Tuesday, 27 November 2012

when the girl with the pink hair hits the stage, you'll say you knew here before she began

tonight i'm going to see nicki minaj for the first time and i'm pretty unashamedly excited about it.

here's a few photos of my outfit which i took with my iphone...not as high quality as anything jade takes, but that's not the point.

i've been listening to nicki since the summer of 2008. through that time i was listening to some questionable music and i had a possibly ironic/non-ironic interest in jeffree star (hey, i like c-grade pop music) and she featured on one of the tracks. at this point.

people have raised the point that nicki minaj is "anti-feminist" and that her decision to dye her hair blonde and to get ass implants is some kind of patriarchal set-up...which i personally believe to be a load of garbage.

Sunday, 25 November 2012

if you would have told me then, i would have made an effort to come back

in a continuation from what i've been saying about adelaide, i could mention that unlike other major cities, it's very easy to exhaust almost every option of places to and people to see in this city. whenever something new opens up or a new thing is discovered by me i feel a rush of excitement to go there, and then feel strangely empty once i've experienced it. this cycle continues. it never ends. so it reached the point for me that i wanted to delve a little deeper and explore some interesting places that generally aren't meant for the public eye.

jade and i have a knack for breaking into abandoned buildings (usually with the help of our savvy friends) and this friday was no different. we went to a warehouse somewhere north of adelaide and took photos. i have to say that the space is excellent and probably one of my favourite places i've been so far, which is partly due to the awesome art, and the sheer science fiction vibe i got from it. it would be really cool if someone did some sort of party or show in here sometime...if they could pull it off.

after we searched around for a bit, we decided to experiment with different angles and styles of photo. i'd just got my hair done on this day and did not intend for myself to have a purple fringe/bangs.

(i'm wearing a ysl shirt, slim slacks from american apparel, and boots from vegetarian shoes.co.uk)

Saturday, 24 November 2012


was thinking about the unique situations of where i was born and raised today. so often i have taken for granted that i reside in a somewhat sleepy capital city called adelaide. i was born in 1992 in ashford hospital. both of my parents were in the room, as well as my grandmother, which she says was one of the most incredible moments of her life and perhaps why we remain so close today. it was around 1:30 in the morning. i grew up to be quiet a docile and quiet child. i was always asking my mother what certain words meant or what phrases meant and that this was one of the few attempts at conversation i would make in between constantly reading (or as my mother would say, devouring) books far beyond my age limit. i have memories of weaving in and out of people on rundle street or on the norwood parade while i clung tightly to my the hand of either my mother or father, feeling enraptured in the feeling of where i was, being jostled continually by a sea of people: and often, this was made all the more hard by the book i would have been reading at the same time. it was impossible for me to stop building my fantasies, and it was even harder for my parents to refuse my invitations into every bookstore i see. the angus and robertson near the crossing in the norwood parade has been visited so many times by me that it is quintessentially one of the things that i remember most about this town. so in this way, adelaide has quite a unique feeling and meaning for me, always the backdrop for some creation inside my head, always appearing over the top of some pages, a glint out of the corner of my eye.

the situations of some people are so helpless and filled with hardships and in comparison adelaide is unspeakably beautiful, like a friend who is always in the corner and will help you out when you're in need. never obnoxious, but exciting in their own understated way. we are not decimated by war or overtly affected by poverty and death. it's so easy to make a mark in adelaide but still the right size to hide when you feel like you want noone to see you. i'm grateful that if i want to achieve something i have just the right amount of people for it to have an effect and for the rest of the world to hear it, while still having the freedom for it to be a practice pad for something else if i decide to reach higher.

when you know the right people a place can be filled with a completely different light: where once before it was tired and uninteresting, it becomes even more like a home, with hidden places opening up like you have a secret passcode, a 2nd home unravelling itself slowly and beautifully. it's like knowing the cheat codes to your favourite video games, like knowing exactly when to jump on that super mario level, and finding the hidden pipe that takes you to the 8th level. with my mind i can paint the city with new shades of gold, and drape the grey with strokes of aquamarine. your location does not define you but the attitude and the things that you make of it does.

from the highest building in the epicentre of the city the roman structures below seem to glow with a light befitting of a city three times it's size. in certain places i'll turn unknowingly down streets and feel like i've captured a little pocket of new york...at least until i reach the big apple myself, for whatever reason.

so much hatred has been aimed at me from the ants in this city, but the butterflies are the ones who matter, and the power of a butterflies wings can cause a cyclone.

