A Tail of Two Hearts

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Ravenbelle

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  1. Primarily Prefer Female
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Modern fantasy, Romance, Sci-fi, Hurt/Comfort, Horror, Magical
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Faster....Faster..!
If she does nothing else, she must survive...right? But why?

Marina's tail was almost a blur she was beating the water so hard. She hadn't used her tail this much in so so long..
But she has to get away! Before She finds out.
Why is she even trying so hard? It wouldn't be so bad if she were to die now...father is gone..and mother has been missing for too long to believe she'll ever come back. All because she "had" to go on land. She couldn't go back there. It would be far too painful..the most dishonorable thing she could do..not as a princess. but as a daughter..
Her eyes stared straight ahead, into dark, open water with no end in sight. Her tail faltered and slowed, losing its desperate rhythm for a moment. For one agonizing instant, the young mer was aware of every injury still fresh from the beatings--torture-- inflicted by the sadistic brother of the Sea Witch now ruling the kingdom of Atlantica so cruelly.
She was losing the battle against the current tugging her fins back to deeper waters. The gills at her hips heaved and burned with exhaustion. There was no way she'd make it..but her friends had risked everything to save her!
Black spots began to invade her vision until she could hardly even tell which direction she was headed at all. Her whole body ached and screamed at her to stop..to rest...to sleep...she had fought this torment before, but this seemed impossible to surpass by sheer willpower anymore..
but she has to..keep...swimming...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A new dawn broke on the horizon of Holly Beach on the edge of a small town called Evanston. The soft rays of early morning shone uninterrupted by any clouds at all and the ocean shimmered back, telling its endless story in peaceful waves.

The waves roll low...
The beach was generally unpopular, especially at such an early hour. It was rocky in most places..not always safe for swimming, especially at high tide. But for now, the sea was calm and slow, kissing the shore in its gentle way.

And the waves roll high...

The sea foam bubbling up against the wet sand encountered a new interruption to its journey up the beach, always doomed to fail anyway by rolling back out over and over. This morning, it sizzled against bare skin and still scales.

And so it goes...
The owner hardly breathed, stuck in a terrible state between land and sea, begging for water with gaping gills half exposed to the breeze and panting softly for dry air at one time. Even covered in deep bruises, pink scars and slowly healing cuts, the mermaid was tragically beautiful. Her features were nymph-like, soft and appealing, for she took after her mother. But alas, her eyes were closed, her most striking gift from her father hidden from the world by heavy lids and a deep fatigue that seemed to permeate to even her bones. One particular gash on the upper part of her tail shone crimson with dried blood and scales that clung to her flesh by mere threads of tissue, yet they still glimmered bright blue as the sky in the sunlight.
Under a bright, blue, endless sky...
Marina lay on her side, unmoving on an unfamiliar beach, pieces of seaweed clinging to her hair, strewn on the sand in tangled strands. One of her arms stayed tucked to her body and the other lay out, riddled with bruises and scars with still fingers reaching for a hopeful lullaby at the edge of her memory. Her lower ribs were almost completely purple below her exposed breasts, parts of which had yellowing bruises that almost looked like the imprints of fingers. There were plenty of other wounds plain to see on her pale skin, but none to witness them. There were rocks here and there, mostly obscuring her from eyes that pay no attention to unusual details. This was a small town after all. Ordinary, plain...and mermaids? Their very existence was of myth and legend.
Even if they did exist out in the mysterious deep somewhere, they wouldn't wash up in Evanston, California.



 
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Name: Jamison von Gunther
Age: 17

General Appearance

Height: 6'1"
Weight: 189 lbs
Eyes: Emerald with a faint orange ring circling the iris (yes, I've seen this before, and it's beautiful!)
Hair: Short, kept black hair that's either made up messy or combed.

