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Shang Qinghua wasn't a strong, rugged man who could take the cold- he was just a little guy!! Well, he wished he could say that, but no one would exactly hear him at the moment.
He blamed his past self for that. He might've procrastinated getting a research-based internship for his thesis, just the littlest bit, but it was common sense!! It's senior year and you ask your professors to partner up and yap about your hyperfixation during that year!!
He could've been making potions and drugs in a lab (with very normal temperatures), perhaps even looked cool as hell in his lab coat as he set up the glassware in a reflux setup- but NO! He had to travel across the country and do his research over there!! (Granted, maybe he technically didn't have to, but the other option was to take another year, and he absolutely couldn't afford another year of tuition and housing, even with Proud Immortal Demon Way's sudden success.)
The silver lining was that his project was really simple: data collection. It was so easy he doubted it could ever be published, but it was too late to back out now.
He was set out to travel from one port to another over the span of a month. He had a few dozen locations to stop at, where he was instructed to collect the information required every hour over eighteen hours.
Well- the instructions said every hour during daylight, but a quick web search led him to discover the true nature of his working hours. But yet again, it was too late to back out now.
The sleep deprivation wasn't new, but it was bothersome. He wasn't allowed to nap mid-day (it would mess up his sleep cycle completely), and if he couldn't fall asleep during nighttime, he was just fucked in general.
It was another night that he couldn't sleep. He shuffled in his bed, but not far; he needed the spot on his sheets that was warmed by his body temperature. He shivered, his temperature recordings mocking him in his mind. He didn't care how cold it was to two decimal places- it was too cold. That should be a simple enough fucking recording.
Exhaustion sank underneath his eyes, they felt painful to keep open, but maybe it was just the cold relentlessly burning into him. He rubbed his eyes with a pathetic, broken groan. His voice was too rusty, he didn't have much of a reason to speak lately. It made him feel even more isolated to talk to himself, but maybe it was a good idea to keep his bodily functions operational.
He tested his voice quietly before taking a swig of water out of a nearby canteen. He sighed and checked his watch. It passively glowed the time, he had three more hours to sleep. Maybe the water would relax him.
Or he could.
Talk to the fish?
Wow, unpaid internships really did give you new life experiences. A million in a lifetime opportunity to talk without a single soul caring!
He barely tugged himself out of bed and pulled on his shoes. He slept in most of his outfit nowadays, he couldn't stand the cold. If lecture halls sometimes got to him, he didn't know how he was supposed to survive the icy waters. He took a step out of the small, small cabin and closed the door behind him. Of course it was colder by the water, but shivering was a constant in his life.
He sat on a nearby ledge and willed himself to stop shaking, to which he had limited success. His mind emptily ran through a haze before remembering some of his original idea- talking. Yeah, he wanted to practice that again.
He opened his mouth to say a standard greeting, but it came out croaky. He gave a few more attempts before he got to a roughly sanded voice, "Alright then."
He didn't plan exactly what to say, but it's not like anyone was there to judge him. He still kept his voice generally lowered, out of respect for nature and perhaps instinct from it being night, "What's up? It's ya boi. I'm uh- yeah, here."
He rubbed his eyes again, what should he even do out there? Talk about chemistry? (Nah, he felt burned out lately.) Complain about his roommate? (No, Cucumber didn't deserve that much space in his mind.) Get free therapy? (He-)
Actually, that last one didn't sound so bad.
"Hey, fish, are you ready for sixty minutes of Qinghua? I hope my lack of insurance covers you." He dropped his tired finger guns for an exasperated huff, "Man, y'all don't even know about insurance. I wish I was a fish. Maybe I'll be a fish when I grow up. Is that rude to say?"
He rolled his eyes, he could hear how illogical his thoughts were. He feigned enthusiasm, "Wow- is my self-worth low enough that the fish must auto-hate me? Gg chat."
He gave an awkward chuckle, it wasn't a new thought to him. His homelife wasn't stable, it was no wonder he had issues with attachment and daily interactions. He didn't remember much of his childhood, but he was told that he cried a lot; perhaps some kind of childhood depression.