Friday, 23 November 2012

you were a medic

Patience taught me that every second was a rabble, full of moments and anxious motives. Trap my broken words and keep them together.
String me out, string my whole rib cage out on your table, dismantle my bones one by one, carefully like a student.
Approach every feeling that I have with a keen eye. Everything you said kept me at bay. What you did was unfair, yet you thought it necessary.
You're just a repetition, a link in the chain I faced my whole life.
I wonder if we can detach and be more than the skeletons our mothers and fathers set us to be. If i wandered over, could I break through, keep a space between my ghost and your shadow?
Whatever you do, law low and keep your ears to the ground when I open up. I am coming soon.

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Believe in yourself and believe in the lightning

to make dealing with the dull and discouraging moments of our life it's often necessary to escape to some sort of fantasy. whether that be a complete fabrication or a slight romanticisation of the unique situations in our life depends on the individual. a plane of existence where we call the shots and determine the unique paths we travel in. interpret that as you will.

"believe in yourself and believe in the lightning" was something i said once half-jokingly...and it sort of represents the kind of beauty i see in everyday situations. we have so much untapped potential as stationery, socially adherent human animals. the lightning is that spark inside everyone which carries our true purpose, our "destiny" if you will, and the electricity to carve out our futures varies from person to person.

for many years i was very skeptical about how i felt in terms of my belief system. it's so comforting to believe that there's an omnipresent being guiding our paths and making sure we're doing ok. i often feel like there's some sort of divine energy or energy system leading through all of us and making us who we are. i guess that's my way of coping with the inherent evil and destructive nature of the world and universe. however, i think it's much more romantic to think of the world and everyone on it being spontaneously created for no reason. no god. no mary. no joseph. you know why? this knowledge gives us the power to shape our own destinies and make whatever we want of ourselves, because what could truly matter? nothing is holding you back.

lightning is powerful and beautiful. it's such a teenage thing to believe we're unlimited in our capabilities and decisions. truly, so little people have a strong belief that they have power over their lives. i become more and more attuned to this realisation everyday. it happens everytime i take a step without guidance and i get better with practice.

The symbolism of lightning to me is powerful, beautiful and appeals to me for some unspoken reason. It does bring to mind the majesty of nature, glam rock and david bowie (and thus freedom of self expression), and finally, my childhood: this could probably be to the books i read when i was younger like harry potter. It's dynamic and inspiring.

so, the words put together make the most sense to me. believe in the unique energy you hold over your own life. believe that you have incredible power to change into whatever you want and move in whatever way you feel is natural to you. show the world what you're made of.


Friday, 16 November 2012

tale of the strong female characters

One of my favourite internet web artists (if you could even call her that) is kate beaton. her witty, sometimes charming, always referential comic strips touch upon characters in history, feminism and literature to name a few. contrary to popular belief, women ARE funny and so many female comic strip writers prove this to me constantly. this was a short story i wrote inspired by a series of comics she wrote entitled "strong female characters." i found that they so effectively poked fun at how horribly and inaccurately women were portrayed in comics. female heroins are so often depicted as overly sexualised just to show how empowered they are, which i think is slowly, slowly changing. this was eventually put into a zine i was a part of called "heroes" and will probably be put into the 2nd issue of vaein.

(all images copyright to kate beaton.)

It was a quiet, blue and dewy morning in the city of Goth-hams - yes! quite the name for a town so often overrun by villains and crime. Some say it was more of a nickname, spread amongst the citizens as a joke, referring to the town's high population of brooding teenagers and delicatessens that offered fine meats. Some say it was an inside joke referring to a city overcome with REAL crime...but noone ever listened to such derogatory claptrap in Goth-hams.

