seaphonic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seaphonic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull2012-05-15 04:19 am
seaphonic) wrote in sirenspull2012-05-15 04:19 am
Entry tags:
♫ Tenth Song ♫ [Video]
[When the feed kicks on, those watching will be greeted with the beautiful sight of the sunrise at the seaside, the sun making the water sparkle and glitter on the horizon. There are the light sounds of seagulls in the background before a hand makes to grab the NV and move it to a different rock. This time when the hand pulls back Syrena is in full view, sitting upright on a rock, the end of her golden, scaly tail shining in the rising sunlight. She's just as topless as ever, but her long, dark hair seems to be pulled over her chest, hiding anything unsightly in plain view. She seems somewhat forlorn as she sits, long fingers twisting in her hair.]
In this sea, I am alone. It is a quiet thing, to be alone. It is even a boring thing at certain times. But mostly, it is quiet, at least when one forgets the sounds of boats and metal ships.
I have been here for many moons now, trapped in this suffocating sea. I never thought how much I would crave the songs of my sisters or the company of another of my own kind. There is a gentle porpoise who visits me often, but it is not the same. They cannot sing and one can only listen to their own voice in isolation for so long.
[She stops toying with her hair then, setting her hands down on either side of the rock. She would never admit it using the word lonely, but she is. Terribly so, in her own little way.]
I want music. The piano - I heard it twice. A boy played it for me and so did Elliot. I have not heard such music since but it was beautiful. Elliot no longer visits for he left long ago. Others who used to visit me have stopped as well. Either they have died or disappeared - I do not know.
Things are quiet once more. There are no more hotdogs or Twinkies or pies. Pickles will not answer. I wanted him to send me more Dethklok songs. Even he too, is silent. Has he left as well? Or perhaps he has had too much drink and cannot get up, just like Jack Sparrow said about drink and men. The pirate has left too, I believe, for he has not bothered me in quite some time about ships. If he is gone, I will think little of it.
[There's a little sigh.]
All I want is a song. A note. A melody. Something to fill the quiet. At least with music, one cannot be alone - even if they are the only one of their kind.
A request then: Will someone sing for me? Will someone play a song?
In this sea, I am alone. It is a quiet thing, to be alone. It is even a boring thing at certain times. But mostly, it is quiet, at least when one forgets the sounds of boats and metal ships.
I have been here for many moons now, trapped in this suffocating sea. I never thought how much I would crave the songs of my sisters or the company of another of my own kind. There is a gentle porpoise who visits me often, but it is not the same. They cannot sing and one can only listen to their own voice in isolation for so long.
[She stops toying with her hair then, setting her hands down on either side of the rock. She would never admit it using the word lonely, but she is. Terribly so, in her own little way.]
I want music. The piano - I heard it twice. A boy played it for me and so did Elliot. I have not heard such music since but it was beautiful. Elliot no longer visits for he left long ago. Others who used to visit me have stopped as well. Either they have died or disappeared - I do not know.
Things are quiet once more. There are no more hotdogs or Twinkies or pies. Pickles will not answer. I wanted him to send me more Dethklok songs. Even he too, is silent. Has he left as well? Or perhaps he has had too much drink and cannot get up, just like Jack Sparrow said about drink and men. The pirate has left too, I believe, for he has not bothered me in quite some time about ships. If he is gone, I will think little of it.
[There's a little sigh.]
All I want is a song. A note. A melody. Something to fill the quiet. At least with music, one cannot be alone - even if they are the only one of their kind.
A request then: Will someone sing for me? Will someone play a song?
[video]
: [video]
[video]
More like she’ll make a meal out of you…] You would keep me company?[video]
[video]
[video]
[video]
[video]
[video]