Archive of Our Own

1 (2009, 10 Years Pre-CTHL)

Sunlight glittered across the ocean's surface, the arhythmic crashing of waves providing a chorus to the creaking steps of two travelers along the docks. They were dressed similarly, both in simple retail work uniforms.

The gift shop was an easy, brisk walk ahead—nestled comfortably between two stores, one a dollar store and the other for selling antiques—but the men chose to take their morning trek slow. A good reminder to relish in the beauty of nature, Joe decided, though he knew Bdubs had other reasons, displayed openly as the other man affixed his eyes to the open water.

"Still keepin' an eye out for interesting fish?" Joe questioned.

"Of course," Bdubs replied, punctuating his statement with an animated wave. "If I take my eyes off it for one second I might miss something!"

"You've been saying the same thing for years now—doesn't it seem like the right time to, y'know, change tactics?"

"And risk not—no, I'm going to be patient." Bdubs crossed his arms. "Mama didn't raise no quitter."

"Did she raise someone who sticks with ideas that're not working?" Joe pressed, his lighthearted amusement coming through in an upward inflection. "Maybe if you don't, like, look so hard, luck will just find you."

"As if anyone's just that lucky," Bdubs scoffed, a disbelieving laugh behind it. He shook his head, a glance made to his watch—out of habit more than anything, Joe knew. His expression shifted, though, and he grumbled, "Oh, shoot."

"What is it?"

"I just—I forgot I said I'd help Tango with a thing today."

Joe shot him a curious look. "Can't that wait 'til later?"

With a shake of his head, his coworker insisted, "I need to sleep after work, so no." He plastered on a smile, adding, "But it won't take long! Bdubs perfect redstone never fails."

Joe wondered, knowing Tango, what kind of guinea pig situation his friend had signed himself up for. He'd need to ask about that later, certainly, but for now he just offered back a smile. "See ya at work then, Bdubs. Have fun."

In parting, Bdubs called out, "Yep!"

His company having scampered back toward the main residential area, Joe gave one last smiling pass over the horizon before—scratch that. Near the docks, a humanoid form blatantly stuck out from the water—a teenage boy, it looked like. He tilted his head curiously but didn't otherwise move, to Joe's surprise.

"Howdy there," said Joe.

Only silence answered him for a long moment before the boy forced out, "Um. Hi." He turned his gaze away, lifting an arm from the water to nervously rub the back of his neck. A fin protruded from his forearm, Joe noticed. "Cool…" The mer gestured vaguely to around his eyes. "...whatever those are."

"My glasses?" Upon receiving a nod in response, he slid them off, looking them over before offering them out. "They are pretty cool, I have to agree," he reckoned. "Do you wanna try 'em on? They're not prescription."

Without the green filter over his vision, the man picked out the golden yellow of that fin clearly, as well as the brown of this young mer's eyes, alight with wonder at the opportunity presented to him. He waded forward, tentative as Joe dropped to a knee then shifted to sit.

The mer hesitated. "You're sure I can?" 

"Well, I wouldn't take them off if I didn't intend to follow through with the offer, would I?"

"True…" he ceded, a mere heartbeat of pause before he snatched the glasses, commenting as he peered through them, "Whoa. Everything's green."

"What'd you expect?" Joe laughed. "That's pretty par for the course with green lenses."

"How do you live like this?" The mer squinted at him. "You just see everything green all the time?"

Joe quirked an eyebrow. “You live underwater—don’t you see everything tinged in blue down there?” 

“I—” The mer blinked at him, realization dawning on his face. “Oh my gosh, I never thought about that. I just thought that was how things looked.” He shook his head. “How many things that I think are blue are actually… not?”

“Well, if you believe it’s blue and you’ve never seen any evidence to the contrary, who’s to say those things aren’t blue?” Joe mused. “I mean, we really only know things as what they are because someone else decided to call ‘em that.” He glanced down at his conversation partner as he finished his thought. The teenager reached up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, shifting his position in the water. 

“Yeah, that—that makes total sense,” he replied uncertainly as he moved to hand Joe back his glasses. “No, it really doesn't, actually.”

Joe bit back a chuckle. “All I’m saying is that your reality is how you perceive it, and no one can take that away from you—” he paused, realizing he didn’t know the mer’s name. He raised a questioning eyebrow, prompting the boy to add his name. 

He briefly wondered, did mers have names? No one really knew anything concrete about the mers who were rumored to live nearby; it was generally accepted that something was strange about their little town, but the legends couldn’t agree on what. 

He supposed this conversation was revolutionary in a way. Bdubs’s face when he heard about this was probably going to be priceless.

“Oh, uh, Jimmy,” the mer introduced himself after a moment’s hesitation. 

“Jimmy.” The other nodded in confirmation. “Well, no one can take away your reality, Jimmy,” Joe said. “We all live according to our own truths, that’s the nature of humankind, or—” he paused. “Merkind? Did I get that right?”

Jimmy nodded. “Yeah, merkind, we’re mers—I’m a mer,” he stammered, shaking his head as he seemingly snapped back to his senses. “Oh, I don’t know if I was meant to reveal that.” Joe tilted his head to the side inquisitively as Jimmy waved out a frantic hand. “If you intend to murder us, you never met me.”

Joe chuckled. “Lucky for you, I am a staunch non-supporter of murdering people—or mers. Or anyone, unless they really deserve it but even then, a good threat usually does the trick on its own.”

Jimmy relaxed slightly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Good,” he said. “That’s good. I don’t want to be responsible for the destruction of Meris Hollow.”

“Meris Hollow?” Joe parroted. Jimmy froze.

“...You know what, I’m just going to stop talking now,” he said, grimacing. 

“Hey now, don’t worry. Look, I’m Joe, born and raised in Aurecove, and I’m not gonna do anything to your… home?” he guessed. “The people from this town—we’re an eccentric bunch but none of us mean any harm to our mer friends. You guys are just livin’ here too, same as us.”

Jimmy bit his lip, before tentatively swimming forward. “This town is called Aurecove?” he asked. 

“Yep.” Joe nodded, spreading his hands wide. “Originally named for our golden shores and golden personalities,” he said, slanting him a grin. 

The mer squinted at the shoreline. “Those don’t look very golden,” he pointed out. 