A single bird adjusted itself fussily in it's nest and twittered softly above the town hall, which by the way, had been built, with some sort of generic roman architectural idea in mind. It was a bit of an eyesore in the opinion of many citizens, and looked rather out of place in comparison to the dingy, commercial looking shopping mall across the road. The steps were plastered with pigeon excrement, litter and a few spots of graffiti, which unfortunately was one of the few colourful things about this building. The lawn out in front of the town hall was cultivated in a spherical shape, with a fountain placed crudely in the middle: not much care had been taken in placing this addition, as it intruded slightly upon the greenery surrounding it and it functioned more as a child's swimming pool. It babbled lazily amidst the morning air as if to say "well, i tried." Yes. "Goth-hams" was not just a city of fashionable mall-goths, but also a city of disappointments  Somewhat.

But maybe this was not such an accurate conclusion to draw, for just following this description an alarm sounds somewhere, breaking through the pleasant bird song- the town hall was being invaded! A few people who had been awake at this hour poured into the streets, looking around frantically for the noise. There was a collective pause as all eyes were on the town hall, waiting for action: quite suddenly, it was obvious who had caused the commotion.

Danger dave!

oh yes, you may cringe at the name, but his name WAS dave, and he was POSSIBLY  dangerous. The unmistakeable sound of misdeeds cracked through the air like a bolt of lightning as the doors to the hall slammed open to reveal a rotund and strangely dressed man standing in the entrance. he wasted no time dilly-dallying and leapt neatly down the steps, landing with a soft thud, his knees braced for impact. He looked around triumphantly, saw that noone was around to apprehend him, and gave a sinister laugh. Danger Dave ran off faster than you can say "cardiac arrest" with an unidentified bag under his arms.

This would all be very well and good for danger dave, had he had forgotten about a series of dashing heroes...a series of heroes with unnatural flexibility and a tendency to wear provocative and revealing clothing...


with one efficient *thwack* jenni, the first of the group, apprehended the thief. He fell to the ground somewhat lamely, a dull "oof" emerging from his mouth and nothing more. he rolled around on the ground a bit while Jennie stood over him, striking a pose of victory. "You will never win against us!" she yelled, her voice booming across the courtyard. onlookers were very impressed and began clapping.

"Indeed! and we shall be returning these items at once! Said Harley, the 2nd hero, her cone bra wobbling precariously as she approached the two. Her muscular, strong legs stood out rather obviously amongst the more conservatively clothed civilians. "Don't you know that we are strong female characters, and can do whatever we please to win justice?" She began to massage her cone brace suggestively, the shape starting large when attached to the body, and trailing off to a small insignificant point: a poignant reminder of madonna's career.

A jeering laugh was heard behind them and the three turned around dramatically to face Adelle, who was casually holding her leg above her head and forming a silhouette against the rising sun. "Oh, my apologies! I was just showing off my incredible flexibility and proving how sexually liberated I was!" She lowered her leg with a chuckle and adjusted her leather g-string. "However, i ultimately would like to settle down with a weak male lead- i mean, someone nice." she added, answering a question that absolutely noone asked.

I think we've done all we can for today, girls." Said Jenni, who had now taken to using danger Dave's face as a chair. The villain could be heard trying to say something in protest but jenni thwacked him once again with her cone bra (which had been recently fitted with extendable options.) Adelle fingered her leather gun-holder and inhaled a drag from a cigarette, which had been hastily offered to her by a passer-by.

I do agree, Jenni" said Adelle, nodding. "We have better things to do, like shopping at outrageously overpriced chain stores and then destroying any man that holds a door open for us." She suddenly turned and glared a man ogling her backside, who ran off with a squeal into the distance.

At this point Dave's small face was blue due to the lack of oxygen and his eyeballs looked like they were about to pop out (in addition to his general discomfort in being forced to lay down on weathered pavement.) Harley ignored this and fired her pistol, which she had many of, mind you, into the air in order to assert her dominance.

