no burning need to know, and sees no point in it besides. He's some manner of creature beyond human, to not only tolerate but revel in these climes, and so long as he offers her no harm she'll ask him nothing more intrusive than she needs.

"By way of England, aye." And if she appreciates the look of him while he hunts around for his clothes, well. She's always had an appreciation for the male form. The shamelessness makes it all the more attractive, confidence that lacks arrogance has always been a pleasant thing in her mind, and rare among the men she calls comrade.

"I don't suppose you know Nassau? On the isle of New Providence?"

[relentlesstide]

Always the politest approach to take, though he doesn't mind talking about his people and his country. He gets asked about Atlantis a lot, after all.

He keeps up a conversational tone as he searches, wading out a bit and calling a little help to find said green, lightly armored pants. "I can't say I do, not off-hand. I've some time in those waters, I think, but I'm not very familiar with the land locations- Hah, there those are." They finally turn up, draped across the back of a helpful fish, and he gives the fish a light pat as he picks them up again.

[aread]

If Mary were less open to the possibility of the oddities of this and other worlds, she'd likely resort to curses and incredulity at that little show of interactive aquatic nature. "Friendly with them, are you?" she asks, with a little nod to the fish as it swims away. There's curbing her curiosity, and there's ignoring the very sort of thing that'd get folk hung for witchcraft and all its sundry accusations.

Still, it's hardly accusatory. Her tone stays light, and she keeps her hands well free of any visible weapons. Edward's borrowed blade is concealed beneath the vambrace on her right arm, but there's a real and present concern that she might not be able to do much in her current state. Recovering from being dead in all but name is a hard sell at the best of times, and she's been slower to it than she'd like.

Suspicion's in her nature, but she's always elected to give most folk the benefit of the doubt so long's they don't call themselves Templar.

[relentlesstide]

"You could say that," he says, slipping into his pants right there, still dripping wet and shameless and unaffected by the cold. Then again, he also has no idea he was prancing around naked in front of a lady. "I'm Atlantean, we're naturally more in touch with the sea life." Not quite as much as him, but... Well. It gets old, trying to explain the whole 'yes I talk to fish' thing. "Half-Atlantean. My father was a lighthouse keeper and a fisherman."

[aread]

Atlantean. That word stirs a sense of curiosity in her, and she tilts her head slightly in consideration. It's an old sailor's tail, right up there with Lemuria and Davy Jones. Those that travel by ocean are a salty and suspicious lot with due cause, but Mary's never been one for it. She sees the world differently.

But Atlantis? There's no cause or course for him to lie, and the words ring true enough to her ears. Doubtless there are those here that could play her for a fool, but she'd hate for this man to be a one of them.

"Is it a matter of separate universes, or a case of it existing hidden across all of them?" She folds her arms over her chest, props her elbow in her hand. "I've found some things to be constant between worlds, and others less-so."

[relentlesstide]

There's a lot more truth to a lot of old sailor tales where Arthur's from. Giant krakens, Atlantis, gods and monsters inhabiting the depths of the sea, there's a bit of truth to it all and so that's how he sees the world. The honesty of it rings true in his voice, he's got no reason to lie about anything; his world is his world, and hers is her own. He knows his own truths.

"It exists in more universes than mine, there's another Atlantean princess here on the turtle even. Whether it exists in yours or not, I can't say - the city sank thousands and thousands of years ago, and Atlantis mostly keeps to itself. I would imagine if you have mermaid tales, though, there's probably some truth to them."

[aread]

That gets a bark of laughter. "Mermaids, aye. Sirens in service to Davy Jones, luring unwitting men to their deaths, as well. Beasts, Kraken, the lot of it. You'd think there's a god for every ocean current, the way some folk talk."

She folds her arms over her chest, more amused now than anything. The wonders she's seen here are unmatched by any tale she's heard from drunken men in their cups, or imagined when she's in her own. Makes a man feel small, insignificant-like, as if the entirety of the world is just a faint veneer over the reality of the thing.

Nothing is true. She smirks. Ah Tabai would appreciate the irony. She gives him a once-over, and then extends a hand. "Name's Kidd. Friends call me Jim. I suspect I'm a little antiquated to your reckoning, but I'm a man of the ocean, same as you."

[relentlesstide]

That makes Arthur smile wryly in amusement. "Not exactly, they don't usually like to go up that close to the surface, and no Atlantean is in service to anyone, except perhaps the king or queen. The ocean is home to all manner of creatures humans only know in stories, though, and the sea gods are real as well where I come from."

