Everything said, it wasn’t a bad day. Sunny, sure, with the hint of a storm on the horizon, but Tucker liked those; it made the two worlds feel so much closer when there was as much water above as there was below. The currents got even way more fun to ride; he took his kid on the best little trips when hurricanes hit, which pissed off most of the other parents around. It’s dangerous, they insisted.
It's fun, Tucker through back, before swimming away, double fingers in the air. Er, water.
But he and Junior weren’t the most graceful of swimmers, not compared against the shining beautiful fins of some of the merfolk; they had the rougher, coiled tails full of personality and character of a seahorse. And even if they weren’t the flashiest, he swore he wouldn’t have it any other way; they were way more unique, he told his son, before high-fives were exchanged.
Junior was off with his friends, though, and Tucker was out on his own; sometimes, there were rocks that needed to be sunned upon. Not completely, of course; humans got all stupid when they saw merfolk, wanting to capture them and keep them in tanks for sideshows and use their tails for some mystical bullshit of a new caliber, but hey, his upper half was all human and just begging for some vitamin D. Pulling himself up, he folded his arms on the jagged edges and grinned a little; next time he found a shipwreck, he was going to have to go looking for some sunglasses. He needed to look cool when he was doing this.
Maybe this was why mermaids got a bad rap: laying on the rocks, getting sun, singing people to shore. Granted, he was less singing and more hummy, but it was all close enough. He could see a boat off a click or so, and he could make it pretty fast if he needed to, but for now, well, it was easier just to ignore it in face of heat and naps.
Merfolk
It's fun, Tucker through back, before swimming away, double fingers in the air. Er, water.
But he and Junior weren’t the most graceful of swimmers, not compared against the shining beautiful fins of some of the merfolk; they had the rougher, coiled tails full of personality and character of a seahorse. And even if they weren’t the flashiest, he swore he wouldn’t have it any other way; they were way more unique, he told his son, before high-fives were exchanged.
Junior was off with his friends, though, and Tucker was out on his own; sometimes, there were rocks that needed to be sunned upon. Not completely, of course; humans got all stupid when they saw merfolk, wanting to capture them and keep them in tanks for sideshows and use their tails for some mystical bullshit of a new caliber, but hey, his upper half was all human and just begging for some vitamin D. Pulling himself up, he folded his arms on the jagged edges and grinned a little; next time he found a shipwreck, he was going to have to go looking for some sunglasses. He needed to look cool when he was doing this.
Maybe this was why mermaids got a bad rap: laying on the rocks, getting sun, singing people to shore. Granted, he was less singing and more hummy, but it was all close enough. He could see a boat off a click or so, and he could make it pretty fast if he needed to, but for now, well, it was easier just to ignore it in face of heat and naps.