sirenspull_logs | Craving Music

Entry tags:

Craving Music

Who: Dean Winchester & Syrena
When: May 15th.
Where:The docks.
Summary: You haven't lived until you've heard Zeppelin.
Warning: Tsundere mermaid? Other than that none.

Perhaps, Syrena thought, this morning would be an interesting and entertaining one. Many people had sung and played music for her, soothing her initial displeasure as she'd combed her hair off shore on one of her favourite rocks. A man had promised her music, and although she did not know his name, the desire to hear this 'Zepplin' was enough to have her agree to have him meet her. He did not seem dangerous or harmful. If he was, well...she'd just do what she had to unruly fishermen that had tried to catch her in their nets just before dusk.

Nothing quite tasted like human flesh did. It certainly was a delicacy like no other.

Syrena already had had her fill of fish thus far, nor would she attack or eat someone who wasn't really asking for it. Thus she was in a decent mood as she swam her way over to where the docks were, waiting off to the side, just below the murky surface to wait for Dean to show up. She'd spot or hear him before he'd see her, surely.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Good girl," Dean seems pretty elated even with holding back a lot of it due to treading carefully. He pulls the headphones completely off her head and sets the tape player next to him on the dock.

"I'll see what I can do about gettin' you one of these and a Zep tape that's water proof. If you behave."

He almost starts in on something else when he's cut off by her question. "Dean Winchester. Didn't realize I forgot the introductions." He holds out a hand to shake it, which might just be an attempt to see some boob.

It takes her a moment to comprehend why, exactly, he's holding out his hand. She doesn't get it. But it clicks and it shows as she cautiously extends damp fingers to take Dean's hand lightly. That's what he wanted, right? For her to take his hand in hers? What a strange custom.

Clearly mermaids don't do handshakes. She doesn't move her hand, staring strangely at the pair. What was she supposed to do now? She's really not sure. If Dean's lucky, he might see some of her chest, at least what hasn't been covered with her long, dark hair.

"My name is Syrena."

Dean sees the confusion pretty clear and with an amused quirk of his lips shakes her hand before letting it go. He saw enough, and holding her hand there like a third grader trying to get a kiss from Rebecca Robinson made him feel awkward.

"Okay, Serena, I better head off," he uses the heels of his boots to get to his feet. "But this was nice and I'll be in touch about gettin' you your own head set."

Hand shook she's given free reign of it once he lets go, letting her fingers curl around the edge of the dock. The smile that was on her lips ever so briefly? Any sign of it has washed away, leaving a more somber expression in its place. It had been awhile since she'd had visitors, especially when those few who would come spend time with her had more or less left the island.

"You are leaving?"

She can't even hide it. She's disappointed.

Dean turns around, raising an eyebrow in her direction and at the pout she's wearing. That's new. Didn't he just threatened to end her if she put a fin out of line?

"Uh, yeah," he cocks his head, looking at the rest of her hanging off the pier. "Brought the music, after I figured you'd want me gone."

She doesn't say anything for a moment, she simply shakes her head.

"I do not have many visitors or people to speak with any longer."

They'd all left, you see, not because she ate them - don't even consider it - but because the Core had made them disappear. She won't use the word lonely, but that's what she is essentially, living on the cusp of a foreign society to her own, separated by the shoreline.

Every social animal craves interaction on some level - mermaids are no different.

Dean walks back over and pops a squat the same place he did before. He looks a little confused, not sure why she'd want to spend her time with him and for a second almost thought it was a trick if it wasn't for the look on her face.

"Are you stuck beach side?" He has to ask. He doesn't know much about the lore on mermaids.

"If you are asking if I must remain in the sea, then yes." She began, settling herself as she hung off the dock. "Technically, if I am on land, my tail will turn into a pair of legs, but they are useless. I cannot walk."

She never learned and never had to for that matter. Why on earth would a mermaid go on land willingly?

"I cannot say my experiences on land have been pleasant either."

She couldn't walk. He's suddenly reminded of Bobby and the fact that he's in a wheel chair. Guilt hits him like a brick.

"What if ... someone y'know, carried you?" He has to ask. Not that he was offering but there had to be someway to get her on land and if there was a public pool around she might be able to make more friends. Of course that came with the downside of freaking a lot of people out.

She shakes her head then, quickly this time.

"I was carried before. I do not like it. It is embarrassing and uncomfortable." Syrena has her pride, after all. All mermaids are prideful creatures. Having to be carried around is, well...a bit degrading.

"The sea is where I belong. Human cities, the noisy things that move very fast and living places are all strange and unappealing. The only thing that I enjoyed once was a shower."

Dean looks like he understands completely what she means by that. His first thought is Bobby who was stuck in a wheel chair becuase of him and the guilt washes over him like the waves he's watching. "I was thinkin' a pool might do the trick," he stops for a moment and makes eye contact with her again. "But I understand not wantin' to be toted around like some chick's dog."

He didn't want to make her uncomfortable. No one liked feeling helpless. Not even monsters. He'd never admit that he knew that, they deserved it half the time.