“And technically, the prefix for gold doesn’t have the 'r' or 'e,' but that’s the story we go by,” Joe replied, shifting his weight from one side to the other as he recalled the town’s history. “They say the first humans here originally arrived along a trade route and were drawn in by Aurecove’s bountiful waters. They befriended the local sea spirits—or merfolk, I suppose they must’ve been—and they helped get the town started by helping ‘em out fishing.”

Jimmy tilted his head curiously. “I’ve never heard of that before,” he replied. “All I’ve been told about humans is that we should stay away from them in case you try to murder us or something.”

"Now, that, I've never heard of," Joe noted, "so we're in similar boats."

"So it's not actually commonplace to kill mers on the spot?"

Joe laughed, almost in disbelief. "Clearly not, since you're still alive," he pointed out.

"Well, I don't know," Jimmy defended his position, "I know you said you're not on board with killing things, but that doesn't mean that's the case for everyone! Maybe other people you know like to kill mers, I wouldn't—there's no way I'd know!"

"Well, I can tell you with certainty that no one I know would even think about hurting y'all," he assured him.

“Huh,” Jimmy muttered, a contemplative look crossing his face. “That’s good to know, at least.”

A short silence befell the space, and Jimmy shifted in the water, a nervous flick of his tail sending more water than either expected splattering onto the dock. “Oh—sorry,” the mer apologized quickly. “Didn’t mean to splash you.”

“It’s fine,” said Joe, looking over the darkened dots on his jean leg with a shake of his head. “If you’re particularly remorseful about it, I wouldn’t be opposed to a quick question as reparations, if that’s alright by you.”

Jimmy made his hesitation apparent, but slowly, he considered it. “What kind of question?”

“Why’d you end up here by the docks?” he inquired, adding to elaborate upon his curiosity, “I would think you’d stay in deeper waters, if you wanna avoid being seen.”

“I—well, I was—uh.” Jimmy threw a backward glance into the water, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m kind of… skipping class?” He broke into guilty attempts at explaining himself after receiving a look of disapproval. “I just—it’s not my thing—I’d rather be out here treasure hunting. There’s a lot more in it for me—I found a Mending book last week! It was nearby here, actually.”

Joe quirked an eyebrow. “You mean… you’re skipping school?” A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth before he processed the implication. He shook his head—it wasn’t right of him to enable such behavior, even if the joke was low-hanging fruit—and in a chiding tone, added, “Young man, you need to attend class.”

“But—”

“There’s plenty of time for other things, but your education is invaluable.”

A conflicted expression—a blatant disagreement between his teenage distaste for authority and the shame of being told off by a respected figure—colored the mer’s face. He stumbled over excuses, burbling unintelligibly as he sank his lower face into the water, embarrassed. 

“Get going, Jimmy,” Joe urged. “See you again sometime, alright?”

He nodded, a drawn-out and muffled, “Okay,” bubbling to the water’s surface before he lifted his head. “Didn’t expect to get a lecture—or, multiple—today…”

“We all need a good lecture from time to time—even me,” Joe chuckled. His attention was pulled aside thereafter, a shout down the road announcing Bdubs’s return. “You—oh.” When he glanced back, Jimmy was gone.

“I’m back!”

Joe rose from his half-seated position, waving slightly. “Welcome back,” he greeted him. “That was fast.”

“Yeah.” Bdubs huffed as he came to a stop, crossing his arms. “Turns out he just wanted someone to hold a fire extinguisher nearby while he worked out some—some technical problem, I don’t know.”

“Suppose he sorted that out quicker knowing there wasn’t any risk of a technical fire,” Joe surmised.

Bdubs hummed, annoyed. “Well he could have asked someone else for that. I expected to be doing redstone!”

The only acknowledgment Joe gave of that was a short laugh, moving on as he thought aloud, “Reminds me, we should make sure we’re up to date on our fireproofing.”

This seemed to spark an idea for Bdubs, snapping his fingers and exclaiming, “I’m gonna invest in a whole stock of fire extinguishers for Wet Dirt!”

“Still sold on that being the name?”

“Yes, of course!” Bdubs fired back, almost offended. “It’s a perfect name! It’ll be the best place in town once it’s built, believe you me!”

“Speaking of wet things, I saw a neat fish after you left.”

“What kind?”

“Unique kind. Rare kind—half human,” Joe noted, fighting a laugh seeing his friend’s face drop.

The man gasped. “No you did not.”

2 (2013, 6 Years Pre-CTHL)

“See you tomorrow, Iskall!” Stress called, her exhaustion creeping into the cheer she wore. She waved behind her, the jingling bell of the front door prompting her to turn and push it open, freeing herself from her shift at that breath of outdoor air. She released a heavy sigh, rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes in preparation to drive home.

The car park was all but abandoned, home only to her and her coworkers’ cars—a few others filled spots toward the back, but those weren’t for customers, just the most convenient place to park for the whole shopping strip. Technically, she should report that, but she was prone to doing the very same.

Rumor had it that the geezers at town hall were thinking of renovating the whole shopping district, but no matter how many years passed claiming that, it never happened. Still, despite it all, the same dollar store stood here; the same gift shop; the same local clothes shop. Nothing in Aurecove ever really changed, Stress readily accepted.

Well—she supposed that Bdubs’s new place was a change, but that had been in construction for years. It didn’t feel new.

Come to think of it, Stress considered, maybe she deserved a nice treat before heading home, since the café was still open. Plus, it was pretty close… just a short jaunt.

Oh, what the hell. Might as well.

Shoving her keys into her pocket, she shifted directions, further toward the square. Her smile renewed, the woman turned squinted eyes toward the sky, then down toward the far off horizon line. As she did, her gaze caught on a figure breaching the water’s surface. She might have been able to dismiss him as a human at a glance if not for the spiky green fin tracing the length of the mer’s spine, smaller ones along his forearms. 

Even if life got monotonous, she couldn’t deny that this town was just amazing. Every time she thought she knew its every intricacy, something like this would come along to prove she didn’t.

“Oh my god,” she squeaked, repeating that exclamation a few more times as she rushed across the road and toward the docks. “Hello?!” Stress greeted, waving down the figure she saw in the water, tail fin peeking out of the water as he seemingly prepared to dive. “Your tail! You—you’re a mermaid! Hi, mermaid! This is so cool! I’ve wanted to meet a mermaid my whole life!”

The mer in question—a brunet with a streak of seaweed green—froze and stared at her with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. Now that she was closer, she could see small fin-like structures matching the green of his spine and arm fins poking out from beneath his hair. He opened and closed his mouth as if to speak, casting quick, nervous glances into the water.

