InsaneJournal

Tweak says, ""Why utah?""

Jasna (hairdryers_suck) wrote in nevermore_logs,
@ 2012-07-31 12:34:00

Entry tags:

briareos, jasna

WHO: Jasna & Briareos
WHEN: Tuesday afternoon
WHERE: Briareos' tattoo shop
WHAT: Inked up sea monsters making friends

If Jasna had her way she would live out most of her life at the bottom of the Hudson. The problems with this, however, were twofold.

One: The Hudson was disgusting. It was eight million people polluting it every day and the pure vileness of what sat on the bottom of that river didn't even bear thinking about. And Jasna didn't have to think about it - she'd been down there and tried to sleep. It felt like sleeping in a plastic bag of slime.

And two: There were a lot of people on the Hudson. There were boats and occasionally strange mechanical things sent down to the depths. It wasn't a relaxing place to be and it if she was ever spotted Jasna didn't know what would happen to her.

So she'd given up on trying to sleep in rivers. She could have moved somewhere quieter but small towns lacked the presence of immortals and without them she would be alone. New York was like a hub for people like her.

Instead Jasna got herself apartments, making sure they had amazing bathrooms in them. Every other room in the house could be terrible but a big bath sold it for Jasna. She didn't sleep in beds - they were strange and uncomfortable - instead she filled the tub and slipped down into the cold water to sleep, letting it surround and soothe her. (If anyone ever broke in and found her they were going to get a terrible fright, especially since Jasna didn't breathe.)

Walking home from work the week before, Jasna had spotted a tattoo shop. That was where she was heading today, clad in torn jeans and a t-shirt for a band she had never listened to. (The clothes were stolen, taken from a poor unfortunate man she had drowned. Jasna saw no use in wasting such things.)

She opened the door of the shop and was immediately greeted by the feeling of cold currents crossing her skin, a feeling she recognised for what it was: the presence of another immortal connected to the water.

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metacarpus
2012-07-31 01:38 am UTC (link)

For months Briareos had kept off of Poseidon's radar, singling himself into this hole he now considered his home. It wasn't at the bottom of the ocean, but it was his cave away from the rest of the world until they dropped themselves into his chair.

He may have dropped out of sight, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the Olympian (or other's) came demanding things of him he didn't want to give. Despite his small size, Braireos knew he was resilient when it came to defiance. He played by his own rules. The problem was he wasn't built to handle it anymore. In one snap Poseidon held his neck in his hands. At one time Briareos had been an arbitrator to Zeus, he'd been powerful and used to destroy the Titan's. With each day he became more human.

It was no surprise that when another sea-faring immortal stepped in, his skin stood on end in defense. His body already stiffened ready to fight. He didn't make friends, he didn't keep any he did make. What he may have made over the course of a year thanks to Eros' schemes hadn't stayed. It was no surprise and he didn't care now to mope over it. All Briareos had had for years was himself, it was better left that way. The immortal realm here in New York had awakened a new life inside him, reminding him of who he really was, but the reality of it was it was just another cage.

He came out of the shadows of the back room, a confrontational look over his face. His muscles relaxed when he realized this immortal sea-bearer was neither Poseidon or his family. Briareos had even stuck clear of Kymopoleia though he still believed her his rightful claim.

His artist was out, as it seemed customary these days for clients to come in when he was alone. He wasn't going to ask what she was from, but there was a slight contentment in knowing she was one like him.

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	hairdryers_suck 2012-07-31 01:56 am UTC (link)
	"I didn't expect to find you here," Jasna said to the man. It wasn't an acknowledgment that she knew who he was, just that he know what he was. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

metacarpus
2012-07-31 02:21 am UTC (link)

Braireos wasn't usually sought for, not by anyone unless he was useful to them. He stepped up, closer to her, far less of a looming monster he used to be.

"No one knows of me except those that seek me out." She wasn't of his pantheon. He could see that now, but she was of the water. She was read in her myths then if she knew what he was. She was not frightened. It irked him.

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	hairdryers_suck 2012-07-31 02:36 am UTC (link)
	When the man-shaped thing stepped closer to her, Jasna didn't back away or shift. She just tilted her head a little in curiosity. "What are you?" He wasn't Slavic, that much was sure. "A sea god?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

metacarpus
2012-07-31 02:49 am UTC (link)

"A Hekantonkheries. A storm god of Old Greek. My mother was Gaia." He'd been born into darkness, cast out into darkness. Unless within his own walls he wasn't comfortable with total darkness anymore.

His rolled his shoulders, craning his neck from side to side from the ache he could never be rid of. This human form wasn't one he'd formed a liking to. He missed his appendages.

"What are you?" his voice was strong now, defensive, curious.

