Fetzen
Megsychan
GubGar
Izurich
Shin Ghost Note
Tim the Yeti
Damycles
HillanCATHERINE CORIANDER
CHARACTER DESCRIPTION:
Tucked away on Melody Island, where the forests seem to rustle with rhythm, is the farming town of Tune. One might have to walk a mile to the stream and back to fetch water in the summer when the well is dry, and winters are so biting that one would want to keep well indoors, but the island is a font of peace even in the East, not possessing strategic positioning worth capturing, and lacking in material worth since the mine dried up (shy of an ancient ruin that has attracted a number of archaeologists over the years). And perhaps the sweetest note in this village is Catherine Coriander, a teenage nun at the local church with the ability to see the fun and wonder in just about every part of her mundane life. The biggest sister to the youngsters of the village, she’s no stranger to getting in trouble with her avid curiosity, but her years and discipline have tamed her to a degree, as has her responsibility to her many younger siblings. Perhaps, one day, her life will take her out into the wondrous and fantastic seas beyond, so far beyond her imagination that she can’t stand it, but for now, her happiness lies with home.
CHARACTER GOALS:
I have a nice handful of reasons I’m really excited to write for Coriander. Firstly, while I personally identify as an atheist, I have no particular dislike of the spirit or belief in religion (even if there’s so many examples of its practice, especially historically, that are abhorrent). I know some of my best friends are Christian, and in the past I’ve at least aimed to use fiction as a way to explore my own thoughts and feelings on faith. However, currently I’ve never gone further than the planning stages of a character who aims to explore my more positive outlook, leaving my writing more on the negative, so through Coriander I in part aim to write the struggle of a person with faith in a world that preaches the same ideals without putting them into practice, ultimately believing in the God who’s blood runs in the veins of the Heavenly Dragons, but eventually having to struggle with those who cause so much suffering in the world, while still holding onto and reconciling her faith in spite of those who claim to represent and embody it.
The second point of interest is in how relatively unexplored religion is in One Piece despite being so important (in that men deified as Gods literally rule the world). My thought process is narrowed in on the Heavenly Dragons: while we as the audience know them to be horrible and shitty to their foundations, and many people hate them, their rule is still accepted by the world, including the Marines. Through Coriander, I want to try and ground what we know through the lens of a religion I think fits in the world of One Piece (not as some unified faith, but as one of many religions in the world of One Piece, just as our world is full of religious difference and conflict). I’ll probably be drawing a lot from Christianity, which the nun imagery evokes, but as One Piece is Japanese, and I suspect the Heavenly Dragons might in part be inspired by how State Shintoism deified the Japanese Emperor as the descendant of Amaterasu, I’ll probably be considering some aspects of Shintoism as well, blending east and west just like the manga One Piece itself.
Lastly, there’s the matter of her Devil Fruit, discussed below, that has some rather important implications. Coriander’s story will have a massive shifting point. In reality, I’m more or less starting her in what would be the backstory flashback that establishes why she is who she is. This is partly because I have a deep love of slice of life and healing/iyashikei anime/manga, (the mention of Coriander’s ‘ability to see the fun and wonder in just about every part of their mundane life’ is directly inspired from characters like Akari (Aria) and Yotsuba (Yotsuba&!)). Her adventures in Tune Town would be my crack at writing a story in that vein (but not without One Piece’s penchant for absurd comedy). In doing so, I hope that the eventual shifting point will be all the more poignant and tragic, the prior focus on life giving the concept of death all the more weight and meaning, and the impending threat of death coming through narrative expectation offering a certain weight on the first part of her story, conversely. Her journey beyond that only has a faint guideline. The arrival of another PC to her island could alter her trajectory drastically, or deeply embed the potential ideas I already have for her. It’s all very exciting for me to consider!
The second point of interest is in how relatively unexplored religion is in One Piece despite being so important (in that men deified as Gods literally rule the world). My thought process is narrowed in on the Heavenly Dragons: while we as the audience know them to be horrible and shitty to their foundations, and many people hate them, their rule is still accepted by the world, including the Marines. Through Coriander, I want to try and ground what we know through the lens of a religion I think fits in the world of One Piece (not as some unified faith, but as one of many religions in the world of One Piece, just as our world is full of religious difference and conflict). I’ll probably be drawing a lot from Christianity, which the nun imagery evokes, but as One Piece is Japanese, and I suspect the Heavenly Dragons might in part be inspired by how State Shintoism deified the Japanese Emperor as the descendant of Amaterasu, I’ll probably be considering some aspects of Shintoism as well, blending east and west just like the manga One Piece itself.
