FFAAU Arc One: broken bottles, bitter beer
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Before Martyn can yell, he’s engulfed by the water, seized by the ankle of the same sandal that had broken its surface just before. The bottle, no longer in Martyn’s hand, hits the ocean and sinks. Down. Down. Down. Down.
He breathes, and all he finds himself breathing is not oxygen. Something so cold and salty that it’s numbing. Drowning his taste buds, rushing into his chest like a burst dam, staining his throat with something rough and icy, yet so unbearably burning.
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“Nothin’ too crazy!" Sausage replies. "What about you? What’ve you been out there doin’?”
“Me?” Martyn asks, as if it’s not incredibly obvious. “Well I mean, I guess you could say I’ve-” Been drinking alone? Nearly drowned? Stolen a Merling’s crown, and, heck found out Merlings were real in the first place, and how they could somehow gain legs, and somehow he managed to befriend one? And all without dying, for that matter? “-been busy,” Martyn concludes. “Workin’ on my boat. Yeah. The usual.”
// aka martyn has just FUCKED SCOTT OVER!!!
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