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 The Deep

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Pesty

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PostSubject: The Deep   Tue Oct 09, 2012 1:14 am



It matters not how long she's been lying here, what would such a petty thing matter to a nautical savage? Morgan is reclining upon a rock near the shore of some unclaimed island. It's small and couldn't even support a poorly populated village, so she's made it her island. Just a spec on the map but her dwelling all the same. One day...one day it shall become the graveyard for The Seraphim. Oh yes. She'll find that ship again, her ship, she'll bring it to its knees and smash it against the cliffside. Then it'll be hers forever. As a breeze paints more salt and brine over her dry body, Morgan sighs through her gills. Unlike her entirely feral cousins, the merfolk, she now only wears a leather half-top to support her breasts and so each pair of gills has the chance to extend the sea maiden's life. Gulls cry softly overhead, always able to scavenge upon this beach for Morgan feeds them most generously. What she doesn't consume from her own hunts are brought back here for the pups to have their fill and finally the gulls. It's a silent pact; she feeds them and they alert her of anything unusual. Well as unusual as their tiny brains can distinguish.

Although it's not the gulls that rouse her from her resting spot. The ocean spray rears up to hit against her pale body. Blades clinking along her backside and pistols rolling against those voluptuous hips, Morgan's gills become gaping mouths. Someone with siren blood is nearby, it's hinted with the water that has kissed her skin. Although the trail is getting thin. Her pups, all three of them, are hungry. They have reached the age that her milk will not sate them and so she must bring them meat. As such stressful hormones from a human body have permeated the waters. Her gills can also detect the air getting thick. A storm will be easy enough for her to survive, she's survived many after all. Webbed and clawed hands grasping the boulder the aquatic hybrid pulls herself into the waves, tail slapping the surface. The sea swallows her up and welcomes her muscled tail. While of the merfolk origin she isn't as blessed as her brother with a slender tail. Then again this has honed the water fae into a fine amazon of the deep. Light hued scales shimmering she begins to glide her tail, closing the distance between herself and her target.

Gills still flaring passionately she can faintly taste traces of skin in the water. Fish, rotting corpses, things far down below and a trail of that aroma. It courses through her gills and amplifies her drive all the more. Now swimming faster she can barely make out the belly of a ship well ahead. Morgan slows, hesitating, swimming in a lofty figure eight. Not too long ago another ship had passed through...usually ships are days apart. Why another ship so soon? Right now...right now she must bring her pups nourishment for them to thrive. She must grow a healthy pod so she will be a fine Queen to lead the pod. Blinking her eye which now darkens with the waters swelling everywhere, Morgan darts forth with renewed vigor. In that thick mane of silk obsidian, small shells and pearls have been entwined. Some in braids and some simply at the ends of the mermaid's locks. This way, even when she's on land, she'll have a piece of home with her.

In a short time the driven huntress has made it to the ship. Yes...yes, the scent is strong here, but so are voices. Yet so is a more human scent. Listless face tilting in mild confusion she utters a single croon from underwater. It resonates against the ship, a haunting cry, but meant to lure forth her brother as he would know the family Call. Yet there is no reply. Pouty lips drawing into a scowl she flares her gills in mild rage at this ship. How dare it come here without her brother! Eye narrowing the femme does a frontal loop, diving down into the dark abyss before swirling about, floundering anxiously for the ship's side where the oars rise and fall. Her jaw unhinges, taking the shape of a cookie cutter sharks, rows of fangs extending as her eye roll back to nothing but a white orb. Morgan bites down into the flat of an oar, heavy and powerful body yanking it down into the depths through the small hole it previously rested upon, wood chipping in its wake. Some blood had accompanied it from the ripped palms of a slave. The oar is released and it bobs along the surface, woeful and frightened. As she circles, parched, her gills filter the blood, a ripple going through her figure as her mouth shrinks to it's normal beauty once more. Now she's more or less interested in this ship. She could get a free meal.

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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Mon Nov 05, 2012 10:47 am

It had been an uneventful day in the crew's journey -- there had been song, laughter, joking, drinking, and stories of the "good old days". Deszeld'lahmrith, known to his men as Cap'n (on deck) or Dezzy (at port), stood languidly behind the wheel of his ship "The Sea Dragon"; a lazy smile on his handsome face. The ship inched along, all things considered -- the wind blew the sails and the men below deck rowed, but nothing seemed to be in a hurry; especially their captain. The day was overcast, as per the norm, but having just finished their most recent "quest", the entire ship was more or less at rest.