Lastly, there’s the matter of her Devil Fruit, discussed below, that has some rather important implications. Coriander’s story will have a massive shifting point. In reality, I’m more or less starting her in what would be the backstory flashback that establishes why she is who she is. This is partly because I have a deep love of slice of life and healing/iyashikei anime/manga, (the mention of Coriander’s ‘ability to see the fun and wonder in just about every part of their mundane life’ is directly inspired from characters like Akari (Aria) and Yotsuba (Yotsuba&!)). Her adventures in Tune Town would be my crack at writing a story in that vein (but not without One Piece’s penchant for absurd comedy). In doing so, I hope that the eventual shifting point will be all the more poignant and tragic, the prior focus on life giving the concept of death all the more weight and meaning, and the impending threat of death coming through narrative expectation offering a certain weight on the first part of her story, conversely. Her journey beyond that only has a faint guideline. The arrival of another PC to her island could alter her trajectory drastically, or deeply embed the potential ideas I already have for her. It’s all very exciting for me to consider!
CHARACTER NOTES:
Organization: Tune Town, Melody Island
Position: Sister of the Dragon Blood Faith
Starting Sea: East Blue
Devil Fruit/Special Abilities: Revive-Revive Fruit. While Coriander hasn’t even realized she’s eaten the Fruit, the simple narrative implications of her having an unactivated Revive Fruit are...grim, to say the least. That said, the added layer of religion to her character gives her a whole new window to the inherent existentialism of the soul’s form. While her death will be an important point of her story, much like Brook’s, the circumstances and fallout will be radially different. I already have one expansion on an ability of Brook’s in mind, but her fighting style in general, and how it ties to her Fruit’s powers (which might be tweaked to fit her personality, such as a pure light instead of Brook’s cold soul), are a whole realm I have to think on in the future.
Coriander has also been observed to have exceptional senses in some cases. She’s never failed to find her fellow children in hide and seek, and she also has an affinity for animals, claiming she hear their conversations sometimes. While the islanders often dismiss the latter as the fun and fanciful imagination of a child, various rare texts and wizened adventurers have described a similar phenomenon as ‘the ability to hear the Voices of All Things’...
Position: Sister of the Dragon Blood Faith
Starting Sea: East Blue
Devil Fruit/Special Abilities: Revive-Revive Fruit. While Coriander hasn’t even realized she’s eaten the Fruit, the simple narrative implications of her having an unactivated Revive Fruit are...grim, to say the least. That said, the added layer of religion to her character gives her a whole new window to the inherent existentialism of the soul’s form. While her death will be an important point of her story, much like Brook’s, the circumstances and fallout will be radially different. I already have one expansion on an ability of Brook’s in mind, but her fighting style in general, and how it ties to her Fruit’s powers (which might be tweaked to fit her personality, such as a pure light instead of Brook’s cold soul), are a whole realm I have to think on in the future.
Coriander has also been observed to have exceptional senses in some cases. She’s never failed to find her fellow children in hide and seek, and she also has an affinity for animals, claiming she hear their conversations sometimes. While the islanders often dismiss the latter as the fun and fanciful imagination of a child, various rare texts and wizened adventurers have described a similar phenomenon as ‘the ability to hear the Voices of All Things’...
SAMPLE POST:
“Heehee, how can bubbles make a boat sink? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Lying on her front, bare feet kicking at the air, a girl with short, messy, platinum blond hair rested on her bed, propped up on her elbows. Catherine Coriander was all smiles as she flipped through the book in front of her. “Journey to the Bottom of the World” was a non-fiction novel detailing the exploits of the adventurer Knox of the Lymph Kingdom, who’s 12 novel series detailing his expedition to what was now called the Devil’s Seas had shown countless people a taste of what the Grand Line was truly like (allegedly). Many she knew had dismissed them as absurdities, sold through fantasy over fact, but Coriander’s heart was swayed all the same. Even as she cast her doubts on rivers flowing up a mountain backwards, islands in the clouds, dolphins the size of Sea Kings, and rain of gumdrops, even the errant thought that there might be even the tiniest truth there sent her heart aflutter. And she hadn’t even gotten to the legendary Fishman Island yet!
