Nineveh (strong_currents) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-05-16 21:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-07-14 |
The joys of parenting cross the lines of species.
Who: Corentin, Nineveh, and Claude
Where: Lake Redfern
When:July 14, morning-ish
The rain had been relentless. It poured. For days. For four days, to be exact... and strangely enough when the opinion came from a creature who lived the majority of her life under water, Nineveh was tired of it. Thank god or whatever powers that be decided that Michigan had been waterlogged long enough, that at some point during the very early morning, the constant thrumming roar of rain slowed to scattered drumbeats under the water.
It was barely daybreak, as Nin could tell by the feel in the water, even before she opened her eyes. A safe cove of branches thanks to a large fallen oak situated right beside a dock provided shelter for her when she slept for the last three nights, deep in Corentin's territory, but of course... she wanted her own space. She could feel him somewhere close. Probably out hunting, given the time of day--a vague sense of comforting familiarity came with that realization, as she peeked out from the forest of algae covered limbs, and disturbed the rocky silt with a mild thrust from tail and fins.
First thing was first: she hadn't seen the sun in days. Cresting the mirror-like surface of the cove, rippling fins at the flare of midnight blue scales drifted the matronly mermaid toward the large boulder she knew to jut out from the shore. Black rock and nearly completely covered in moss, it made a much more preferable place to sun herself than the splintering wood of the dock beside it. Through not too much effort, Nineveh sank black tipped claws into the grooves of the rock, and hoisted herself to lay on it: about a third of her tail and it's fragile looking appendages left to drift in the nearly motionless shore.
Summer was a blessing from the icy cold she and Corentin were born in.. and while drawing the thick, blue/black masses of hair away from her shoulders and spine to splay along the boulder as another form of moss, Nineveh intended to enjoy the peace.
Claude drifted lazily in the water, half asleep as he floated along with the eddy of the current, trying to remember the tune he heard on land. There was something melancholy and catchy about it, something that teased at him, but he couldn't recall the exact melody. With an impatient flip, he twitched his tail and swum more strongly, following the the thin hint of warmth near the surface of the water. The tickle of heat after so many days of northern chill cheered Claude, despite his small frustration, and he splashed above water. The sunlight made his grey scales glitter nearly opalescent, and he twisted himself in and out of the water, admiring the effect before growing bored. Then he dove back under and swam with brisk efficiency toward the dock where his mother was nesting.
He was surprised to see her sunning herself against the bolder but he joined her eagerly. "You've had wet feet before, haven't you?" he asked by way of greeting, pulling himself onto the rock. Unlike his mother, however, he kept his tail above water, and once dried, he assumed his human form. It didn't matter that he was naked: this was an isolated inlet and Cor wasn't around to mock him. It was simply an exercise in independence, of course: to actually converse with his mother, he'd have to return to mer form; but Claude enjoyed stretching his legs and admiring the dark hair furring his skin.
The distant splashing drew Nineveh's mild attention, turned upward from the way she had her cheek against the bluish-sheen of one forearm. Her hair curtained the black gaze, only to be shoo-ed away by the flick of her claw. The instant was perfect: timing impeccable, as she caught the last foot of a nearly transparent tail, the color of an overcast day. Like a string attached from one tip to the other, both her brow and lips twitched upward with the instant realization. The appendage was smaller than the one she knew of the same color. But not by much. In a decade, Claude would probably be his father's length. If not larger.
She arched that brow a little higher with his choice of greeting, but she was no less amused. "Have you?" A retort added in quickly before the inevitable she knew was coming, followed by the common language of gestures she had taught him long ago. Nineveh pushed herself to a lazy sit, and let her hair devour the majority of one shoulder in an ink-like drape. She smiled on her son warmly, but there was a touch of something dark in her eyes. Worry.
Corentin was miles downriver at the moment, nearly in town by now. He'd do his hunting on the way back from Scarlet Oak and bring some fish back for the three of them, though he knew perfectly well that Nineveh was capable of hunting on her own--and Claude was too, of course, even if Corentin still sometimes had trouble wrapping his mind around the notion of his son being a grown man now. It was simply a matter of hospitality, he told himself. If they were staying in his territory as guests, he'd provide the food. It wasn't like the way he'd provided for them when they were all still part of the same pod--even if he'd still do that now, if he could.