Off in the distance, Harley noticed a man start a conversation with an unsuspecting girl on the street. A harmless exchange perhaps, but was it really...an unspeakable crime...an incident of STREET HARASSMENT?! She slowly brought her sunglasses out of her leather gun-holder and carefully positioned them on her face, making a grimace.

"he is DEAD. it's time for retribution girls."

the other two nodded sagely, and as they leapt off into the distance, time slowed down and the camera panned to catch a good, wide-angled shot of their posteriors.

They were women, god-dammit, and they had rights!

These were the STRONG FEMALE CHARACTERS!! Stay tuned for the next installation!

Thursday, 15 November 2012

a very happy and belated halloween to ALL OF you

HALLOWEEN!!! it kinda bums me out that i haven't made a halloween post, and that this one is so late because i've been so excited to write and post about it for so long. there are many interesting posts that could be shared. so i guess i'll just talk about my personal history with the holiday.

my first proper halloween would have to be last year. why so late? for those reading from australia (which would obviously be most of you) you'd understand that probably 5% of families properly celebrate halloween, and many people just use it as an excuse to party or, as mean girls so famously said "dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it."

my family fit into the "it's american so we don't do it" category.

last year i went trick or treating with chris, debbie and joe around joe's neighbourhood, and as i recall, we did it kinda late so our luck of getting anything was pretty low. i believe only a few houses gave us candy. i dressed up as fever ray, debbie dressed up as dark magician girl and chris was a ghost. if i recall correctly.

in my opinion, this has always been kind of a silly excuse and a bit of crowd-following mixed with tired australian pride. especially considering a lot of my mother's disgust towards the holiday was non-existent until ENGLISH children moved in to the house across the road from us and came trick or treating one day, to which my mum pursed her lips, smiled once with an effort that looked like it cost her a lot of pain, and offered up the last remnants of her secret cadbury chocolate stockpile.

this year i took it upon my self to think long and hard about what i wanted to do for halloween long before decorations were up for sale. for a long time friends, strangers and anonymous askers on various social media sites (formspring, and then later on tumblr) would send me things saying,

"have you ever been told you look like brendon urie???????"

honestly, while i was a big panic! fan when i was a younger teen, i never really saw any comparison or similarity- probably because i had longer hair during my teenage years. this year I decided to make a tongue in cheek reference to that while acknowledging one of the more poppier bands i used to listen to on a daily basis.

not only did i go to a halloween party at Alicia's house, which was lovely and warm and small and full of good vibes, but I also went to a games night with my friends millie, rach and bri, where we played pictionary and talked about people for what felt like hours.

usually my hair is a similar brown to brendon's, but as blue is my go-to hair colour as of late (and it'll probably remain that way for a while) i covered up as much as I could with this hat, which I got from a costume store off of hindley street. the gloves were from the same store. someone suggested i wear them outside of my outfit as well, which i will definitely take into account.

most of the pieces of clothing were things i already owned and organised (the jacket is from marc by marc, the bowtie was my dad's old one, the skull is from charlavail, the waistcoat is vintage, as is the shirt) which made this an easy and fun costume to assemble.

my 2nd attempt at using disposable cameras was much better than my first. i decided that it was essential to document our games night in one full camera (it contains about 27 shots, and i got it from the reject shop in town for $5)

(we won pictionary)


Thursday, 8 November 2012

lessons on how to love yourself in a series of epilogues

look into the mirror, say, "i love my hand-me down glasses and my china doll hair, cut by the man down the street."
throw away the parts of you that weigh you down. push away the murky waters like they're really nothing at all.
watch the smile grow on the boy's mouth when you raise your camera hesitantly, and click away with a steady precision.
start loving your awkward floppy walk, hug yourself on the inside, start taking notes.
notice how when the smile comes out of your mouth it's awkward and jangly, and begin liking it anyway, because it's fully, wholly your own, and that's all you can do.
breathe in the sunsets that happen every day at the same time, bather yourself in the fiery glow before the stars come out.
start noticing how the white lines on your under-arms, raised like a series of calculated goosebumps, are just old reminders of bad scenery. nothing more.
move quickly through the sadness, don't give the deadweight your time of day.
start to do things. only listen to your brain when it offers you things you like, and keep it silent every other day. eventually it'll learn to only give you the suggestions you like.
do not panic. do not draw the meaning out of things and scream when nothing comes. do not expect the magic to come when it is called. it'll come when you stop looking for it.
don't go overboard because you feel like you have to. but change when you feel like you want to and stay when you feel like you should.
take the steps you need to take. take the steps you think you deserve.
remember that you deserve the steps more than anyone else.