Dean finally drops his feet off the edge of the deck and pulls his flask out of his jacket to take a swig. He offers some to her after licking the remains of Wild Turkey off his lips.

"S'gotta suck though. Bein' a world away from everyone. The Core seems t'like makin' a lot of us suffer, but this takes the cake." He hated The Core for bringing a bunch of hell spawn from home here and because he couldn't follow it. He hated unpredictability and that was all he got here.

"A pool? No. A pool, as it was explained to me, is like a very large bathtub. I was kept in a bathtub for days here during a storm by Jack Sparrow. I do not want to feel trapped like that ever again. He has left, however, that pirate. All for the better."

It was only one step up from the glass coffin, after all.

When the flask was offered to her she took it carefully in her damp fingers, but didn't drink from it yet. She simply stared curiously as she spoke.

"It is rather trying being away from the waters I truly belong in and away from my sisters. I would not call them caring or friendly, not most of them at least, but they are of my kind. Aside from them, there is only one other whom I would truly wish to see again, more so than my sisters..."

But she's getting carried away in wistful memories. With a blink she remembers the flask in her hand. "What is inside?"

"They get at least nine feet deep, and they can fit forty or fifty people in at a time. Don't know about them bein' like a tub, but I guess t'you they'd be damn near the same thing. Why couldn't you just stay out here durin' the storm?" He has to ask. Was the weather bad enough that she had to be moved and why couldn't she just wait it out under water? He's learning as he goes. Who better to learn about mermaids than from one.

"Yeah, but the way you said it your sisters aren't like you. Men are five course meals."

Dean rotates his neck on his shoulders, there's a pop. It's clear he's carrying a lot of tension lately but it isn't because of things like her. It has more to do with his family.

"Bourbon," he answers her straight. "Goes down rough but when it hits it's like bein' on cloud nine."

"I was perfectly fine. It was cold and icy above water, but below it was alright. But Jack Sparrow decided that I would die in the cold and if I died he would not get his ship. So he kidnapped me again from the water, only this time he put me in his bathtub instead of a glass box like him and the other pirates had back home. I would have died in that box if Philip had not saved me."

Bad memories, although recalling Philip is always a mixture of fondness and yearning.

"You are right, I am not like them. They enjoy the thrill of the hunt. I much rather comb my hair. Of course it is necessary for defense and reproduction, but other than that? I do not particularly care for it. Fish are far easier to catch anyway and it is not like many sailors dare to venture to Whitecap Bay in the first place."

Focusing back on the flask she held it up to her nose to sniff at it. It smelled strong, but it obviously wasn't poisonous. She took a sip, cautiously, before making a face of disgust, holding the flask out as far away from her mouth as her arm could stretch.

"I do not like it."

"Sounds like a real winner," Dean looks pretty amused at the idea of some guy plucking her out of the water and shoving her into a tub before hauling it away. "What'd he think he could sail off into the sunset and this place wouldn't kill him?"

Dean listens carefully as she talks about her sisters. Eating fish and combing hair beats the hell out of attacking whoever has the bad sense to stop by for a swim.

He pulls the flask back and takes another pull from it before shoving it away, he feels bad but the dramatic reaction was so damn funny he can't help but laugh. "Don't really have anything t'get the taste out of your mouth. Uh... except," there's a half eaten pack of M&Ms in his pocket. He pulls those out. "This should do the trick." He holds those out.

Edited 2012-05-18 08:59 (UTC)

"He did think that, yes. He was absolutely mad. An insane pirate. I cannot believe that I returned the chalices needed to drink from the fountain of youth to him. I still do not know what I was thinking."

The package of what appears to be some sort of food takes her attention away from lamenting over the insane captain. With a raised eyebrow she reached in with a hand to pull a few M&Ms out. Only a second to study them passed before she pushed them past her lips and began to chew.

...That was much better.

"Fountain of youth?" He's still stuck on the fact that a pirate was here. He's geeking out all over again. It makes sense but then he realizes mermaids could be extinct back home if the timelines are anything to go off of. If they did exist. "So now that's real too. Gotta say I've met a few people from different places but where you're from is definitely the coolest."

"Keep the rest of the bag," it was a king size and he'd been carrying it around for a while now. Mostly Ben just stole out of it when he wasn't looking. He wasn't too big on sweets. He preferred real food to what he could pick up at a gas station after living off pump stop food for so long.

She nods, shoving a few more of the treats into her mouth, grateful for being allowed to keep it. They taste amazing. Sweet things are hard to come by in the ocean, after all.

"Yes. The Fountain of Youth. It is real, although it does not work in ways one would think it would."

"Next time I'll bring you pie," nothing beat pie in Dean's mind. If he could function on a steady diet of it he would but he needed to keep healthy for the monsters here and the rest of the crap he had to deal with.

"Okay, you got me," he leans closer to her finally relaxing a little bit. "How's it work?"

