Gemini Reborne

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The container was extremely heavy, and even in its superior structure, was more delicate than the tub. They couldn't afford dropping this one. In the end, Marcelina had to be carried by Arturo so that Sergio could aid in supporting the container. It took all of Arturo's ten-man group to transport. At least it was properly filled. Arturo had a present frown marring his face. He wasn't sure whether to be angrier at the carpenter or himself. He had felt the creature's discomfort and her eyes steady on him, but Arturo let his trust in the carpenter overrule that. With no small amount of distaste, he recalled coming upon the two. Her eyes were large, frightened, and confused. She was only half a body like this, and the carpenter had nearly taken full advantage of that. Clearly, Arturo needed to alter his trust levels.

No longer would he leave her alone on land. On his ship, he could let her be, but should they ever dock and bring her out, she would never leave his sight again. It did little to quell his guilt, but Arturo wasn't one to feel guilty for long in the first place. It would pass. Once on the ship, the container-too big to fit in his bathroom- was attached to the wall of his cabin nearest his window. It was longer than it was tall, and deep, letting her move around and on occasion sit up and peek through a window. There was a glass side so she could be seen at all times. Arturo waited patiently for her to wake up, sitting on his bed with her curled up near him. In her sleep, Marcelina had managed to rest her head on part of his thigh, and he let her be there. Taking the advantage of her sleep, he reached down to touch her face and hair. Her hair was thick, and full of imperfect curls that seemed to reflect her youth. It was soft-all of her was soft- and flowed easily through his fingers. Her face was unlike any he'd seen. There was nothing about her that he could remember seeing on another woman.

Arturo was tempted to continue downwards in his mapping, but he had more morals than the carpenter. She was his, yes, but she was female. She was sleeping, and she was untouched. If Arturo would have her, he would do it properly, at the very least. Eventually, Marcelina began to stir, and he helped the process by patting her cheek. "You need to get in the container now." He said when her eyes had opened and adjusted to the light. Marcelina looked over at it and frowned deeply. "You are cruel. Like all humans." Regardless, she let him pick her up and disrobe her, shivering only slightly at the loss of heat. He walked the five paces between the bed and container and gently lowered her in. It took a considerably shorter time for her to return to what she was. By the time her waist hit the water she was already fully formed as a nereid again. Marcelina moved away from him then, settling inside and testing her space. It would suffice.

There was a rumble, soft and rolling, then loud and demanding. "If I can't get my fill of man then feed me fish of some sort. As raw as possible." Marcelina flicked green eyes up and rested her head on her arm, almost regal despite her position. Arturo rose an eyebrow at her, but nodded and left the cabin to fetch the chef. A few moments later, Arturo returned with a plate of fish, along with fresh meat. Not yet salted, it was still bloody and soft. To Marcelina, it was just like a chunk of shark. Pulling up a chair, he dropped in a fish. From above, the water created a blurry, ever-moving image, preventing him from seeing her eat. So, he lowered himself to the floor to watch through the glass. All he saw was a small fish body one moment, then a flash of an arm, and then nothing. There was the crunching sound of bones being chewed. The dark eeriness of it had the hairs at the back of Arturo's neck standing up. Suddenly, Marcelina was pressing her nose to the glass, staring at the plate with nothing short of predatory hunger. Her eyes were hyper-focused, yet vacant of anything remotely coherent.

Arturo swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, then reached up to drop all the plate's contents in the water. The fish were quickly snatched up, but the meat-pork- was left to float teasingly in front of her. Marcelina followed the blood as it diluted into the water, then smiled-void of conscience and full of sharp teeth- as she grabbed the chunk. She squeezed it with a strength hidden in her arms, then tore it into pieces to shred and swallow whole. There were soft noises from the container-hums of pleasure and the snarls of a creature feeding. Arturo was unsure of what he felt. Either he was horrified or fascinated. All he could imagine was Alejandro, who she had managed to tear into. Did she rip into him like that, slurp at the blood and engorge herself on him? How many other sailors had fallen to a creature such as this? The imagined number alone sickened him, and Arturo had to stand and leave Marcelina to feed.

With a ship full of supplies and an eager crew, Arturo set sail, planning a course for one of the treasure-rich islands across the Atlantic. That, and the route was full of unsuspecting merchant ships. He smirked, expecting yet another perfect tour. By dinner, late into the evening, the Magia Negra had entered Atlantic waters. While his crew celebrated their speedy start in the mess hall, Arturo spent dinner alone, watching the creature. She had finished eating and at some point had properly fell asleep. Her hair was braided intricately, and when he looked closely he could see a scale or two woven in, as though a practical placeholder. Again, Arturo was able to study her face. Completely relaxed, Arturo had an unobstructed look at her beauty. Her eyelashes were long, just slightly brushing over her cheeks. He thought of her eyes, the wonderfully deep oceans of green. They were like his, but full of magick's sparkle and old power.

Arturo found himself captivated even by thoughts of her. Well, he would deny being captivated, but he was quite curious. He wanted to know of her story, the secrets of the oceans, the dying culture of nereids. Arturo knew of old stories, but no story could compare to having a living character straight out of them. He blinked, slowly, and noticed that the creature's face was quite detailed when before it was not. It was then he realized that he had pressed up against the glass, the tip of his nose squeezed by the barrier. He blushed, embarrassed at himself and glad she did not wake up. Getting up in a bit of a rush, Arturo went away to prepare for bed. After all, the recent events certainly called for an early bedtime.

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