One unenthusiastic video under sea [13/??? artefacts collected]

[sadfreezingbrit_archive]

[ Philip's face is looking perfectly normal (if a little crabby in the strictly mood-related sense of the word). Shoulders, arms, no problem there. His chest, not currently covered by any sort of clothing, is looking just a tad more blueish and... transparent than it should.

Opacity only decreases from there, making Phil entirely light blue and see-through below his stomach. Below the waist it looks like he's been torn and tattered, his body segueing into a thick bundle of thin tentacles where his legs should be.

Or in other words: Philip, now with roughly 65% more this. ]

How is that even--

[ The blue tentacles whirl around as Philip turns and spins nervously in front of his algae-encrusted mirror, placing his hands behind his back to confirm that there is indeed nothing whatsoever between the front and the back of his body.

He spins a few more times before letting himself drift onto his mattress with resignation. ]

...I want my organs back.

Comments

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

It worked for me.

[ Then again, Philip isn't supposed to use gills.

Then again, Poland was part fish and he was doing great.

...

In the words of a dear friend: I'm sure you'll be fine. Probably. I hope.

And well, guess they'll find out in a moment, because that right there? That is the shiny surface.

Philip stops one last time to check up on Daniel, then breaks through to the surface. ]

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

[ As Philip breaks the surface of the water, the ripples scatter light everywhere, like glass smashing.

Daniel falters, staring, fearing that something's happened to Phil, who --

-- hasn't reacted at all.

Daniel's sunk a little; he takes a deep, steadying sort-of-breath and closes his eyes as he powers his way up arms-first into the air. He can breathe, but the sudden cold air on his new gilly breathing apparatus is disorienting, and he coughs out some seawater, still not opening his eyes in case the vision hasn't come to an end. ]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip takes a moment to adjust to the air again. Like breathing sand. He thinks it would be more comfortable if he didn't breathe at all, leaving the matter in the hands of his oxygen diffusing jellyfish parts or whatever mansion magic is keeping him alive right now.

And yet he can't help the motions. Oh lungs, Philip wishes he knew how to quit you.

...On that note he is now quite relieved to find Daniel on the surface, not doing the air equivalent of drowning terribly and painfully.

He taps him on the shoulder. ]

Everything all right?

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

[ He's trembling a little, though that could be from the cold. ]

I seem able to breathe.

[ Uncomfortably, for sure, but tolerably well. He reluctantly opens his eyes.

The surface of the ocean is clear of blood, stretching on grey-green and choppy as far as his blinking eyes can make out. splashes in a panic, thinking he really has fallen in, and sinks; tries to kick but finds that his legs are fused together, and remembers where he is. ]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Yes. Okay. Well. Breathing is one thing, but Philip has reason to doubt that this actually equates to Daniel being all right. ]

Dan-- Daniel?

[ His staring off into a distance far, far away is concerning. ]

Hey, are you--

[ His splashing is downright alarming.

Philip would steady him, but there's only so close he can get without his tentacles doing a lot more harm than good.

Instead he frowns, hovering by Daniel's side until it seems he's joined this particular reality again.

Philip breathes (or "breathes") a sigh that wants to be relief, but only ends up coated in yet more worry. ]

Can you...

[ He waves his hand in front of Daniel's face. That's a tried and true medical technique, after all. ]

Still with me?

[ His eyes dart around the surface. Not exactly brimming with places to sit down and rest for a moment.

...Oh, unless you're counting that buoy over there. Why yes, of course there is a buoy. Why wouldn't there randomly be a buoy? Really now.

Philip turns towards it. ]

Let's... just get you fixed up and swim back, okay?

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

I - I -

[ He's answering, and his eyes track Philip's hand just fine, so that's something! ]

I simply - I seem to have -

I remembered being on a ship.

[ The return of flashes of memory is infrequent enough to be unexpected, and exciting enough to be worthy of repetition. Man, he's all over the place today, isn't he? ]

Philip, that was a memory, I am sure of it!

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

That's...

[ Philip will need a moment to catch on to the fact that this belongs into the 'not horrifying' category. Yay, memory?

...Of course! Terrible loss of past history, very slow emergence of personal identity, hence YAY, MEMORY! Glad we could illustrate that train of thought. ]

That's great!

[ Philip just wishes it didn't look so much like its terrible cousin, Mr Hallucination. ]

Do you remember anything else? On the ship?

[ He drifts towards the buoy slowly. That sting treatment? That's still a thing he's going to do. That didn't just go away.

And the definitely didn't drag a messenger bag up here for nothing. ]