What he wanted now was to see just how badly the town had been hit by the demon attacks, if people were returning to normal or if they were still cowering. Maybe the demons in the area were the sort who only attacked humans, and didn't bother with anyone water-dwelling. He didn't want to take the chance. Any demon who would attack a human probably wouldn't think twice about killing a merman--or mermaid--who happened to get in its way.
As he'd feared, the streets seemed nearly deserted, strewn with broken glass and bloodstained metal. But there were a few people wandering around, looking shaken and jumpy but more or less all right, and that was reassuring. As often as he bitched about the human population, he didn't want to leave Scarlet Oak just yet, and he knew Nineveh didn't either.
Curiosity satisfied, he began the trek back home, snapping up a few juicy-looking trout along the way once he'd passed out of the boundaries of the neighboring mermaids' territory. He uprooted a small, crisp patch of watercress, too, just enough for the three of them. They could spend one more day in isolation, letting the town recover a little, and then he'd show Nineveh everything he'd wanted to show her about it. And...maybe he'd show Claude, too. As a peace offering, even if he felt obligated to set more of a proper isolationist example for his child.
"I'm back," he called out, as he reached the spot near where he'd left them. He didn't know where exactly they were at the moment, but he was sure they were somewhere nearby.
Claude enjoyed another moment of sunlight before he dipped his toes into the icy water; and in the milliseconds it took for his body to transform, he slithered fully into the water, wetting his gills with a happy sort-of snort, blowing air out in a glittering spray. "Last night. My feet were wet. No one was out, so I walked around." He gave his mother a rueful grin, looking very much like a young teenager. "It hurts. No wonder they wear shoes--" The echo of his father's voice stopped him and he shouted in return: "Here!", playfully vague. Then he turned back to Ninevah, curious, pulling himself up on the rock next to her. "Have you? Mud was nice, but the pavement--" He stumbled a bit over the modern word, but he was pleased at his increasing vocabulary. "--that scratched."
The brow that had arched only twitched a little higher at his prideful confession. Normally there wasn't a thought between Mother and Son on his venturing on land. He knew her boundaries of comfort. But with the tension and danger that came with what was happening on shore, her expression clearly displayed a sharper point of concern. However, she said nothing. He was obviously alright. No use twisting her gut about something that didn't happen. Instead, a sigh flared both her nostrils and the slitted lines along each side of her throat.
Nineveh simply turned her head in the direction of Corentin's call: the movement twitched the ancient key that dangled from a cheap silver chain that hugged her throat. Rusted brass dangled and danced, catching the sun with each subtle breath. A slightly tense twitch of her tail sprayed her son with a good fan of water--to make sure he stayed in his natural form for at least the first few minutes of greeting his father. "I detest shoes."
"And I detest pants, but you don't hear me complaining." Corentin finally came into view, tossing the fish and kelp unceremoniously onto the rock and remaining in the shallows. He assumed, correctly, that Nineveh was probably the main reason Claude was still in his proper form at the moment, but he appreciated it anyway. Mermish pride aside, he wanted to be able to actually hold a conversation with his son, although that had proven less and less easy over the past few years.
He didn't think he would ever be fully all right with letting Claude wander off on his own, no matter how old the boy was. Claude could live to be four hundred, and as long as Corentin was still breathing, he'd see Claude as the little boy climbing up a fishing net because he'd wanted to play with the strange men on the boats. But when they were face-to-face, and Corentin was forced to note that he and Claude were nearly the same size now, he had to make the effort to converse with his son as an equal.
After a long moment of debating what to say, during which his face remained impassive enough to look unintentionally disapproving, he finally inclined his head towards one of the fish he'd brought. "That's still your favorite, right?" It had been last time they'd discussed the subject, but that had been at some point in the early 1970s.
His father's joke -- whether it was intentional or not -- made Claude smile, and he relaxed a hint -- until his father began to look pained, as if mentally checking off the ways his son had failed him in the last twenty-four hours. Stiffening, Claude shrugged and lifted the fish with both webbed hands, neatly snapping its spine. Then he began eating, fastidious, nipping small bites of flesh before crunching at the bones, his tail gently flicking water on himself at regular intervals.
