bioluminescent
This Dreaming has a sea. That's really all Pela requires, even if some of the marine life is unfamiliar to her - but then, hasn't the Dreaming been foreign to her people for a long time? She'll learn to adapt, and to sacrifice, even if it hurts her pride. For now, she is swimming near a long wooden dock on the beach at high noon, sunlight bright ( Read more... )
She glances over her shoulder in the direction of this supposed ramp - isn't this big dock thing also a ramp? Why is there one in the middle of land space? While she assumes there is a reason (Pela doesn't think as poorly of humans as some other Mer she knows) she's still not sure she understands.
"Mm. I come through a reef, come here, and all the Rorqual are in the wrong place. They're in the sky." She's utterly entertained by this; her face changes when she smiles, broad and at nothing in particular beyond that she loves whales - they're the best part of the ocean to her kind. But she remembers she's talking to a human and must be on her guard, so then she ducks down into the water again so that it's up to her chin, watching James ( ... )
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That's all right; James feels free to assume. He's very, very aware of his looks and not at all above using them to his advantage, but that's a story for another day. (Probably.) His shoulders aside, he hands it to her, with a slight smile. "Only the first one is free."
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Pela's eyebrows raise, and she smiles a secret little smile mostly hidden behind the shirt as she attempts to work out how to put it on without tearing it.
Mermaids are playful creatures. She interpreted that as a dare, James.
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Due to the fact James Bond has never had luck he wouldn't push (hard), he'll wait until she's got it over her arms and then 'helpfully' assist with the buttons.
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Pela will only endure this 'helpfulness' for about as long as it takes to get her breasts decently and securely covered, and then she bats his hands away.
The shirt...covers most of her torso, but really, she still has no underwear on, which will have to be remedied at some point because in the scheme of things most people are probably more okay with seeing her topless than bottomless.
"This is mine now?" He's giving her this? She's double-checking.
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"My gift to you," he confirms easily, letting her bat his hands and backing off promptly, a little amused. (Which isn't to say he's still not going to drink and swear, later. After he's gone home shirtless, apparently, and even if anyone does notice - well, probably the most he'll get is a 'for the love of God, Bond' and some rolled eyes.) "You might want to invest in a pair of knickers and some shoes, but I'm afraid I don't carry women's wear - as a rule."
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"Then..." She struggles with this for a moment, but he helped her, and although she's apparently not polite enough to say thank you she does appreciate it. Pela only has limited means of demonstrating as much, though, so she just inclines her head. "Then - I am in your debt."
To a degree. She thinks if he hasn't tried anything yet, beyond vague flirtatiousness that she has no real issue with and, in her fickleness, half-encourages, half-disapproves of, it would be stupid to when she's got her bearings. Still, mermaids and human men have a long and ugly history in her world; her wariness isn't gone.
"--knickers?"
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James has decided to like Pela, even if her existence inherently gives him a headache. He seems largely unconcerned by whether or not she much cares for him in return, though it might seem based on the assumption he can, if he likes, win her over eventually. Possibly by way of persistently friendly usefulness, who knows.
"I'll keep that in mind. Underthings, dear, for your bottom. You're still showing a bit more than I'm afraid most people are going to admit they want a look at." Well, thank you for that wonderful social commentary, James.
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Pelagia frowns, at that- how silly, clearly humans have some issues they need to work through, but she doesn't dwell on it. It's not as though there is anything she can do about it, and she has no interest in saving humanity from themselves. Instead, despite what she just said to him, she looks at James and issues a...'request'.
"Help me find some."
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...oh, well, how can he deny her. James scrutinizes Pela for a moment, sighs very slightly, and goes to collect his jacket, his shoes and his newspapers. "Just let me do as much of the talking as possible, please," he says, over his shoulder, bent to grab his things.
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"I will speak exactly as much as I wish to speak," she says, mildly affronted, but she does look pretty glad he agreed to help her. Don't worry, James, she'll probably be too distracted by, like, lighting fixtures and other kinds of human tools.
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"I have no doubt." He straightens, appraising her. "We're going to make a few stops, first. You need something to avoid getting arrested for public indecency, and I need another shirt, and then I know just where to go."
...of course James has a preferred lingerie boutique, why would anyone even be remotely surprised by this.
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This is a lot of travel for her 'new' legs, she thinks, but she has swum miles and miles and she's not concerned. Being parted from this dock is a slightly anxiety-inducing notion, but Pela is also a little intrigued: what is the world out there like? Is it as awful as the legends say, or is it something more?
"Let's go," she requests, and makes her way down the dock.
Some women would adjust the shirt to try to get it to cover more. Pela, of course, never will. The woman has been on her feet for less than an hour but she strides like- well, the royalty she is, though vastly less tightly compressed and asexual than most human or land-walking royalty would be trained to be- but the way she holds her chin, up high, is something she'd have in common with them.
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There is something inexplicably charming about her, but James's type is probably 'pain in the ass', and maybe then it's not so inexplicable after all. He introduces himself, as they make their way from the beach-
"Call me James, by the way."
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She slows momentarily as she realizes that yes, names are probably a good idea, but catches up with him soon enough. Pela is awfully tall, and with legs as long as hers keeping up with him isn't that hard.
"Pelagia," she says. 'Gia' is probably a more acceptable nickname in London, for example, than the others people could use for her, but it all depends on his tastes if he chooses to shorten it.
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James likes her name just fine the way it is, but he probably will make it 'Gia' when they get where they're going. The first couple of stops aren't all that interesting - it's not hard to find some sort of cheap sarong to ensure he doesn't have to bail her out after being arrested for public indecency in the nexus, and it takes him a scant few minutes to change into something fresh (an entirely new outfit, pressed where he'd been rumpled) in his peculiarly impersonal flat. For the latter, he absents himself briefly, coming back to collect her from the nexus for a trip through London in this week's Aston Martin.
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