General Personality

Jamison is pretty laid back; however, he has a lot of ambition and drive to accomplish his goals. He's confident though his upbringing taught him how to be modest about it. He's extremely competitive and exalts the notion of being a team player. Jamison has a amiable disposition, which is somewhat rare with the jocks. Surprising to many, Jamison loves the disposition of the victorian gentlemen. Courteous with a manner of speech that exhumes a studied individual. At times, however, he can be a smart ass both socially, academically, and athletically.

Bios

Jamison has had a very average upbringing. Growing up in a rather well off middle class family, he hasn't had to work too hard for things, which his parents quickly rectified by instilling values of 'it pays to win'. At a pretty young age, Jamison found out he had an affinity for lacrosse and plays as a defender on his school team. The Evanston Spartans. He made captain his sophomore year, and the prospect of playing college lacrosse is a pretty high probability.

Being a child of an immigrant family, Jamison would be the first of his family to go to a college in the United States - his little sister following after him.

Hobbies

Lacrosse
Movies
Anything exercise related
Books
Socializing
Playing the Piano
Volunteering at the hospital

----

Jamison felt the sun slowly creep across his face. It was still early morning, but that was changing quite quickly. Feeling his heart fall into a brisk rhythm, he was out for his morning run. Evanston. It was a small town that afforded him the luxury almost everyone in the town. At times, he wished he were at Santa Barbara or Los Angeles instead, but the place had its charm. He also found his own getaway spots. Even though Evanston was small, there was no end to the drama that the girls at school bickered about endlessly. The jock wasn't all about that.

As his morning run continued onward, Jamison took out one of his earphones. The sound of the distant waves of the ocean filled his hearing. It filled him with a soothing sensation. Though being unable to see the bottom of the vast body of water terrified him, the tranquility it brought about him was indisputable.

Finally reaching his destination, Jamison came to a slow trot that eventually led to a fast paced walk. Lacing his hands together as he settled them on the back of his head, he breathed to get air into his lungs. Cardio was the single most important thing for his sport, Lacrosse. It'd been the first thing he'd ever been good at, which probably caused his parents to push him. However, they didn't need to prod too much. He loved the sport. It was truly a win-win situation.

Descending to the sandy part of the small beach, Jamison dropped his arms. He could feel the sweat from his practice lacrosse jersey evaporate in the pleasingly morning breeze. Making his way towards the ocean, he dipped his hands in the cool water as he grinned. Dipping his hands in the oceanic waves was a small ritual he had cultivated over the years. It served as a reminder and a benchmark: the reminder to overcome his fear of the water someday and that he had finished his morning run.

Air drying his hands, Jamison turned around to head on back, but someone - something - caught his eyes. Laying merely a few dozen feet away from him, his eyes caught fell upon a woman. No. A girl.

He cautiously made his way over as he tried not to look at her exposed body. It wasn't out of lust his eyes lingered upon her exposed torso and breasts, but the wounds that marred the girl's body took him unaware. The gills and the shimmering tail on the other hand ... that was a different matter altogether. Jamison wasn't sure how to deal with that one whatsoever.

"Miss?" he asked as he stood there not knowing what to do. Was the girl human? Maybe the mermaid thing was a costume. Maybe a costume party went bad for her? No. If there was a party, Jamison would've known about it. The girl's and his team weren't in the habit of excluding him. Taking off his jersey, he laid it over the girl's upper body. "I know. The stench is unpleasant. What happened? I have my phone. I can call for help."

Taking another quick glance at the tail and gills - up close - there was no way they were fake. They were too realistic. Getting up, Jamison made his way to the water. Cupping some salt water in his hands, he walked back and poured it on the girl's gills.

This is utterly crazy! A mermaid, Jamison? You think she's a mermaid? Like Ariel from 'The Little Mermaid'? My good man, you've utterly lost it entirely.
 
