[Flashback] Evolution of a Sunfish (Chevis)

[Citrine Maelstrom]

Timestamp: Early Summer, 501 AV Location: Suvan Sea Tag: Chevis Maelstrom Status: Closed The waters of the Suvan Sea had calmed into a rippled pane of glass, illuminated by fleeting serpents of sunlight reflected in the ebbing tides making their way from the hulls of the Maelstrom flotilla to the half submerged limbs of the focused Citrine. With her hands splayed flat on the surface of the water, she sat quietly watching as a school of tiny fish repeatedly broke the watery plane to nibble at her palms, giggling each time they did. Cyrus rolled onto his back 20 yards off the tips of her toes, his pale belly exposed then disappearing to be replaced by twitching whiskers and bottomless black eyes. The smile that appeared in response to her Tavan was one of unfiltered love, a perfect girlish curl of adoration. With a cock of her head and a tumble of sun-bleached curls she watched every movement of the Sea Lion, making a promise to herself that one day she would be that graceful in the cradle of the sea's waves. The disappearing flip of Cyrus' tail seemed to signal the departure of the nearest Maelstrom Palivar, she watched as the ship began to slip from the group, setting out for open waters. What was revealed when it moved was the familiar sight of the Bongodier. Chevis!! One quick head snap later and her crystal blue eyes were scanning the beach behind her for a glimpse of her older brother. How had she missed his arrival? Citrine's affection for her older brother was a near match for her attachment to Cyrus, endless and unconditional. Of the Maelstrom family, Chevis had always been her champion, keeping one eye on her when it was possible and saving her from trouble, usually brought on by the child herself. Citrine was nothing if not headstrong, having no limits on what she imagined she could accomplish, and Chevis has become her support, for some reason, believing as well that she was unstoppable. With the often invisible help of her half brother, each of Citrine's endeavors was met with some measure of success, in essence, making it possible for her to feel nearly invulnerable, and for this, she adored him. Her girlish perspective imagined that it would always be so, in her fairy tale viewpoint, they would take on the world together. Finally, her search produced a result and she caught sight of Chevis, draped languorously across the sand, deep in captivated conversation with a buxom, scarlet haired woman. The sight of the woman brought a disgusted crinkle to the bridge of Citrine's nose, and she immediately began to visually dissect the physical qualities of the interloper, each observation spurring on focused comparison between the woman and herself. Most noticeable were the woman's breasts, struggling to break from from the bonds of a scant bandeau straining across her chest. Citrine fell back in the water, seized the hem of her shirt and pulled it taunt across her body, staring down at the perfectly flat plane that was her non existent chest. Again her face constricted in no small measure of disgust. Next to attract her eye was the rich fall of red hair; it curled across her bare shoulder like licking flames of fire. Citrine had always loved red hair, so the sight of it just made her envious as she threaded childish fingers through her own tangle of pale gold. She was about to continue when Chevis glanced in the direction of the water, a coy smile on his face as the woman leaned to whisper in his ear. Citrine flattened with a quiet splash into the water, trying to make herself invisible as she crept toward deeper water on the tips of her toes and fingers like a stealthy crab, her body stiff and straight as a plank. Once she had fully submerged beneath the surface of the sea, she began to propel herself with a flurry of jealous, little girl kicks, eager to put some distance between herself and the shoreline. She never understood what he saw in those lumpy, honey voiced women. Her kicks slowed, becoming longer and more graceful, smoothing her movement through the water even though the hands balled into little fists at her sides acted as a drag on her progress. Cyrus swam up beside her and she looped an arm around his neck as he dove deep. The practice was second nature, having been towed to the sandy bottom more times than she could remember or count. When her fingers drove into the fine grains of sand, She released her hold on Cyrus and began pushing the air from her lungs, lowering her body to sit in a crossed legged huff on the floor of the sea. As she sat there motionless, her hair fanned out around her like a wild sunburst, hanging in the water as tiny fish approached it to investigate, thinking it was some kind of delicious snack. In that state she remained, longer than most would, her arms crossed over her chest and a pouting scowl twisting her little face. The Sea lion circled, nudging her periodically to try and bring her to the surface, but there she remained