I was watching Young Justice, Blackfish, and Young Justice Invasion in exactly that order. I don't what this is, but I'm a little embarrassed so I made another account because I don't want to interfere with my other condom joke filled stories. Please judge this nicely. It's one of these unusual ideas.
Prologue: You will be like WHAT? In a confused way. I understand but if I don't have start this with something I won't have the motivation to continue. Probably will delete this prologue later when the story is a fully formed baby with a proper chapter 1, but for right now I need feedback. Follow and Chapter 1 will actually have characters that make sense and plot and timeline and ramble and ramble...
Apparently Microsoft Word said a lot of these words don't exist. I have to admit; I would never use some of these words in a regular conversation.
Enjoy.
Male pronouns=Our favorite blue bird
He'd been waiting for this moment for a long time. He didn't have to keep Zache and Simzha safe, swimming his anfractuous laps to keep them from hitting the walls. He watched as the staff constellated the others from their pools, pulling them up on crane supported stretchers, with their limbs put in the carefully cut circle. He'd heard the large sharp whistle calls of the pilot whale and her sharp tail slaps as the people irritated her, Kenya. She whistled to her baby, calming calls even as she herself quivered from fear. He knew she expected that she was getting the Transfer. She didn't understand the flurry of people speaking in a language she did not know as they rounded her up from her watery cell.
Zache and Simzha in the act of natation in circles around the pool while clicking in their nonsense baby language were watching the people in uniform come through the empty doors where staff usually were only allowed to pass through. He could barely move in the medical pool while Zache and Simzha swam their playful circles. He watched as the rested their heads at the top of the pools to watch a lady with long red hair.
Red hair. It'd been a long time since he'd seen it, not many people here had it. He watched the women's hair fly around her face as he leaned down on her knees to coo to Zache and Simzha. Her hair was fake red, the borderline purple kind. She didn't have hair like them.
Them. Who were they? Probably someone from before they netted him, he guessed. He remembered a girl, and a boy. But it was long ago, hazed like his past and hazed like the cyanic water. He knew there was a family there, but nightmares of crashing down—and nightmares with people he didn't know but should have crashing down to their deaths—plagued him, all written down in a mental lactarium to be played over and over again. He blew air in a thin stream, making the people in uniforms jump at the long sound. Some looked worried, while most giggled. He didn't understand he wasn't trying to be funny.
He'd been held in his captivity so long, he wanted to be freed right that second and be in the thalassic waters, but he remained worried of the people to come and disenthrall him. They were questionable. He had been taught to never trust anyone. He'd hated that rule.
Who'd made the rule?
As they'd covered him in lanolin, he closed his eyes as the stinging water was sucked from under him and he was put in a box on the back of a truck.
Who'd made the rule not to trust anyone? B was all he could remember. As he was freed from his watery captivity and pulled from the tank, he tried to remember past before all the behaviors he'd been forced to learn, before being forced fed the drugs, before being taught to swim around a pool and touch a ball with his nose for food. He tried to remember before he was turned into an animal, and before he was captured. Back to when a man named B haunted his locked memories. The eucatastrophe was far from near.