Well jokes on them- he's leveled up to adult depression! Now he has shit to do and a lack of serotonin! He brushed off his darker thoughts, it was too late for (another) crisis. He weakly attempted to have the intonation of a standup comedian, "So, life, am I right?"
Damn. Even his imaginary stand-up comedy routine was going shit. His next exhale followed with his shoulders dropping. He held back the spontaneous tears, "I just don't like being out here. I mean- don't get me wrong, ocean stuff is cool. I liked Finding Nemo I guess?" He felt like a tiny, pathetic child, so he wiped a tear, "I don't know- it's not my thing. I'm here because I'm too fucking stupid to plan things out earlier. I sort of had the idea that I needed to, but I-"
He held himself tightly; he was suddenly reminded that it had been a long time since he was last touched, even as a stranger brushing his arm accidentally. He clutched onto himself harder. He hated that his voice came out shakier, but he blamed it on the lack of speaking as of late, "I don't want to focus on that. I don't want to be sad because there's-" He breathed in and out too quickly, his voice rose, "No one! There's nobody! I- this must be like the damn highschool all over again with how much nothing there is out here!"
He couldn't help the images that flashed in his mind of having nothing to eat in the house, tossing a bag of popcorn in the microwave and somehow failing at that and having to split the bag of burnt waste between his dinner and breakfast. His stomach hungrily turned at the idea, he hadn't been given many rations during his trip.
Before he could scream anything else, the edges of anxiety stabbed through his clothes as he felt himself become desperate for another breath. Fuckfuckfuck- he got over these- he wasn't supposed to have these again, he got better.
Grounding- that was one of the coping mechanisms he knew- he needed some things to see. His whole body shook as he scrambled for his flashlight. He never liked the dark; the lights on his boat never did much. When he found the flashlight, he quickly turned it on.
"Shit, um-" His mind ran far too much for him to focus, maybe he was a lost cause already- his eyes darted, but not much else was illuminated by him. He choked on another breath before recalling, "Guard rail. T- there's that. Uh- water. Weird glowy light? Stars, deck." While the five things didn't inherently calm him down, it was better than before, even if by a fraction of the amount. He painfully lengthened his breath, willing his dizziness to pause for a moment.
It took him a while to realize that he was full-on crying. He wiped at trails, but they had already turned to ice by the time he got to them.
He didn't allow himself to cry further, he wasn't out there to make himself feel worse. He sadly spoke, "Sorry I'm… not good tonight." His breathing was still shaky, "I promise I'm more fun," or he hoped he was. He sat with his knees to his chest, "I'll be better next time. Teach you fishies about human things. Talk about fun things. Just talk about… things that aren't… this."
He hollowly laughed, "Apologizing to fish… Maybe there is something wrong with me." He inhaled the sharp, cold air through his nose. "But I'm a good enough therapist to point it out to myself, so I guess I'm fine."
He fidgeted with the flashlight's handle, but didn't bother to turn it off. Maybe it was wasting power, but he needed it for his critically low sanity. "I just wish-" He willed himself not to cry, a nat 20, he only felt drained, "I had someone. To talk to. I don't even care if they control the conversation or if I have to be awkwardly nice at a supermarket." He was quieter, "I just miss people. They're… not nice, but they were nice to listen to."
But even a podcast wouldn't feel emotionally satisfying to him. He craved the closeness of the mundane world, even if simply for the ability to-
The water moved, or perhaps 'wooshed.' It was an odd, quick sound with some force behind it. He shined his light towards the dark water, but nothing in particular caught his attention.
Great. He was hallucinating now.
Sleep could fix him (as well a fuckton of other things), he moved back to the cabin, opening the door as well as he could. "Goodnight, Fish. I'll see you…" He tiredly squinted at his watch and shrugged, "Too soon."
Maybe it was petty as fuck. Or maybe he'd be given every single award on Reddit for it- he blankly stared at the box of rations. He didn't need to open it yet, but he felt like licking a random fish instead of eating whatever flavor his current supply was. If anything, he was glad he found out sooner that the head researchers must've regarded him so lowly, they were peanut butter flavored.
Which granted, it wasn't a problem for many people, but it was absolutely a problem for Qinghua. He could manage gross flavors, but he couldn't exactly handle anaphylactic shock.