“Don’t leave! I have so many questions—hope you don’t mind some questions?” She crouched, holding onto the edge of the dock so that she could lean her body forward without risk of falling. A lock of brown hair fell in front of her face but she disregarded it in favor of questioning the mermaid. “What’s your name, first off? I’m Stress.”

“Uh—Beans,” the mer answered shortly, gesturing lightly behind himself. “Look, it’d be lovely to stay and chat, but—”

“That’s a funny name,” Stress noted, laughing. “Do all mermaids have funny names like that?”

“No, and—” he cut off, suddenly frowning as he glanced over at a nearby rock behind him. He opened his mouth, presumably about to say something before deciding against it. 

Perhaps he was nervous about speaking to her, she thought. Well, that was okay—she could do the talking for both of them until he warmed up to her. 

“Oh, y’know, my friend met a mermaid a few years ago!” Stress exclaimed. “I wonder if you know each other, hm.”

Beans didn’t immediately react to the question, initially muttering something under his breath before turning back to her. He cleared his throat loudly and in a strangely pointed manner, replied, “That’s interesting. We’re not usually in the area—it’s kind of a rule. That all mers know. And are stupid if they don’t follow.”

Stress tilted her head inquisitively. “Aren’t you technically breakin’ it yourself then?” she asked. 

He sputtered. “I am the exception because I know what I’m doing,” he said, stressing the last part with another sidelong glance at the rock. 

She laughed. “Well, alrighty then.” She hummed in thought. “Yeah I think the mermaid Joe mentioned seemed young. I think he had yellow scales? I dunno how helpful that is—is that a common tail color?” Another thought occurred to her, making her gasp. “Wait, how many different tail colors are there? Are there, like, magenta mermaids?” Her mind was populated by a stream of questions—did the colors of their tails mean something? Did they come in different shapes like real fish tails?

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of Beans slapping the water with his tail, sending a spray of droplets onto the nearby rock. He wore a flat look on his face. “Oh! Sorry, got lost in my head a bit,” she said, before taking note of the appearance of his tail now that it was more clearly visible. “Your tail’s really gorgeous, by the way, love how the green matches your hair streak.”

He stared at her for a second before replying, “Uh, yeah, thanks.” A sound that Stress couldn’t quite place but given the time of year, was probably some sort of bird, rang out. She glanced around in search of the creature.

Beans waved his hands, catching her attention again. “I haven’t met anyone with… magenta scales—but there are lots of kinds of mers—none as great as me, of course.” He flicked his tail toward the rock again, showing off his glistening scales. “And yeah, some mers believe different scale colors say things about their mer. For instance, golden-scaled mers are much too stubborn for their own good.” He huffed, leaning back and casting a distracted glance toward the rock again. He muttered, “Oh for the love of—okay that’s it, I’m—” 

She let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, that’s hilarious—what other colors are there? I’m sure there are a bunch that look lovely underwater—” Her eyes widened as another topic popped into her mind. “Wait, can you breathe down there, in the water? Do you have gills or are you more like dolphins?” She gasped. “Do you get to hang out with dolphins? Tell me you hang out with dolphins, they’re so cute—I’d love to swim with them.”

Beans blinked at Stress, slowly drifting backwards as she stared expectantly. “Y’know, they—it’s, uh—” He paused, as if in deep thought. “I do not hang out with dolphins,” he settled on saying. “I don’t get along with ‘em.”

“Really? But they’re so sweet!”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “How many times have you even seen a dolphin?”

Stress looked aside for a moment as she considered the question. “Oh, hmm. A few times, I think. Maybe three times?” she answered, finding the mer a considerable distance further away by the time her gaze was back on him.

“What was that? Didn’t hear you, sorry,” he shouted back at her.

“Like three ti—oh, why don’t you just swim closer!”

“Can’t do that—the current, it’s taking me away,” he returned in an unconvincing deadpan, drifting behind the rock he’d been splashing. That same bird-like noise from earlier sounded but he shouted over it, “Far, far away!”

“There aren’t currents like that this close to the shore, silly,” she chuckled. “Why are you swimmin’ so far out?”

“I’m so far away. I can’t hear anything anymore. Oh no.” He feigned disappointment, waving a hand dramatically. “Might as well head out now. Y’know, follow the current. Go where the water takes me, as us mer…maids… tend to.”

“Hey!” the woman laughed. “You can just leave if you have to!”

“Oh thank goodness.”

Stress cracked up, shaking her head. “It was nice to meet you! Sorry I kept you from—I don’t know—whatever mermaids do!” 

“Bye!” he yelled, then dove back underwater. For a brief moment, she could’ve sworn she heard a second voice drowned out by the splash, but she supposed it might’ve been the same bird from earlier since no one else seemed to be around. 

She sighed, thinking back on the interaction. The worry was there that perhaps she came on too strong, but nevertheless, she harbored more excitement toward her experience than she did fear of her shortcomings. A pep in her step, she hurried toward Bdubs’s café, a story on her tongue and a smile spread across her lips.

Warm light painted Wet Dirt's terracotta walls caramel, and even through the ambient chatter of a dusk café night, a calm, cozy feeling washed over the woman. It always felt like home in a place like this—home, so much, that she felt no awkwardness striding through as though she owned it.

"Bdubs!" Stress plopped down on one of the barstools, half-spinning shortly before addressing the proprietor, ordering, “A milkshake, please."

The man stared expectantly for a few long seconds before asking, “Right, sure, but what flavor?”

“Chocolate," she replied, laughing out a disappointed sigh. "I order the same thing anytime I order something—shouldn’t you have this memorized by now?”

“No! I have, like, seven bajillion other things to memorize, the—” he cut himself off, half turned toward the shake machine but eyes out, still, as he addressed a new customer. “Oh, Etho! Do you want your usual?”

Although she had scarcely met him, any new face in Aurecove had whispers spread about them, Etho being no exception. He seated himself just beside Stress, offering her a short wave, which she returned but not without a huff. A pointed gesture between the two men emphasized her scoff. "Oh, so you have his order memorized but not mine?" she decried, laughing. "He just moved here!”

“I’m his favorite, that’s why,” Etho claimed. “It’s favoritism.”

“Is not!” argued Bdubs, burning red. “He just visits a lot! I would never engage in favoritism. I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like that.”