Rolling over on her bed, she let her thoughts run wild. Tall mangrove trees striped like a zebra (whatever strange beast that was supposed to be?), the sap seeping into the ground only to form bubbles that constantly popped and echoed throughout the Sabaody Archipelago. Were the leaves like a tree’s? Or were they spherical, like bubbles? Of course, Cori was sharp enough to catch the writer in his tricks: the bubbles floated before, but now that they were sinking to the bottom of the ocean… Letting out a giggle to herself, she couldn’t even disparage it, the visions in her head so fantastic that a few creative liberties need not mar them. The kids wouldn’t notice as she spun the tale to them, most likely, except Sorrel. He was always looking to poke holes into things, and these poor bubbles would not survive that.
“Cori! Can you get down here!” Clear blue eyes shooting open, Coriander rolled off her bed, feet flopping onto a shaggy gray mat. The room was rather sparse: a dresser, a rickety desk, and a bookshelf were all she needed, for most of her time was spent outdoors. Moving intuitively, she slipped her feet into a pair of black loafers and snapped up a white coif and black veil from the desk, donning them on her head before heading down the wooden stairs. Blinking away the amber sunlight of the incoming dusk, she reached the kitchen where her mother worked, several ovens among more typical kitchen weaponry, the smell of bread baked into the house itself. Pink apron over her front, platinum blonde hair tied into a ponytail, Catherine Marjoram glared. “Were you lazing about in your habit again? It’s going to get wrinkled! Just wear normal clothes when you get home!”
Cori pouted. “We’re doing laundry tomorrow, aren’t we? A couple wrinkles aren’t going to hurt it. Besides, I’m a nun, so I wear my habit!”
Marjoram sighed. “Yeah, I know, that’s why you’re always cleaning food, dirt, and kid snot out of it. Mother Basil should...never mind. Can you fetch some more water?” Corianne glanced to the side, seeing two perfectly full buckets nearby. Marjoram picked up her daughter’s thoughts immediately. “Those are for dinner, we need more for bathing! Your father used the water we got earlier to clean the bath out, like his back’s going to get better like that…” Turning back to her cutting board and tray of veggies, she said, “You better hurry and get going while the sun’s up. We’re having veggie soup in bread bowls tonight.”
Cori let out a low gasp, licking her lips in anticipation. Going to the corner, she grabbed the carrying pole and a pair of buckets, balancing them on one shoulder for now. As she moved to the side door, he stopped, turning back. “Hey mom, what’s a zebra? Do they have spines?”
“Of course they do! All mammals have spines. Zebras are like horses, but they have stripes like a tiger.”
“Horses!? With a funny name like that? It sounds like it should have the mouth of a tiger too, and spikes on the back.” Coriander’s wide eyed incredulity and fanciful rambling was met with her mother waving for her to leave. As she went through the door, taking the path down the hill through the trees, a smile crept to her face. Somehow the reality of the zebra seemed even stranger than her fiction, and Cori thought there was something wonderful about that.
Buckets clattering about as she walked, or rather, nearly skipped down the hill, reaching the main road in short time, most of the other abodes either lined up here, down by the docks, or a short path away for privacy like the Catherine home. The town was clear, but not quiet, each house bustling with its own family enjoying the company of one another as they ate or waited on dinner in progress. The first soul she saw was a familiar old man with fuzz on his jaw, spectacles over his eyes, and a shiny bald head giving the dusklight a rebound. Cane clutched in his hand, he leaned forward, wrinkles in his black and blue plaid shirt shirt un-creasing. “Getting water this late, Cori? Don’t fall in,” town elder Cicely warned.
Cheek puffed into a pout, Cori muttered, “I haven’t fallen in since I was little! I’m 16, you don’t need to tell me. I’m practically an adult now!”
“Hmm, and here I was thinking you were getting water to fill your bathtub and play ‘mermaid’.” Cori’s pout deepened, prompting a chortle. “Enjoying the book?”
“Yeah!” Coriander burst out, mood making an about face. “Knox was talking about the mangroves at Sabaody looking like zebras, do you have any pictures lying around in the library? They looked weirder in my head, but I guess they’re just horses.”
“Hmm, pop by tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do,” Cicely said.
Waving her hand vigorously as she passed by reasonable speaking distance, Coriander started to reach the end of town, the road beyond weaving through the hills. The lack of rain recently meant the well just in sight wouldn’t be fit for drawing, so the stream was her only bet.
The path was easy, but the walking was hard. Typically her traverse in the sunset was aimed towards Tune Town, not the other way around, so she was regularly distracted by the sheen of the grass and shaded trees looking just a bit different than usual, but enough to feel fresh and new. Glancing back, she winced at the sun in her eyes, torn between wanting light for her trip back and not wanting the sun to keep poking her in the eyes. But going forward, her step was slow, as going to quickly would take this relaxing time and sweet view away from her sooner.