until her chest began to ache from lack of breath. The seven year old body unfolded from seated into a crouch, and she pushed off with pointed toes, shooting herself toward the surface. A blonde missile cutting through the water toward the fresh air. As she gasped to pull air back into her body, she considered that she might have stayed too long under water, but on second thought.. if she hadn't drowned.. it was just long enough. A glance to the shore offered her a new view of the red head, now reclined on the sand, looking as though she'd trapped two baby seals in her shirt, Chevis leaned over her, his fingertip trailing along her shoulder. Good grief! Citrine twisted in the water and began to swim, her body in a streamlined posture, hands praying in front of her as her body followed in a rippling movement that mirrored Cyrus', all the while, wondering how that woman would ever get below the surface of the water with those things, surely her brother was just trying to find that out. As she swam, she followed the curved hull of the Bongodier until she reached the thick rope that secured the anchor. Circling it as she rose, Citrine followed the rope until her head, to the bridge of her nose, emerged from the water. She looked up the line, and immediately began to shimmy along its slippery length. With the rope wrapped around her ankle, she pushed herself out of the water, alternating a tug of her hands with a re-wrap of the rope around her ankle. Slowly, and with periodic looks to the shore, she moved up the rope until she could climb aboard the Casinor. Citrine padded around the deck looking for a way to stake her claim, after all, Chevis was -her- brother. She stood in the middle of the deck, her body in a concentrated schlump as she clicked her tongue, trying to think of something permanent.. and meaningful..from a seven year old perspective. Days earlier, she'd watched as another Svefra, after having picked the perfect name, had painted it on the outer hull of his boat, but she had no paint...she paced back and forth until she spotted a small dagger. Seizing the hilt in her small hand she looked around for the perfect place and bolted toward her brother's cabin. It was perfect! Before he slept each night.. he would think of her. With her hand outstretched so as not to cut anything, she tumbled onto the bed and began carving her name into the pliable wood. As she carved out the 'c', a twist of wood came to life and separated from its home, curling away from the wall like it had a life of its own. She blew a ribbon of blonde hair from her eyes as she concentrated on the next letter. She couldn't believe how perfect this would be. With a pause, she leaned back looking at her handiwork, it didn't look quite as perfect as she hoped...her head cocked to the side and she had to lean a bit to make the script seem as though it moved along the wall in a straight line.. C - I - T - R Over half way there. She poised the knife point to start again when the boat shifted along with her weight. The point that had been ready to finish her work, instead carved a long jagged underline to her four imperfectly carved letters before driving into the palm of her hand. The scream that emerged came from the pit of her stomach, and lasted until she looked down at the dagger still spiking from the center of her palm. In the absence of common sense, she yanked it out, eliciting yet another guttural scream. With no small amount of blood pouring from her hand, she ran around the cabin, looking for something, anything that could help her, a spray of red ironically painting the letters she'd carved. RUM!!! Her hand swooped across the table and wrapped round the neck and she pulled the cork free with her teeth as she'd seen so many in her family do, with a generous hand, she poured the liquid over the wound, unprepared for the searing pain caused there after. This time she couldn't scream, her mouth silently frozen in a painful wince as her hand burned. She began hopping, bloody hand flinging back and forth as the rum sloshed from the bottle in the other. Badidea Badidea Badidea Badidea She finally looked to the mouth of the bottle and raised it to her lips, tipping the liquid into her throat with the fortitude of a man three times her age. She ignored the burning as the lesser of the two between throat and hand and continued to drink until the rum began to run down the front of her shirt. The clatter of the empty bottle on the floor escaped Citrine's notice as she became fascinated with the world around her, and how all the sharp edges had begun to blur. Her eyes filled with a cottony haze just as her arms and legs lost their feeling. She didn't even feel the proximity of the floor as it snuck up on her, but there it was, underneath a tangle of her legs. Her hair grew heavy, and began to pull her head back until it too lay to the floor. I'll just close my eyes.. The blood and rum got the best of her as her eyes closed. Passing out for her brother to find...

