Not-Chryssa
She/Her
27
May 1
Eterna City, Sinnoh
Panromantic
radio host
agent
as flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport
TAG WITH @chryssa
chryssa glasgow
shepherd [priam]
POSTED ON Nov 26, 2020 2:07:33 GMT
The boat was buffeted like a leaf in a gale, its hull shuddering as the waves rocked it. Chryssa was only narrowly saved by Priam as she fell and slid along the floor of the boat, sliding towards the opposite railing. She seized the back of the driver’s seat with both hands, the GPS gone, bruises already forming under her sensitive skin.
She had a habit of putting her life into other people’s hands.
“I said, it’s coming,” Chryssa repeated herself, dazed. She couldn’t take her eyes off the sight as the misty, translucent branches streamed up from the water, joining and braiding together. At long last, a ghostly visage rose up at the heart of them. It was not so much a face as a mask, a piece of white coral mosaic whose vessel had been broken. Something else was floating inside the main mass of the creature’s body as well: a small, pink shape that looked somehow... familiar.
“Oh dear. It appears to have captured the researcher’s Corsola,” Chryssa said, trying to sound sympathetic. Well, they had been using it as bait, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected.
Ten other hazy, ectoplasmic antlers bristled from the water, each bearing another trapped and paralyzed Corsola. Their pink color seemed dull, faded, and some had turned an ashy gray. “Aha! Yes! I’ve got it!” Chryssa exclaimed, tone entirely inappropriate for the scenario. She snapped her fingers. “A vengeful spirit crawls along the sea floor, looking for vestiges of its lost life. For some reason it is drawn to these creatures. Its family? Its friends?” Her eyes blazed as she kept narrating. “But everything it touches fades, and its attempts only hurt them more!”
Taking advantage of the momentarily stable boat, she stood up despite her bruises, pointing gleefully at the Cursola. “You who trawl the sea for memory, and feed on the living to take back what you’ve lost! The Corsola breeding grounds are a place for new life, not for those who cling to life long passed.”
Chryssa paused dramatically. “You will never be with them. So begone!”
Unsurprisingly, the floating face didn’t seem to like that. It scowled, hollow mouth twisting bitterly. Whatever its real motivation was, Chryssa certainly had not endeared herself to it. More horns bristled out of the waves, shooting towards the boat.
The blue-white light of Ice Beam flickered across the water as Ness resurfaced, the Lapras sweeping the incoming rush of spikes with the beam of crackling cold. Frozen, the ectoplasmic tendrils no longer seemed so insubstantial. Perhaps, they could be broken... corsola conservation | priam conrad <the creature> appears! it’s cursola!
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