riverviewlogs | Poor Unfortunate Souls

who: Llŷr & Open
what: Siren singing and broken hearts.
when: During the Butterfly Effect
where: The River
warnings: Mind control, mentions of eating people.

He remembered Riverview; at least that was working for him. The rest, however, was not as fortunate. Affected by a certain chalice, the merman was less mer and more siren, perched on a rock in the river and running one hand lazily in the water. he's making sure to show off all his best sides, his hair less in braids and random knots and more flowing silk down his shoulders.

After accepting his siren side in this strange timeline created, Llŷr abandoned his curiosity for a less hospitable trait, mixing a more callous nature with the natural instincts of his grandmother's blood. Losing his pod to humans and swimming the ocean full of bitterness, there was little kindness left in him. These days, humans were nothing but toys.

This meant singing. Although a snack would be lovely, the idea of playing with his food is quite tempting, so by the first tune out of his mouth, he calls for anyone who can hear him with a melody so fascinating it's hard to resist.

They would all love him and despair.

[ooc: Essentially, fishboy will be magically seducing anyone attracted to men with his song, and make them utterly in love with him for as long as he's singing. How this affects people not from his world is definitely up to you - it can be less effective or not affect them at all. Non-humans are less affected in general in his own world, but again, completely up to you.

Of course he will not actually be eating anyone (unless you want that for some reason) and people can be saved or he'll just simply play with them for a while.]

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"Come swim the rivers with me,
We'll glide through the current so deep.
Being safe is an illusion, baby,
Don't be afraid to let go.
There's unimaginable beauty waiting,
For you down below."

Llŷr is more than happy to let the young man play with his hair, continuing to push himself further up until he's nearly in Ivar's lap and can run his hands over the viking's face, tipping that jaw a bit as if he's about to kiss the teen.

However, the game is in danger by the siren not quite understanding how a wheelchair works, and the more he climbs up, the unsteadier it becomes. The back wheels sink into the wet mud by the river's edge, threatening to tip them both backwards.

At least that would be dry land.

Ivar's been completely hypnotized by the siren's song, made into easy and pliable prey. He lets his head be tipped back as the siren's face draws near, his lips parting as he's about to be kissed...and then the wheelchair tips over from the unbalanced weight of both them on it.

Jarred back into full wakefulness during the pause, Ivar realizes just what sort of danger he's in. Always quick to act, he pulls a knife out of his vest, holding it in a manner that makes it clear he knows exactly how to use it. He'll gut him like a fish if he tries any tricks again. "You stay right there. I know what you are."

Being on land is really uncomfortable when someone has a knife, and even if he decided to turn his tail into legs he would probably be gutted before that.

Instead, Llŷr smooths his hair back and smiles at the boy in the most disarming way he could. "Now, there's no need for this. Don't you want to stay with me? I could make you very happy."

He carefully moves to present himself as aesthetically pleasing as possible.

He looks so handsome lying there, upper body nicely toned and the fish half not at all off-putting, that Ivar is tempted to let his guard down again. But his fear of ending up in water overrules any romantic ideas he may have about this siren.

He snorts in response to Llŷr's words. "I'm sure you could, right before you drown me. I've heard of your kind in stories. Nøkks that lure people in with beautiful music to their deaths."

The siren chuckles, leering at Ivar with his black eyes, flicking his green tailfin slightly. "Oh, so dramatic. What waste it would be to drown someone so handsome, when I could show you all the pleasures of the deep?"

How different he is when the chalice changes the timelines. Gentle and curious Llŷr, embracing his true nature and trying to seduce teenagers.

"Come to me, boy. I am trapped on land, I cannot harm you now even if I desired to."

"Pleasures. Right. Is that what you call watching the expression on someone's face as you deprive them of air?" Ivar knows how to be sadistic. He'd blood-eagled a man just before ending up here. He's no doubt this siren would kill him if he could.

But he is right. There's not much he can do stranded on land. And Ivar's curiosity about such a powerful water spirit is great. Foregoing the wheelchair, he crawls forward a few feet, one hand still keeping a firm grip on the knife, just in case Llŷr tries any funny business.

Llŷr narrows his eyes a little at that, watching the young man crawl closer to him warily. He could sing again, but Ivar had a knife and might be far too on edge for the magic to ensnare him.

"It is a pleasing sight, perhaps, but I much prefer the look of ecstasy in a lover's kiss." The voice is warm and sultry, even if there's a tinge of worry there as well. He curls up a bit more, fins kept close to his green scales. He somehow manages to look beautiful even tense like this, water drops glittering everywhere and his ginger hair starting to curl slightly at the tips as the sun warms him.

Surely you want him, Ivar? He's all helpless on land and at your mercy.

"Such a talented, silver-gilt tongue you have." It was a saying among Vikings when someone was an impressive liar. He still didn't believe that the nøkk wouldn't try something if he was capable of. But...he did look awful tempting, stuck there on land, and curled up with the water shining off of his scales.

He crawls up to Llŷr, pausing there for a moment. To Hel with it. Ivar leans in and kisses him on the lips. If he's damned himself to being pulled back into the river, so be it. This was worth it.

To be honest, this was not at all what the siren was expecting. Llŷr was more prepared for a stabbing than a kiss, but it doesn't mean he's about to complain. Instead he meets that kiss, intending to show the boy just how talented his tongue was.

It would be a little difficult to roll them both into the river from here, but Llŷr briefly glances to the side to measure the distance before he goes back to making Ivar breathless in other ways.

Maybe it would let his guard down enough to sing for him again.

Ivar is indeed left breathless by the siren's ways. He's not all that experienced sexually, so every experience always turns out being blissfully new and wonderful for him. One hand comes up to run his hand over the muscles of Llŷr's chest, while the other still holds onto the blade.

He runs the tip of his knife lightly over the skin of Llŷr's powerful shoulders and collarbone. Ivar is tempted to cut into the skin and see a bit of blood, but he refrains for two reasons. He's not nearly so cruel as all that while he's under the chalice's effect and he knows threatening the water spirit will only provoke him into start singing again. This time, Ivar might not be able to stop him.

Though the way things are going, he might not want him to.

Poor Unfortunate Souls

sorry for lateness, we've been rearranging the apartment

No worries!

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