Laughter had just died down on the deck, a particularly funny story about a drunkard and a whore having come to a close, when a cry of pain shirked Dezzy out of his contented haze. His eyes narrowed in confusing, nodding to his second to take the wheel as he quickly stalked below the top deck. His ears were met with a string of curse words and the bemused look on most of the men's faces.

"What the hell is going on?" Dezzy's voice was deep, bellowing, and commanding -- the men quieted in their hushed whispers and turned.

"Dolath -- the oar got ripped out o' his hand. No idea what did it. I's jus' gone." One of the men offered, shrugging and shaking his head.

Dolath was a young boy, no more than seventeen, that they had picked up last time they were at port. He had been looking for work and Dezzy took him in -- it was better than ending up on another ship, that was for sure. The young boy looked up at him, hand clutched to his chest, a rag was wrapped around it and was quickly turning red.

"Get Patchy, get him fixed up." Dezzy waved his hand at another man nearby. Patchy was the ship's medic, or at least the closest thing they had to one. His name not only reflected his ability to patch up the crew, but also for the patch he wore over his left eye.

"Aye Cap'n."

Dezzy returned to deck and was greeted with more murmuring.

"What do ya think did it?"

"Maybe a rock? Could of torn out the bottom of our ship..."

"No, no. Rocks don' break oars like tha'."

"A shark?"

"Why would a shark take an oar? They develop a taste fer wood?"

"These waters are cursed. I've tol' yah tha' since tha very beginnin'." The crew quieted and Dezzy's eyes settled on the speaker. He was an old man and had been with Deszel'lahmrith for a very long time -- his beard was a snowy white and his hair was thin with age. "There are creatures in this water, creatures more terrifyin' than sharks or giant squids or anythin' else yah might imagine. We should be on our way."

Dezzy made his way over to the side of the boat, peering down into the water. The oar was floating, mangled and broken. He frowned, eyes narrowing in concentration as he surveyed the water for any shadows beneath the surface, any idea of what might have caused it to occur.
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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Mon Nov 05, 2012 3:24 pm

Oh yes they were indeed aware now that something wasn't quite right. The aquatic amazon could only coo to herself underwater as she looked upwards once she had made a round about the ship, now seeing the floating oar above her. Up beyond the water's surface is a humanoid shape melted in with the ship's railing. She hasn't played with her food in awhile and today would be a nice day to start. Old habits die hard. Thick, powerful tail coiling up beneath her she shoots up out of the surface directly under the oar, catching it in her hands. With a melodious laugh the mersiren makes a swing at the rather attractive male peering over the railing, aiming to hit the side of his head or shoulder, depending on how swiftly he reacted. Releasing the oar to go where it may she reeled backwards. Again if the male were too slow her translucent tail fin would give him a powerful uppercut on her way back down into the ocean.

Morgan dives down to rise up at the other side. Finding grip in the wood via using her claws, she begins to scale the wood with her tail in tow. It's a slow process...but she heard the shuffle of boots. She heard prey. Vulnerable, pearly underbelly scraping faintly against the side of the ship she grits her teeth as her stubborn arms continue to lift herself. With her eyepatch hindering whatever might be on her left side, Morgan keeps one of her finned ears unfurled to listen closely. Her tail melts away to split into two strong legs coming from a wide set of child-bearing hips. Up onto the railing now opposite of the side where the oar had been floating she didn't make to nab any of the crew of they neared.

Instead she firstly observed them with indifference. A few had noticed her and she fanned her membranous ear fins to listen to their voices. No, none of them had very attractive voices as far as she was concerned. For sirens attraction was, first and foremost, the sound of a being's voice. After that was their looks. Vain creatures as they are they value beauty over all else. Which is why none should ever insult a siren because they are terribly defensive of said beauty. Hands holding onto the railing her forearm fins, along the side where the ulna bone is, fanned out to direct some sea spray towards her form.

