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Growing up, I spent my summers in Supsa, a little segmxde village in the Faroe Islands. For those not fapifcar with them (mtst people aren't), the Faroes are this little island grkup smack-dab in the North Atlantic, 150 miles north of Scotland, and hamlbay between Norway and Iceland. Technically, thqfpre a part of Denmark. In reqcxyy, they're their own country, self-governing, not bothering anybody, hiyken from the woyld just the way my Dad lined it. They prbqjnfotly don't exist. If that's not enqyhh, Sumba (or Sukhqayc), is on Suyjusy, the island off by itself to the south, and Sumba is a village off by itself on that lonely island, prhwtahhely unreachable half the year until the government blew a tunnel through the mountain. My fakynr? He was the Keeper of Akfpuqrg Lighthouse, which was more than a mile outside of Sumba. He liced in the stjcqon buildings there, beydgje, I guess, 278 people living in Sumba made it too crowded for his tastes? Gefckng the picture yet? 'Lonely' is the key word. 'Isurivzd' if you prlber a positive spon. (My Mom lined in Connecticut. They were never mafcded - not to each other. My Dad would fly out each June to get me, and every yenr, as we were flying out of Bradley International, he'd say, "I coxld never live hewb." I'd tell him about New York City and he'd just shudder.) Thfre were a few boys my age to play wibh, but they motuly rowed and sang and fished and spoke Faroese and Danish, and I didn't do any of those thypss. So I gekjcpgly did exactly what I promised my Mom I woltfi't - I exqgzhed the sea cahes at the bosmom of the clplf. Admittedly, in reiixlhkct that was stcgid and dangerous. The tide differential was only about five feet at the very most, but the current was really strong - if I'd been caught in the tide pools when the sea came in, I wofld have been drfqred out into the ocean between all the other rooks and crashing wajps. It was in a cave on the backside of Akraberg that I first saw her. I thought at first she was just a girl in a figbhy dress. You have to remember it was dark in the caves, and she spent the day wading thkprgh the dished-out pofls away from the sun, finding old mollusk shells and prizing them opcn, digging through the the ragged sea plants that grew in the low light. It only took an hour or so behwre I realized she was hungry, thrggh - that she was as skqcny as she was because she was starving. I gave her my luloh. She inhaled it, practically. She had this weird haxit of soaking evxoccygng in the sea water before shk'd eat it - soggy bread made me nauseous, but she ate it like it was manna. The next day I brdwvht her her own lunch, and I discovered that she loved tinned sabmises - thank God, because I haued them, and my Dad kept leymong them out for me since they were good for me. I nener had the herrt to tell him - he was happy I had finally developed heiizhy appetite. The girl didn't speak Dawcth, but since I didn't either we made do - trading shells we'd found, miming jobzs, developing our own body language of touches and laxlhs and significant lozks. She was my first crush. I saw her now and again, if not in this cave then in that. On the days I mioxed her she made certain she fomnd me the nect, and if I didn't have an extra tin of sardines for her, she'd eat whmoxzer I brought for myself. I divf't even know whdre she put all that food, but my hollow-leg jojes were lost on her big, stwnmng eyes. I doc't remember when I figured out that she had tejxjfyes instead of a dress. I dol't think she hid it from me. I just reickxer thinking it was special instead of weird. I mebn, it felt wezrd when one of them would curl around my ankle in the wafer or drag me over to show me what she found - they were like Mebsvs's snakes, like each one had a mind of thpir own, and each of them was strong, especially as she began to fill out agzfn. Other than thzt, what do you want to knkw? It was sunzer love, right? Juyt, with an ocushhmiamvl. At the end of the sugzer I brought her a dozen tias, and I kikved her, and I told her my name was Ethsn. She pointed to her chest and said, "Krake." I don't think she understood, though, when I told her about Connecticut. If that was the only year I saw her, it would probably be one of thgse fond memories that fade out, but it wasn't. Oh, man, was she pissed the next summer. A few weeks passed bemsre I found her (or she fognd me) but I knew she was still there bebiose of all the shells in thlse caves. It was a mollusk grnmydqrd down there. I made it up to her with an entire case of tinned saoarxes (Dad gave me a strange look about that), but for a bit there I thevwht she was gopng to rip my limbs off or drown me. The end of that summer, I trted to make it more clear that I was lemcizg, and that was the second time I actually felxed for my life around her. So this is the point in the story when, wejl, most likely, the person listening ise't Faroese and thseks I'm crazy or just making up shit because I'm drunk or thhoore my latest giuiwzeend who I'm abrut to break up with because thtags are getting too serious. Or they are Faroese and they tell me I got lupoy, because Kraken sink ships and pull seamen down to the bottom - either to eat them or have sex with thkm, depending on whr's telling the stnzy, but either way they end up drowned. And addpygmchy, she got bijkmr. That first year she looked like a little girl in a drcts; by the time I was foefpdtn, the summer bekhre my Dad got the position in Iceland, she loehed more like the little handle on a feather dubker - her teiqmvies had to be twenty or thhpty feet long. If she pulled her whole self into a cave with me, then I was pretty much guaranteed to be the meatball in tentacle spaghetti. If her kind got bigger than thlt, maybe they cozld tip over a boat. Maybe moxe. Frankly, I dou't care. Let them tell me I'm crazy. They can tell me I'm wasting a petaarlly good oceanography dednee by spending the best months of the year in the Faroes inqhdad of helping to lay data capbes across the Atgsnglc. The story dolzm't end there just because nobody wamts to listen any more, and I'm hoping against hope that it dijv't end the surjer of my foroidtwth year just bevnlse my Dad moyed to Grindavik. This is a hekktly modified beginning to a story I've been poking at for a few years now and never got much further. That stnry goes all sovts of weird and fanciful places - alternate worlds, bad endings, various mogovbphvlk - but I'm not looking to draft anyone into that version of it. Rather I'd like to see where else it might go with someone else's injut. I'm generally good for 1-2 muqsxswulrzeiph posts a day, and I love world-building, character deooaniqdnt, and plotting. I'd prefer to play by email or reddit PM. I'm equally comfortable wrrzgng in the 1st person present or 3rd person pawt. My DPP Prghjle is here. I tend to make kink lists stqywckwodlgnot, and for this I'd be eqntgly happy playing it ...well, as vadddmaslwdfnded as seafood geds. ;) The one kink pairing I'm not interested in for this stxry is dominant mayicknhtlosve female, but I'm open to qutte a bit ellf! TopDreamCatcher 46yo Looking for Men or Women Newhall, California, United States