[Chevis Maelstrom]

Chevis was back from a very long and tiring trip. He had been stirring up a lot of trouble near Riverfall while getting a modification done to his Bongodier. He had been spending a lot of time with that Inarta glassblower... Lelia... She had been an amazing help to the modification. And helped keep him company. She was quite enthusiastic about it. For the first time in his young life, he found a woman who could outpace his desires. What he didn't know was that she was being hounded by a particular brutal, albeit young Akalak. When the modifications were done, Chevis prepared to set sail when Lelia ran onto the Bongodier, out of breath and tears streaking down her face. "What's wrong Firebug?" Chevis asked with concern heavy in his voice. "I'm sorry Chey... I used you..." A whoosh filled the air as a large javelin sailed between them and thudded into the deck of the Bongodier. He turned and saw a dark emerald green Akalak, taller and bulkier than him standing on the beach. "That woman belongs to me beach scum. She will carry my legacy. Give her to me before you spoil her or you will perish beneath my feet." The warrior had his Lakan in hand, his chest bare, his muscles tense. Chevis drew his fan, but kept it in it's hard wooden casing, a string of colored beads hanging from the end. He told Lelia to stay on the Bongodier. He leapt over the side of the casinor into the shallows. As he neared the Akalak, he could see a group of Akalak looking down at the beach from a nearby cliff. If he killed this Akalak, he would be hunted down unless he got out to sea. But Chevis couldn't let anyone hound any friend of his, no matter how casual or close the friendship is. He stopped two arms length from the Akalak. "You don't want to do this, go home boy." Chevis knew this wouldn't get any results, and didn't help that he was the shorter and younger looking of the two. Chevis could see an inferno raging in his opponent's eyes. Chevis hoped his slight skill and lack of 'combat honor' with his most unusual weapon would be enough to get him through this. To his opponent it appeared he was holding a dark stick, however that blade in his hand wouldn't be able to cut through the incredibly hard and polished wood. Finally, his opponent struck first, what Chevis was waiting for. The man slashed at Chevis, neck high. Chevis leaned backwards out of the biting blade's path and jabbed low into the man's abdomen with the wood. It didn't do any damage, Chevis was just happy their reaches were about the same. The Akalak however stopped the sweeping slash and elbowed Chevis hard in his right cheekbone. The bone held, but his face was throbbing now. Chevis stumbled to the side, luckily missing the bite as the Lakan swiped across again. The Akalak followed through with a kick to Chevis' rightside ribs. Chevis managed to get his elbow in the way, but his eyes grew wide at the sight of the Lakan stabbing toward his face. Time for the reveal. Chevis brought his closed fan up in an arc and flipped it open, the casing smacking the Lakan away. His elbow block quickly turned into a punch that he sent to the Akalak's leftside ribs. A pain shot through his hand and wrist, after all he hadn't thrown a whole lot of punches, especially at something as solid as an Akalak. The two separated, breathing heavy. They both realized the other had more skill than they thought. Chevis stayed crouched, his fan only open with it's paper wing exposed. The pink and forest green waves showed off with flair on the wing. He was keeping the steel bladed wing secret for now. The Akalak seemed amused at the sight of such a flamboyant and weak looking weapon. Chevis needed to finish this quick, for he knew the Akalak would out endure him. Chevis took the initiative and charged in, closing the fan. The two exchanged a fierce series of blows. Chevis with slaps of wood, his fan causing confusion as it snapped open and closed rapidly, the Akalak stabbing and slashing managed a shallow slash across Chevis' pectorals. Chevis jabbed at the Akalak with the closed fan to have it slapped downward by the dark green hand, and the dagger stabbing toward his mouth again. Chevis shifted the course of the fan and slapped the Akalak hard in the groin with the hardwood, as the Lakan sliced through the bottom of his left earlobe. The Akalak exhaled in pain and Chevis took the oppurtunity to slap the Akalak's wrist hard with his fan, forcing him to drop his cherished blade. The two stepped apart, Chevis kicking the Lakan into the surf. The Akalak howled and charged, tackling into Chevis' stomach with his shoulder, knocking the wind from his lungs. The two landed in the low tide, water and sand splashing up. The Akalak pulled back for a bone shattering punch when Chevis grabbed his ear. The punch flew into