She won't Sing, not just yet. Her eye is open for the male she had taken a swipe at with the oar, head rotating and body leaning back from the railing, prepared to release her and dive back down if need be. Her webbed toes wiggle as they grip along the ship's wooden mass.
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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Tue Nov 06, 2012 11:20 am

Dezzy was certainly caught off guard as the tailed woman jettisoned from the ocean, oar in hand. He pulled back, eyes wide, but the oar made solid contact with his shoulder. Despite his humanoid frame, however, Dezzy is extremely hardy -- the oar makes solid contact with him before breaking again and tumbling back into the water below. The contact, though not particularly painful for the dragon, has agitated him -- her next strike is dodged, though clumsily, as the muscled man throws himself backwards onto the deck of his ship.

"Did you see that?"

"What was it?"

"Cursed, I tell ye'. Cursed!" The old man bellows, shuffling towards the steps that lead below deck as fast as his aged bones can take him.

Dezzy, with the help of a nearby crewman, pulls himself to his feet and marches back towards the railing of the ship. His eyes are narrowed, scouring the water for the woman... creature... mermaid?... he isn't quite sure...

The old man's voice catches his ears again, though most of the crew has gotten used to dismissing him. The man was always rambling about curses and creatures that none of the crew had ever seen. There was a certain stock that Dezzy put in the man, though, having non-human origins himself. "A siren... Don't look her in the eyes!"

The shirtless captain turns to face the opposite side of the ship -- the crewmen have gone silent, but for hushed whispers about the beautiful woman perched on the railing. The old man has faced away from the woman, fallen to the ground and crawling as far from her as possible. Dezzy feels pity for the man -- anyone who had heard of the stories of sirens knew it was their song that was dangerous, not their eyes. None of the crew had heeded his confused warning, however, not even Dezzy.

The male was captivated -- the woman, whatever she was, had to be the most beautiful things that he had seen in day... no, weeks... no... maybe even months. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he rubbed the shoulder she had struck with the oar, feigning slight discomfort. His voice is deep, even, perhaps a little playful. Though his voice had never been described as beautiful, it had been called "suave", "nice", and "just so..." followed by a sigh by numerous partners in the past.

"That's quite a swing you have, there." The gold bangles about his wrists jangle softly as he lowers his hand from his shoulder, positioning itself at his hip, thumb tucking into the red sash tied there.
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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Tue Nov 06, 2012 8:56 pm

She was on high alert at the moment, just as this fine crew was. Here she was loitering on the railing of their ship after trying to slap around a (handsome) crew member, tail replaced with long legs. Morgan is NOT good with her legs. Being feral and after so many years using her tail she might have to relearn mostly how to walk again. Though she has no intention of leaving the water long enough for that to be a requirement. When the old man began shouting she bristled visibly, her hair even seeming to gain volume as her fins expanded in warning, gills opening to slap against their seals in vague warning. A low, cat like growl issued deeply from her chest.

"One eye. She has one eye and it will not harm any to look into it." she rumbled softly, her body relaxing as she realized this elderly man was disturbed in some way humans become when their hair is so white and absent. Morgan tilted her head curiously, a cat watching a mouse, as the man crawled away. She had began to lean over as though to spill onto the deck and slink after him though noticed the shadowed movements of the crew. Morgan cooed harmlessly at them before resting back behind the railing, arms crossed beneath her bust to compress her chest for doubly impressive cleavage. Keep them good and distracted as she assesses the situation.

They looked healthy and very tasty, though this number of healthy men might prove too much hassle to hunt. She could always sway her hips at the captain and ask for some treats in return for fish she can offer them. "She is not a curse!" Morgan snapped at the crawling form of the elderly man, eye darkening with the light color of a white squall roving in the iris. Impulsive, harsh and abundant as the sea, her emotions often ruled her. For a moment she had to cling to the railing as, in her temper, her legs sealed together into her tail again to slap the side of the ship.

Much too lazy to have her legs again she simply swung her patched tail through an opening of the railing beneath her to let it rest along the deck. At least seven feet long it is much thicker than a mermaid's and stronger. Morgan now eyed the tanned male she had knocked over, a tiny smile curling her deceptive mouth when he rubbed at his shoulder. The smile straightened out in mild surprise once she heard him speak. His voice was...well. Not at all bad. It made her tail fin curl and release, gills flexing as she tried to breathe in his scent through the sea spray being carried by the wind around them.