"Did you go on land?" His voice was hard, touched with a bit of envy. His youth made it nearly impossible for him to manage twelve hours on land without feeling ill while his father could do much longer stretches. That he disliked human society so much felt especially cruel, Claude thought, but he never said it aloud.
Nineveh couldn't stop her light scoff before it escaped, through both sets of breathing conveyances: it wasn't necessarily aimed at any one of them in particular.. just half a chuckle that didn't really make it to fruition. She righted her body straight on the rock, most of the thin wispinous end of her tail lost in the transparency of the water, lilting with the miniscule waves. A piece of watercres picked from the bounty presented, Nin picked at it gingerly, one bite at a time--and with a nondescript look down at Corentin. The sunrise was golden, thanks to the recent storms: gleaming like the inside of a shell on the round of her shoulders, flecked by black hair.
She didn't ask the question yet... if the boardwalk was still destroyed or devoid of humans. If the carnage was still going on... Not in front of Claude. So she just ate quietly, maintaining her usual air of regal loftiness with the equals of her kin... and let the two of them talk.
During their separation, Corentin had remembered most of his interactions with Claude through an idealizing prism, forgetting exactly how they always managed to rub each other the wrong way and more often than not wound up just sitting around in stony silence. Today didn't look like it was going to be much different. Unable to swallow his pride entirely, he twitched his tail with irritation, expression hardening further. At least Claude had asked a civil question, Corentin would give him that.
"No, I didn't. Land can wait until it's safe again. It won't kill you to stay in the water for a few more days." It didn't matter how often he reminded himself that he was going to try and stop being so brusque with Claude; he always managed to forget until it was too late, and then no amount of backpedaling would save the conversation.
"...I don't like it much either, to be honest." It was the truth, though he was pretty sure Claude wouldn't believe him. Corentin had gotten accustomed to venturing into town, and having been unable to do so for over a week was annoying him. Isolating himself voluntarily was one thing, but he didn't like being forced to stay in the lake.
His father's throwaway attempt at seeming mournful only irritated Claude and he cast a glance at his mother, as if appealing to her to reason with Corentin. Still, he couldn't resist asking, voice quiet, bordering on sullen: "And how will we know when it's 'safe again'?" He pushed off the rock and splashed into the water, swimming under the surface and emerging closer to the banks, as if daring his father to stop him. He wasn't really trying to challenge Corentin; he was just impatient and annoyed. But he made himself return to the rock, taking another one of the fishes, arranging his face into a less sulky expression.
"I assume when the humans are not hiding-- or losing body parts..." Nineveh finally chimed in, her sentence punctuated by another bite of the sea-vegetation. The tone in her voice was not condescending or rude... but it was harboring a still unspoken order. Her eyes followed Claude as he inched closer toward the land... the only indication of a change in her expression was the subtle twitch upward of one brow. It lowered when he returned to the vicinity of the rock, and she took another bite of the morning meal.
Nineveh looked at her son's father then: a minuscule cant of her head and the slightest press of her lips was all the expression he got before her gaze slid boredly to the food in her claws. "Why don't you tell him about Scarlet Oak..." A little picking pinched a half-developed bloom from the stalk, and it moved toward her lips... which were curled in a subtle, encouraging smile. "...like you told me."
Claude lifted his head at that and he looked curiously at his father. What had he said? Was it funny? His father was rarely funny -- on purpose, at least. He dressed humorously, but that was because Corentin didn't care what the humans thought of him. Lowering the last half of the fish he was eating, Claude opened his mouth to ask before he caught himself, and he abruptly slammed his mouth shut. He didn't want to appear too eager for his father's input. His gaze dropped to the fish as if it were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.
Corentin was grateful enough for Nineveh's support that he didn't feel it necessary to reprimand Claude on his own. The point had been sufficiently made. Her words made him look up, though, somewhat startled, and not all that thrilled to be put on the spot. There was a difference between telling her stories about the town and telling Claude. Nineveh could be trusted not to take it as encouragement to run off and fraternize with the landlubbers.