Edited 2012-05-18 09:26 (UTC)

"Pie is delicious. Elliot brought me apple pie. It is amazing." Pie was one of those things Syrena would always love. She was certain of it. The texture and taste was simply out of this world. Nothing (so far) had pie beat in her opinion.

"There is a ritual that must be performed." She started a bit quieter, voice almost hushed.It was sensitive information, even if the Fountain of Youth was something Syrena was certain couldn't be found again.

"One needs a mermaid tear, the two silver chalices, a victim and the fountain itself. Both chalices are filled with water from the fountain and the tear goes into one. Whichever person drinks the chalice with the tear inside it, they will be given all the years the other person who has drunk from the chalice without the tear would have had left to live if they had not drunk from the fountain."

"Apple's my personal favorite but there's a hell of a lot more out there. It's my personal goal in life to try 'em all." It was a simple dream but it was one Dean thought he could actually accomplish if he gave it a shot. Not like having a home, family, and white picket fence. That dream died when the apocalypse started. Normal wasn't possible where he and his brother were concerned.

He listens while she explains, shifting a knee up and resting his arm on top of it when his legs start to buzz from dangling. "Isn't it kinda risky tellin' me that your tears have some magic juice in 'em that can steal away life from somebody else."

He doesn't ask her about the rest or her involvement there. It's pretty clear why she mentioned being in a glass coffin. That pirate wanted the secret to a few more years under his belt.

"I would like to try another kind." She sounds almost wistful at the thought. As for the risk in telling him such information...well there wasn't any risk. She shook her head.

"There is no risk. It is useless to try and perform the ritual without the fountain or chalices. Besides..." She gave a little flick with the tip of her tail to splash water up against her back.

"It is almost impossible to make a mermaid cry."

"I'll try t'get back next week and bring you somethin' else," he settles down on the deck and leans back on his hands. "If you're good," he feels the need to say it. She doesn't seem like a threat but anything that openly fesses up to eating men needs to be monitored. Old habits die hard.

"Sounds like the assholes that nabbed you had a few screws loose," Dean sighs and looks up at the horizon. "I know this place ain't exactly paradise but it has to be better than there. You sound like you didn't belong with your, uh, sisters, and with that whole tear thing being a reality..."

Edited 2012-05-25 05:56 (UTC)

Good. It was such a strange concept. Such a broad word to use. What was 'good' anyway? Syrena did not see herself as particularly good or bad, although there were some individuals (like Black Beard) who she would label as bad in an instant.

Even if it's near impossible to make a mermaid cry, it didn't stop Syrena from looking a little forlorn as she shook her head.

"No. Whitecap bay is my home. There is nothing more beautiful to me than that place. The Caribbean water is warm and clean, the fish are plentiful and healthy...this place is nothing like home to me. The only similarity is that I am in water and near a shoreline. This place can never be better than home. These murky waters can never be home to me."

She settled her chin down on her hands then, staring out toward the beginning of the dock where it met with the shore.

"While my sisters may seem particularly cruel to you, they are normal to me. I am the odd one. If it is the thought of men being eaten that unsettles you, perhaps it will ease your mind to know that Whitecap Bay is hard to find and most sailors avoid sailing through our waters for they know better. There are not many opportunities for mermaids to hunt men and usually the first to attack are those who are desperate or have come of age to mate. It is like waving a bloody fish in front of the nose of a shark - irresistible."

But maybe it wasn't the wisest thing to go on about killing men to a man. Especially a hunter.

"I assure you I have far more self restraint. I am not mindless like a shark, nor do I have the desire to reproduce. I would enjoy a pie over a man, certainly."

That's the first time he'd heard of anyone wanting to go home. Maybe it was because his whole family was here and a lot of his friends. A lot of people they'd lost. He couldn't see going back. Not to the apocalypse, not without a way to reconcile things with Sam. How do you tell the brother you never wanted to work with again and that you openly said you didn't trust that you got beamed into the middle of the ocean near Canada. They'd been all over the states but never out of them.

He wouldn't agree to fly on a plane unless it was full of clowns. So they never got anywhere but where they'd always been. There was some comfort in that but the constant road trips and travel died down when things went to shit.

"Maybe you'll get lucky and the Core'll decide to send you back," he doubts it but he figures he should at least try to be reassuring.

He listens halfheartedly about her sisters and the whole mermaid thing and he's pretty interested until she gets into the mating rituals and menstrual cycles and that was really the last thing he needed to hear. It was something Sam would write down in his notes and save for later but Dean was thrown because mermaids were something you fantasized about and to find out that they went dark side when they were horny was the last thing he needed to hear.

Somehow he's grateful that Syrena apparently has no libido. Even if he'll never say it out right, and even though it's a shame because she's pretty hot.

He's quiet for a while. The discomfort written all over his face. How do they even breed? He didn't think Mermen were something that existed outside of bad Disney movies.

"Yeah, uh, glad you're a vegetarian."

this thread. /flops i'm glad we decided to do it.

aaaaaa me too ;u; Syrena needed more CR like this...this is so beautiful fff

it really is. it's beautiful. 8)

;u; so beautiful

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject