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The only sounds accompanying me home tonight are the sounds of my tail dragging in the dirt and my torso flopping in said dirt. I'm sure I could drag myself home with less trouble if I'd just pull my self hand-over-hand, but yanking myself up and forward with both hands at once is more of a workout. I might as well get the exercise while I'm stuck, right? As Mama Wakasagijoo always said, 'Quite your complaining, little lady! I ask you to do ONE thing around here, and you can't even do the dish-'
I don't think I'm thinking of the right saying...
Of course, I WOULDN'T be stuck if a certain fuzzy SOMEBODY who's name shall not be named didn't go and get herself DRUNK and CRASH MY WHEELCHAIR INTO A FREAKING TREE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREAKING VILLAGE ON THE O P P O S I T E S H O R E O F T H-
Getting mad is just dehydrating me. I have a half gallon of water on me, but I can only soak myself so many times before I'm in real trouble...
Admittedly, breathing with lungs is REALLY difficult, but I could probably survive for a while without water. But the dreaded sunburn when morning comes back around...
The lake is at least a mile from here. I'm pretty sure I've stripped some scales from my privates already, and I haven't even been dragging myself for longer than an hour...
Before I can even entertain the notion of crying in frustration, I hear a sound!
I turn and drag myself as loudly and noisily into the bushes beside the road as I can!
Quickly. I meant quickly. But I was also loud. I wasn't quick. I'm never quick on land.
But that's not important! Right now I can hear someone coming closer! I cover my mouth and nose to stifle my breathing. I calm my heart, slowing the rate of my blood circulation. I focus on my own heartbeat, slowing as I calm.
I am silence.
I am shadow.
I am invisi-
"Who n' their right mine' leaves a perf'ctly good fish lyin' abou' in th' bushes?" called the voice, moments before a lukewarm hand wraps around the base of my mostly exposed tail.
I hate my tail so much.
With a mighty YANK, and a not-so-mighty squeak I'm ripped out of the bushes. I turn to look at the face of whoever it is that's probably going to eat me. I sound calm about this, but it's one of those calms that comes around when you're scared out of your wits and it's showing on your face but you can still think somewhat straight. I don't know what they call that, but I'm feeling that and maybe if I FOCUS on that focus, I can think of a way to esca-
Despite all the thoughts whirling in my head, the pale girl holding my tail just stares at me. Taking a closer look, I find I've been grabbed by a sailo-
SAILORS!? IN GENSOKYO!?
SAILORS EAT MERMAIDS!
That's what Grandmama Wakasagikogo always said! 'Always eat your vegetables, young ladies, or a big scary sailor will come along and drag you onto a SHIP and then they'll FLAY YOU ALIVE and EAT YOU!'
I'd always thought that sailors were just a myth, an old fish tale made up to scare little mergirls into falling in line! And yet the legends are true, given proof in the form of physical contact!
I think I'm gonna' cry...
The sailor drops my tail, which causes it to flop painfully into the dirt. Why is everything up here pain?
To my horror, I let out a pitiful sob before I can stop myself. To even further my horror, the pirate lunges for me oh my god he-
Before I can do anything more than recoil and whimper some more, a gentle hand strokes my tears away.
"Ah, lass, hold on t' yer tears. There be noh need for 'em. I wohn' hurt yea'."
The sailor tries to reassure me in her weird sailor accent, but it sounds so much like how Papa Wakasagioja used to make a funny accent that it made me think that maybe Papa had a run in with a sailor once and that's where he got the story, but now I really miss him and wanna' ask him if it was true and-
"I WANNA' GO HOME!"
I can hold it in no longer, and let forth the entirety of my pent up frustration!
"My wheelchair is in ruins! I haven't had a single drink! My tail hurts! Kagy is such a jerk! I do to have a real job! I miss my family! I've never been to France! I-"
The sailor interjects.
"I've a bohx o' mohchi fer gud lasses who dry their eyes!"
I stop my rant without another thought, save one.
As the apparently-not-so-scary sailor bridal carries me to the lake, I can't help but wonder if it was wise of me to entrust my care to a NOTORIOUS MERMAID EATER for sweets, but then I remember it was mango flavored, so it's okay.
"Naow, why dontcha' tell ol' Cap'n Murasuh yer nehm, wee lass?"
What did she call me?
"I'm not wee! I mean, I'm not little! I'm the biggest of a small species, so I'm actually big!"
The sailor laughs heartily. HEARTILY! Ohhhh, the NERVE of this woman, addressing a woman of my standing like-
"A'ighty then, 'big' lasseh... Why dohn'cha tell meh if yer nehm matches yer mighteh size, oh queen of th' deep?"
I puff out my (rather magnificent) chest in pride. And it is only RIGHT that the sailor should stare at my juicy-
Before I can think of the implications of a predator staring at my juiciest bits, I introduce myself.
"I, as you may know, am Wakasagihime, Youngest daughter of the Wakasagi clan, a proud race of Bluefin Mertuna! Wielders of the Shiniest and Prettiest shinies in all of Merdom! I would that you treat me with the proper measure of RESPECT, thank you very much!"
The sailor stifles a laugh as though I won't hear it!
"Oh, th' grehtest of shinehs, eh? Noh' 'the mohst lovely ohf maid'ns' or sohmethin' mohre grand n' ohn th' nohse?"
It takes me a moment to mentally sift through the thick accent. I figure out that I've just been called the fairest maiden at about the same time the sailor did, as her pale face turns beet red. Possibly redder than my own, as I'm certain I'm probably redder than I've ever been. Without being smashed, I mean. But I get pretty red in the face when I DO get smashed, and I'm pretty sure I'm getting pretty close to getting that red. Of course, none of that matters right now because I may have just woo'ed one of my own natural predators with my stunning beauty, said predator/potential suitor now holding me in a bridal carry and I am now INTENSELY aware of all contact between me and her, like the fact that the hand under my tail is, despite being lukewarm, surprisingly soft.
Light, soft, even, dare I say it, fluffy. As though my poor, abused scales were being treated to the kisses of a dove's down feathers. If her hand is this soft, how much more so would the rest of her be? How is it even POSSIBLE to be this soft?
Is it even possible for the rest of her to be this soft? Triton's beard, it IS! Her cheek feels like the lightest of cotton candy pillows. Fluffy and bouncy and ever-so delightful to simply squeeze, even slightly... I wonder what she taste li-
"M-m-miss mermaid? I-Is something wrong? You're getting really c-clo-"
As the sailor shakes her head, I realize that not only was I stroking her cheek gently, but I was close enough for her to bite me if she wanted to! Or even, instead of bite, ki-
The sailor, having regained enough of composure to speak, picks her accent right back up.
"Oi, lass! We've noht knohn each ohther f'r mohr 'n hahf hour! Me hahrt's nah readeh!"
I, Wakasagihime, have managed to gain the upper hand against my potential predator! It's just like Grandpapa Wakasagiuesama always used to say, "A pretty darlin' like yerself should be able to weasel out of jus' about anything if you just show off yer perfect pearls! Now show granpappy yer perfect pearls, or you're getting laundry duty tonight!"
However, I don't know how I would go about getting back to the lake if I were to strip right here.
I shall question the oddly soft ghost for details, answers and things-about-herself, that I may, instead of being eaten, convert and befriend the scary sailor!
But what to ask?
[ ] "Why are you so...
- [ ] Soft?"
- [ ] Fluffy?"
- [ ] Perfect?"
[ ] "Why is there a Sailor in land-locked Gensokyo?"
[ ] "May I stroke you? You feel... pleasant..."
[ ] "You have to stroke me now! That way, we're even!"
[ ] "You're not going to eat me, are you?"
[ ] "If you're not ready, then... I'll let you take me, first."
[ ] The FISH is at the advantage here! We must TAKE HER before she can tell us to STOP/EAT US!
[ ] WRITEFAG, GET BACK TO THE REGULAR STORY!
Konpaku Youmu's blade split her thumb cleanly. The blood weld nicely. Oh, so very nicely.
Stifling the laugh she felt rising, she sat motionless. All the pretty fools, trying to do too much with their lives. They were all so annoying, weren't they? The hermit was doing nothing of interest at the moment. But the fish? Oh, the EXERTION. She could feel the spring growing within' her...
But to harvest such thick fruits before they were ready would be a waste of fruit, even if you were to split them clean in half and roast them...
Mmmhmhmhmhm, yes, anymore than three things at once... That should be enough lovely spring welling at once. If the fish tried to do more than three things at once, her head would leave her shoulders and her breast would decorate the gardener's room.
FILLER IS FUN! In other news, I have no fucking clue how to write lewd, so I'll give you guys the opportunity to help out by voting!
Or I COULD just get back to plate stick fellatio. Option's up there, guys.
Enjoy this little detour!