Wednesday, 7 November 2012

Freezing above the stratosphere

i forgot to post about an impromptu photo taking session that jade and I did, and i had some photos developed, and i wrote a few things, and so instead of doing different posts i think i'll put it all together.

sneaking into abandoned, disused or secret places has actually become a past-time of jade and me. a little while ago we got into electra house and took some photos.

(with millie)
(in these photos i am wearing cheap monday jeans, synethetic leather tuk creepers, zuboutique shirt and american apparel suspenders. i achieved the eyebrows with a combination of blue eyeshadow and lipstick.)

it was very dark, and ominous sounds echoed from the basement. it sounded like a pipe had broken and had somewhat flooded certain areas, where crates and boards of wood had been placed to ensure safe footing. for who? i have no idea. i imagine it'd be for construction workers of some kind but it's more romantic (or mysterious?) to pretend it was for some other reason.

these photos were taken in very disparate situations, but the bottom two were at the art exhibition of my friend kat botten, and the first is of my friend cordelia. these were the few that turned out well. i'm still getting used to disposable film! it's fun but that's all i think of it as really. if i ever call myself a photographer you have permission to shoot me.

uni is all finished for the year which means i have enough time to do crafts, work on vaein zine, spend time with my grandparents and friends, go on adventures with people, take photos, go to art exhibitions and shows, and spend my nights mindlessly dancing away to horrible techno.

and theeeen this recent photo taking thing was on top of the unisa building. getting in there originall with jon and daniel was pretty easy when we followed a student inside. the 2nd time, when it was just Jade and I, was not as accessible. nonetheless, we found a way, and it was magnificent. i dressed up as my celestial ocean form.

(shirt is from st. vinnies vintage store, AA suspenders (again), handmade seashell button cover, accessories from ebay, nailpolish from the nicki minaj OPI collection, haus of howe pants, and vegetarian shoes creepers.)

my grandmother and i have recently taken to customising and making quite a lot of things to make myself happy. in the future i think it'd be really cool to have some sort of clothing line, because i'm always buzzing with ideas, so i think this is a good start.

i also celebrated my 8th year friendversary with my bff debbie...

...who got her hair cut like this!

this was needed after my big spiel of poems, writing pieces and ramblings. there should be more to add here but i can't be bothered. ok, bye!