Chevis' nose hard, a crunch heard, as a rip filled the air. Chevis kneed the Akalak in the groin and tossed away the bloodied ear, and slipped out from beneath him as he howled in pain. The Akalak stumbled upright and moved in with a wild haymaker. Chevis ducked, with a flick of his wrist, unlocked the steel catch on his fan. He whipped open the wing, the paper wing now locked away, and slashed the Akalak across the thighs. It wasn't deep enough to cripple or kill, but would make it hard to stand. Chevis however didn't know about the bond between an Akalak and his Lakan. They always know where it is. And the Akalak, dropped to a knee, the surf stinging his open wound and closed his hand around the submerged blade. As Chevis slashed at the Akalak's chest, the Lakan slashed upwards, powered by the Akalak's legs shooting him to standing. The blade carved a large tract from Chevis' inner right thigh all the way up to his shoulder. Chevis was shell shocked at such a wound. How'd he find his blade? Chevis spun away from the slash dropping to his knees in the spin. His momentum carried him around and he slashed the back of the Akalak's knees with the fan's biting edge. Chevis fell into the surf as the Akalak fell towards him, pain on his face, Lakan ready for the killing blow. Chevis snapped his fan shut and knocked the Lakan a few inches off course, then snapped it open again. The Lakan buried into the sand a hair from his neck. The fan however was colored crimson, as it had sunk into the Akalak's neck. The warrior gargled on his blood and Chevis pushed him off to the side. He could hear screams of outrage from the cliff and he struggled in immense pain to get up. He stumbled into the water, ignoring the pain from the salt entering the wound. He pulled himself onto the Bongodier, and found Lelia had the ship prepped to go. She took off into the surf, as Chevis flopped onto the deck, in a stupor of pain and weariness. Lelia nursed him back to health over the next season as they traveled back to the Suvan. The muscles weren't severely damaged and would heal but the scar would forever remain. Lelia would be leaving to return to her mountain home after they arrived back with the Maelstrom pod. She didn't tell him why she used him, nor did he ask. But she now carried his child, secretly, within her. She had insured their time together resulted in a child that wouldn't kill her like an Akalak's likely would. She wanted to raise her child back in her home, but couldn't tear Chevis from his life, so he never learned of it's existence. They arrived back at the pod and prepared their departure, sitting on a beach, when he saw a splash of gold out in the water from the corner of his eye. He smiled. There was only one golden hair individual who could always seem to smell his arrival. Citrine. He smiled. The little girl adored him and he cherished her presence. He was there when she joined this world from her mother, and had taken care of her, watching over her youthful exploits. He watched as she spied on them, then in a youthful, girly huff she sat beneath the surface, pouting no doubt. He chuckled and said his final goodbye to Lelia. He knew Citrine would likely do something to get his attention, she thrived on it after all. And for some reason, she never liked any women he showed an interest in, or showed him interest. He saw the darkened shadow of her form swim around the Bongodier. He saw his boat shift slightly in an unnatural manner, meaning someone was aboard her. He dove into the water and began powering toward his ship to see what shenanigan the blonde girl got herself into now. He climbed up his anchor line and hopped onto the deck. He walked as softly as he could, only stepping when the boat rocked in the surf. As he entered his hold, he saw quite a mess. Blood and rum was everywhere and Citrine passed out in a pool of the mixed liquids. The blood was leaking from her hand, Chevis found the offending knife and tossed it back out on deck. He got on his knees next to her, tilting her torso up with one arm, lifting her injured hand with the other. [b]"What have you gotten yourself into now?" He tore a strip from the bottom of his shirt and tied it around her hand poorly. He dried her off with a rag and put her in his hammock. "What am I going to do with you...?" He stood to get up when he saw her carving in the wood above his sleeping area. He walked back out and grabbed his knife and finished it up. C - I - T - R + C - H - E - V Now he just had to wait for her to wake up. She would surely be excited to see him, and him her. He sat down next to the thick pane of glass that made up the new tank. Tiana could be seen swimming inside the tank as the unusual jellyfish cast strange glows around the cabin, their illumination silhouetting him prominently.