He busied himself preparing drinks, grumbling to himself and refusing to respond to Stress and Etho until he had their drinks ready—which, by then, they’d abandoned their teasing in favor of a conversation with one another.

“You know, when I was walking over, I saw a mermaid. Like, a real one!” Stress told him.

Etho hummed curiously. “Really? I thought that was just a myth.”

“Oh no, they’re very real,” she insisted. “They always have been.”

The white-haired man quirked an eyebrow but didn’t respond with words, prompting Stress to go on.

“So anyway, I was—oh, thank you, here—” She paused, fishing for her wallet and handing her card to Bdubs as he slid her shake over. She took a sip of the drink, letting the sweet flavor settle on her tongue as the conversation continued.

“What’s this about mers?” Bdubs pressed, a curious eye affixed to their conversation.

“She saw one,” Etho told him, to which the woman nodded.

“In the flesh! Said his name was Beans, and—honestly, I doubt that was his real name. But maybe I just don’t understand mermaid society. Seems like they got a lot goin’ on down there,” she said, thinking back to the information he’d given that she thought probably was accurate. 

“You saw a mer,” Bdubs repeated, unamused. “You—” He sighed, handing her card back. Through gritted teeth, he replied, “I’m happy for you. So happy. Maybe someday I’ll get the same chance."

Etho rested his chin on his hand, smiling. “Aw, don’t be jealous, B—”

“I’m not jealous!”

“You’re jealous.”

Stress cackled watching them bicker, stirring her drink slowly with her straw. She’d known this was the kind of reaction she’d get. It was priceless.

As the evening drew on, Stress watched the sky darken through the café window. “I hope I’ll get a chance to meet another mer,” she sighed, propping her head up with her cheek pressed to a fist. By now, her milkshake had been reduced to straggler bits of whipped cream at the bottom of her glass, and the sugar crash was beginning to hit her. “Or meet Beans again—honestly, he seemed like an interesting fellow.”

Etho shrugged. “I mean, he probably lives around here, right? There’s a good chance it’ll happen. You’ve just gotta get luckier than Bdubs here,” he said, jabbing a finger at their friend. 

“Hey!” 

She giggled, a grin worming its way across her face. Yeah, she thought. There was always a chance she’d get lucky again—that was the beauty of living in a town like this. Eventually, it’d surprise her again. 

3 (2017, 2 Years Pre-CTHL)

Pearl hurried down the street, her leash and dog collar—notably and unfortunately not currently attached to a dog—jingling as she speed-walked, calling out, “Tilly?” She bent down to peer around one of the hedges lining the Wet Dirt’s lawn. With the sun not quite over the horizon line, it was still fairly dark out, and she strained to see through the morning mist.  

“Pearl?” She startled and turned to find Bdubs standing behind her, raising a questioning eyebrow. “What brings you to this fine café this morning?” 

She cleared her throat, straightening up. “I was takin’ Tilly on a walk around Aurecove and she wormed her way out of her collar,” she explained. “She’s faster than she looks, you know—I blinked and, poof, she was just gone!”

“Tilly’s a sneaky one, yes,” he said with a nod. “If you need help covering more ground, I’ve got an hour before I’ve gotta open the café?”

Pearl sighed in relief. “Yeah, that’d be great,” she replied. “Honestly, I didn’t think the hardest part of owning a dog would be the walks bit. I mean, I do laps around Aurecove all the time—it’s kinda my job—but it’s like Tilly’s on a mission to see the whole place without me!” She sighed. “I’m gonna take a look by the water in that case… unless you wanted an excuse to hang out by the water for a chance to see a mer?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “I only take my mer sightings all-natural,” he said. “And anyway, I doubt there’d be any around right now, it’s way earlier than any of the others’ mer meetings.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged. “Just gimme a call if ya find her and I’ll try to wrangle her back on her leash.”

“Aye aye, cap’n,” Bdubs said, giving her a small salute as she waved him off, starting down the road to the docks. 

The area by the water was blanketed in an early morning haze, small beads of water coalescing on the surface of her bare skin as she scoured the street, squinting to see if she could spot Tilly’s telltale snow white coat against the darkened docks. 

This far from the town proper, there wasn’t much in the way of lighting; their local lighthouse, though currently undergoing renovations, hadn’t been in service for a few decades now, so all she had to illuminate her surroundings were the soft golden hues beginning to spill over the horizon line.

On the far side of the pier, close to where algae-covered support beams met sandy shores, she glimpsed a flash of movement, followed by a familiar bark. “There you are,” she sighed to herself.

As she approached, however, she was stopped in her tracks by the sound of an unfamiliar voice huffing, “No—you can’t come in the water again—I know it’s tempting but you will drown—” 

A curious noise escaped her and she slowly crept toward the source of the voice, wondering who she’d find—Aurecove did get the occasional spot of tourism from folks passing through town, but it was a bizarre hour for any tourist to be… under the dock? She bent down carefully, stopping short of pressing her ear to the damp wood. 

“You might look a bit like seafoam but you do not belong to the sea, I’m sorry,” the person laughed. Another Tilly bark rang out. 

There was a bit of splashing in the water beneath Pearl’s feet. “Come on, climb back on shore—can’t have us being seen by—” the voice cut off abruptly as a blue-haired person—mer—Pearl realized, gaze stooping from the fin-like structures on the sides of his head to the outline of his vibrant tail, gleaming with a mesmerizing blend of muted turquoise, light green, and pale golden scales just below the surface. His arms were wrapped around Tilly, coat wet but her tail still wagging eagerly. Pearl noted that she had a doe-eyed look to her, clearly not distressed by the stranger holding her. 

That was good, Pearl thought—animals were usually good judges of character. 

He drew in a sharp breath and looked as if he was about to leave before remembering the dog in his arms, which gave him pause. Pearl watched as he floundered for a moment before his shoulders abruptly slumped. “Come to try to take me, too?”

“Take you—” Pearl shook her head. “No, I’m… I was just lookin’ for Tilly.” She gestured to her dog loosely. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you or anything if that’s what you think,” she said, grimacing at the thought. “No one here would do that, I don’t think.”

He chuckled darkly. “I know better than that by now,” he replied, the look on his face grim and haunted. Pearl shifted her weight from foot to foot as she tried to fathom an appropriate response. 

Tilly made a quiet noise, tilting her head at the mer. She nudged her head forward into the crook of his neck and he froze, tail briefly stuttering before resuming treading water. 

