Going Swimmingly

[palmerthing]

 *Palmer has found a lake today and is giving it an uncertain kind of look. Not only is such a large outdoor feature a bit unexpected when there appears to be nothing in particular dividing it from the couches and chairs in the main area of the nexus, not only would he probably start turning into something aquatic on automatic as soon as he tried swimming, but he's fairly sure that he saw Gollum from The Lord of the Rings swimming in there and that's just too much weirdness for him. Not that he has any room to talk, but he's not up for that meeting yet. So he sits on the beach and watches the waves. Hopefully there won't be any merfolk or cartoon fish, one fantasy character at a time is bad enough.*

Comments

[save_us_alice]

That they do not, to my annoyance when I kept having to go up for air while fighting snarks.

[she continues building the castle while he goes for his dip, showing Chester how to pat down the sand so it stays in shape]

[palmerthing]

*Palmer is underwater for quite a bit longer than normal, but comes up eventually to watch the kid play. It's cute, and the Thing isn't used to children, so watching it is.* Snarks are the ones in that one poem, right? All I remember is that they like bathing machines.

[save_us_alice]

[Chester is alternately patting down and then scooping up sand, giggling all the while. Alice laughs along with him] Perhaps I should put you to work digging the moat. . .

[she looks back at Palmer once he surfaces] Sort of -- the way my mind imagined them, they were awful fish with legs and the ability to shoot acid spit and drag you in with a long sticky tongue. And way more agile underwater than I wanted them to be.

[palmerthing]

I was never sure what a snark looked like, or a boojum either. Maybe a groundhog for snarks, and some kind of big groundhog-cougar combo for boojums? *He's slowly changing as he talks, as though growing fins were a completely normal thing to do during a conversation. But then Alice is the one person who's probably used to that, what with the White Queen being a sheep and a chess piece so often.*

[save_us_alice]

[Alice is mostly used to that, though it is an interesting process to watch] I think the point of the poem was never to specify. . .in my head, though, the two are completely separate creatures. Snarks are those awful legged fish, and boojums are skull-headed ghostly creatures with a scream that can literally send you flying off into the void. Both real pains in the bum to fight.

[palmerthing]

I wonder how anyone ever got them confused then.

[save_us_alice]

Well, you have to remember, I didn't write the poem. Reverend Dodgson clearly had different creatures in his head.

[palmerthing]

Fair enough, I suppose.

I'm curious what he was imagining now . . .

[save_us_alice]

I don't know -- probably something closer to your hedgehog-ish creatures. He did just like making up nonsense words, which my younger self loved.

[palmerthing]

Maybe he wasn't thinking of anything in particular at all. The description in the poem doesn't mention much in the way of shape.

[save_us_alice]

That's also a possibility. Maybe the intent was just for everyone to make up their own monsters. [Chester giggles and flings some more sand around, getting some in Alice's face] Like my little monster here -- please do not blind Mummy.

[palmerthing]

*Palmer chuckles and shakes his head.* Silly kid.

[save_us_alice]

[wiping the sand out of her eyes] To be fair, he probably gets that from me -- I was a bit of a wild child myself, pre-fire.

[palmerthing]

Damn, I wish I could play with him. *He sighs. Touching people is just too dangerous, especially a little kid who might do something stupid.*

[save_us_alice]

[Alice gives him a sympathetic look] It really is a shame about your inability to touch. I wish I knew something we could actually do about it.

[palmerthing]

I could wear rubber gloves if it would make you feel better, but I doubt that's enough. *He sighs.* Maybe I should just stop trying--no, no, bad thought.

[save_us_alice]

[Alice pulls Chester a little closer to her] As a protective mother, I'm going to have to politely but firmly insist you keep trying. [then, more gently] Maybe some sort of full-body suit? Is it just pure skin-to-skin contact that's the danger?

[palmerthing]

Right. Yeah. Sorry, it just . . . it gets hard, ya know?

Any kind of physical contact is bad. I have a bit of control over it, but not much. Not enough to touch anyone safely. *He looks sad, but also kind of hungry in a way. It's a bit difficult to avoid thinking like a wild animal sometimes.* Fuck it, I'm gonna grab myself a couple more fish. Eating usually helps.

*With that he goes down again for a moment, returning with quite a large fish. The fish thrashes a bit, but then Palmer changes horribly and devours it whole.*

[save_us_alice]

I do appreciate that it's tough for you, yes. And I'm sorry that's just -- too easy to be dangerous. It really is a shame.

[she watches as he goes under, then comes back up with that giant fish and and -- wow. She makes sure Chester's sun hat is covering his eyes for that display] Er -- feel better?

[palmerthing]

It's a big help, yeah. *He's slowly changing back, tentacles retreating into his flesh, taking what's left of his meal with them.* I know that it's awful to look at. Sorry about that.

[save_us_alice]

A bit more warning might have been appreciated. . .though, admittedly, after some of the horrors I've had to fight in Wonderland, that actually wasn't as awful as it might have been.

[palmerthing]

*He looks chagrined for a moment.* It's gonna be hard to remember every time, changing is starting to be normal for me. I'm happy it wasn't too bad though.

[save_us_alice]

Oh, things like gills and fins like before, that was fine. Just -- all the sudden tentacles and whatnot when you scarfed down that fish. Reminded me a bit of the Queen of Hearts.

[palmerthing]

Yeah, tentacles tend to freak people out. I'm not sure why, they're not nearly as bad as some of the things I could do.

[save_us_alice]

True. . .I don't know what it is. Do we just have an instinctive fear? Some ancestral memory of things in the ocean that could drag us down?