His throat felt tight from the idea before he quickly boxed up the food and put it high on the shelf. Out of sight, out of mind, but his need for food wasn't out of mind. His stomach painfully twisted before he counted his (non-peanut) reserves. He already felt dread at the idea, but yeah- he only had seven protein bars left.
He doublechecked his calendar, ah- ahaha, HA! Fuck him, it was exactly sixteen days until he was gone. His numb fingers searched for the radio and clicked it on, "Pan pan, Pan pan, Pan pan. This is Shang Qinghua from station Sierra Victor Eight Two Four. We have inadequate resources for survival and require non-immediate emergency assistance. Please respond."
He waited a few minutes on the line before repeating his spiel. It wasn't long until he cut the static. There was always later that day, he was certain they'd respond then.
Though, he postponed his lunch until that call. He turned on the radio several hours later to repeat himself.
No response again.
After another full day of spread out communications, he became more desperate. He decided to turn on the radio, repeat his monologue, and eat his meal while he waited. He didn't even feel close to full- he accidentally starved himself while waiting for a response, but he supposed it was ideal for his surroundings.
He didn't know much about his food, but he was told to have three a day, every single day. He redid the math again of how many days he had: he was allowed less than one every two days.
Well fuck his stupid baka life, he was going to rage against the dying light. He turned on the radio every hour. He would've kept it on all the time, but he didn't have much confidence in his crew to have sent him with fully charged batteries or spares.
A quick search revealed some spares on board, but they seemed too corroded. Probably used before he even got to them. He absentmindedly clutched at his stomach. None of his recording devices used batteries either, they were all manual or solar-powered. While he could likely hotwire the radio to the tiny solar panels, he didn't want to destroy his only semblance of a routine for the hypotheticals.
He often sat outside during this time. Talking to the fish distracted him from his hunger. When he saw a shadow waiting in the deep below, he decided he wouldn't waste the extra food. He grabbed one of the peanut butter rations and threw it into the water.
Something something, the food was natural, safe to feed fish in a pinch, and he surely didn't mind helping some little guy get by.
He didn't quite know if the peanut butter was ever eaten, but it slowly sank to the bottom and didn't return to his sight again.
It was good enough for him to try the radio again.
He got a response the next day. It was his 5th time tuning in, dully repeating the protocol. A crackly voice interrupted him, "This is Station Mike Tango Nine Two Five. If this is not an emergency, please refrain from overusing the channel. Over."
His heart jumped- the passive aggressiveness held no weight to him, he urgently responded. "Copy that. This station needs supplies- food, it has turned into an emergency. Over."
It took a few moments for the voice to come back. "Copy that. Your request has been received. Over."
He could barely think past his hunger-induced headache. "So am I- Copy that. So am I getting food or not? Over." It was a minute before he spoke again, "I need confirmation, do you copy? Over."
"Copy that. Yes, your request has been received. According to our system, you received adequate supplies before departure."
Oh, how he was going to fucking kill whoever was on the line with him- "Well- Copy that. I can't eat half of it, I have a food allergy. Over."
"Copy that," he heard what could've been a sigh, "Ration best you can. We don't have the ability to send supplies at this time. Over."
While he had worried about it, he could never have expected such outright dismissal. Numbly, "Rodger that," his voice was weaker, "Signing off."
He waited a minute before turning off his radio. He sat there for a long time after.
The days felt torturous from there. His stomach constantly clawed at him, but he knew he wouldn't die from it. He was sedentary and able to split the bars to at least eat daily. It must've been objectively better that he wouldn't die out there.
He kept an arm tucked around his abdomen, providing a tight pressure that almost made his insides not cave in. When he sat on the deck, he mimicked a curled-up position and pushed whatever thoughts out of his brain.
It actually helped to speak to the fish. Granted, they were fish, they didn't respond, but he liked rambling to the cold waters. He mentioned the food scenario, then he described his research, which led to talking about his classes and college, before he told miscellaneous childhood stories and explanations on Human Things™.
It was approaching nightfall, but the starvation made it much harder to sleep. He often caught himself passing out for minutes at a time during the day, but he at least tried to stay timely with his measurements.