Carefully, Pearl settled herself down on the dock, uncaring of the dampness as she said, “Look, I don’t know what happened to you but whatever person hurt you, I’m not them. Cross my heart and all, I won’t touch a—a scale on your lovely tail.”

“He didn’t—” He bit his lip. “He chose to—” He shook his head, tensing his jaw. He ran a hand through Tilly’s fur as he sighed, “You people only bring pain to mine. That’s just how it is.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Pearl replied, trying for an encouraging smile. “We can be friends! See, I’m Pearl—I’ve lived here all my life, I’m a post lady, and I have a dog named Tilly.”

“I’m not telling you my name,” he said flatly.

She hummed in acknowledgment, moving to dangle her legs off the dock and swing them back and forth in what she hoped was a disarming gesture. “Tell me something else, then, like—” she hesitated, searching for a question that wouldn’t be misconstrued, “—your favorite color?”

“My… favorite color,” he echoed and she nodded in confirmation. 

“Yeah, I mean—” she glanced at his aquamarine fins drifting idly with the flow of the tide, “you’re covered in pretty colors, you’ve got to have a favorite!”

His webbed hand stilled in Tilly’s fur, an inscrutable expression crossing his face. “I—it used to—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard. He avoided her gaze as he spat out, “It’s turquoise—not—not this turquoise,” he said, a note of bitterness in his voice as he gestured to the bluer patches on his scales, “but a richer one.”

Pearl nodded, though something told her there was more to that explanation than he was revealing. He already looked close to giving up on this conversation entirely, though, so she didn’t dare push it. “Turquoise is a good color,” she replied. “I like the lighter and darker versions of it.”

“I suppose.” He shifted Tilly so that she was rested against his hip, one arm of his thrown around her, then ran a pensive finger over a patch of scales where light blue transitioned into pale gold. Tilly eyed the movement with a warm look, then nudged against him again.

He sighed, glancing back up at Pearl. “Your… dog—” he hesitated before saying the word, and Pearl briefly wondered if he’d known it before this conversation, “—she’s very cuddly.”

“Tilly’s a sweetheart,” Pearl agreed. “She’s a bit of a handful to watch over but ya can’t help but love her.”

His responding chuckle was laced with forlornness. “I know the type.” He scratched Tilly a little more, smiling softly as she let out a contented noise, before he tentatively approached Pearl, holding her out best he could. “Here,” he said, ignoring as Tilly whimpered at being separated from him, “take her home, will you? She deserves that much.”

“She deserves the world, even if she is a little menace,” Pearl laughed. She grunted as she struggled to gather Tilly into her arms, carefully setting her on the dock beside her. Tilly stared at her for a moment before shaking off the water, thoroughly wetting Pearl’s outfit and making her sigh.

“Now, then, girl, you can’t be running off like that—especially not into the harbor. It’s a good thing our mer friend—” a quiet splashing noise made her glance over, and she realized he was gone. 

She sighed. Maybe she should’ve expected that. 

“Come on, then, Tilly,” Pearl said, standing. “Let’s head home, shall we?”

On the way back, Pearl crossed Bdubs searching behind one of the local shops. “Found her,” she chirped, jingling the leash for emphasis. 

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Bdubs exclaimed. “Where’d you find her?”

A teasing grin stretched across her face as she realized something. “With a mer friend,” she sing-songed. Bdubs’s jaw dropped. 

“No way,” he gaped.

She cackled with laughter. “Tilly met a mer before you did!” she crowed, watching him grumble in response. 

“Well what were they like, then?" he huffed. "You have to tell me everything now.”

She hummed in thought, mind drifting to images of the mer, eyebrows knit in contemplation, mouth pulled into a thin line—some stories weren’t meant to be spread, she thought as she answered, “That’s classified information! Only people—and dogs—who’ve met mers can know, sorry.”

“Oh, come on!” Bdubs exclaimed, throwing his hands up. 

She chuckled. “Now, now, I’m sure you’ll get your moment, eventually.” She waited a moment before cheekily adding, “But still not before Tilly did!”

With Bdubs thoroughly left in shambles, she departed, waving him off as he trudged back to his café. The pavement crunched beneath her feet as she walked, Tilly matching her stride all the way home. 

4 (2017, 2 Years Pre-CTHL)

A warm, beaming smile painted on his lips, Bdubs slid the two ordered drinks across the counter. Streaks of condensation made the bartop shine under the amber lamplight. “It’s always good to see new faces in town,” he said. “Come by more often, by all means!” In a lowered voice, the man added, “Make sure to spend your money, too.”

Skizz laughed. “Oh, dude, we’re gonna be dropping by all the time. This place is great.”

A promise became a bond. Impulse and Skizz turned into staple visitors, almost as much as the Post guys—and they were there every other day, it felt like! Not that Bdubs was complaining. The company was well appreciated—not to mention the cash.

Tango hit it off with Skizz within minutes of knowing him—likewise with Impulse, talks of redstone drawing Etho into the throes of conversation, too, and before he knew it, this rowdy group of four made Wet Dirt their signature meeting place, bringing with them board games or card games.

On quiet nights, Bdubs joined as if he’d always been a part of their little crew, already wont to throw comments and criticisms, when he could, about the state of their games.

“Etho! I’ve been staring at your hand the whole time—you had a wild! Why didn’t you use it?!”

Etho tossed a look back and shrugged. “I had other plans for it,” he claimed.

“Etho’s playing his own game on the side, and he’s dominating whatever that is,” Impulse laughed.

“Don’t be takin’ away from my win here!” Tango gloated. “I won—I’m the Uno master!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bdubs broke in, waving a hand dismissively, “that’s just ‘cause Skizz let you.”

Skizz and Tango’s reactions overlapped, bordering on pure incoherence.

Bdubs fit right in. It was effortless.

The effort came in the form of scheduling events outside of Bdubs’s self-appointed and very strict working hours, often meaning the four had to go on their galivants without him.

When, at last, a day worked out, Bdubs snatched the opportunity up with enthusiasm, ready with his swimwear in mere minutes.

“Never met someone so excited to go swimming,” Impulse commented, chuckling. He sent a glance to Skizz when the man made a curious, challenging noise. “Other than you, yeah,” he was sure to add.

“Well, of course!” Bdubs exclaimed. “Why live in a seaside town if you don’t love swimming in the ocean?” 