[Citrine Maelstrom]

The thing that woke her, was not the gentle ministering of her half brother as he once more took it upon himself to care for her, but the change in daylight. Odd that the passage from day to night, the time that most normal people would sleep, caused the recovering drunkard that was Citrine, to stir. Perhaps it was the slice of moon that seemed to shine its light directly in her eyes, punishing her for her earlier antics. The little blonde's eyes had never in her life been this slow to open, she blamed the rum, rightly so to some extent, disregarding the notion that she should claim any of the blame for herself. In addition to her hesitant eyes, it seemed that her usually wispy blonde hair now held the weight of the world, and she could feel every connection to her skull. Again, she assumed the rum was to blame. There were things about her situation of which she held no memory...How did I get in this hammock? The last she recalled, the floor was her closest companion. My hand! She looked down at the newly wrapped wound. There could only be one person...Chevis! The movement to sit up and look for him was greeted with the swinging of the hammock in one direction while the instantly queasy contents of her stomach seemed to move in the other sounding a sickening groan of rebellion until she lay back down. Rum is evil... She did not move again, letting only her eyes survey the room as her stomach continued to yell at her. There he sat, leaned against...something new...a house for Tiana. Chevis was sound asleep, head lolled to his chest as he waited for her to wake. She was so happy to see him she wanted to lurch from the hammock and tackle him, but her stomach was having none of that..none at all. After lying there for a few endless moments, she finally made the decision to move, so very gingerly, she gripped the side of the hammock and started to push herself up. It was then, that she saw the addition to her carving... C - I - T - R + C - H - E - V Stomach be damned, she launched off the hammock like a little monkey and tumbled into Chevis' sleeping form, hugging him with all the strength she possessed. Her head rested in the crook of his neck letting her golden locks tumble across his shoulder and down his back like a shawl; it was then her attention was drawn to the tip of the raised scar that marred his shoulder. With her hands resting on his shoulders, she pushed back, giving him a scolding look as she might have if he were the child. "What happened here?" She cocked her head to one side, following the path of the scar until her blue eyes grew wide. She jumped off his lap to see exactly how much of his body the scar traversed. Sadly, that movement was the lynch pin for her stomach, it had suffered the launch from the hammock as well as the tumble into her brother's arms, but it would abide no more. Without any kind of warning, an entire bottle of rum bubbled frothy from her stomach with the force of a volcano, covering Chevis from head to toe. Mortified, she slapped a hand across her lips and bolted for the deck, nearly performing a solid face plant as she slipped in her retreat. More embarrassed than she had ever been, when she reached the deck she dove into the water. Never thinking, and with no hesitation, her body cut through the water like the sharpest blade and in spite of her condition, she carved under the surface as though she'd been born there. When the distance between the Bongodier and her equaled the span of the ship to shore she slowed, only her eyes breaking the surface. With a gentle grace that never disturbed the surface, her limbs moved in tandem, holding her stalled in place, hovering weightless in the water. Her crystalline eyes waited for any movement, focusing on the deck. The sickness in her stomach that had been caused by her overindulgence had now been replaced by the crushing sickness of humiliation. I threw up on Chevis. He would hate her for certain, she was sure of it, dreading the moment he would appear on deck, and even more the possibility that he would just let her leave and be free of her. A simple flutter of her feet pushed her a little closer, the suspense of the moment eating away at her. Where was he? Flutter. Another small distance closed. To be safe, she drifted lower in the water, only emerging to take a breath, her eyes the only part of her readily visible. Surely he would come to check on her. Flutter. After what had seemed like hours - perhaps two minutes in reality-, a strong kick of her feet, set her body out of the water so she might then dive beneath the surface for a quicker approach. She moved like a continuous ripple through the water, starting with the top of her blonde head and only ending when her toes had completed the motion, her arms were clamped to her sides, offering no resistance as she slipped through the cool blue. Her movement appeared as a long slip of fabric being blown by the wind, effortless and fluid, and it got her to the Bongodier in a flash. When she broke the surface amidst a tangle of clinging blonde ribbons, she looked up at the deck, only to be greeted by Chevis staring back. With no small amount of effort, she swallowed the lump that had manifested in her throat. "Welcome home."

[Chevis Maelstrom]