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	hairdryers_suck 2012-07-31 02:55 am UTC (link)
	"Greek," Jasna repeated. "I've met a few of you." She came further into the shop now, brushing a few long dark strands (a wig, it always was when she was out) behind her ear. "I'm a rusalka. We're from Russia, sort of like your river nymphs. My name's Jasna." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	metacarpus 2012-07-31 02:59 am UTC (link)
	"I'm no nymph. I once was a lot bigger than this with fifty arms upon each shoulder." He squinted at her, studying her not knowing if he cared enough to know more. "Briareos," he stated tapping one of the empty seats. She'd come here for a purpose, not to use him. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

hairdryers_suck
2012-07-31 03:10 am UTC (link)

"Must suck to be small," Jasna noted. "I was always this shape."

She came over to sit, crossing her legs. "I'm looking for a new tattoo artist. My last one... well," Jasna shrugged. "I drowned him. I usually stick with female artists for that reason." Another head tilt as she looked at him with renewed interest. "But I couldn't drown you. You're one of the artists here?"

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metacarpus
2012-07-31 03:23 am UTC (link)

He eyed her with hate in that comment. No, being small wasn't ideal. It meant he wasn't resilient to everything anymore.

He took off his jacket, revealing the art that covered his arms and filtered onto his chest and stomach which was hidden by the black tank. "I don't do much art anymore as I own this place," but he'd gotten back in it little by little since last February. "My main artist is out."

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	hairdryers_suck 2012-07-31 03:41 am UTC (link)
	She admired his own tattoos with a nod. "They human? And male?" Jasna asked him with a frown. "Not a good idea for me to use him if you want him to live." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	metacarpus 2012-07-31 04:06 am UTC (link)
	"I'd rather you not drown him. I don't like putting out wanted ads." It drew more attention than he wanted right now. "Sit." He'd already started setting out the necessary supplies. He wasn't going to give her much of a choice. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	hairdryers_suck 2012-07-31 04:16 am UTC (link)
	"Are you deciding my tattoo for me?" Jasna asked with a little amusement as she sat down. She pulled her shirt off over her head and unclipped her bra before turning her back to him. There were very few things on her back, making it a nice canvas for whatever he was going to do. "I've only got two hundred dollars for this, keep it in mind." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

metacarpus
2012-07-31 05:22 am UTC (link)

"If you knew what you wanted you'd have said already." He slapped on his gloves not stopping before wiping down an open area on the small of her back. Most women chose that area, as if it offered some sort of sex appeal. He didn't admire women's bodies, he didn't look at things in that way.

As he shaved the spot free of any fine hairs it did make him think of Kymopoleia. How he'd never touched her in a way that she didn't cry or scream at. How she was the first pretty thing he'd ever owned. It might have been this girl's similar presence that made him think that.

He drew out the idea in mind, a simple but sea-related image that mimiced the squid mural on his wall.

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hairdryers_suck
2012-07-31 05:24 am UTC (link)

"Tramp stamp," Jasna said as he started working on the area. "Not what I would have picked, but let's go with it." She wouldn't have let any regular tattooist just pick something to do on her like this, but he wasn't a regular tattooist. He was a creature somewhat like herself and Jasna was willing to do a lot for the chance to make new friends. It was lonely being the only rusalka. (There must have been others, somewhere, she reasoned, but as yet she'd never come across one.)

"So," she asked as he drew on her back, "have you been in New York for a long time?"

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	metacarpus 2012-07-31 06:09 am UTC (link)
	"Seems to be a target location." He wouldn't let it sit there alone, he drew one of the sea squid's tentacles out, reaching up her back. He thought to himself how much like arms tentacles were. "You're chatty." He wasn't used to chatty. "Nearly a year." After Poseidon had bargained with him. A bargain that turned sour because of Poseidon's manipulation. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	hairdryers_suck 2012-07-31 06:12 am UTC (link)
	"I spend too much time alone," Jasna told him. "I don't like it. So when I meet someone like me, I'm interested. What are you putting on me?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

metacarpus
2012-07-31 03:06 pm UTC (link)

"I'm used to it." In the past he'd had brothers but they'd been split up. That's when Poseidon gave him Ky. It was someone for him to play with, to keep him company, something he could call his. She hated him, and he fed off her hate. All he'd known was other people's disgust. A monster didn't know love or care for it. It was a useless emotion.

That was until Eros had showed him last February what it could feel like. Honestly, he didn't wish to have that again. It made him uneasy. It was curious however to have someone there, but he hated being dependent on someone else. He hated how much he seemed to need Ky or her father because it was familiar. Years without his own arms to keep him company made the appeal of other people possible. He wasn't going to tell a stranger that.

Briareos was quiet until he'd finished the template. "Something to remind you of the sea." It was claustrophobic in the city. Cold, surrounded by nasty water. He zoned onto her back, making the little tentacled monster look like it was climbing out of her skin. It wasn't a tramp stamp now, but letting Braireos be an artist. He started on the outline first before putting the color, dabbing and with quick movements. He wasn't the gentlest of hands, but he was quick.