"She has had practice." Morgan admitted, watching his hand going down to his sash. For a moment her tail coiled as though to slip away and ricochet her back down into the water. Sailors often carried weapons within their pockets and sashes. Projectiles, bombs, swords, anything nasty she may not want cutting her lovely skin. She saw no weapon and allowed her tail to relax as it flicked back and forth, much like a cat's.

Morgan narrowed her eyes as his scent settled within her gills, tasting him before she would smell him. Her back straightened as she stopped leaning against the railing. He looked human but he didn't smell like one. Suspicion settled in though she smiled. "Quite some crew...healthy and strong. Where is their captain?"

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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Wed Nov 07, 2012 2:43 am

The old man cowered and whimpered as the woman chastised him, hands over his head and eyes closed. The poor man muttered a prayer, certain that he would soon be from this earth. Dezzy clucked his tongue and shook his head, "No, no. Of course you're not. You'll have to forgive Lefty, there. The poor man is well along in years and has forgotten his manners, haven't you, Lefty?"

The old man only offered a pitiful wail in response and Dezzy raised a brow, looking pointedly at the woman to make his point. Normally Dezzy was not so quick to leave any crew member out to dry in the presence of a stranger, but this woman... this sea creature... she was much too delicious to simply let escape. Dezzy grinned, though he had to admit he was surprised, when the long tail flopped onto the deck before him. He was certain that she had been tailed before. The men gasped, however, never having seen such a unique and divine creature in all of their days.

The hushed tones rose in volume as they speculated about the mersiren's origins; Dezzy cleared his throat and the crew's voices fell silent, eyes flitting between the two figures as they looked each other over. Dezzy would not have his men scare her off; he had to know her: who she was, what she was, what she wanted, and how he could find her. As a creature that collected beautiful things, the water dragon had been consumed by the mersiren already.

At her question, his eyes widened and his lips curled into a gentlemanly smile. He bowed low at the waist, hand flourishing out before him. "As the fates have it, I am the captain of this fine crew. Deszeld'lahmrith, at your service, but you can call me Dezzy." He winked, pearly white teeth contrasting with his tanned skin as he straightened himself once more. "And how, if I may be so bold as to ask, may I address you?" He left the question open to her interpretation -- whether she offered her name, a nickname, or some other witty comment to him, he would take it.
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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Wed Nov 07, 2012 8:24 am

Morgan eyeballed Lefty briefly before her attention remained on the scarred tower of masculinity before her. He was both entertaining and irksome so she wasn't allowing herself any position to verbally intercept him further. She would be just a dumb beast to try any bodily harm upon an innocent old man with his crew around. Catching the tattooed male's gaze she nodded and gently spoke to Lefty, her Voice pooling in maternal undertones. "Lefty she will not harm you." and this was the truth for she had no reason to harm any of them, not yet at least. They've done nothing to threaten her.

Though the rise of the crew's words forces her eye to land back on the tall man, fins unfurling as the dorsal fin alone her spine bristled up as well. Her long ebony hair draped down behind her down below the range of sight of the males all visually worshiping her (how she loves it!) and the patches of bright orange scales on her shoulders glimmer with vibrant health. Tail relaxed along the deck it curved somewhat to make a semicircle to her right to guard the blinded side of her face, right eye covered by that leather eyepatch. Simply a precaution.

His rakish smile and the bow made her all but glow, absorbing the wonderful mannerisms she was being shown by this crew and its captain. "Captain Deszeld'lahmrith...Dezzy." she parroted that name and the nickname, registering it both in her civil and feral halves. He even politely requested something to call her by. Oh no he could not have her real name, not so soon. It is much more fun to toy and play with new thralls at any rate. "Dezzy may call her Voix." the word of her native tongue for 'voice' of course.

"Voix will not lie. She was going to try and hurt this fine ship and its crew. Perhaps take a bite out of the tasty oarsmen." she licked her full lips, still tasting that blood as her eye flicked over the crowded crew. Tail flexing a bit it quivered as she stretched its muscle groups, allowing the shimmering propeller to relax. "However she would instead like to trade." a slender hand went into the thick locks of her hair to present a stunning pendant towards Dezzy, those two drops on the bottom made naturally from her own tears. Not that she can admit that for fear of being hunted for said precious tears.