Chevis was dreaming after having fallen asleep waiting on Citrine. He had pulled himself onto the Bongodier, his blood spilling out, staining her deck. His energy was fading fast as his life drained out of him. He felt the Bongodier lurch forward into the surf as the loud masculine voices neared. He placed his left hand palm down on the deck and tried to lift himself up. His chest seared his mind in pain and he collapsed onto the deck once more. He could hear footsteps nearing his body. Not the heavy, angry footsteps of attackers, but light, caring footsteps of Lelia. "We should be out of ra-" She let out a slight yelp and ducked as a flurry of very precisely aimed javelins shot through the recently vacant space she had just occupied. She hit the deck with her delicate frame, as the spears plunged into the water just off the port side. The boat was following the wind and was beginning to drift toward parallel of the beach. Lelia peered over the side to see the attackers when she saw them preparing another flurry as two were swimming through the surf toward them. She stood up to steer the ship away when Chevis' hand grasped her ankle and pulled her down. She landed face down in his growing pool of blood as he crawled over her. "Down," was all his exhausted form could utter. He pulled himself along the deck, his blood acting as lubricant and helping him along. He could hear splashes from swimming nearing the Bongodier. He knew his attackers would pursue him until it was no longer possible, and returning to Riverfall would likely end in his death. He continued his agonizing crawl toward the aft of his casinor. He made it and pulled himself up by the rudder control. He peered over the edge and determined they were safe from the javelin throws, but the two swimmers were just over the side from him. He turned the rudder hard and slammed the sail to match, forcing the boat into a hard left turn, the rear off the boat smashing into the two Akalak. The two would survive, but the chase was over. Chevis collapsed into the darkness, his body thudding hard into the deck once more. He was then awoken by a flying mass of blonde curls burying themselves into his shoulder. Citrine... He saw the concern in her eyes as she examined his new found scar. She asked him about it and then quickly hopped up to get a better look. Then his world was tossed upside down. First he saw her stomach lurch. His eyes grew wide. Then her head and shoulders tossed forward. Her mouth gaped. Then it spewed all over him, drenching him completely, splashing all over his new tank and the floor of his cabin. Citrine vanished topside and he was left just sitting there in filth. He sputtered out the sour, disgusting mess and stood up. He could smell the rum mixed in, and knew instantly what had happened. He slowly walked topside to see where she had run off to. He saw her before she saw him, as she neared the boat. He decided to mess with her. He turned his back to her, and started swaying like a man dying, or perhaps a drunkard. He then tripped himself over the edge and tumbled head over heels into the water. He landed stomach down with a loud smack, making sure he took a breath first. He then let his body float upward, his back breaking the surface, him not moving. He would wait until she came over then he would spring on her and tickle her like mad.

[Citrine Maelstrom]

Though not intentionally, Citrine's posture withered as she watched the scene unfold from the deck above. Her body dipped low in the water as Chevis' teetering form neared the rail of the Casinor. What was wrong with him...surely he wasn't sick from the - A fade of panic drained the color from her cheeks. First I throw up on him..then I make him sick! "Oh no." She whispered the words with her mouth below water, and rather than the lilting sound of words, what emerged was only a small stream of bubbles, Cyrus looked at her with curious black eyes from a vantage point far beneath her. Pale blue became encircled by white as her eyes went wide and soon the teetering above became a lurching tumble as Chevis toppled ass over head into the water behind her. Before he broke the surface, all blonde hair disappeared into the deep blue and the young Maelstrom watched from a barnacle's perspective, clinging to the hull of the Bongodier. The impact of his stomach on the plane of the water warranted a grimace, and she crept a little further beneath the hull, a small steady stream of bubbles passing her lips. With focused attention, she waited for him to move. Perfectly still save his limbs shifting lazily along with the left over ripples of his entrance. She wanted to call out but knew she would only end with a mouthful of sea water. No movement. She smacked the flat of her hand against her small fist, and within a beat of her heart, Cyrus was by her side, she pointed at the prone figure of Chevis and lifted her chin. The Sea lion cut through the water and nudged his nose gently against her half brother's shoulder. Still he did not move of his own accord. He continued to lie there like dead wood, a plank floating in the sea. She blew out the remainder of her air in a sharp puff and surfaced next to the hull. After filling her lungs once more she dove again and swam toward Chevis. Upon reaching his body she flipped in the water, mirroring his laid out posture from two feet below, She looked up at his face searching for a sign of life as her flattened palms continued to push toward the surface, holding her body static in the water. She was like a small pale shadow of the Chevis plank, hovering weightless below him until her hand darted out and jabbed once at his shoulder. Move Chev! The voice in her head screamed as she prodded him once more with the tip of her finger. When there was still no sign of life, she hovered even closer, still holding herself fast in the water by the movement of her hands, but so close she could look for signs of breath. Her eyes were panicked and wide as she waited for any life in him. With all her little girl strength she thrust herself toward his shoulder with the intention of flipping his face to the sky. She pushed with all her might as the voice in her head tried to create an explanation to her family as to how she killed Chevis.

