longer.blue

His melancholy flooded his perception until it was as soaked through as his socks. A misery so blinding, he should be easily forgiven for not noticing the menacing figure approaching him through the waves. “You. You’re not dead.” Spoken like an accusation, the voice sounded of a woman's as if filtered through a deep chaos, tempered with snarl. So little was he expecting to see another living soul, let alone be spoken to again, that Oliver was ripped from his malaise, swinging his head around to view his guest. “Hm, what?! I…No. I’m not,” was the most intelligent response he could muster. An ocean siren stared him down, her blue grey skin glistened like that of a dolphin stretched taut over a muscled body, wracked with scars. Oliver had certainly never seen any merfolk before, he’d only heard of them. He heard an awful lot of the Royal Navy proudly explaining how they’d rid the profitable trade routes to the Caribbean and Americas of them. Even if that wasn’t propaganda of course, they were in the middle of the Pacific, where no country could even pretend to have any form of authority, so this one's appearance wasn’t as surprising. But why here?