By the time she finally reached the stream, the dusklight was starting to fade, and she was torn between the pleasantries of her trip and slight anxiety at the return. Still, before even that, she had a task, setting the first of her two buckets into the water so it could fill. Once she’d taken care of both of them, she slipped the carrying pole back onto her shoulders, but something strange caught her ear before she could stand fully.
gotta wait, gotta wait
“Hmm?” Coriander looked up and around, not seeing anyone in the low light.
rain soon, food easier then
Slipping the carrying pole off, Coriander got closer to where she was hearing the noise from, face practically at the level of the stream. It wasn’t particularly deep, but one would be wading before you reached the other side. And yet, Cori didn’t hear anything from the other side, but from somewhere in between.
big! quick, hide
“Hide, from what?” Coriander wondered, seemingly to herself. Then, her foot slipped from the rocks at the edge of the stream.
”Dammit Sorrel, you got us lost,” whined Verbena, the chubby boy rubbing his curly black hair in frustration.
From ahead of him, the second tallest of the group, a girl with short green hair, shorts, and white tank top, and slightly tanned skin growled. “I’m telling your dad you swore!” Peppermint threatened.
Poking out from behind Verbena, a small girl with a pink bow, black dress, and black braid of hair glared from under her bangs, and beat up teddy bear in her grasp jabbed her finger at Peppermint. “If you do I’m gonna swear too so you have to tell on both of us!” said the younger Rue. Peppermint puffed up like a frog, tongue held.
Adjusting his glasses, squinting in the low light, Sorrel’s mid length purple hair fanned out as he turned his head trying to find where they were supposed to go. “If we don’t get home soon we’re all gonna get a whooping.”
“Except Peppermint ‘cause she has no parents,” Verbena muttered.
“I’m gonna chuck you into the ocean again so you better watch your mouth!” Peppermint shook her fists, the others flinching away. All but one, who’s eyes were locked elsewhere, the head of the group’s smallest being turned to the side. Short hair ruddy, trailing towards the back of the group of kids, nose and eyes running in fear at being lost, the feelings had taken a hiatus as his focus shifted.
Sorrel noticed. “You finally stop crying Cassia?”
Cassia didn’t even blink, his eyes wide as he stared off into the distance, the other four stopping to watch him. Before anyone could open their mouths to speak, he shot off, streaking through a couple trees and down the hill. “Ah! Cassia!?” Sorrel cried, leading the other four as they gave chase.
“Where are you going!?” Peppermint cried out, easily keeping pace.
“If you get us even more lost I’m gonna be even more mad!” Verbena threatened, Rue being pulled along behind her.
Down the hill, Up, down, then up another, Cassia stopped at the top, looking down into one of the short valleys, where water ran free. Catching their breath from the sprint uphill, once again they followed Cassia’s eyes, not so concerned with the known landmark that could have guided them home, but instead the mostly black mass visible against the rocks, a point of platinum blonde visible.
“CORIANDER!?”
”Come on, where is she, where is she?” “Oh God, oh God…” “Please, just tell us everything’s okay!” The doorway to the Catherine household was packed, a number of the villagers having stormed from their homes at the thunderous news.
“GO HOME ALREADY SHE’S FINE!” Marjoram roared.
In the other room, a blonde haired man with a short goatee, glasses, and brown overalls over a white a blue pinstriped shirt rubbed Coriander down with a towel. “Jeez, they’re acting like you died or something,” Catherine Hyssop muttered.
“Puh,” Coriander gasped, popping her head out of the towel her dad held. Taking it for herself and standing, the girl in her poofy white bedclothes admitted, “I would’ve if Peppermint hadn’t pulled me out of there.” Going out into the hall, the congregation let out a titter of relief. “Oh praise God!” “How do you almost drown in half a foot of water!?” “I’ll be right back with a good luck charm.” Coriander’s eyes were wide at the crowd. “Did the whole town show up!?”
“Your stupidity has always had a gravity to it, attracting other idiots,” Marjoram huffed. Turning back to the crowd she argued, “There better not be any lines like this in front of my house again unless you’ve got bread to buy!”
“Oh, I’ll take some day-old loaves if you have any left.”
“GET OUTTA HERE ALREADY! EXCEPT THE KIDS they can stay for a minute.” As the crowd begun to disperse, the kids coming back in, Marjoram muttered, “I swear, they take it way too easy on you...”
