♫ Sixth Song ♫ [Video]
[The feed seems to come on with a clatter and bang as the starfish shaped NV slides its way over the surface of a flattened rock. There seems to be a hiss before a wet hand curls over the lens, blocking out the view before the NV is propped upright and set off to the side. What is viewable now is Syrena, with her nude top half and tail slightly visible from the awkward angle, but more importantly, if strangely enough, is the tiny pile of fish before her. She's secluded herself to a part of the shoreline that's sheltered and far more rocky, if not cavernous.
She seems to be in a sour mood (but when is she not?) and who could blame her - her pile of fish have frozen.
You see, the very reason the feed even came on in the first place was that she tried to smash one of the fish with her NV. (It didn't do much.) A hand grabs one of the frozen fish by the tail before slamming it harshly against the edge of a sharp rock, its head going flying off in a random direction. It's dipped then in the water a few times before she chews on it, sharp teeth extending briefly before she frowns and pulls it away from her mouth.]
My fish have turned into rocks. They have frozen. [She finally addresses the feed. Oh, she's noticed it's been on this entire time, she just hasn't cared. A sharp claw scrapes at the outer layer of the fish's scales.] I thought I would make a collection of fish, but they have become useless now to me. [Because wet things freeze if you leave them out in the open for too long.]
I do not like the sticky white rain. [Snow, naturally, some of it has found its way stuck to her hair.] The Caribbean Sea was far more beautiful and wonderful than these cold, dirty waters.
She seems to be in a sour mood (but when is she not?) and who could blame her - her pile of fish have frozen.
You see, the very reason the feed even came on in the first place was that she tried to smash one of the fish with her NV. (It didn't do much.) A hand grabs one of the frozen fish by the tail before slamming it harshly against the edge of a sharp rock, its head going flying off in a random direction. It's dipped then in the water a few times before she chews on it, sharp teeth extending briefly before she frowns and pulls it away from her mouth.]
My fish have turned into rocks. They have frozen. [She finally addresses the feed. Oh, she's noticed it's been on this entire time, she just hasn't cared. A sharp claw scrapes at the outer layer of the fish's scales.] I thought I would make a collection of fish, but they have become useless now to me. [Because wet things freeze if you leave them out in the open for too long.]
I do not like the sticky white rain. [Snow, naturally, some of it has found its way stuck to her hair.] The Caribbean Sea was far more beautiful and wonderful than these cold, dirty waters.