[Chevis Maelstrom]

Chevis could hear her thrashing about in her confused panic. He would've smiled if it wouldn't have betrayed his trick. He heard Cyrus swim over and nudge him, the seal's head blocking Citrine's view of his right eye. Chevis opened that eye and gave the seal a playful wink, kind of like saying "Play along." He knew the creature would, he was a playful spirit just like Chevis. He then felt her swim beneath him and the water ceased it's movement. Knowing her, she was probably just beneath him, plotting to some how explain his death to everyone. He felt her prod him twice, him not responding. Then she pressed against his shoulder, probably to flip him over. This was his opening. Her face was about an inch from his, her partner swimming near her, waiting for his attack. He then rolled his eyes to the back of his head so only the veiny whites would show. Just as his face breached the surface, he slid open his eyelids. To the little girl, he would appear like some crazed monster from the stories he often told her. His mouth opened and out came a low, moaning, "Ooooooah... You killed him Citrine... He's mine now..." He did his best to make his voice sound inSvefra and creepy. He gave her a few seconds to get truly scared. Then his hands darted to her sides. His fingers began a frantic dance, tickling the little girl. He was relentless in his tickle assault. He saw Cyrus beneath her, his nose and whiskers tickling at her thighs. The pair kept this up for a while. He then stopped and picked the girl up in the water in front of him. He planted a large wet raspberry kiss upon her forehead. He started to say hello to her when he saw a disgusting sight in the water next to them. A bright yellow sunfish was feeding on the stringy liquid and partially digested liquid that had previously covered him from head to toe. He smiled and looked back at Citrine, "Hello Sunfish, can I get a hug, hold the puke?"

[Citrine Maelstrom]

As the weight of Chev's body began to shift under her efforts and flipped, Citrine felt a rush of relief and pushed herself into a position that let her see his face. Relief was eclipsed by wide-eyed terror when she saw what stared back at her, the dead white eyes, followed by the bone chilling voice confirming her worst fears. In a flailing mess of arms and legs she tried to push away from Chev's body, only to be stopped by the impassable body of Cyrus. Citrine snapped her head to see why the sea lion would not budge when the tickling began. It was lucky for her that the skin of slime that had covered Chev's body had shifted when she flipped him, for it would have been a shame to reclaim that which she had relieved herself of with such finesse as she sucked in at least as much sea water as she had expelled rum. Wild laughter mixed in with her sputtering cough as both of her most trusted companions ganged up on her in a relentless game of tickle. In her flailing, the heal of her foot narrowly missed pummeling Chev's most precious tool, accidentally driving into the inside of his thigh with some force. As well, she may have smacked the traitorous Cyrus on the back of his head with the flat of her hand. Without malice...of course. This continued until she couldn't breath, and grasped at both of them just to stay afloat. She'd finally coughed or laughed the water from her lungs when Chevis spoke and she followed the line of his sight to the bright Sunfish. The sight of the delicate little fish sucking in all it could find of the tasty treat she'd provided made her stomach seize and she looked away before a repeat performance. "Sunfish!" She lifted her chin, lips pouting at her brother on the tail end of his request. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her pout from lifting into a smile at seeing his face, safe and sound.. and alive. In the blink of an eye, she latched onto him, wrapping both arms and legs around his chest as though she were a clinging piece of seaweed. She buried her face in his neck and remained as such until he would break. "Sunfish?'

[Gossamer]

. Character: Citrine Maelstrom Experience: Swimming 3 XP, Observation 1 XP, Larceny 1 XP, Carving 1 XP, Medicine 1 XP Lore: Being Jealous, Holding ones breath for long periods of time, Being a Graffiti Artist, Using Rum to Sterilize a Wound, Cutting oneself doing something stupid, Passing out in a larcenous act, Mistakenly thinking she’d murdered her brother. Character: Chevis Maelstrom Experience: Fan 1 XP, Observation 1 XP, Swimming 2 XP, Carving 1 XP, Lore: Trying to prevent a fight, Getting Laid Open Top To Bottom, Possibily Killing an Akalak, Being Puked On By Citrine, Being taken by surprise attacks, Being wounded by a Javelin throw, The Akalaks are after you: Wanted, Playing Opossum Additional Note: Chevis, I’m also putting a bounty on you in Riverfall for stealing a Nakivak (?) and adding this to your SS thread because I imagine people would have come after you for killing the boy or almost killing him. You didn’t stick around to figure out if he was dead or not. .