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Name: Marina

Age: 17

General Appearance:
Height: 5'1
Weight: 115 lbs
Eyes: cerulean with brown flecks
Hair: Straight, wispy and black. In the sunlight, it appears slightly blue

General Personality: Marina is a very strong individual. Though the knows how to keep herself safe, she can sometimes be reckless because of her wild spirit. She doesn't act much like a stereotypical princess would, but she takes her responsibilities seriously. She loves reading and learning new things as well as exploring. She is incredibly compassionate and kind, going out of her way to help people and trying to believe the best in everyone.

It was a long time before Marina began to wake and the process was slower given the fact that she didn't want to wake up. She wanted to believe it was all a nightmare and nothing bad had ever happened to her since she first went on land four years ago. Not to mention how she became more and more aware of the pain everywhere as she grew closer to consciousness. Even her skin burned with an unfamiliar sting because she'd been in the sun too long.

Just when she was sure things couldn't be much worse, stuck here and hardly able to move or even open her eyes, she heard noises...footsteps! She was gaining clarity in her foggy mind, trying to realize the urgency of the situation. Maybe if she stayed still, no one would see her? The footsteps came closer. This time with a low voice she couldn't make out the words to. Oh no. This one is male. And he has definitely discovered her. As she tried to open her eyes or move away or something! she felt a warm, wet cloth settle onto her vulnerable, sandy skin. What is it? What is he doing to her? Why does it smell so revolting? Marina began to shake slightly as her heartbeat took on an even faster pace than before. What's happening to her? Oh if only she could at least breathe properly! She caught bits and pieces of the stranger's speech but her right ear not buried in the sand was clogged with water and some words were too far to catch.

"- ----.The stench i- ---------- What happened? I ---- -- phone. I can ---- --- help."

Help? She tried to say something then, but nothing audible escaped her parched throat. Could he help her? He was human. Why would he want to help her?

Suddenly, a cold reprieve washed over her hips--her gills!--and Marina received the opportunity she needed. To a human, it would have looked positively unnatural. Her gills gaped and her chest expanded, and then as quick as she could manage, Marina exhaled in stuttering coughs out of her mouth, flickering her eyes open to the bright sun with clear pain and fear in her light eyes. Her ribs protested greatly to the coughing as excess water and drool hit the sand. Marina whimpered softly, she couldn't manage much more, but she tried to look up at he who seemed to be trying to help. Her head grew fuzzy and dizzy and with the bright sun--brighter than she had ever seen underwater-- behind him, most of what she saw was a tall, intimidating shadow. But he seemed young from what she caught. She didn't know if that was good or bad. Before he could decide whether to keep helping her or not, she took a scary chance and took all her effort to speak. Her throat was killing her and her lungs were overwhelmed and exhausted but she tried so hard to get him to understand.
"Please...pull...me..o-on........land." she whispered and coughed.
If she could look like him and breathe easier, maybe he'd help her further. He was her only chance. Her fingers gripped the sand in agony and her eyes struggled to stay open. She didn't know if she would survive this or not, but this strange human seemed like the only person in the whole world who could rescue this princess.

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His doubts vaporized like water on a hot summers day. Jamison flinched backwards as the mermaid's gills flared and the woman began to breathe. He could hardly believe his eyes. Jamison pinched himself hard. The girl was still there. What he saw was far too real to be a simple costume. No outfit or tattoo could carry out the actions that the girl had just done from simply splashing her with water. Plus, the water seemed to rejuvenate her in a way. For once, the lacrosse player was at a loss for words.

Hearing the girl - mermaid - whimper, Jamison pushed his astonishment to the back of his mind. He listened to her words - as agonized as they were - and simply nodded. Gingerly stepping towards her, he slid his arms underneath her body and hoisted her up gently. Slowly, he walked towards the cliff side. While the girl certainly wasn't heavy compared to how much he could lift, the weariness from his run left him ... drained. Judging that they were far enough from the water, Jamison slowly lowered her to the ground.

Unsure of what to do, assuming at this point would be foolish. "I ... can you understand me? I can call for help, but ..." Jamison looked at the girl's tail before looking back at her. "I'm not sure if bringing you to the hospital is such a grand idea. Not like this anyway. What happened to you? Did someone do this to you? Barbaric. I'm Jamison by the way."

