Whatever this is, he's already done with it, like, before he even opens his eyes. It's actually worse when he opens his eyes.
Oh, the sight at first is fine, really! A coral reef? Clear beautiful water and sandy beaches? Reminds him of Alola. It's gorgeous, really. But he shouldn't be here. Unexpectedly. Out of the blue. Suddenly. When he thrashes for the surface, something holds him back, and it's the fact that his legs are no longer legs, just a long fishy tail, blue as his armor ever was, with pretty trailing ends he does. not. want. Swimming as a human is fine! He'd been in enough pools and oceans to get swimming. What is this fin bullshit???
He is, also, seemingly alone at first. Which also isn't right. By any means. He hurls himself at the surface, pulling himself along with drags of his arms, letting his tail dangle uselessly except for a few abortive twitches where he's got that urge to kick his legs. He'd been holding his breath since the feeling of water hit his face, and it hasn't hit him yet that he doesn't feel the burning need to breathe as he moves. All he knows is that his lungs need air and he does not have air.
When he breaches the surface, he gasps and heaves, despite, again, not actually needing to, arms flailing, tail also flailing up and out of the water in unglamorous splashes.
When he finally calms down--oh, let's be honest, he's not going to calm down, but when he's calmer anyway, he'll try to flag down any boats or other persons who may or may not be fish-like, because he needs information, and the question at the forefront is 'what the fuck'.]
ii [There's little sadder than a beached sea critter. Unless it's a mermaid. Mermaids sitting on rocks and piers and beaches are hot, right? Like old sailor tales. (Heh. Tails.) Church managed to work his way to the island and hauled himself up onto the beach with his arms. They're nice arms. If anyone cares.
He's realized though that he can't just exist by dragging himself around on his arms. What if his tail dries out? What about stairs? Does this place have stairs? Is this just a tropical paradise? He's pretty sure he sees an old-ass shipwreck in the distance, so this place must have stairs in this world, just not here.
Despite being covered in sand, if anyone who stumbles on him wants to look, his back has an expansive design in black, and his chest has a bird with wings outstretched in blue, and down the inside of his right arm? Handwriting in black, some sort of Latin phrase.]
Fuck, I could use a bite to eat. How the fuck am I gonna get a coconut down? Maybe there's a crab I can crack open...
[Or you could, y'know, catch some fish, you mermaid fuck. At one point, before he ends up back in the ocean, because drying out actually really starts hurting his legs/tail, he looks contemplative at the offending fishiness. Rock in hand. I'm sure this is Fine.]
iii [After being spooked by sharks that don't seem to want to eat him, and trying to get used to the idea that he doesn't need to breathe underwater--or really that he can breathe underwater--then it's time to explore, because fuck if he's gonna sit around and wait for answers to come to him. For long.
So shipwreck it is! Maybe it'll give him some clues. So long as he doesn't get eaten by eels. Fuck those guys. What if there's treasure, guys? Some Spanish galleons or something!!! Time to try and get into whatever's left of the cargo hold.]
Leonard Lucis Caelum | Red vs Blue | it's another airlocked crau folks
[No.
Whatever this is, he's already done with it, like, before he even opens his eyes. It's actually worse when he opens his eyes.
Oh, the sight at first is fine, really! A coral reef? Clear beautiful water and sandy beaches? Reminds him of Alola. It's gorgeous, really. But he shouldn't be here. Unexpectedly. Out of the blue. Suddenly. When he thrashes for the surface, something holds him back, and it's the fact that his legs are no longer legs, just a long fishy tail, blue as his armor ever was, with pretty trailing ends he does. not. want. Swimming as a human is fine! He'd been in enough pools and oceans to get swimming. What is this fin bullshit???
He is, also, seemingly alone at first. Which also isn't right. By any means. He hurls himself at the surface, pulling himself along with drags of his arms, letting his tail dangle uselessly except for a few abortive twitches where he's got that urge to kick his legs. He'd been holding his breath since the feeling of water hit his face, and it hasn't hit him yet that he doesn't feel the burning need to breathe as he moves. All he knows is that his lungs need air and he does not have air.
When he breaches the surface, he gasps and heaves, despite, again, not actually needing to, arms flailing, tail also flailing up and out of the water in unglamorous splashes.
When he finally calms down--oh, let's be honest, he's not going to calm down, but when he's calmer anyway, he'll try to flag down any boats or other persons who may or may not be fish-like, because he needs information, and the question at the forefront is 'what the fuck'.]
ii
[There's little sadder than a beached sea critter. Unless it's a mermaid. Mermaids sitting on rocks and piers and beaches are hot, right? Like old sailor tales. (Heh. Tails.) Church managed to work his way to the island and hauled himself up onto the beach with his arms. They're nice arms. If anyone cares.
He's realized though that he can't just exist by dragging himself around on his arms. What if his tail dries out? What about stairs? Does this place have stairs? Is this just a tropical paradise? He's pretty sure he sees an old-ass shipwreck in the distance, so this place must have stairs in this world, just not here.
Despite being covered in sand, if anyone who stumbles on him wants to look, his back has an expansive design in black, and his chest has a bird with wings outstretched in blue, and down the inside of his right arm? Handwriting in black, some sort of Latin phrase.]
Fuck, I could use a bite to eat. How the fuck am I gonna get a coconut down? Maybe there's a crab I can crack open...
[Or you could, y'know, catch some fish, you mermaid fuck. At one point, before he ends up back in the ocean, because drying out actually really starts hurting his legs/tail, he looks contemplative at the offending fishiness. Rock in hand. I'm sure this is Fine.]
iii
[After being spooked by sharks that don't seem to want to eat him, and trying to get used to the idea that he doesn't need to breathe underwater--or really that he can breathe underwater--then it's time to explore, because fuck if he's gonna sit around and wait for answers to come to him. For long.
So shipwreck it is! Maybe it'll give him some clues. So long as he doesn't get eaten by eels. Fuck those guys. What if there's treasure, guys? Some Spanish galleons or something!!! Time to try and get into whatever's left of the cargo hold.]