Damn it. He'd promised himself he would give Claude more credit, and it did seem like the boy was at least trying to act more mature. Baby steps, for both of them. And it was heartening that Claude at least seemed potentially interested in one of his stories. That hadn't happened in so long...Corentin missed the days when they'd been close enough that Claude would listen excitedly to his tales of adventure.
Not that he really had a lot of adventures lately, at least, none that he would consider all that exciting. But Claude had always been interested in the strangest things. "Well," he said, finally hauling himself up onto the rock and sunning himself with the others. "There's a place--it's called a 'bar,' I don't know if you've heard of those--where humans go when they want to be bitten by vampires. Apparently some of them enjoy that. They dress up in fancy clothes and rub up against each other, and I guess there's food and drink involved too. It seems to be high entertainment for them. I didn't bother going inside, because I didn't feel like donating blood to any vampires, but the view from outside is good if you want to get a look."
Nineveh's slightly regal sense of amusement never faultered, though like the deepest abyss, there were currents beneath those still, dark eyes. She peacefully continued to eat, showing only a glimmer of fascinated memory to the likes of Corentin's description of these 'bars'. They weren't anything like she imagined they would be before he explained...and that alone drove her curiosity even more. Of course, the whole 'food for vampires' thing was a bit of a damper on that desire. There was something very anti-survivalistic about being bitten. By anything. When they themselves bit--it was to kill.
"But before you get ideas..." She said to her son while adjusting herself a little on the rock: a lean on one bent elbow, facing him. Corentin behind her looking on. Nineveh was enacting a set of rules.. which was an odd reversal of character. Her reasons were her own, but they had a lot to do with the emotional pang she got (which lingered, still) when she and Cor had first reunited days earlier.. and she caught the look in his eyes when talking about Claude. She was setting the boundaries, now, so he wouldn't have to. "You go with one of us until you know the town. And after that.. you tell us where you're going."
Both slender brows were lifted to emphasize her point... it wasn't odd for her, at the moment.. to be laying such restrictions on Claude when she knew he was capable of defending himself (in many circumstances), but he was still young and far too inquisitive for even her tastes. When combined with the recent events... there was no room for debate.
Automatically frowning, Claude flicked his tail out of the water, tipping the feathery fins toward himself lazily. "What -- do the humans bite merfolk after vampires bite them?" From what he's seen of the town, it was unusually empty, but there was nothing alarming about that. Quiet coastal towns meant busy-bodies and that meant he might make a friend.
"You know I'm not a child anymore, right?" he teased his mother, and this time, he glanced at his father, hopeful for an ally.
"You are my child.." She retorted quickly, though the tone was not without it's snarky charm: the same he had sent to her. A pause: Nineveh looked down at the piece of watercres she was slowly eating, and added the afterthought. "No matter how old you get."
That sounded far better coming from Nineveh than it ever could from him, and so Corentin didn't outwardly concur with her. But he was grateful that she'd handled the preemptive discipline this time, so that he didn't have to be the bad guy. When Claude wasn't looking, he brushed the end of his tail lightly against Nineveh's as a gesture of appreciation.
He was the last person who would ordinarily serve as an ally for Claude in a discussion like this, and everyone present knew it, which was why he was rather confounded by Claude's look. But--well, he supposed he could try to give it a shot, even if he agreed completely with his former mate.
"We're not warning you because we think you're too young to handle it. We're telling you not to do anything we wouldn't do. I didn't go to that vampire bar alone either." This was...not strictly true, but he'd originally planned to go with the mermaid who'd told him about the place, and given how uneasy he'd felt there, he'd ended up wishing he'd taken someone else along for backup.
His father's response was completely unexpected and Claude lifted an eyebrow in mute irritation. He wasn't sure how long his parents had been sharing this portion of river, but it was frustrating how quickly they had allied themselves. Was it always like that with a mate? Even after years of separation? Had he been alone with his mother, he might have broached the subject, but he didn't want Corentin to see his curiosity. He always felt silly talking of things like 'mates' around his father.
"Maybe I'm not as scared of the humans as you two." His voice was hard but a little thick, and he spoke quickly, as if surprised at his own rude audacity. The big talk was negated by the way Claude kept his head down, again focusing on his half-eaten fish.