Yes, in the ocean he's familiar with, more is true than not out of all the old stories and sailors' tales. When she offers her hand, he shakes it, his grip firm and confident, hand still damp with seawater. Curiously, in this weather, his skin isn't cold to the touch - it's very warm, maybe a couple degrees higher than a regular person. "There are people who would say the same about me. Arthur Curry. It's always a pleasure to meet another person with sea legs."

[aread]

She grins, a roguish expression, the sort that comes into play after a good fight. The nature of the handshake confirms her initial suspicions well enough, she knows a good man when she sees one. "Christ, don't get me started. I'd kill a man straight up - present company excepted, naturally - for a decent ship. The turtle's grand as all that, I'd not say a word against that which keeps us afloat, but ain't nothing quite like the deck of a brig." She's spent nearly two decades now aboard one or the other. Stolen, begged or bartered, funny how for so little time she spent on the Jackdaw, it's the first thing she thinks of.

But something else occurs to her a moment later, and she rolls her shoulders. "I don't suppose you've seen any wrecks, have you? Lost to the depths? The burned out villages at the shell's edge leads me to believe these waters were once rife with piracy, else why would they live only at the centre of this vast beast? Just a theory, of course, but I've no diving bell to explore the depths myself." Nor those to raise it in the aftermath, which could be as sure as death itself.

[relentlesstide]

"Nothing comes close to the sway of a boat, that's true," he says with a wry smile. "I can't say I've seen any wrecks in the area, but if I do, you'll be the first person I tell. I'm not sure if I'd guess piracy, but there are very few places where it doesn't exist." A light shrug accompanies the statement, and he rolls his shoulders a little with the movement.

"There was a man here a while back who wanted to build a vessel, in case something should happen to Asti. Admiral Norrington, I think his name was, but he isn't around any more as far as I can tell. I volunteered to help but I'm not sure what happened with the planning."

[aread]

Admiral. Kidd snorts, a little. The name sounds singularly British, and she doesn't have the highest opinion of British officers, having known and served under several before privateering lured her away from a naval life, and piracy from that one. But the idea's not a terrible one, she'll grant.

"You'd need all sorts of folk to make that work. Not just people to sail it, of which I imagine we've a shortage, but shipwrights and the like. Have you any knowledge of your own on the subject, mate?" Kidd's done repairs, of course. Overseen and participated in. But she's certainly never built one from the ground up. Why bother, when you could just steal the next one you came across, and use it to your own ends? If they could raise an intact hull from the depths, perhaps it'd give them the insights necessary to create one brand-new, but there isn't much in the way of sizable trees upon this small, floating country of theirs.

[relentlesstide]

"Not so much, my father's fishing boat was metal and fiberglass and all we ever did was minor repairs. Once we had to switch out the engine, but I was very young and he didn't let me help much with that." He shrugs lightly. "I mostly volunteered to help with the waterproofing."

He still thinks a ship around here wouldn't be a bad idea, especially with the barrier expanded like this. He could go and explore himself, but he doesn't know everything about everything and more eyes catch more things. "If we could find a wrecked hull, would you know much about patching it up? I still think it's not a terrible idea to have a vessel around besides small boats."

[aread]

"I could, aye. So long as it wasn't too rotted through, or old. Your best bet would be to find one down deep enough, or perhaps something buried in the sediment. It'd preserve it better. And the damage done to cause it to sink would play a part in it, too. If a storm'd rolled one over..." Kidd shrugged. It's a possibility, keen and plain. After a moment, she studies him curiously.

"I don't suppose you've some magic or mystery that lets you bring other people down into your domain? I've never so much been down in a diving bell." Mostly because she's never been among crew enough who knew her secrets, save Rackam's bunch, and like hell she'd have dived half-naked in their company without a resultant brawl or two.

[relentlesstide]

"Believe me, I do know a thing or two about wrecked ships. We scavenge from shipwrecks quite a bit in Atlantis - if the humans' trash is down there, we might as well put some of it to use. If I did find one, it wouldn't be hard to figure out if it'd be salvageable or not." Not so much an expert on building, but he does know a few things about wreckage. He's got a lot of firsthand experience with things like that.

A pause as he glances from him to the ocean, then the trident. "It was more my wife's specialty, really, but with the Trident of Neptune I could give it a try. The water is cold enough that I doubt you'd want to try right now though."