“Haven’t you only been out on a boat once?” Etho asked as he approached, the final member of today’s party to arrive, what with Tango being away somewhere for the past few weeks. He raised an eyebrow at Bdubs, who sputtered in response. 

“Once is enough to know I love it!” Bdubs protested. 

Etho chuckled. “Sure.”

“It is!” He huffed. “Besides—it’s my chance to see Etho without a mask for the first time! That’s worth the trip by itself!”

“I don’t know if I should feel flattered or violated by that,” Etho replied. 

Impulse cut in between them, laughing all the while. “Alright, we should head down to the dock before it starts getting late. We only rented the boat for a few hours.” He nodded in the direction of the shores, beckoning them to follow. 

They chatted as they walked, falling into their usual patterns easily. The back of Bdubs’s neck prickled from the warmth of the sun, and he made a mental reminder to reapply his sunscreen when they arrived. 

“You know, come to think of it, I think it’s only my second time on a boat as well,” Skizz remarked, falling in stride with Bdubs, who gasped upon learning this.

“See! And you said you loved swimming too—now all of you can shut up about me not having the right to talk about it!” he declared, glancing at Impulse and Etho. 

Etho shook his head as Impulse coughed on a laugh. “I mean, Skizz still has his whole thing, though," argued Etho.

With a nod, the brunet remarked, “Yeah, no offense, Bdubs, but I don’t think you can quite compare to Skizz’s love of swimming.”

Bdubs crossed his arms. “Preposterous!” he replied, drawing a snicker out of Skizz.

“Yeah, come on, guys, Bubbles here loves the ocean like it’s his own mother!” Skizz said, slapping Bdubs on the back. 

“Is—does the ocean count as your mother?” Impulse replied. 

“Wha—Dipple Dop, you’ve met my mother!” 

“Well, I don’t know, maybe the ocean’s your second mother!” Impulse huffed, though it lacked any heat. “Or maybe your mom’s secretly the ocean—I mean, she’s a lovely lady but I don’t know what she does in her free time.”

Skizz tipped his head back and laughed. “Oh, now you’re just pulling my leg—”

As they reached the docks, wooden boards creaking beneath their feet as they neared the water’s edge, the sound of the water cresting against the support beams of the pier filled Bdubs’s ears. 

“This is our ride?” he exclaimed as Impulse reached for the rope tying a sleek white speed boat to the dock.

“Yeah!” Skizz replied, rocking back on his heels enthusiastically. “It’s nice, isn’t it? I love it—didn’t we do a good job picking it?” 

Bdubs nodded. “Excellent work, you two,” he said, smoothing and lowering his voice to sound more official. Skizz cackled with laughter. 

They boarded the boat one by one, Impulse positioning himself in front of the steering wheel. “Now, I’d like to remind everyone that I’ve only driven a boat once before so, uh, hold onto the railings,” he said, before firing up the engine. 

Bdubs threw his arms up, feeling the soft prickling of disturbed water hit him while the wind whipped his hair and clothes around wildly. He hollered in celebration, to which Skizz joined in readily, a fist pumped in the air with a hearty, “Yeah, baby!!”

Impulse laughed loudly over the wind, shouting, “How far out do we wanna go?”

“I don’t care,” Skizz returned, turning to Etho, barking, “Let’s get some music going! It’s a party!”

Etho had to clear his throat to even begin cresting over the deafening winds, leaning forward with an mp3 player in hand, asking, “Where did you put the cord for speaker?”

Skizz shot an uncertain glance around before turning the same question to Impulse. Seemed that Etho caught the reply, though Bdubs certainly didn’t.

As the man opened up a small storage compartment, Skizz shifted from his spot, resting his forearm against Bdubs’s shoulder. “I’ll never understand why he doesn’t just use bluetooth, or a smartphone,” he commented.

Bdubs scoffed. “Obviously he’s just old school! You can’t always trust new technology—I think it’s smart, frankly.”

“Then why don’t you go old school, wise guy?”

“I—well—it’s different for me! I own a business. I need to keep up with things,” he insisted. “If I could, I’d be off the grid in a second.”

“Sure you would, buddy,” Skizz snickered, and whatever he added after was lost to the sound of the speaker blaring a Paramore song—at least it sounded like one. Wasn’t one Bdubs recognized.

Etho wore a gentle smile, subtly nodding along to the song and staring out off the side of the boat, toward the kicked up spray leading into its wake.

Behind them, the town was still visible, but smaller than Bdubs had ever seen it. A blip compared to the wide, endless ocean the opposite way. It was only getting smaller until the boat slowed then stopped, the howling winds stilling to a natural breeze.

“Okay, I think we’re far enough out,” Impulse announced, beginning to ask Skizz to drop anchor, but he was promptly cut off.

“Got it already, Dipple Dop!”

“Thanks, man!”

“Of course! I’m ready to get this party started!”

Bdubs whooped loudly, overpowering the celebratory cheer that Etho gave.

Skizz leaned over, a wide smile spread across his face as he waved someone—anyone—over. Impulse responded the fastest, humming curiously.

“How excited are you to swim, huh?” Skizz questioned.

“You already—”

“Yeah. Dumb question. I already know that.” Having said that, he pat Impulse on the back a little too hard, a double-handed shove sending the brunet off the side, into the water, with a short yelp.

“Oh snappers,” Etho responded.

Bdubs cracked up, crouching at the edge and watching the man flail. He backed up soon, however, seeing Skizz approach. “Oh, no, no, no, you’re not gettin’ me too,” he shouted, dodging out of the way of an attempted grab.

Laughing once he surfaced again, Impulse coughed out, “Yep, saw that coming.” He called thereafter, “C’mon! Water’s fine! You’re welcome for testing it first!”

A heartbeat later, Etho jumped in. Skizz was quick to follow, exclaiming, “Cannonball!”

This left Bdubs as the last one in, commenting absently, “Sad Tango isn’t in town these days, I bet he—” His words stopped there, mouth left agape and eyes wide.

Scales of deep blue replaced where Skizz’s legs once were, small fins as black as midnight spiking out from his back and his forearms. Webbed fingers pushed his hair back—it was the whole shebang. A full mer, right in front of him!

He didn’t know whether to cheer or cry.

Etho yanked him out of his awestruck stupor, asking, “You good, Bdubs?”

“I—you—Skizz is—” he stammered out. “Skizz?!”