Annoyed, he clambered back up onto the rock, his black claws gaining footholds easily, and he wiggled until he was at the highest point, so far up his tail only barely brushed the surface of the water. Then he waited, quietly eating another fish as his body changed; and once human, he pulled up his legs, hugging his knees, preventing any accidental touch of the water. If they wanted him mer, they'd have to start splashing him.
A little lift to both brows emphasized Nineveh's clear stance on the conversation, though as always, the very faint and slightly aloof smile was on her lips. She was one who could very bluntly convey her opinion so that it crushed the opposition with the efficiency of a large boulder--but at other times, she was the silent one, who had a knack for making other merfolk a bit uncomfortable as they wondered just what was going on in her head. She employed the former tactic with Corentin in the days of their youth, and the latter with Claude.
However.. behind the fathomless dark eyes was an internal debate she wasn't letting either of them see--at least, to the best of her abilities. She understood Claude's impulsions and desires far more than he probably knew, and truly wanted him to be able to explore the new Enlightened world to his hearts content. She wanted him to be happy.
On the other hand, she wanted him alive.. and in one piece. No seafood course for a vampire or demon bait. Simply saying 'it's too dangerous' was not something that was going to get through to Claude... both she and his father knew that. So Nineveh just sighed quietly and went back to eating: a small flex of her tail accompanied the look over her shoulder at Corentin. One that clearly indicated that Claude could have the last word.
She didn't want him venturing off unprepared and distracted simply because he was ruffled about his parents.
"Oh, for the love of--" Corentin was never one to let anyone have the last word, and he caught Nineveh's look a little too late to completely cut off his outburst. He'd been as diplomatic as he could, and he thought he'd done a pretty good job, but clearly it wasn't enough. He didn't know what Claude wanted, and clearly if Nineveh couldn't even deal with him at the moment, it was a lost cause.
"You know what? Fine. Go get yourself in trouble. Knock yourself out. Forget that your mother and I just risked our lives to make sure your sorry tail wasn't being torn apart by demons. Clearly, you know best, so sure, why don't you go find where all the humans are hiding and go hang out with them? I'm sure they'll love it."
He was going to regret that in approximately ten seconds, he was almost positive. Nineveh just let a long nasal sigh drop her shoulders, and covered her face with one clawed palm.
Mute he may have been, but he wasn't deaf; and Claude heard every word his father tossed at him. He tried to school himself to keep calm but he was Corentin's son: mute humility would never be his strong suit. Standing, he bent his knees then dove into the water, twisting in the cool current as if the temperature would physically alter his temper. Then he splashed to the surface, a few feet from where his parents were, eying them balefully.
Then: "Demons are the problem. Not the humans. Just admit you're scared of the humans." Another stupidly brazen threat and Claude wished he could stop. But the words were out; no merman would take them back. So he kept back, as if the distance would prevent any harm, and he tried to get himself out of this net without having to admit culpability. "You just said the demons. If the demons are gone, then..." He shrugged as if that explained everything.
Nineveh's sunny day on the rock was fairly soured by now... Not that she held any animosity toward the only two souls in the world she was really connected to (she did, but it was temporary and rather shallow), but clearly Corentin needed more help before he was left to completely parent a rebellious teen on his own, and Claude could probably use a healthy dose of reality upside the head. Without much of a word, she pushed herself back up to a sit and eased into the water fully. A quick turn intentionally slapped the sensitively thin scales on the tip of her former mate's tail with a slap from her own... just to proove her point, but she was headed toward her son.
"Come with me." A calm order, spoken in that tone of voice that was neither angry, nor gave any room for debate. She grabbed his hand in hers, twining dark tipped claws with his more humanistic colored examples, and waded toward the deeper water away from the shallows. A look sent over her shoulder--locking eyes with Cor to make sure he got that message, and to make sure he was coming too.
The problem was that Claude was right. The demons weren't gone, but they wouldn't be around forever, either, and then Corentin would have no excuse for keeping Claude in the lake except when accompanied by an adult. He didn't trust the humans not to take advantage of his son's fascination, and he didn't trust Claude not to do anything...untoward, like the mermaid with her human mate. Perhaps he'd let Nineveh tackle that topic, if it came up. He knew she was as concerned about it as he was.