Thursday, 1 November 2012

Hollow Depths

I must be a mermaid, Rango. I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living.”
-Anaïs Nin
His head broke the surface, showering glistening drops of water in the stratosphere and shattering the tension of the air above. His eyes blinked slowly, trying to take in his new environment. All around, the copse seemed to thrum with an unseen magic, a scene from what the humans would call a “film” and it was necessary to point out this foreign concept because he was not a human. He was a creature spoken of in mythology, touched upon in fairytales, and believed to be the stuff only seen by crazed, alcoholic sailors.
He was a merman.
The half breed breathed steadily and surveyed his surroundings with curious eyes. He had only ever been to the surface once. It was generally something not done amongst his kind and only in emergencies, for the sighting of a merperson by a human could be seen as catastrophic. In the past, yes, merpeople were more playful with their human cousins, teasing boat people and showing up to garner amusement from their reactions, but merpeople weren’t stupid. The days of gods and mythology were behind them, and they knew that human kind had developed. They had developed to a point that they were now a threat to the underwater kingdom. The advent of cameras, and even more recently camera phones, meant that no Aquarius was safe.
And could you imagine what would happen if a merperson was properly sighted?
Oh, the humans would try their best to communicate, of course. They would be very patient, very methodical. But it was only a matter of time before they found reasons to begin the dissecting. Merpeople had the distinct advantage of spying on humankind while the land walkers stayed blissfully unaware of the fish people that lived under the water. There were still people that communicated with the merpeople, like the Inuit’s that lived in the land of ice and blood. They considered merpeople sacred, and would never dare to reveal anything about them to the arrogant white folk.
His name was Gawain (well, this was as close as his name could be interpreted into the English language, given the complexities of his native tongue) and he was aware of the dangers that the above world posed him. He had been taught it from a very young age, when he resembled something closer to an amphibian than a human.
He chose to take a very slow, steady stroke to the riverbank, and rested his strong, powerful arms upon the muddy, grassy edge. His skin shimmered strangely in the sunlight, and the mint green film that covered his body was much more visible from this angle. His body was wonderfully toned and he looked not unlike an Olympic swimmer, though such a physique would be expected from someone who spent their life in the water. Despite looking like some sort of mythological creature, a huge scar covered his back and his left arm- huge and unsightly, it looked like it had been there for many years. Gawain himself did not seem at all phased about it, so enraptured was he in this new environment. The skin that had healed over the scar was a strange, alien sort of green, and only on his scar were veins visible. Purple, blue and sometimes red, they sprawled across the surface area of the scar, like some sort of translucent glass panel into the inner working of his body. It was very uncommon for mermaids to be scarred in general, due mainly to the healing abilities of a salty sea water environment, as well as the technology of the merpeople, but his was a special case. His upper left arm had lost some function due to the accident that had caused it and Gawain kept it loose and relaxed as he looked side to side, taking in the lush, green surroundings. He listened carefully to the chorus of birds communicating with one another and the calming sound of water trickling into the sea. Butterflies and other insects fluttered through the glade in a scene reminiscent of a fairytale, their colourful bodies perfectly complimenting this part of nature that had been placed under the category of “wildlife reserve” by the white people. To Gawain, all these concepts were still very new. He would be breath taken if his mission wasn’t so dire, if his presence was not to find something that had been lost to his people. He flicked his tail playfully through the water, reflecting the sunlight off of his transparent scales. The curious batch of fish that had begun gathering around his stationary form flittered away at this sudden movement. A colourful bird looked upon him from a tree, chirping softly; unaware of the true magnitude this half human was bringing by coming to the secluded forest.
Gawain’s reverie was broken by a rustle somewhere to his left and he immediately pricked his ears, looking for the source of the sound. His senses were a little out of touch when he was above water and his anxiety was at its peak. For a few short seconds he tensed, his eyes trained carefully on a solitary bush just a few feet away from him. He was mistaken in believing it was some sort of threat, however, as a small family of ducks emerged from the undergrowth and walked placidly across the grass, carrying themselves across the water. He relaxed once again. This environment seemed safe but he had been told to keep on guard. His eyes scanned over the area one more time, noticing nothing interesting, nothing that he had been told to look for, no sort of special plant life or trace that some of his ancestors may have been here, something that would change the very meaning of life for the merpeople if it were to be discovered.
Gawain had seen all that he had needed here. The thing that his people had planted here hundreds of years ago was not in immediate sight. He turned his body in a way that would have proved impossible for humans and plunged his head in the water, bringing his hands up to his ears and covering them in order to focus himself. He closed his eyes and uttered a series of clicks, whistles and whines into the water, thinking deeply as they carried their way down into the deeper ocean. A human watching over would have found this very odd indeed, and perhaps have been scared by such a strange display, but there was nothing to be afraid of. Gawain opened his eyes and waited a few seconds before the information he was after bounced back. Underneath him for a few miles was nothing but harmless sea creatures, some small sharks and a dolphin- nothing he wasn’t familiar with. The echolocation technique had told him all he needed to know about the journey he would be taking back to the kingdom, and if he had a few dolphins to keep him company until they hit the deeper oceans, why would he complain? As a young merman he was taken to the shallower depths on very special locations, and only when his family knew there would be no interaction from human life. Their chameleon like skin was most useful in these instances. The thought of playing with young dolphins, flitting through the water and squeaking with laughter as they head butted him as part of their games filled him with a strong sense of nostalgia, and a calm remembrance of a simpler time.
The merboy lifted his head above the water again and looked plaintively around the small glade. Perfect. Untouched. Yet, it hid something and it would not yield. This would not last too long and somehow, Gawain felt, the beauty of this place would likely be destroyed in the search. He frowned once, unsatisfied, and dove into the water, his only witnesses being some some birds that watched him from a nearby tree, exchanging what could only be described as looks of confusion.