“What happened!?” Peppermint cried out, rushing to hug Cori. She was only the first, Sorrel and Rue jumping in as well, Verbena standing back with his arms crossed and Cassia stuck still at the door.
“Even Cassia never drownded and he can’t even swim yet,” Verbena huffed.
With only two hands and three heads to pat, Cori looked up from her hug reciprocation and muttered, “I don’t know what happened! It was like going to bed after a long day, I just didn’t have any energy anymore.” From behind her, Hyssop entered at that moment, cane in hand, eyes intense as he flashed a look to Marjoram. “I was more worried about how mom and dad were going to get water with dad’s back hurt from the mill.”
Following Hyssop’s look, Marjoram moved past Cori, swatting her on the shoulder. “I can get it myself! Looks like I’ll have to if you’re going to be take any more naps with the fish.”
“Ah, jeez! It was an accident!” Cori cried as her parents went off. Letting out a breath, she said, “Praise God for the bunch of you being right there.” Pushing past the other kids, she reached Cassia at the doorway, the boy trying not to meet eyes even as Coriander bent down to eye level. “More importantly...thank you, Cassia.”
Cassia’s face went tight, tears starting to leak yet again. He didn’t resist as Coriander pulled him into a hug. “Were you scared?”
After a moment, Cassia weakly nodded. “Buh-huh.”
“And you still came to help me. I can’t thank you enough.” Pressing her mouth into his scalp, she gave him a brief kiss. Cassia rubbed his face with his hands, as much to hide the growing red as it was to wipe away the tears. The other four coming through, they shuffled away, Cori not even noticing as she focused on waving farewell to the children going into the young night.
”Did you hear what she said?” Hyssop muttered, knuckles white on his cane as he sat on a stool in the kitchen.
Standing with a ladle in her hand, stirring a simmering soup, Marjoram’s look wasn’t much calmer. “Where would she have ever made a deal with a devil to get cursed?”
“It’s Fruit, right? Curséd Fruit,” Hyssop suggested.
Putting the ladle down and wiping her hands, Marjoram muttered, “Are you sure? The cursed aren’t loved by the ocean, but this was freshwater.”
Hyssop rocked his head back and forth in thought. “True…”
“Besides, it’s not like she’s breathing fire or...what are some of the powers again?”
“I heard one of the Admirals these days blows bubbles.”
“…”
“…”
“What’s the Government coming to!? Back in the day the Admirals were fearsome!” Marjoram slammed her palm on the counter before going to cut the bread bowls, jabbing her knife into round, crusty loaves of bread.
Hyssop let out a low sigh, before admitting, “Besides, it’s not like Cori has any strange...ah.”
“She’s always been strange. And ‘ah’? What’s ‘ah’?”
Hyssop scratched at his facial hair, recalling, “No, there wouldn’t be any Devil power to hear animals, right?”
Knife slowing to a stop, Marjoram shook her head, “Who would give up their ability to tread water on most of this planet to eavesdrop on the damn rats talking about how their days are going!?”
“Don’t yell at me, it was just a thought. Let’s ask Cicely tomorrow, or Burnet.”
“I wasn’t yelling at you, I was yelling at her. I swear she’s going to give us a heart attack one of these days. CORI, DINNER’S READY!”
It wasn’t more than a few seconds until Cori bust in. “Mr. Cicely came by after the kids left with a picture of a zebra. It doesn’t have a tiger mouth but it totally had spikes on its back!”
“That was its mane,” Hyssop insisted.
“It looked like spikes though!”
“Can we just eat already?” moaned an exasperated Marjoram. Divvying up the soup into their bread bowls, she knew that despite her load complaints, her futile attempts to reign that endless ball of hope and wonder in, she loved the hell out of that girl. Even without words, her and Hyssop knew they were of the name mind: they could never imagine any kind of curse like that befalling her, not as long as she was so loved by this town.
Lying on her front, bare feet kicking at the air, a girl with short, messy, platinum blond hair rested on her bed, propped up on her elbows. Catherine Coriander was all smiles as she flipped through the book in front of her. “Journey to the Bottom of the World” was a non-fiction novel detailing the exploits of the adventurer Knox of the Lymph Kingdom, who’s 12 novel series detailing his expedition to what was now called the Devil’s Seas had shown countless people a taste of what the Grand Line was truly like (allegedly). Many she knew had dismissed them as absurdities, sold through fantasy over fact, but Coriander’s heart was swayed all the same. Even as she cast her doubts on rivers flowing up a mountain backwards, islands in the clouds, dolphins the size of Sea Kings, and rain of gumdrops, even the errant thought that there might be even the tiniest truth there sent her heart aflutter. And she hadn’t even gotten to the legendary Fishman Island yet!
Rolling over on her bed, she let her thoughts run wild. Tall mangrove trees striped like a zebra (whatever strange beast that was supposed to be?), the sap seeping into the ground only to form bubbles that constantly popped and echoed throughout the Sabaody Archipelago. Were the leaves like a tree’s? Or were they spherical, like bubbles? Of course, Cori was sharp enough to catch the writer in his tricks: the bubbles floated before, but now that they were sinking to the bottom of the ocean… Letting out a giggle to herself, she couldn’t even disparage it, the visions in her head so fantastic that a few creative liberties need not mar them. The kids wouldn’t notice as she spun the tale to them, most likely, except Sorrel. He was always looking to poke holes into things, and these poor bubbles would not survive that.
“Cori! Can you get down here!” Clear blue eyes shooting open, Coriander rolled off her bed, feet flopping onto a shaggy gray mat. The room was rather sparse: a dresser, a rickety desk, and a bookshelf were all she needed, for most of her time was spent outdoors. Moving intuitively, she slipped her feet into a pair of black loafers and snapped up a white coif and black veil from the desk, donning them on her head before heading down the wooden stairs. Blinking away the amber sunlight of the incoming dusk, she reached the kitchen where her mother worked, several ovens among more typical kitchen weaponry, the smell of bread baked into the house itself. Pink apron over her front, platinum blonde hair tied into a ponytail, Catherine Marjoram glared. “Were you lazing about in your habit again? It’s going to get wrinkled! Just wear normal clothes when you get home!”
Cori pouted. “We’re doing laundry tomorrow, aren’t we? A couple wrinkles aren’t going to hurt it. Besides, I’m a nun, so I wear my habit!”
Marjoram sighed. “Yeah, I know, that’s why you’re always cleaning food, dirt, and kid snot out of it. Mother Basil should...never mind. Can you fetch some more water?” Corianne glanced to the side, seeing two perfectly full buckets nearby. Marjoram picked up her daughter’s thoughts immediately. “Those are for dinner, we need more for bathing! Your father used the water we got earlier to clean the bath out, like his back’s going to get better like that…” Turning back to her cutting board and tray of veggies, she said, “You better hurry and get going while the sun’s up. We’re having veggie soup in bread bowls tonight.”
Cori let out a low gasp, licking her lips in anticipation. Going to the corner, she grabbed the carrying pole and a pair of buckets, balancing them on one shoulder for now. As she moved to the side door, he stopped, turning back. “Hey mom, what’s a zebra? Do they have spines?”
“Of course they do! All mammals have spines. Zebras are like horses, but they have stripes like a tiger.”
“Horses!? With a funny name like that? It sounds like it should have the mouth of a tiger too, and spikes on the back.” Coriander’s wide eyed incredulity and fanciful rambling was met with her mother waving for her to leave. As she went through the door, taking the path down the hill through the trees, a smile crept to her face. Somehow the reality of the zebra seemed even stranger than her fiction, and Cori thought there was something wonderful about that.
Buckets clattering about as she walked, or rather, nearly skipped down the hill, reaching the main road in short time, most of the other abodes either lined up here, down by the docks, or a short path away for privacy like the Catherine home. The town was clear, but not quiet, each house bustling with its own family enjoying the company of one another as they ate or waited on dinner in progress. The first soul she saw was a familiar old man with fuzz on his jaw, spectacles over his eyes, and a shiny bald head giving the dusklight a rebound. Cane clutched in his hand, he leaned forward, wrinkles in his black and blue plaid shirt shirt un-creasing. “Getting water this late, Cori? Don’t fall in,” town elder Cicely warned.
Cheek puffed into a pout, Cori muttered, “I haven’t fallen in since I was little! I’m 16, you don’t need to tell me. I’m practically an adult now!”
“Hmm, and here I was thinking you were getting water to fill your bathtub and play ‘mermaid’.” Cori’s pout deepened, prompting a chortle. “Enjoying the book?”
“Yeah!” Coriander burst out, mood making an about face. “Knox was talking about the mangroves at Sabaody looking like zebras, do you have any pictures lying around in the library? They looked weirder in my head, but I guess they’re just horses.”
“Hmm, pop by tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do,” Cicely said.
Waving her hand vigorously as she passed by reasonable speaking distance, Coriander started to reach the end of town, the road beyond weaving through the hills. The lack of rain recently meant the well just in sight wouldn’t be fit for drawing, so the stream was her only bet.