“Yeah?” he replied, laughing a bit. “Is something the matter, dude?”

“Yes? Since when—” Bdubs gestured toward him, exaggerating his movements. “Since when have you been a merman?!”

“Since forever,” answered Skizz, pointing with his thumb toward Impulse. “Ask Dipple Dop—I’ve been a fish my whole life, man. I coulda swore you knew this already!”

Impulse nodded, providing a short, “Yeah,” in confirmation.

“Evidently not!” Bdubs cried.

“I thought everyone knew,” said Impulse. “Who—I know Pearl knows, and Tango. Joe, Stress…”

“Pearl?!” Bdubs echoed disbelievingly. “She usually tells me these kinds of things! What!” He started pacing, laughing. “There is no way I’m…”

As if reading his thoughts, Etho noted, “I think you’re the last person to know.”

“Oh, you zip it! You’ve been seeing merpeople since the second you came to town, you lucky little—”

“Wow, jealous much?” Skizz commented, his laughter interrupting his open-arm floating.

“I am not jealous,” Bdubs insisted, for what felt like the millionth time. “Just frustrated! I’ve been looking for mers for years! Years, guys! Pearl’s dog met a mer before me, for goodness sake! And the first one I meet, turns out he walks on land?! How many more merpeople just walk around like normal?”

“You’ll only know if you catch them in the water, I guess,” reckoned Impulse.

“Oh you know who I’ll catch in the water—” Bdubs grumbled, his bitterness more playful now as he backed up, a running start made before his plunge into the ocean, directly for where Skizz hovered.

+1 (2020, 1 Year Post-CTHL)

Even the gentlest splash put Martyn on edge. Every beat of lapping waves against the jutting sea rocks made his heart sink, his head on a swivel in fear of being spotted.

“Go to the surface,” they said. “It will be fun,” they said.

Yeah, right. This was a terrible idea from the get-go, but after weeks of hearing Gem and Grian return with tales from the surface—stories they’d never tell in Scott’s company—he’d been swayed by that latent spark of curiosity, always there but always ignored.

He supposed that was what he got for indulging their secret outings, and for entertaining their animated retellings of events.

Whoever Scar was, he seemed a fine lad, if a bit silly. He knew Grian and Gem, so maybe he wouldn’t mind meeting him.

That fear of being seen was so inset into him, though, and Martyn clung cautiously to the cover provided by the rocks, simply watching the movement on the town roads. Was it particularly busy, or were there always that many people in town? How come Gem and Grian never mentioned there being so many land people?

Voices—or, just one, really—at once drew Martyn’s attention, making him sink further into the water, only barely above the surface enough to breathe. It sourced from a boat, cresting in widely from the east, likely to avoid the rocks. Despite the distance, whoever was speaking did so loudly, theatrically, and with a strange staticky garble that, frankly, hurt his ears. The responses, if any, were barely audible.

The passing vessel had a light gray hull accented with blue, a slate gray hood atop cerulean support beams staving off the afternoon sun. In bright lettering, a logo on the side read ‘Ocean Wildlife Tours.’ Quite a number of people were stuffed inside, peering out into open water, politely listening as the voice rattled off about a café recommendation or something as they settled into port.

“No way it’s as good as Lizzie’s,” he absently commented, rolling his eyes.

What he didn’t expect was a response. “Oh? Where could I find that place then?”

Martyn yelped and flailed backwards. In all his focus, he’d neglected to notice a man seated cross-legged on the short cliffside just behind him.

He was dressed in a bright, floral patterned button-up, and his brown hair was tied up messily, with furred ears poking out, one tilted alongside the man’s head, curiously.

“P-Probably nowhere you’d be interested in going,” Martyn tried, slightly proud he made it through that sentence without more struggle. “It’s a niche place, like, kind of far out.”

“Aw, man. How far out? I’m traveling right now anyway, so I might make a stop, you never know.”

“Very out of the way,” the mer insisted. “It’s back in, like, my hometown, so, you know.”

Martyn felt like he was going to pass out if he had to keep this up, but what was he going to do? Just vanish under the water? He couldn’t be that impolite—this guy seemed… pretty harmless, if he ignored the fanged smile.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Martyn decided to ask.

“Ren,” he answered. “What’s yours?”

“Um.” A debate roared in his mind for a split second on whether to lie, but he bit down his fear and returned with, “Martyn.”

“Well, Martyn,” Ren started, grinning. “I love your little thing there—like, the flower crown thing of coral. That’s awesome, dude, where’d you get it?”

“I have a friend that makes them?” he tentatively answered.

“Do they sell them? That would be some prime souvenirage right there.”

“That would be some what?”

Ren chuckled. “It would be a cool souvenir,” he clarified. “Honestly—I didn’t expect this little town to have really any cool stuff. It’s surprising to me. You love to see it.”

“You do, you do, yeah.” He nodded, about to raise a hand to brush his hair from his face, only to stop himself short, uncertain whether or not he’d been clocked as a mer yet. At the moment, his ear fins were hidden beneath his hair and headpiece, and his backfin was on the smaller side so it wasn’t easily visible from the front.

 If this person wasn’t paying close attention, it was possible he might’ve missed them. In that case, it wasn’t worth the risk, so he just shook his head to shift his hair around. He played it off, adding, “And sorry, no, my friend doesn’t make them for just anybody. You’re outta luck there.”

“Dang it!” Ren played up his disappointment, still smiling. “I get it.” He shrugged, casting his gaze further into the water. “So what brings you to swim around here, of all places?”

“Uhh. The rocks are cool,” he said, immediately coming up with a better excuse. “Plus, it’s out of the way of boats,” he added, “so I don’t have to worry about that.”

“Pretty smart,” Ren complimented. Martyn chuckled nervously as the man went on, saying, “I would join you in there if I was dressed for that sort of thing.”

“Aw. I, uh—I appreciate the thought,” he offered in politeness, “but you’re fine company where you are.”

A short widening of his grin was all that served to acknowledge that, brief silence then leading into Ren asking, "So, do you know many good places to visit here? I'm only here for the day, so I want to hit everything I can—I've got that boat tour on my list, but I've got to wait till my travel buddy's free for that." He scratched his head lightly, drawing out an uncertain noise before admitting, "Plus, I have no clue where that actually is."

“Can’t help you there,” Martyn said. “Don’t really know this place well myself. Practically a tourist myself.”