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hairdryers_suck
2012-07-31 08:50 pm UTC (link)

"I try not to get used to it," Jasna said as she leaned against the chair, her chin resting on the head as the needles whirred against her back. "My kind are supposed to live in groups, but I've never met another rusalka in America. It gets lonely, so I look for other people like myself."

"I've never been in the sea," Jasna said conversationally as he worked. "My people like the rivers, although the rivers that run through New York you wouldn't want to live in them. Do you live in the ocean still?" she asked, turning her head to look at him as much as she could without shifting the canvas of her back.

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metacarpus
2012-07-31 09:10 pm UTC (link)

He let her talk showing no interest in her conversation. She had a curiosity even he didn't hold, but he found himself answering her. "I had brothers." There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Monsters didn't dwell on what they'd lost, but humans did. Briareos hadn't been a monster in a long time. He was stuck in his human form.

"The sea doesn't know me anymore." He didn't know the last time he'd stepped into the salt, it may make him feel more himself. "You talk a lot." He paused in his drawing but did not look at her. He wasn't going to spout longings of what he missed, it made him uncomfortable.

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hairdryers_suck
2012-07-31 09:23 pm UTC (link)

Had brothers, past tense. "Do you miss them?" she asked him. "I miss the other rusalki. We called each other 'sister' but my type don't have real family. We only exist when people drown, or at least that's the story." If Jasna had ever been a mortal woman before she was a rusalka, she certainly didn't remember it.

"I do," she agreed. "Like I said, I get lonely. Means I talk to much when I meet someone else who might understand that feeling."

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metacarpus
2012-07-31 09:32 pm UTC (link)

Her words were just sounds in his head while he inked reds and yellows into her skin, having finished redrawing his outline. "I don't miss anyone." He paused again. He didn't even miss Ky, but she was his. She was his familiar in this world, it was why he held on. "I want what was mine. What I was. I don't like this form."

She was like Allen. Something he wasn't used to. He didn't know what to make of it. He wouldn't ask her personal questions but it wouldn't stop her from asking him.

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	hairdryers_suck 2012-07-31 09:43 pm UTC (link)
	He was a reticent one but as long as Jasna was there and unable to move she saw no reason to stop asking questions. The tattoo felt large enough that she was going to be here for a while. "How long have you been in this form then?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

metacarpus
2012-07-31 10:03 pm UTC (link)

"Too long," he said quickly feeling his very skin crawl. "I remember the first arm that dropped and the last. Everything in between is a blur." He wished she would keep quiet. The needle pricked lower down her back, stabbing quickly, enough for her to draw a breath in between questions.

"I used to be stronger. Even bigger than the Olympians themselves. They were frightened of us. Now I live under their boot." Despite her annoyance, he was growing more comfortable.

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hairdryers_suck
2012-08-05 11:17 pm UTC (link)

"We never had anything like your Olympians: they always sound like spoiled brats the way people tell it. We had Veles and Perun who always made a mess trying to kill each other, but at least they left the rest of us out of it. My kind never feared anything, but it's different for all of us now." Jasna dropped her head gently onto the chair again as he worked. "Now there's plenty things stronger. Now I even had to fear humans, and that's ridiculous."

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metacarpus
2012-08-06 12:07 am UTC (link)

It did seem ridiculous. To fear something. Briareos had never been afraid of anything, but now he couldn't even walk into tight places without feeling his whole body shake.

He moved the tool up her back toward her shoulder blade where one of the tentacles would lay. "The Olympians are tyrants." He'd known no better. The world seemed different now. "Their children are ungrateful. They don't know what complete hate and darkness feels like." He spoke so casually, as if it wasn't the things that nightmares could be made of. It was living for Briareos. Now he was just a small piece of the puzzle.

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hairdryers_suck
2012-08-07 07:36 am UTC (link)

Jasna considered his words carefully and then, after a moment, said, "but you do." Because it clearly didn't need to be a question. She'd known a lot of things that lived on hate and darkness - she had spent decades seeking out furious sea gods and monsters that drowned people from their own pleasure. She had seen darkness, and to some she was darkness. For many a man Jasna had been the last thing they'd seen.

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metacarpus
2012-08-07 05:02 pm UTC (link)

"I was born of hate, from my father's own seed. All it does is fuel me." When he wasn't surrounded by it, when he was calm he was very tame. It was why he'd become an arbitrator for Zeus. He was Braireos the Vigorous. He was the original thunderer. "The original storm giant before Olympians took over."

He was different now, having to mellow out to get through day to day life in a world that scarcely remembered his name. He stopped, wiping away the little pricks of blood that had accumulated. He wiped it off nearly complete with his masterpiece. He didn't see it as art, it was just a way to connect.

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