The underwater kingdom was everything you’d imagine it to be, full of splendour and beauty, and yet, completely beyond our reach of imagination of humans. Since the capture and crucifixion of a merman prince thousands of years ago, this particular tribe of merpeople had taken extra precautions for protecting their own kind. They took refuge into the darkest, most sinister parts of the ocean, where not even certain sea creatures could survive, and began to build tunnels. Using technology and natural abilities that only the merpeople were capable of, they created a new way of living, a brand new colony to live in relative safety. As always, there was conflict when this first occurred. Many merpeople had not been happy with this decision, the decision to run away scared, their tails between their legs at the first sign of catastrophe. But no, this was not just any old sighting from a human- their prince had been captured, and had been forced to masquerade as a human just to protect their kind. They had heard tales over time from fisherman, from the Intuits’ (who kept in contact with western civilisation enough to know what was happening in the world) and from tuning the sounds of intelligent sea animals that carried across the water. The prince was noble, he was selfless and kind and he had protected the merpeople from discovery and certain destruction. In fact, the humans had been so taken by this prince, who they had convinced themselves was a child of some sky wizard deity, that they had formed a completely new religion in his honour. He could turn water to wine, and he could heal the sick! Well, changing the chemical nature of water was something even the smallest merchildren could do, and all of the meisaltze royalty had been trained in healing at some point, so this was not very impressive. In the eyes of humans, who at the time were on the verge of great changes amongst their people, his presence was nothing but supernatural.
The Great Separation, as it was called, had occurred sometime after that. The merpeople, who at the time had three colonies in different parts of the oceans, broke into smaller groups. While the regultas, the merpeople that had stayed in their original spot, had disagreed with hiding themselves out of fear and acting like victims, the mursailtze took refuge into the dark, deep parts of the ocean that only the most advanced of human technology could navigate. Tension between the two tribes was heavy and communication was sparse between both of them as the mursailtze built great domes to create their city, while channelling out tunnels to create a civilisation. They were very rarely threatened by the outside world or by menacing sea creatures and thus, there was very rarely any sort of inner struggle. The regultas, on the other hand, broke apart on regular occasions, living alone in the ruins of sunken ships, or in small villages together. All the while their echolocation techniques (which would scatter even the most sophisticated human technology) and innate camouflage ability kept them safe...but it was only a matter of time before things evolved and they were no longer safe.
Gawain moved his tail back and forward as he swam deeper and deeper into the Dark Ocean, the name of the waters where his kingdom was held. He moved through a tunnel with an entrance covered with seaweed, adjusting his eyes to the minimal amount of light, and made it through to the other side. The grand, glistening city of Marathea lay sprawled out beneath him. Breathtaking and beautiful, the huge, glass-looking domes fit in perfectly with the natural setting. Strange, wonderful and dazzlign varieties of fish moved around him and throughout the city, not caring about the kingdom they were a part of. Gawain moved down to the bottom and approached the 2nd largest dome, noticing the circular shape that could only be a door, and noticing the hand-imprint upon this distinct shape. He took a look at his hand- the two, small fin-like protrusions seemed to become more obvious and purpler in the presence of this door. He slowly, tentatively moved his hand towards the imprint and placed his hand inside of it, the fin attachments on his hand perfectly fitting inside two separate slots. He closed his eyes and began to mutter something.
The door began to glow.