"Y'know what I should do?" He moved to get the silver probe out of its case, a slight pained sound escaping his lips from shifting his stomach. "Not give a shit. It's clear they don't give one about me. Which- maybe I'm a stupid intern, but I'm still a person, y'know?"
He ignored the tight curling of his insides to dip the probe into the water. A minute seemed so agonizing to wait. "I can already hear Cucumber-Bro about this. That it's crazy for me to still do my research." He fondly recalled all the times he would yap and complain about his lab partner to his roommate, especially when Shang Qinghua was stuck with shitty results for his reports.
He trailed back to his original thoughts, "But hear me out. Either I suffer and get data, or I suffer. Seems clear enough to me." On one hand, he shouldn't publish the results under a company that's clearly so inhumane, but he needed any academic recognition he could get. He didn't dare to think about the possibility of submitting incomplete research then being forced to repeat his thesis credit.
"I could fake the data. But then I'm just subtracting from other researchers, y'know? No one gets paid enough in this equation. Negative money glitch." The probe beeped at him, and he took it out. The temperature, pH, etc. etc.- he could feel a migraine coming on. He shifted back over to his original position and wrote all of the data in his notebook.
The pages were harder to see in the dim light, but it was a good sign he was done for the day. He groaned from the general aches in his body, his eyes flipped up to the stars. They still littered the sky, and a lot more than in his city, but he couldn't help reminiscing about what he never had, "I wish there were northern lights. They're pretty, just a bunch of colors." He hummed, "I wish I knew more about them. I could tell you some stuff. Well- I know general things about the environment, I took environmental chem last year."
It was a few minutes of general brain fog before he sighed. The sun was completely gone now. His cabin was illuminated and distantly reflected into the dark, liquid abyss. "It's time for bed. Goodnight, fish. Maybe you'll hear about some environmental stuff tomorrow. There's stuff about temperature and gas absorption into water- Wait," He groaned, "Bed. Yep, bye."
He tiredly waved to the water, but stilled quickly. His eyes focused like a lens on a camera. A small section of water held a yellow glow (contrary to the white hues of his boat's lights). The shine shaped itself as an elongated circle, with the dark abyss of the water seeming much darker around it. The brightness shimmered carefully, almost as if waiting for him.
Okay, Main Character of a Horror Audiodrama- he was just hungry, tired, and he wanted to see something out there.
He moved his hand around for the nearby food, only to hear the crinkles of empty wrappers instead. "Nothing more tonight. You can go home, but you can't stay- well, you actually can stay here. It's your place after all."
Shang Qinghua stood up and looked back at the water. Okay the glowing- the glowing was brighter now. It was closer to a blue than a yellow, he wasn't sure how he got that bad of a glimpse before. The swirling color was hypnotizing, the cyans meshed into some whites, like a perpetual watercolor painting.
Perhaps stupidly, he moved to the edge of the boat, just where the railing minimally stopped him. Maybe he was a moth to a flame for science, but the luminescence was just interesting. He considered that line of research, though more of the chemical side of that biology.
Some lab reactions were quite pretty, but the oscillation of colors was beautiful and right in front of him. It was almost like the water was a glass showcase rather than a liquid, and deep within that translucent box was a small gemstone that would sparkle beautifully in the light, relentlessly changing between a graceful opal and a calm aquamarine.
He blinked a few times, but it only seemed to be a sharpened quality. The light was reaching out for him, as if he was the only specimen meant to view such a gorgeous scene.
…He needed sleep, he needed food, and one of those was obtainable. He gently spoke (though it was silly in hindsight to talk to a hallucination), "Sorry. I've got a long day ahead of me." He laughed bitterly, "You know the details. Sleep lets me forget I'm starving half to death." He planned for another chuckle, but his stomach twisted before he managed one.
The light turned red and Shang Qinghua stepped back. Anxiety shifting his mind and sight? It wasn't new to him, especially with the surrounding isolation. He's read stories about going mad at sea, but those were all nonsense- right? Fog crept at the edges of the boat as his heart raced faster than it should've.
He took a deep, uneven breath and watched the radiance travel closer. It felt analogous to an object almost falling and barely staying stable as it teetered above the floor. His body stiffened while he fought between going back into the cabin and- and- nothing else?
