Ulla (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
neverwaitslong) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
theclipper_tlv2022-08-01 11:47 pm
neverwaitslong) wrote in theclipper_tlv2022-08-01 11:47 pm
Entry tags:
"Ulla felt hate bloom in her heart."
Who: Ulla & open
When: Early August
Where: around the Clipper
Warnings: Anger, possible ineffectual violence
What: Furious mermaid is not settling in well
Being captured all over again was bad enough.
But then there's this, her power stripped from her, stuffed into a body that used to be hers but doesn't feel like home anymore. A body even more ill-suited for being trapped in the confines of a ship than her eel tail was. At least that let her slither. Slow and unwieldy, but not impossible. Now, she'd flop on the deck like a caught fish.
The beautiful silver scales on the fish tail she grew up with are a reminder of all that she lost, and she hates it.
"Warren!" she yells. Because if he's here, it would at least be some consolation. He has to be here.
--
Eventually, Ulla figures out that the ridiculous ostentatious open seashell is meant for her, as a form of transportation. It feels like a mockery of a throne, an absurdity. She misses the fishbowl Warren got her. She misses her old cabin, with the comforting weight of water pressed around her. She misses Warren. And she's furious all the time.
All of the songs she sings are angry, impotent things that would tear the ship apart if she could put any real power behind them. She composes spells of destruction, and wishes they were more than an intellectual exercise.
[For Nanny Ogg]
Ulla glares daggers at her new warden. Or assistant, or whatever they're calling themselves here. "I've already had a warden for two years. You aren't him."
When: Early August
Where: around the Clipper
Warnings: Anger, possible ineffectual violence
What: Furious mermaid is not settling in well
Being captured all over again was bad enough.
But then there's this, her power stripped from her, stuffed into a body that used to be hers but doesn't feel like home anymore. A body even more ill-suited for being trapped in the confines of a ship than her eel tail was. At least that let her slither. Slow and unwieldy, but not impossible. Now, she'd flop on the deck like a caught fish.
The beautiful silver scales on the fish tail she grew up with are a reminder of all that she lost, and she hates it.
"Warren!" she yells. Because if he's here, it would at least be some consolation. He has to be here.
--
Eventually, Ulla figures out that the ridiculous ostentatious open seashell is meant for her, as a form of transportation. It feels like a mockery of a throne, an absurdity. She misses the fishbowl Warren got her. She misses her old cabin, with the comforting weight of water pressed around her. She misses Warren. And she's furious all the time.
All of the songs she sings are angry, impotent things that would tear the ship apart if she could put any real power behind them. She composes spells of destruction, and wishes they were more than an intellectual exercise.
[For Nanny Ogg]
Ulla glares daggers at her new warden. Or assistant, or whatever they're calling themselves here. "I've already had a warden for two years. You aren't him."
no subject
"Because he's treated me better than any person has in my life," including Aleksander, who didn't trouble himself to be gentle about it when he told her harsh truths that Ulla never asked to hear.
"He would have gotten something out of it, if I got my life back, but I don't think that was ever his only reason. We understood each other. There's no one else I trust to get me free of this place, but he isn't here." Trusting any warden besides Warren is unfathomable.
no subject
She chose. He neither dismissed nor countered it, even when he perhaps should have. And now here they stand face to face again for a second time.
"Can there ever truly be understanding between two who are not equals?" he asks, but it's borderline rhetorical. He strongly believes there cannot, and he's seen it over and over and over again. "Where has he gone, then?"
no subject
Ulla shrugs, because whatever barriers were between her and Warren didn't feel like they had anything to do with inequality.
"He's mine, and I'm his. He spent two years earning that." And she never made it easy. Trusting Warren was the scariest thing she's faced in her life. Like walking off a cliff with her eyes wide open, knowing what it feels like to crash at the bottom. She kept him waiting awhile.
"He's gone. We were all taken from our ship and locked up separately. Some people wound up here, but he wasn't among them."
no subject
Unimportant just now, although he marks it for later. No information is completely useless.
"Perhaps he will show yet, then. Arrivals are still trickling in. Surely some are merely biding their time."
no subject
"I'm here. The man he loves is here. His former warden, from back when he was an inmate himself, is here too. If he had any control over it, this is where he'd be." She isn't harboring much hope for Warren showing up, though a part of her wishes he'd turn up looking for all of them and tear this damned ship apart.
"And he has a wolf's sense of smell. He'd find us all in minutes if he turned up."