The path was easy, but the walking was hard. Typically her traverse in the sunset was aimed towards Tune Town, not the other way around, so she was regularly distracted by the sheen of the grass and shaded trees looking just a bit different than usual, but enough to feel fresh and new. Glancing back, she winced at the sun in her eyes, torn between wanting light for her trip back and not wanting the sun to keep poking her in the eyes. But going forward, her step was slow, as going to quickly would take this relaxing time and sweet view away from her sooner.
By the time she finally reached the stream, the dusklight was starting to fade, and she was torn between the pleasantries of her trip and slight anxiety at the return. Still, before even that, she had a task, setting the first of her two buckets into the water so it could fill. Once she’d taken care of both of them, she slipped the carrying pole back onto her shoulders, but something strange caught her ear before she could stand fully.
gotta wait, gotta wait
“Hmm?” Coriander looked up and around, not seeing anyone in the low light.
rain soon, food easier then
Slipping the carrying pole off, Coriander got closer to where she was hearing the noise from, face practically at the level of the stream. It wasn’t particularly deep, but one would be wading before you reached the other side. And yet, Cori didn’t hear anything from the other side, but from somewhere in between.
big! quick, hide
“Hide, from what?” Coriander wondered, seemingly to herself. Then, her foot slipped from the rocks at the edge of the stream.
”Dammit Sorrel, you got us lost,” whined Verbena, the chubby boy rubbing his curly black hair in frustration.
From ahead of him, the second tallest of the group, a girl with short green hair, shorts, and white tank top, and slightly tanned skin growled. “I’m telling your dad you swore!” Peppermint threatened.
Poking out from behind Verbena, a small girl with a pink bow, black dress, and black braid of hair glared from under her bangs, and beat up teddy bear in her grasp jabbed her finger at Peppermint. “If you do I’m gonna swear too so you have to tell on both of us!” said the younger Rue. Peppermint puffed up like a frog, tongue held.
Adjusting his glasses, squinting in the low light, Sorrel’s mid length purple hair fanned out as he turned his head trying to find where they were supposed to go. “If we don’t get home soon we’re all gonna get a whooping.”
“Except Peppermint ‘cause she has no parents,” Verbena muttered.
“I’m gonna chuck you into the ocean again so you better watch your mouth!” Peppermint shook her fists, the others flinching away. All but one, who’s eyes were locked elsewhere, the head of the group’s smallest being turned to the side. Short hair ruddy, trailing towards the back of the group of kids, nose and eyes running in fear at being lost, the feelings had taken a hiatus as his focus shifted.
Sorrel noticed. “You finally stop crying Cassia?”
Cassia didn’t even blink, his eyes wide as he stared off into the distance, the other four stopping to watch him. Before anyone could open their mouths to speak, he shot off, streaking through a couple trees and down the hill. “Ah! Cassia!?” Sorrel cried, leading the other four as they gave chase.
“Where are you going!?” Peppermint cried out, easily keeping pace.
“If you get us even more lost I’m gonna be even more mad!” Verbena threatened, Rue being pulled along behind her.
Down the hill, Up, down, then up another, Cassia stopped at the top, looking down into one of the short valleys, where water ran free. Catching their breath from the sprint uphill, once again they followed Cassia’s eyes, not so concerned with the known landmark that could have guided them home, but instead the mostly black mass visible against the rocks, a point of platinum blonde visible.
“CORIANDER!?”
”Come on, where is she, where is she?” “Oh God, oh God…” “Please, just tell us everything’s okay!” The doorway to the Catherine household was packed, a number of the villagers having stormed from their homes at the thunderous news.
“GO HOME ALREADY SHE’S FINE!” Marjoram roared.
In the other room, a blonde haired man with a short goatee, glasses, and brown overalls over a white a blue pinstriped shirt rubbed Coriander down with a towel. “Jeez, they’re acting like you died or something,” Catherine Hyssop muttered.
“Puh,” Coriander gasped, popping her head out of the towel her dad held. Taking it for herself and standing, the girl in her poofy white bedclothes admitted, “I would’ve if Peppermint hadn’t pulled me out of there.” Going out into the hall, the congregation let out a titter of relief. “Oh praise God!” “How do you almost drown in half a foot of water!?” “I’ll be right back with a good luck charm.” Coriander’s eyes were wide at the crowd. “Did the whole town show up!?”
“Your stupidity has always had a gravity to it, attracting other idiots,” Marjoram huffed. Turning back to the crowd she argued, “There better not be any lines like this in front of my house again unless you’ve got bread to buy!”