He swam up beside Nin, outburst over for the moment, though he wasn't going to just follow passively behind. He'd go wherever she was taking them, and he wasn't quite sure where that was, but he wasn't going to just bring up the rear as if he had no power at all--even if he was pretty sure he didn't.
It wasn't a good thing when his mother swam to him and Claude was wise enough to submit to her command. But he couldn't help his childish trick of making his limbs heavy, his tail inflexible, acting like a piece of flotsam tangled in a net. "Where are we going?" It was a futile query: his mother could put statues to shame with her impassive silence, but he asked anyway, hating the silence.
She didn't answer him right away, but waited until the dirtier waters of the river greeted them at the lake delta--a sign clear enough that should have told him they were headed toward areas more populated by humans. "Giving you what you want." It was a slow, measured statement--one not spoken toward either of the mermen who swam along side her--but to the slightly foggy waters in front of her.
It wasn't long before the shallows of Scarlet Oak drifted closer to the surface. Nineveh slowed and released her son's hand in order to tread and hover through the river's relatively strong current (thanks to the recent swelling of it's shores due to the storm)... a simple hand gesture: the ridged palm of her hand shown to Claude (translation: wait here) as she and Corentin swam cautiously toward the surface. Even though it was a sunny day in summer, there were still no beach goers. None that were playfully squabbling in the shallows like there should have been anyway.
The town looked as it did during the rains. Ransacked. Broken out windows, holes punched through solid walls of wood and brick.. A haze of smoke still hovered, and the beach was speckled with debris one might attribute to a ship that had not only sunk, but exploded before it did so. Undiscernable scraps of material, the occasional piece of clothing... sometimes with a piece of body still in it.
Corentin was torn. He'd hoped, for reasons he couldn't quite explain to himself, that the town would have begun to recover, but it seemed as dead as it had been a few days ago. But on the other hand, this meant--ideally--that Claude would stay safe in the water with them for just a little while longer. If they kept appealing to safety, making it clear that it was their love for him that made them insist on this, maybe they'd get through to him.
And as a compromise, he told himself, just to prove that he wasn't afraid of the humans, he'd take Claude into town himself once it looked safe again. He'd even let Claude show him a few things, maybe. Surely Claude knew plenty about humans that he could teach his old man, and Corentin would be graciously willing to listen, if only Claude would agree to stay with them just until the town was vibrant and living again.
He just wished he could be as diplomatic out loud as he was in his head.
Claude wasn't sure what to expect, but the scene in front of him wasn't it. He felt cold -- not from the chill of the water or the coolness in the air -- but from the very real sense of death and doom. The beach was a kind of battlefield, and Claude swallowed nervous. Merfolk swam everywhere, even those places filled with violence, but Claude never wanted to see that part of humanity. He didn't want to see it now.
The silence from his parents angered him, though, unreasonably; but he still growled miserably: "Are you two happy now? You're right, I'm wrong. It's dangerous." He dove backwards into the water, feeling a burst of restless misery, and he popped back up to the surface of the water once more. "Did any of ours die?" Humans were amusing but they weren't merfolk; even a stranger's death would be a loss to him.The
Nineveh could handle scenes of human on human violence. She and Corentin had seen it for almost two centuries... and it never really changed, though the technology might have (considerably). This, however... was disturbing. She had been very quiet about the little tempest brewing in her head since they first became aware of the attacks, and seeing the beach like it was a second time only doubled the storm's strength. This wasn't just something to witness, but it was infringing on their world. And strangely enough--that wasn't what bothered her the most. What was getting to her, and showed deep in the dark eyed stare that scanned the beach, was the unsettling knowledge that it wasn't humans doing it to each other--but something else going after them.
She sighed quietly with her son's grumbled outburst, but not because of it. He was too old to shelter anymore... but the regret of having the prime of his youth ruined by this in many ways: she didn't want that. She knew Cor didn't either. Only when Claude disappeared in a huff did she take her eyes from the beach... and tracked the distorted image of her child as he swam away.. only to return. Her lips pressed into a thin line before answering. "I don't know... Obviously, this is why we came looking for you."
