Glass Dolls

All About Atlantis! - 3

"Atlanteans, Atlanteans

Can't appease 'em, can't demean 'em.

Atlanteans, Atlanteans

The toughest fish to fry.

It's not because they're super smart (they're not)

It's not because they're wicked strong (fat shot!)

No, they're just far more boring

Than anyone else

I'm already snoring!

What a buncha puny whelps."

An impromptu ditty composed by Loki and Prometheus after sinking the city of Atlantis below the waves.

Level of Refraction: -189 degrees.

Mold remains fixed in place on the beach, staring vacantly out to sea. Her eyes glaze over the city that has sprouted out from the water a little off shore. Even as the glistening metropolis starts to rumble its way to shore she still doesn't react. It's only when a crowd starts to gather around her that she finally snaps out of her paradigm shift.

"Yo, babe, what is that?" A man next to her says.

"I do not care." Mold responds.

She puts the water behind her to try to escape the crowd, but to her dismay she sees that the masses have condensed even tighter than before. They stare vapidly at the approaching landmass, and Mold lets out a frustrated sigh. Deciding to wait no longer, she bends her legs and makes a single leap into the air, landing on the man's head that approached her. He lets out a disgruntled exclamation, but she's already hopped onto the next mortal in line.

The Jötunn gets a few heads down before the rumbling abruptly stops, and she's thrown off balance. As she stumbles to a halt, a foot planted on a head apiece, a voice booms out from behind her.

"You!" It proclaims, emanating from the tallest tower of the city. "You who walks upon the heads of your subjects!"

Mold turns. The look on her face is so dour that if anyone were to look her in the eye they would most certainly drop dead.

"I invite you to my council, so that we may have a discussion regarding the future of our respective races."

As the disembodied voice delivers this line, a hatch opens in one of the buildings on the city's edge. A shimmering speck of water seems out from the hatch, hovering motionlessly in the air for a moment. Then it seems to latch onto Mold, and it darts through the air towards her.

"Man come ON!" She growls, turning away again.

She sprints over the heads of the people, and she actually manages to make it a fair distance. However the flying water catches up inevitably, lifting Mold into the air with it. Once again it hovers in place for a moment as it recalibrates its course. The trickster god morphs her body into several different aquatic forms, trying to swim out of the bubble. However the current inside the sphere keeps her from breaching its surface, and as the water begins back towards the city she returns to her two legged form.

Making gills for her neck, she watches the scenery around her shift from her liquid escort. Deep, lapis towers stretch upwards around her. The architecture is incredibly fluid and open, gaping archways scaling up buildings rather than windows. Eventually she is brought to the top of the tallest tower in the building.