It wasn’t a lie—Martyn didn’t know the landfolk town well, and he technically was just a visitor—but he was also neglecting to mention that he’d lived off the coast of Aurecove for his entire life and grown up hearing stories about the sorts of mers stupid enough to show themselves to land people. This random person didn’t need to know that, though. 

“Man, really?” Ren tilted his head curiously. “I would’ve put money on you working here—so what’s with the fancy fish suit, then?”

Martyn furrowed his brows. “What fancy—” he cut himself off, realizing people who didn’t regularly interact with coral reef mers probably also didn’t walk around with handmade coral jewelry like his own. And they also probably didn’t have tails and fins. 

Did—did this person think Martyn was a land person in costume? He bit back a laugh at the prospect; as far as mers went, his appearance was far from grandiose. 

Still, it could only work to his benefit if Ren didn’t know what he was. If anything, that made him feel slightly better about all this. 

“It’s just a style thing, I guess,” Martyn said after a moment, trying his best to feign nonchalance as he tamped down his nerves. “Some friends told me this place was cool so I decided to check it out.”

“Same, dude!" Ren nodded. "Doc—he’s my travel partner, by the way—we’d been planning a trip to get outta the ol’ city and explore more of the continent, and Doc heard about a building here designed by someone he used to work with that he insisted on seeing, so here we are!” 

Martyn blinked at him. “Wow, that’s… interesting,” he replied. “They must’ve been really good friends to come out here to see a building.”

The man snickered. “Actually, they had a whole thing about hating each other when they worked together—Doc’s a redstoner so most of the projects he works on have to have a builder type involved to make sure all the exposed redstone doesn’t scare the children and all that—but Doc’s a secret softy once you get to know him, I swear!”

“Right,” Martyn said slowly. “I’ll take your word for it.” Redstone, he repeated mentally, trying to remember if he’d heard the word somewhere before but coming up short. Did he just mean red rocks? How would those scare children?

“Y’know—” 

As he began speaking, he was cut off by a voice calling out, “Ren! You’re not a fish!” A giant man with dark green skin, one eye seemingly glowing red with some sort of magic Martyn had never before seen, came barreling down the dock toward them. Behind him followed another man dressed in a shirt that read ‘Wet Dirt’. 

Martyn stiffened instinctively as Ren chuckled, “Yeah, man, I’m a dog hybrid, not a fish.” He didn’t seem at all fazed by the newcomer, instead beckoning him over with a wave. “And chill out, dude, you’re gonna scare my new friend here. This is a relaxing vacation, remember?”

The green-skinned man sputtered. “A relaxing—they told me you might’ve been turned into some sort of fish person!” he exclaimed.

Ren stared at him blankly. “What?”

“A mer, actually!” the person in the ‘Wet Dirt’ shirt called, waving as he approached. “Rarely do they ever grace us with their presence onshore but we’ve had a few sightings in the past few years—I’ve seen one with my own—” he stopped, gaze landing on Martyn, who was glancing nervously at the water, wondering if he should just leave. 

“I’ve never seen you around here!” the man exclaimed, a beaming smile stretching across his face as he rushed forward with his hand outstretched. Martyn could do nothing but shake it as he continued, “I’m Bdubs; maybe you’ve heard of me from your mer friends?”

He shook his head, trying to compose himself. “I’m Martyn,” he started, wracking his brain trying to remember if he had heard the name—it sounded vaguely familiar, and given how few mers regularly ventured to the surface, there was a chance he’d met whoever he was referring to. “And, uh, maybe?” 

“Wait—you’re a mer?” Ren cut in, looking him up and down. “Huh, that makes a lot more sense.” He turned to his friend. “You should know I’m not one, though—I mean, I’ve got a tail but it’s not a fish one, y’know?” 

“Okay, but this guy—” he gestured to Bdubs, “—was telling me about this guy who was an avian hybrid that, like, fell into the water or something and turned into a mer and lost all his memories.”

Bdubs grimaced. “Yeah, that happens around here sometimes. We don’t know what causes it—it’s just kind of a thing that happens to some people when they go in the water. Most of ‘em turn up back here eventually, though! I saw Gem last week!”

So he did know Gem, Martyn thought, the tension easing from his shoulders. That was good. That meant he probably wasn’t going to murder him on the spot. 

Ren took a moment to process this all then turned to Martyn. “Wait, then are you—” 

Martyn shook his head. “I grew up like this,” he clarified. “Got all my memories and everything. I reckon that’s the case for most of us, actually.”

“Huh, that’s good to know,” Bdubs muttered. He turned to the green man. “Anyway, Doc, crisis averted! Your travel buddy’s not a mer, we don’t have to call a search party for him!” 

Doc huffed. “You almost gave me a heart attack, I swear, man.”

“Hey! At least we actually know where people are going missing to! That’s better than before!” Bdubs replied.

“What kind of crazy town—” Doc rubbed his temple. He muttered, “I should’ve expected something like this, of course he’d pick the weirdest place.” Turning to Ren, he said, “Well, the tour’s about to start and it’s down by the other side of the docks.”

“Oh!” Ren pulled himself to his feet, tail wagging as he did. “We should head over, then—great meeting you, Martyn! I’ll see you around, okay, dude?”

“Y-Yeah sure!” he replied, watching the pair split off. 

The man chuckled. “Oh, non-Aurecovians,” he sighed. He glanced at Martyn knowingly. “They never understand, do they?”

Martyn blinked at him. “You do realize I’m not an Aure… whatever you just said.”

“You’re as much a part of Aurecove as the rest of us,” he told him, shaking his head.

“Huh,” he muttered to himself. “Thanks.”

“You and I, we aren’t so different,” Bdubs stated in a dramatic tone, waving a hand in front of him for emphasis. “You grew up in your magical underwater town, I grew up in our wonderful aboveground town—but we’re both from the same place, basically. Our people become your people, your people, uh, I don’t know—but I mean, what’s a little water between friends?”

“That’s one way to look at it, sure,” chuckled Martyn. He cast a look at the town behind Bdubs, at the long road snaking behind the docks into the town proper. It was a whole other world of its own.

But maybe not one he had to fear. 

He hummed in thought. “You got some time to hang out?” he asked Bdubs. “I want to know more about this place.”

“Boy, do I ever!" An eager grin spread across Bdubs's face. "You’re gonna know as much as an Aurecove native when I’m done with you, just you wait—”