Swimming, Swimming [Open]
Cassie hasn’t gone swimming (voluntarily) for a while.
The Sensoriums have given her some coast of Themyscira, from when it was an island and not a floating world. It’s familiar; many trips and visits have ingrained the place in Cassie’s mind.
She spends a bit out in the water, seeing how deep she can get before she has to turn back up to the surface for air, kicking around on her own. She ducks under, opens her eyes and watches little fish go around. It’s relaxing.
But it doesn’t take long to get tired. When treading water has her muscles and back sore, she surfaces for the last time and bobs there for a second, brushing her hair out of her face when it covers her eyes. She should go in, she realizes. She’s been out here far too long as it is.
The beach is a long way off and she doesn’t really feel like swimming back.
“Hey,” she says, aloud. It feels ridiculous to be talking out loud when no one’s around for miles. “How about that underground spring?”
Everything shifts. The sunny skies are gone, replaced by a rocky ceiling, and the water is colder. It’s mostly silent without the tides, other than the drip of water somewhere, echoing off the walls.
Her feet can touch the bottom as the ground changes, and she gives her arms a break by standing, waiting for her eyes to adjust. When they do, she grabs the rocky edge of the pool and hoists herself up.
Sort of, anyway. It’s a bit of high ledge, she’s not exactly tall, and she’s getting tired. After a second of hanging off the edge, she sucks it up and tries again.
Heave ho, up she goes.
“Jeez,” she breathes, “don’t overdo it, Cassie, you're only human.”
The Sensoriums have given her some coast of Themyscira, from when it was an island and not a floating world. It’s familiar; many trips and visits have ingrained the place in Cassie’s mind.
She spends a bit out in the water, seeing how deep she can get before she has to turn back up to the surface for air, kicking around on her own. She ducks under, opens her eyes and watches little fish go around. It’s relaxing.
But it doesn’t take long to get tired. When treading water has her muscles and back sore, she surfaces for the last time and bobs there for a second, brushing her hair out of her face when it covers her eyes. She should go in, she realizes. She’s been out here far too long as it is.
The beach is a long way off and she doesn’t really feel like swimming back.
“Hey,” she says, aloud. It feels ridiculous to be talking out loud when no one’s around for miles. “How about that underground spring?”
Everything shifts. The sunny skies are gone, replaced by a rocky ceiling, and the water is colder. It’s mostly silent without the tides, other than the drip of water somewhere, echoing off the walls.
Her feet can touch the bottom as the ground changes, and she gives her arms a break by standing, waiting for her eyes to adjust. When they do, she grabs the rocky edge of the pool and hoists herself up.
Sort of, anyway. It’s a bit of high ledge, she’s not exactly tall, and she’s getting tired. After a second of hanging off the edge, she sucks it up and tries again.
Heave ho, up she goes.
“Jeez,” she breathes, “don’t overdo it, Cassie, you're only human.”