“Oh, I’ll take some day-old loaves if you have any left.”
“GET OUTTA HERE ALREADY! EXCEPT THE KIDS they can stay for a minute.” As the crowd begun to disperse, the kids coming back in, Marjoram muttered, “I swear, they take it way too easy on you...”
“What happened!?” Peppermint cried out, rushing to hug Cori. She was only the first, Sorrel and Rue jumping in as well, Verbena standing back with his arms crossed and Cassia stuck still at the door.
“Even Cassia never drownded and he can’t even swim yet,” Verbena huffed.
With only two hands and three heads to pat, Cori looked up from her hug reciprocation and muttered, “I don’t know what happened! It was like going to bed after a long day, I just didn’t have any energy anymore.” From behind her, Hyssop entered at that moment, cane in hand, eyes intense as he flashed a look to Marjoram. “I was more worried about how mom and dad were going to get water with dad’s back hurt from the mill.”
Following Hyssop’s look, Marjoram moved past Cori, swatting her on the shoulder. “I can get it myself! Looks like I’ll have to if you’re going to be take any more naps with the fish.”
“Ah, jeez! It was an accident!” Cori cried as her parents went off. Letting out a breath, she said, “Praise God for the bunch of you being right there.” Pushing past the other kids, she reached Cassia at the doorway, the boy trying not to meet eyes even as Coriander bent down to eye level. “More importantly...thank you, Cassia.”
Cassia’s face went tight, tears starting to leak yet again. He didn’t resist as Coriander pulled him into a hug. “Were you scared?”
After a moment, Cassia weakly nodded. “Buh-huh.”
“And you still came to help me. I can’t thank you enough.” Pressing her mouth into his scalp, she gave him a brief kiss. Cassia rubbed his face with his hands, as much to hide the growing red as it was to wipe away the tears. The other four coming through, they shuffled away, Cori not even noticing as she focused on waving farewell to the children going into the young night.
”Did you hear what she said?” Hyssop muttered, knuckles white on his cane as he sat on a stool in the kitchen.
Standing with a ladle in her hand, stirring a simmering soup, Marjoram’s look wasn’t much calmer. “Where would she have ever made a deal with a devil to get cursed?”
“It’s Fruit, right? Curséd Fruit,” Hyssop suggested.
Putting the ladle down and wiping her hands, Marjoram muttered, “Are you sure? The cursed aren’t loved by the ocean, but this was freshwater.”
Hyssop rocked his head back and forth in thought. “True…”
“Besides, it’s not like she’s breathing fire or...what are some of the powers again?”
“I heard one of the Admirals these days blows bubbles.”
“…”
“…”
“What’s the Government coming to!? Back in the day the Admirals were fearsome!” Marjoram slammed her palm on the counter before going to cut the bread bowls, jabbing her knife into round, crusty loaves of bread.
Hyssop let out a low sigh, before admitting, “Besides, it’s not like Cori has any strange...ah.”
“She’s always been strange. And ‘ah’? What’s ‘ah’?”
Hyssop scratched at his facial hair, recalling, “No, there wouldn’t be any Devil power to hear animals, right?”
Knife slowing to a stop, Marjoram shook her head, “Who would give up their ability to tread water on most of this planet to eavesdrop on the damn rats talking about how their days are going!?”
“Don’t yell at me, it was just a thought. Let’s ask Cicely tomorrow, or Burnet.”
“I wasn’t yelling at you, I was yelling at her. I swear she’s going to give us a heart attack one of these days. CORI, DINNER’S READY!”
It wasn’t more than a few seconds until Cori bust in. “Mr. Cicely came by after the kids left with a picture of a zebra. It doesn’t have a tiger mouth but it totally had spikes on its back!”
“That was its mane,” Hyssop insisted.
“It looked like spikes though!”
“Can we just eat already?” moaned an exasperated Marjoram. Divvying up the soup into their bread bowls, she knew that despite her load complaints, her futile attempts to reign that endless ball of hope and wonder in, she loved the hell out of that girl. Even without words, her and Hyssop knew they were of the name mind: they could never imagine any kind of curse like that befalling her, not as long as she was so loved by this town.
POST ARCHIVE:
A Cloudy Day of Melody: The Capital of Ghosts
A Windy Day of Melody: The Hermit and the Ogre Girl
A Stormy Day of Melody: Thunderstruck Kirin
A Windy Day of Melody: The Hermit and the Ogre Girl
A Stormy Day of Melody: Thunderstruck Kirin