He desperately reminded himself that there was nothing else to do out by the water, he had a clear objective and he should follow it! Right, sleep! So one foot after the other. He just needed to move in general first.
He stared. He watched. He held his breath when it came ever so fucking close to his boat.
He studied the animals here. Granted, not in much detail, but there was an encyclopedia on the ship- which he only now considered that it could've been incomplete.
It was like a car crash in slow motion to watch it come closer, but just as he turned to go back into the cabin, the beast charged up and hit his boat, tilting the entire thing. Qinghua tripped on the floor and landed with a thud, but as he grabbed onto the closest thing, he realized he wasn't overboard, he could still save this.
The floor was slippery but he managed to get to the steering wheel. He read the instruction manual a million times by now, but a part of his mind still blanked on turning on the navigation.
Whatever. Fuck it. He turned on the boat's engine and cranked the lever to increase the acceleration. The boat sped through the darkened waters, but not without being attacked once more, to which Qinghua desperately swerved the steering wheel as a last resort. The chase continued for a few minutes before he realized that the light was no where to be seen.
Then the boat naturally came to a halt. Wait. He felt the lever, it was still slotted for the max acceleration. His brow furrowed but he was in no place to navigate in the dark. He simply called it a night best he could (tossing and turning in bed before turning open a personal notebook and writing down everything he saw- just a coping mechanism to get the beautiful image out of his head so he could actually pass out until the morning.)
In the morning, nothing changed. Even during the afternoon, he remained stationary.
Although he bothered to turn on the radio and request assistance, he was far from optimistic. If anything, the whole situation only weighed him down, making him realize his mental and physical exhaustion from it all.
And of course- being ignored by those on comms was probably his breaking point.
The sun had set about half an hour ago, and he truly felt alone on those expansive waters. He threw open the cabin door to stand on the deck. His voice was more charged than he anticipated, "What do you want from me?!"
Nothing responded. The humming of his engine was absent, leaving him in true silence. "I've been collecting your stupid fucking data for three weeks now. I think I should be allowed to tab out and leave already!"
His body shook, he grabbed the rails to support himself. "And it's cold out here! If it wasn't enough that I'm starving to death, I'm fucking cold all the damn time. And there's nothing I can use to get warmer because maybe I'm the problem!"
Qinghua didn't just start to tear up, and uglier sob erupted out of him. He was a rollercoaster, but maybe he was the problem. He could've selected a research project even sooner, he could've said 'fuck it' from the get-go and bought the cheapest plane ticket back to his dorm, he could've driven his ship to some nearby village to help him get supplies (even if he didn't have anything to offer).
At least his tears were warm, that was a partial relief. He didn't bother to wipe them off as they came tumbling down. He shakily let himself fall onto his knees, the ground only hurting more. He breathed in deeply, attempting to get himself slightly coherent, "I just want to be warm. And I want food." He wetly laughed, "Am I truly so fucking demanding for requesting those things?"
He tiredly allowed himself to fall back onto the deck, his back against the slightly wet wood. None of the additional coldness registered to him, he was just fucking tired. He stared at the sky, but none of the stars in particular. His expression was dead and unfocused, it took a few minutes for him to confess, "Just let me die. Let it be quick." When he closed his eyes for a brief moment, his eyelids felt heavier. "Who knows- it might already be inevitable."
He laid there for a few moments, perhaps falling into an instantaneous sleep, before he was interrupted by his boat violently moving. He scrambled up, but the disorientation threw him to the ground again. Shit, he breathed through his teeth as he caught a glimpse of blinding, bright light illuminating grey skin- Qinghua could only be grateful that his memory was diligent enough, a fucking phantom shark.
As the fish veered towards his boat again, he could quickly recall:
- It was quick, useless to outpace, even if his boat worked properly
- He was told by upper management that it "shouldn't be an issue"
Well upper management could suck his-!
Another attack sent Qinghua over the railing of his boat before he weakly grabbed at the steel bars to stop himself from fully toppling over, but still dangling over the water.
Despite his agony, he tightly clung to the wet metal, suddenly aware of how weak his strength was. Even if he wasn't one to work out, the starvation hadn't done him any favors as his arms easily shook.