"We should go." There was nothing more to see here, and the crawling feeling of foreboding that had driven him away from here last time hadn't fully abated. Better for them to be safe at the bottom of the lake again, where even if there were water demons seeking to prey on merfolk, they would be in their element and better able to defend themselves than here in the shallows near land. From what he'd seen, the demon attacks were beginning to slow down, but clearly the danger was far from over.
He swam up beside Claude, hoping the closeness would be permitted. "Why do you always get so offended when we worry about you? It's what parents do."
It was hard -- harder than he would have anticipated -- to see his parents like this: concerned, sensible, muted. It made his behavior seem even more childish and that pissed him off. "I'm not offended," he grumbled, clearly only confirming his father's opinion, but he nodded at the suggestion of leaving. This wasn't the world he wanted to visit day in and day out. This was a wasteland, and he didn't like his new home feeling so empty so soon.
Floating near the top of the water, he watched his parents through narrowed eyes, as if he were napping; instead, he was trying to decide how to apologize for his earlier rudeness without actually apologizing. That would set a dangerous precedent.
"So, what are we going to do? Are we just going to pretend we didn't notice anything happened?" That came out all wrong -- hard, surly, unhappy -- and Claude flicked his tail, annoyed with himself and his parents. Couldn't they just leave him alone?
Nineveh agreed that they should leave the beach for deeper water, but their pace wasn't hurried. She kept her hands close to her sides, right where the pale smoothness of skin melted into midnight scales, shifting and catching the light above as they moved when she did. She said nothing for a while, even with the stiff 'dialogue' between father and son... until Claude tentatively inquired about the rest of their day. Even though his frustration was evident in his voice, his mother didn't address it. Instead, she slowed a bit.. just letting her own momentum carry her through the current drift.
She looked at Corentin, tilting her head a little with her internal debate. A very faint smile made itself known across her lips. It may have been ghostly, but it was genuine. "Want to take him to the dock house?"
Mercifully, Nineveh's suggestion cut off Corentin's planned tirade before it could begin. It would have been a halfhearted one, but still sure to have done far more harm than good. Her words made him pause, though, surprised but not dismayed. Why hadn't he thought of that? The dockhouse would be a perfect compromise, and Claude would surely enjoy the things they'd found. And it would be fun, to show him everything they'd discovered together.
"That sounds like a plan," he said, and if he wasn't smiling, his expression was at least vaguely suggestive of it. "It's not exploring on land, but it's the next best thing. You'll like it, son, we promise."
He swam ahead, remembering the way back to the house, and paused to look back and see if Claude was following.
Claude doubted he would like anything his father was enthused over, but he didn't say that aloud. Instead, he drifted along behind, slow and lazy, mulling over what he had seen. Then he asked, abruptly: "What's at the dock house?" He can't imagine his parents exploring anything human, and he glances between his mother and father, suspicious and cautious. Despite his reluctance to appear overly interested, he grinned and swam faster, easing between Corentin and Nineveh. "Who went into the dock house first?"
Nineveh chuckled lightly: that delicate sound that barely made it past the top of her throat... even less behind softly smiling lips. Her son's enthusiasm swam like he did: just beneath the surface--easy to be seen by someone who might have been looking in that general direction. "Who do you think?" She said mildly, turning to face the glistening, rippled surface as they traveled.. her hands pushed back the banner of black hair that had drifted with the shift across her eyes. Her smile tilted a little bit, already picturing Claude's reaction to the singing fish on the wall.
"Just because I wasn't as wild about it as you were is no reason to make fun of me," Corentin grumbled, even though they hadn't openly been doing anything of the sort. "Besides, I was the one who discovered all the interesting things." He shot Nineveh a playful smirk, and turned to Claude as they swam, letting his son's willing participation and apparent interest get his hopes up a bit.
"You probably haven't even heard of half the things in here. And if you have, maybe you can tell us what they're for, because it sure beats us." They were nearly there now, the stream narrowing and becoming shallower by the second, trees shading the water along the banks. Corentin swam a short distance ahead now, wriggling up onto shore and peering through the door of the dockhouse to make sure it was as empty as it had been last time.
"It's safe," he said, mostly sure of this. "Come on."