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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Fri Nov 09, 2012 10:14 am

The old man remained cowered on the deck, though his whimpers subsided; her voice was soothing, placating him to a certain extent. Dezzy nodded appreciatively to the old man, though Lefty was currently too busy staring at the back of his eyelids to notice.

The Captain's smile only grew when she repeated his name -- it sounded so right coming from her lips. Though he had said and heard his name spoken plenty of times, there was a certain... something it carried when she spoke it. It came alive in the air and he was suddenly very proud to be the owner of that name and honored that she took the time to say it. 'Voix... Voix...' Dezzy took a moment to repeat the name she had gifted him with in his head -- he wanted to say it perfectly. "Voix... It certainly is a pleasure." He bowed again, eyes refusing to leave the form of the woman still perched on the railing.

The murmuring increased in volume again when the buxom woman admitted her initial intentions.

"Dolath?"

"She's the one that took the oar?"

"I'd let her take a bite out of me."

Laughter rippled through the sailors as Dezzy blinked, eyes narrowing in confusion briefly. Normally, he would never stand for such talk against his crew -- they were his and no one threatened them. His eyes traveled the mersiren's frame, her fair skin, silken hair, generous curves... Curses...

"Well, thank you for your honesty. I appreciate your kind gesture, I certainly wouldn't have like our first meeting to be on such terrible terms." He smiled again, though his eyes carried a hint of something much more serious. That serious look dissipated ever so slightly when the voluptuous mersiren offered a trade and pulled the pendant from her hair. Dezzy blinked, head tilting slightly to the side as he measured the pendant against the treasures he currently had in his cabin.

He remembered all of the things that he collected -- what they looked like, their approximate worth, the material they were made of, how they felt in his hands. Deszeld'lahmrith had yet to collect something like that pendant. Well, surely he had collected pendants, and certainly some of those pendants may be similar to that one that was being offered to him now, but none that looked exactly like that one.

Dezzy strode forward, the leather of his boots softening his steps and his bangles clambered about his wrists, and would stop about three feet out in front of the alluring mersiren, if she allowed him that close. He would lean forward slightly, hand extending towards the pendant, but stopping before touching it. "What is your proposed trade, Voix?" His voice low, rumbling in his chest slightly, as he grinned up at her from his currently bent position.
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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Fri Nov 09, 2012 5:21 pm

Hearing the crew speak like that she chuckled softly, gills fluttering to create a purr-like humming as her cheeks tinged a sea-green color. It always pleased her to hear such reckless things from those who did not know what they would be getting themselves into. Even if she could see the captain getting perturbed by this fact of hunting, it was indeed a fact. Merfolk and sirens alike are marine predators. They prefer live, wriggling food to a flaccid slab of carcass anyday. Or of course food they can properly 'play' with before eating.

She patiently held the pendant for Dezzy to examine. The way he seemed to gauge and weigh the pendant from a distance with only his sight further proved he could not be human, no human had that keen of senses. And he reeked of something else entirely though with the damp crew nearby, the wet decks and the sea herself filling Morgan's senses, it was difficult to discern just what Dezzy really was. He moved closer and her purring stopped as she watched him carefully though made no move to put distance between them.

That tail of hers remained stretched out towards her right as her eyepatch covered the right half of her upper face. It curled behind Dezzy slowly with the midsection lifting to rest along the back of the man's calves as the tail fin tapped his rear coyly. Her tail tightened gently to push him closer and she reached with her left arm, the empty hand, to place her cool palm against his sternum just below the collarbone with her thumb and fingers gently rubbing at his collarbone. Morgan just loves to touch. All sirens do, they can't help themselves.

"If Captain Dezzy has any to spare, Voix very much wishes to have three crates of fruit and a crate of chocolate. One fruit crate should be filled with pears." a little something for herself and her pups, though she can't reveal this to Dezzy. If anyone knew of the pups there would be danger. Young non-humans are often taken into slavery or placed into auction as pets. It was sickening and maddening and Morgan has already had that scare once before.

Up close Dezzy would be able to see her left eye in better detail. The iris ripples with the ocean waves and flecks of gold and seafoam seem to glint around her pupil, long lashes curled upward from the eyelid. With them so close Dezzy's scent tingles her nose. Left eye narrowing she lowers her hand from his sternum to drag her nails lightly down his chest to scrape down his abdomen before removing her touch entirely, tail dropping away from the male as well. She'll need to be much more careful than she had anticipated.