At a loss for words, Jamison chuckled awkwardly as he placed his earphones and phone into his pocket. Never in a million years did he think he'd run into something like this on a morning run. Not at all. "Forgive me, but my knowledge in mermaids is rather limited," he said. "How can I help? More water? Maybe," Jamison blinked then quickly reached for his phone, "school. Of all the ..." Taking a deep breath, Jamison refocused on the issue at hand. "I certainly can't just leave you hear, can I?"​
 
Still blinking rapidly up at the stranger who finally seemed appalled or even scared of her, Marina was shocked--and painfully so--to feel his arms lift her up against him, revealing even more of her ghastly condition. Black spots showed up in her vision blocking the sun but exemplifying how much pain she was in. Her back was pressed against his arm and with her overly pale skin--now tinged slightly red with sunburn-- her deep bruises and sandy cuts became the only thing she knew for a moment. She hadn't seen him nod to her plea for help so the move was unexpected and terrifying. Her whole body vibrated with fear and a strange coldness that seemed to seep to her bones. Her tail showed patches of missing scales and hung limp and dripping as he walked away from the water she once called home. The slow pace he took made the walk seem interminable and she was too weak to do anything but lay her spinning head against his damp chest until he set her down again, breathing shallow bubbles of air down her parched throat.

Again the male spoke and his voice seemed in and out of focus, but she did her best to listen to his words and keep her mind off of the overwhelming injuries demanding attention so terribly. She caught bits and pieces and it wasn't too hard to decipher now that her body had decided to use its lungs. If this were not a life-or-death situation she would have already succumbed to the numbness of the unconscious state, but she had to hold on, at least long enough to dry.

A new, desperate panic roused her when she heard the word hospital. Her eyes flashed with fear for she knew that it meant doctors and human doctors would not be able to help her. Only hurt more. It was NOT a grand idea and her heart quickened to a pace she'd never known before. As afraid as she was of this boy who called himself Jamison, she was suddenly keenly aware of how utterly frightened she was of death. Limited knowledge on mermaids meant ignorance and ignorance nearly always leads to harm. And still, she couldn't bear the thought of him leaving. Even hearing the edge of the suggestion, Marina's throat tightened and she squeaked in protest. The image of her lying immobile in the sun, barely breathing and falling into a slow, agonizing death could only be worse if she was alone.

"no.."she whispered, wide eyes frantic and hardly able to see. "don't...leave..Ja-mis-son"
And knowing those words might be her last, Marina used the last of her strength to reach for him, try to hold him there before the blackness took over, but her fingers just managed to brush the side of his palm flat against the ground.
And with that, she was dragged into the depths of involuntary sleep, but at the same time, Marina's unique skill began to transform her. Having sufficiently dried in the sun and breeze since she was pulled from the ocean, her tail morphed and changed starting with a subtle glow beneath her scales. Her shining azure tail split down the middle at first, leaving two intact and scaly half-tails that shortened with the disintegration of her fins replaced by forming toes. They began to look more like legs then, internally creating bone where there had only been muscle and vertebrae and forming hairless human skin where scales retracted. Now left with wounded legs in a process that lasted only about 15 seconds, she looked like a normal, naked, gravely injured girl of seventeen with a large gash on her upper left thigh and patches of raw skin that looked like burns scattered about below her waist. Her ankles looked a bit swollen and...
she was the most vulnerable she had ever been in her life.
 
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Unsure of what to do, Jamison was surprised by the mermaid's touch. The hand was soft. Softer than any he'd ever felt. Leaving now would've been a grave mistake. There was only one option he could think of if the girl didn't want to go to a hospital. He couldn't blame her. The inquisitive minds of scientists would want to study her. If it was anything like the movies, that life would've been far worse than simply dying. Sighing, he got to his feet and ruffled his hair. His parents weren't going to like this one bit. Nor his sister. If anything, she'd probably rat him out. The little traitor.

