wanderlust » smplive au

chapter viii - sirens

the shipwreck of my life; slow and unescapable yet so eerily glorious.

—

Dark. Gloomy. Dusky. Indistinct. Overcast. Tenebrous. Crepuscular.
All these words blossomed in his field of mind, yet all rotting away at the sight of reality. Besides so, the beings chemosynthesized in their own dimness of the planet, expanding inevitably.

Decaying. Putrid. Humid. Glossy.
The smell of rigor mortis wafted its way through the air, yet no one seemed to have passed.

Dripping noises could be heard from all around, the place seemingly hollow apart from the trickling of a spring.
He'd discovered the barrel of his accessories, safe, untouched, and sound like a treasure.

Scarcely bothering to assure himself the men were alive, he listened for their exhales and inhales as he stepped about, with them outstretched around the wreck of a boat. Some had their clothes smelling and looking mildewy, and to his own antagonistic thoughts he resumed in his recovery of items.

Inspiriting, the map was outstretched in his faith. The bark it lay on was slimy yet not rotten. Wax, he presumed, probably part of the SSMilo. The paint and annotations were smudged illegibly. Austere, he attempted reading the labels.

A yawn could be apprehended, with him spinning round to meet direct eye contact with Joko.
"W-where are we...?" He quavered, embracing himself, his teeth chittering with the glacial effect of the cavern.
"I'm sorry, J, I have no clue. I just woke up here with everyone asleep. I think the wave washed us up somewhere. I can't tell if we're underneath the sea or on land." The Britishman responded as the American  massaged his temples and kneaded into his boots.

—

Seizing his trusty guitar, his friend since the age of 11. They'd been through rough times and hatred but he still adored it. Wilbur plucked at it softly, smiling with melancholy. Said boy hummed softly, the other man watching.

it's all there in the gospels, the magdalene girl, comes to pay her respects, but her mind is awhirl.

His eyes closed passionately and his voice softened.

when she finds the tomb empty, the stone had been rolled, not a sign of a corpse in the dark and the cold.

Joko's lips parted in shock, the man had such talent, whether or not he'd interacted with him or not. He, at that moment, had immediately regretted the deceitful wiles he'd performed on him.

when she reaches the door, sees an unholy sight, there's this solitary figure in a halo of light.

he just carries on floating past calvary hill,
in an almighty hurry, aye but she might catch him still.

"tell me where are ye going lord, and why in such haste?"

He had sung as beautifully and perfectly in tune like sirens, he brought the sailors to land. The men awoke like palisades all yawning inaudibly and adoring his concert.

"now don't hinder me woman, i've no time to waste!
for they're launching a boat on the morrow at noon,
and i have to be there before daybreak.
oh i canna be missing, the lads'll expect me,
why else would the good lord himself resurrect me?
for nothing will stop me, i have to prevail,
through the teeth of this tempest, in the mouth of a gale,
may the angels protect me if all else should fail,

He almost came to the pause, glowing in his own little aura, not noticing the hosts of his performance.

when the last ship sails."

There he opened his eyes ajar, with a serious expression, singing so low it surprised everyone. His fixated expression swirled into a mix of confusion and embarassment, as he placed down the guitar.

There was a moment of silence as he was met with a large round of applause, a wide open smile growing, a soft pink appearing on his cheeks in the dark.

He lifted his tired body up, and excused himself.
"Th-that... wasn't even the entire song. Just two verses, but thank you so much everyone." The rose grew over his pale cheeks.

—

He sensed a soft tap on his back and shivered under the person's touch.
"Wilbur that was amazing," The American accent was thick, and the pure joy could be heard in Schlatt's voice. The man was met with a hug in return.

—

[ irl switch ]

Plastered in his seat, he awoke in complete silence, and paused the music. He had fallen asleep for five hours.
Good, he was sleep-deprived.

Everyone around had their eyes shut. A rather eerie sight, yet shocking.
In excuse, Dave to his left was reading- The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. He was familiar with that book, in fact, one of his favourites. Provoking, witty, yet heart-breaking.

6 hours left.