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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Fri Nov 09, 2012 6:44 pm

As her tail shifted, Dezzy didn't move. The crew quieted, watching with wide eyes, as the mersiren's tail curled around their captain -- much of the anticipation died into chuckles and pats on the back as her tail fin slapped at his rump. Dezzy's smirk returned full forced, eyeing the beauty before him playfully. The muscled man allowed himself to be pulled towards her with no resistance at all. As her hand touched his chest, his lips would part slightly for a quick intake of breath. Being a dragon, even a water dragon, Dezzy was abnormally warm to the touch. His chest resonated the heat he carried within and could expel when he was in his draconic form.

"Get her what she asks for." He gestures with his hand over his should, though he doesn't turn to look. When he doesn't hear the immediate scuffle of feet on the ground he snaps loudly. "Now." Four men immediately begin to move towards the stairs leading below deck.

As they wait for his men to return, Deszeld'lahmrith gladly lets Morgan run her hands over his chest. His smirk never leaves his features and his eyes never leave her own. As she pulls away from him, his grin intensifies and he raises his eyebrows suggestively, chuckling softly. "There's no time limit on touching, you know..." Regardless, he take a few steps back as his men return toting boxes in order to survey the stock.

"We only had half a barrel of pears left, but we brought an extra with some plums. Also, we had to get the chocolate from your personal stocks, there was only a half crate of that, too." One of his men filled him in and Dezzy frowns deeply.

"My apologies. It looks as though I don't have all that you require. I could always make a quick stop into port and return to you? Unless, of course, there is something else I can interest you in..." He trails off, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. "The decision is your own. I completely understand if you are no longer interested. I would, however, hate to lose the opportunity for such a treasure..." The double meaning in his words not hidden in the least.
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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Fri Nov 09, 2012 7:17 pm

His warmth was startling to say the least. Being an undine she has usually felt cold to the touch unless she had been sunbathing or her body was undergoing certain activity. She has had warm partners, humans were often warm, though no one nearly as heated as Dezzy. it was nearly distracting. When he right away ordered his crew to get her what she had requested her pride swelled up to see them scurrying along the deck. Morgan did love seeing men in action.

He had given her no limit to touching him but she knew she had to limit herself. With this one she wanted to take her time, figure out just a little bit more of him before attempting anything primal. His aura was confident and friendly but beneath that a white squall lay in wait to break out. Something did at the very least.

When the crew came back with barely half of what she had requested the mersiren pursed her pouty lips. Well beggars can't be choosers--though, no, she would never beg. Morgan is far too proud for that. It would be a fair enough of a trade at the very least. Eye moving back to Dezzy's face she listened to his offers and a smirk played along her mouth. She laughed gently and leaned forth, left arm going around his right side as her right arm moved up over his shoulder.

Morgan pulled them close so her breasts bulged against his bare chest, her damp top cooling his torso a bit. She moved in to rest her forehead against his right shoulder and with a sigh took in more of his scent. Exhaling a gentle hum the mersiren began to purr. It felt wonderful to have their bodies touch like this. Lifting her head she kissed where his shoulder and neck connected before then kissing his jawline and finally his temple in order to speak lowly into his ear with her lips against the shell of his ear, warm breath dusting against it. "Captain Dezzy doesn't have his opportunity today."

Her left hand slid up his back to help the right clasp the neck around his throat, careful not to touch his hair. It was a siren thing, handling hair. Pulling away she smiled at the sea dragon before letting her weight fall backwards with her tail scraping off of the deck. She tilted herself down to nosedive into the waves with her belly facing away from the ship, plunging into the cool depths. Gills popping open she drank in the saltwater greedily before starting to swim rapidly in a tight circle, moving along with the ship slowly.

A small whirlpool had formed, it seemed to funnel sharply down at the end, rippling water off towards the south. Morgan resurfaced and waved at Dezzy had he looked over the railing. "Tell them to drop the items into the whirlpool!"

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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Sat Nov 10, 2012 12:14 pm

Dezzy watched her reaction closely to his offers; the man was afraid that she may be no longer interested in a trade considering how much they were lacking. Her response, however, replaced his worry with confidence, in his ability to make exciting and acceptable proposals, and arousal. The coolness of her body was certainly a new experience to him -- his past lovers had always been relatively warm, though not nearly as much as himself. The sea, obviously, was usually much cooler than him; however, he had a special connection with his mistress.