Right as Jamison was about to pick the mermaid up and begin the long track home, his eyes widened in surprise. A shimmering light enveloped the mermaid's tail as the fin - and the scales - began to turn into a pair of human legs. Bedazzled by the spectacle, Jamison couldn't look away. Right at that moment, he was truly, utterly convinced that the mermaid was no longer some girl trying on costumes - realistic ones that was. Feeling his legs shake, Jamison had to sit down. If the mermaid was real, did that mean other creatures out there existed? Supernatural ones? A Kraken? What about those blood sucking vampires? Did they exist too? Jamison was never one for superstition, but with all things considered, he was rethinking his stance on things.

Managing to tear his eyes away from the mermaid's beautiful exposed body, Jamison got to his knees and slowly lifting the mermaid up. He took the jersey he draped her chest and pulled it over the girl's upper body. Thankfully, it reached down to just above her upper thigh. Height really paid off he thought to himself. Jamison chuckled.

"Listen, this is going to be very unpleasant," he said tentatively. Conscious of the fact that the girl was out cold, just talking out loud made this whole entire ordeal all the more bearable. "I'm going to hoist you up onto my back. I'm going to take you back to my house. If you won't go to the hospital, that's the only place I can think of. Leave you out here? Well, others will find you. I'm not entirely sure how they'll react. I'm a bit ... confounded with all of this." Gently hefting the girl onto his back, Jamison guided the mermaid's arms around his shoulders as he reached back and grabbed her thighs. "... You'll need to hold on. It'll be a bit till we get back."

As began the walk back, he chuckled to himself. Situating himself so his grip on her thighs was firmer, Jamison hunched forward a bit, so the mermaid's weight would naturally rest against his back. An unconscious person couldn't hold on after all, right? Common sense he thought to himself. Silently, he prayed that no one would see him carrying this unconscious girl. Rumors was the last thing he needed on his plate.

---

It was 7:30 when Jamison finally walked right into his middle class suburban house. He never ever considered himself sneaky, but fortune favored him. He made it to his room without running into his sister or parents. That was a first. On any other day, his mother and father would've been in the kitchen either yelling at the two siblings to get ready or simply preparing themselves for the day ahead. Jamison wasn't even sure how to explain this extraordinary situation to any of them. A bruised and battered girl barely clothed lying in his bed. That left a lot of room for misinterpretation.

Not really sure what to do, Jamison quickly went towards his drawers and pulled out a pair of white khaki fitted shorts, briefs, and a dark purple polo shirt. Setting them on the bathroom counter, he knew he didn't have time for a shower. Quickly changing after washing his face, he walked back into his room and frowned. Grabbing his rolling chair that rested at his desk, he brought it to rest at his bedside. He reached over and gave the mermaid a very gentle nudge on the shoulder. She was still out cold. He gave her another nudge. Nothing. At least the girl was breathing.

Sitting back, Jamison sat in silence. His room was quite odd for someone his age. While trophies, awards, and pictures of his lacrosse career were tastefully decorated around the bright collared walls, a significant portion of the space went to his desk and bookshelf. He had works ranging from George Orwell's 'The Time Machine' to more contemporary works of fiction. His friends teased him all the time, but surely everyone had their own differing hobbies. He knew he surely did.

Hearing a knock at the door, he heard the doorknob knock. "Jamison?" his mother'svoice came from the other side. "You're going to be late."

"A moment!" Jamison said as he quickly went to the door and gently pressed against it. Looking at his mom, he knew he couldn't leave the stranger in his room unattended. "I'm not feeling so well, mom."

"What's wrong? Did this just start?" his mom asked. "Why're you dressed?"

"It came on pretty sudden," Jamison said. "I came back from the run, got ready, but my stomach. It's aching."