As she pulled him close, kissing his neck and jaw, Dezzy's right hand ghosted across her back, finger tips making the lightest of contact, and he inhaled her scent deeply. She was like the sea herself made form and Dezzy's chest tightened in want. The sounds of her purring brought him a certain level of satisfaction, his eyes drifting closed as she breathed against him.

As she pulled away, Dezzy pouted, albeit playfully, as she clasped the pendant around his neck. "Maybe some other time, then?" He raised a brow, his pout quickly replaced with his ever confident smirk. As she dove backwards from the ship, he immediately moved to the edge of the deck, peering into the depths of the ocean beneath his ship. She was graceful, beautiful, playful, a challenge... Dezzy wanted more of her.

He watched as she formed the whirlpool beside the ship. As she waved up to him and gave him his order, he nodded. "Do as she says! Toss it over." He passed the order along to his men. As they approached the edge of the deck, he placed a hand on one of their shoulders. "Don't miss..." His eyes were serious, carrying the hint of repercussion should they fail their task.

"Aye, Cap'n." The men nodded, heaving the containers over the railing one by one into the depths below.

Dezzy was suddenly wondering so many things. He bowed back over the railing. Assuming she had to take the items to their final destination, he posed a question, should she still be around to hear it. "Where can I find you?"
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Pesty

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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Mon Nov 12, 2012 8:12 pm

His warm hand across her back had made her dorsal fins and forearm fins light up softly like a luminescent jellyfish. Their close contact had certainly sparked her interest and huntress instincts further. Likewise she could sense he hungered for her much the same though not in the way most of her thralls become. It was as if his ears and mind had a level of resistance to her Voice. Which made sense given his entirely non-human scent. That is what attracted her the most though to relinquish attacking; not only his tone but his aquatic non-human aroma.

Floating next to the funneling whirlpool she observed with satisfaction as the cargo was tossed down on target. They were whisked away by the surge of the swirling current to be safely tossed ashore her private isle some odd miles away. Morgan crooned her pleasure at the outcome before looking up to smile at Dezzy. "He won't unless Voix wishes him to. Should he be unable to wait he must dip the pendant in saltwater three times. Voix will find him."

With her mystical promise the undine blew a kiss to him before slipping under the waves. She lashed her tail, orange and white scales shimmering as her moony tailfin seemed to wave the ship farewell. Morgan was grinning toothily the entire way towards her isle, following the suction of the current she had made. This was going to be a very interesting game of cat and mouse.

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PostSubject: Re: The Deep   Wed Nov 14, 2012 1:27 am

Dezzy frowned thoughtfully at the water that the sultry mersiren had disappeared within, arms crossed on the rails. After a few moments his head dropped onto his arms and he sighed, letting out a held breath all at once. When he looked up, his expression was decidedly changed. In place of his frown he held a brilliant smile -- he had just stumbled upon the greatest treasure he had ever seen and she alluded to looking for him in the future.

If he couldn't wait... He touched the pendant, fingers caressing the metallic surface. He had to admit that he at least thought about dipping it into the water right then. Hell, he'd thought about diving in after the udine and trying to follow her without the aid of his ship. Of course his crew couldn't hold a candle to him, at least in Dezzy's eyes, but he still didn't like the way they eyed her. It was irrational, of course, no one could NOT eye her that way -- she was a thing of beauty -- but Dezzy never admitted to being rational.

If there was one thing Dezzy admitted to, however, it was being stubborn. He wasn't sure just how stubborn he could be this time around... every second she spent away from him was a second that provided her the opportunity of finding someone else, or someone else finding her. Someone with a bigger ship, a better smile, more pears... His eyes narrowed, conflicted, frustrated... oh, so very frustrated.

He looked around, the crew staring at him, staring off into the ocean, talking about their recent visitor. Dezzy frowned again. "What the hell are you all gawking at? This ship isn't going to move itself! Back to work!" Of course the ship was moving itself, though aimlessly and slowly, but that wasn't the point. "I'll be in my cabin."

There Dezzy retired, partially cross, partially in a dreamy haze, and completely uncomfortable in his pants. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd been this... consumed... and he absolutely loved it.
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