His mom fixed him with a stare. "Well, change back into something comfortable and go back to sleep. I can't really stay with you. I've got work," she said. "Do you think you can manage? I've got to get your sister to school. I made breakfast. It's in the fridge, but I don't think you should eat it, if you're sick. We mi--"

"Mom. I think sleep will fix me right up," Jamison said. "Get going. I'll see you when you get back. Okay?"

"Right," Jamison's mom said. Reaching over, she placed a hand on Jamison's shoulder. "Feel better okay? I'll be back right when I get off work. I'll pick up your favorite treat too. Shoot, gotta run. Feel better darling."

"Thanks mom." Watching his mom walk back down the stairs, Jamison let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door. Things could've turned out so much worse. Walking to his wardrobe, he took out a pair of boxers, a lacrosse t-shirt, and some workout shorts. Walking back into the bathroom, Jamison quickly changed. Finished, he walked back out and sat back on his rolling chair. Closing his eyes, he stared into darkness as he twiddled his thumbs. "Just temporary, Jay. Just temporary."
 
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After transforming, Marina was only slightly going in and out of consciousness. Her human form wasn't as generally resilient to health concerns and she was now very dehydrated. Her eyes fluttered and the sensation of laying on her front with broken ribs assaulted her. At that, she blacked out again, hardly breathing the whole way to wherever she was being taken.
---
Again she woke slightly to a quiet male voice, smelling something bad surrounding mostly her upper body and lying on a very soft surface only scratchy on the parts of her covered in sand. She was still aching everywhere, in some places more than others, but she could breathe a little easier. Almost.
"Mm?" She whimpered, working on opening her eyes to figure out where she was. Had she heard Jamison? Or was this all a nightmare she was struggling to wake from?
She tried to move her tail, but her left leg twitched instead and she gasped at the sharp pain it shot through her from the large cut on that thigh. Her eyes shot open and she felt compelled to curl up in a scared, defensive ball but if she tried to move the agony would set in again. Her throat was so dry she could only take in raspy breaths of shock as she took in the space around her. And the fact that she had legs here. The only thing she saw that she could be sure about the name was books. On a large bookshelf. But things were a bit blurry so she couldn't read the spines. That's when she saw Jamison again. On a thing to sit on? A plain looking throne perhaps?

"Wh-where..?"
 
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Jamison's eyes were closed as he reflected on things in the confides of his room. He knew he should've skipped his run this morning. Read a book, watch a movie, catch up on homework. He should've done something like that instead of focusing so much on his sport. How could he say that? Though he loved the more quiet things in his life, lacrosse was his life. He wouldn't give it for anything. For now that was. It was his way to college. An athletic scholarship to a DI. That'd be a way to kick off the family legacy he thought to himself. He groaned to himself. The guys wouldn't let him live down his absence. They had a game in two days. Damn.

Hearing someone groan, Jamison opened his eyes. The mermaid - girl, whatever - was finally coming to. When her eyes roamed about and finally found him, Jamison merely smiled. He held up his hands in a placating manner. "You're in my room. I tried to be decent about settling you in," he said. Getting to his feet, Jamison walked back into his washroom. Finding his cup that he kept at his sink, he cleaned it out and filled it with water before heading back to his bed. "I'm not sure how much you remember, but I found you ashore on my morning run."

Gesturing toward the cup of water, he wondered if the girl was in any condition to drink. Mermaids still needed water he assumed. "Thirsty? Here," he said as he stood up. "I'd rather you not move. Your, um, bruises are really bad. Drink? Just nod or shake your head. You don't have to say anything if you can't."​
 
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Her rescuer gave her a smile, which at least told her she probably wasn't in immediate danger. But she hadn't been in a human body in years. She has to remember all about the feelings it brings and requirements she needs to follow in order to keep in it working condition. And in her dazed condition she could barely remember how she had even arrived here. In Jamison's..room.

She watched him walk away and out of sight past a door for a moment and she heard what sounded like a small waterfall a few times before he returned holding a...cup. Yes that's what it's called. he was closer now and didn't look so blurry. Even though she felt the uncomfortable sensation of water in her ears--this she recalled from last time-- she heard him enough to vaguely picture him crouching beside her on the beach with the morning sun making him look like an angel...He's so...handsome. For a human.

It was just lucky that the universal gesture for yes and no survived the transition from land to sea because otherwise she'd have had no idea what to do to nod or shake her head. But she did need water. There just happened to be no mechanism on the cup to prevent her from touching the water to her lips. She would explain that he should pour it into her mouth to prevent her from growing a tail again but her throat did not feel at all capable for that. So she just nodded and opened her mouth a bit to let her drink. The cool water--which felt divine to drink for once--soaked her upper lip and as she cleared her throat to, first of all, thank him for everything, her legs glowed and fused themselves back together to form her tail again, damp and ready to swim until it dried again.
"Oh..thank you." Marina winced as she felt a few more scales detach from her wounds. "You--saved my life." She whimpered and smiled through the pain of breathing with cracked ribs. "As much as I would like to--keep from inconveniencing or shocking you further, I require more--of your generous assistance. Please. Are you at all talented in--healing? The sand must not be helpful to open wounds. Do you perhaps--ouch--keep a.hmm. a bath? In your dwelling?I believe that might further-my chances of survival. Please." she paused and blinked, remembering two things of great importance she had almost forgotten to tell him, even though her face was red from holding back painful noises. "Please excuse my tail. It grows when I get wet. Forgive me for my delayed introduc--tion, but you may call me Marina. If you wish. Kind..Jamison."
 
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When the mermaid nodded, Jamison brought the cup to her lips and gently tilted it back. He couldn't remember the last time he did something like this. Did he ever? Out of all of his activities, nursing people back to health wasn't something he could boast about until now. If the mermaid could be considered human that is. A part from the tail he'd seen earlier, however, she'd fit right in. What else resided under the sea? Was there a Spongebob? Jamison scoffed. He sure hope there wasn't. A talking sea sponge and a mischievous star fish was something the scientific world was better off without.

Tilting the cup back up, the room reflected a faint light. The mermaid's legs were becoming a tail again. The scales and everything were coming through, and he was truly convinced he was dealing with something other than human. Eyes not moving from the tail, he registered the croaky voice. So she could speak English he thought to himself. Did the mer-people - he laughed at the name - speak English underwater as well? Or maybe telepathy? He had books about Atlantis. Fictional and real. In them, they certainly did not speak English. There were so many questions coupled in his moment of shock. But first, he had to make sure this Marina didn't die from dehydration.

"Well, nice to meet you Marina," he said. "My magic shaman powers are limited. But not ineffective. I'm quite capable with cleaning wounds, then using the winning Neosporin-bandage combo. Works all the time for ... smaller wounds. As for a bath," Jamison nodded to his bathroom, "I have you covered. Want to take one? Do mermaids, your people, like it cold or hot?"​
 
Though she was having trouble breathing and speaking, she could hear him just fine, despite the bit of water in her right ear that kept bothering her. But being able to hear him did nothing for her ability to understand what he meant. She didn't remember what the word 'shaman' meant thought she was sure she'd read it once before. She brightened up at his assertion that he was adept at cleaning wounds, but then got confused again when he spoke of a Neosporin and a 'combo'. Marina blinked again at how fast he was able to speak english, but did her best to keep up and smile gratefully when he offered a bath. What his people considered to be cold or hot temperatures, she had no idea so she just decided cold would be better. She would probably benefit more from cold water, especially on her bruised ribs.

Marina gulped and tried to raise herself up a bit, but it was clear she wouldn't get there on her own as she promptly fell back onto the mattress without even sitting up. "C-cold I suppose...but I would not be able to travel there myself,..unfortunately." she let out in a breath in short gasps, face red and eyesight blurry. "I am sorry. I did not intend...on becoming such a nuisance to a--most kind stranger."
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