He didn't even have the physical flexibility to hook his leg over the deck, but it surely didn't stop him from trying to swing back up. In a quick moment, he could visualize how easy his death was, and as he looked back, the blinding white was going to reach out of the water and snatch his hanging body- before he recognized a familiar red glow appear at his side to viciously charge the phantom shark going after him.
The attack must've been perfectly timed as the white mouth missed most of his body to instead be tackled down to the water. Within the sharpness of adrenaline, he saw a red, shining cone pop out of the water, accompanied by a hulky, monstrous beast.
The battle between the fish didn't catch Qinghua's attention for long as he noticed his grip slipping from the rail. Within a few heaving breaths, he desperately attempted to flip himself on top of the ship, but he was only getting weaker and weaker with each attempt that came, his skin screaming from the burn of friction. His vision easily became rippled with black dots- god damn his poor health! One final attempt to maneuver himself up left him falling back against the rail, his limbs practically going slack as his ears rang.
But surprisingly, he didn't fall for long. It was like falling from the top of a bunkbed, where the sensation of the impact lasted longer than the actual fall itself. A singular movement to try to get up led to him falling off of the slippery creature he landed on, and into the water- he prepared to hold his breath, but the submersion of liquid never came. A thin layer of glass sheltered him, as if he was trapped in an air bubble.
He bobbed under the water for a moment before he spotted the familiar creature right in front of him- a white, monstrous narwhal with a gentle blue glow. While he had never gotten close-up to the features before, the luminescence was as captivating as ever. But that glow only highlighted the blood across the creature's teeth, as it slightly dazzled from how fresh it was.
As soon as his eyes trailed to the narwhal's mouth, a long tongue escaped to wipe the teeth, leaving them clean and ready for another kill.
And fuck- Qinghua must've been that dinner snack! He shakily, quickly, pushed himself against the back of the bubble, both testing its firmness and granting distance between himself and the fucking terrifying monster. Desperate rambling escaped him, even if the fish likely didn't understand him, "Um, I- I'm sorry. On behalf of humans, especially the asshole humans. I've personally never littered and-"
"Silence." A booming voice came out of nowhere, but he was somehow certain that it belonged to the creature in front of him.
And Qinghua might've been a dense idiot, but the instruction was simple enough!! He gave an anxious nod before standing there, mostly waiting to be killed.
The monstrous narwhal perhaps decided to slowly torture him before death, which Qinghua perhaps felt a little petty about: You shouldn't play with your food, no matter how small it may be! The fish swam down into the water, much deeper than the human had ever been, and somehow the bubble closely followed. There didn't seem to be a chain, but they must've been connected. The glare of white and blue was similar to the creature's own colors, and Qinghua always stayed the same distance from the specimen.
Out of a layer of curiosity, Qinghua touched the side of the bubble with his bare skin. It was cold, which was surprising considering how his body parts were borderline numb as of late. He pulled back from the bubble, and perhaps out of a moment of stupidity, he pulled out a pocket notebook with his waterproof pen.
At least if he died, he could become a horror story for whatever unpaid undergraduate student came after him.
He didn't have much in the journal yet, just quick calculations that weren't supposed to go into his formal lab notebook.
My name is Shang Qinghua. If you're reading this, I'm already dead- Cliché, I know, but I've never seen this creature and I need some fucking documentation before I perish.
His writing was a little shaky; he tried to be neater with his information.
It's white and has some blues. It's hard to see in the dark, but he provides a light as well.
He realized that he already started to personify the creature, but scratching it out would take more time out of his soon expired life. The horrors persist, and so shall he-
I'm not sure of the gender, but it's easier to call it a guy. He's cold, I've been put into a bubble that's cold. Perhaps he mostly comes out at night to avoid the sun's heat?
Look man, he was completely bullshitting, he just needed something as a record he was alive. But unfortunately, he came to the realization that he didn't have much more to write.
Given, he was an anxious, rambling man by design, but he found a significant part of the adrenaline fading off of him, and he only wearily stood there as a result. Energy conservation might've been realistic, even if he was in no way able to swim up to the surface again (nor did he have a working boat to escape with).
He gently sat down within the bubble, gently rocking it along the way. He clumsily didn't realize his weight would have so much effect as the creature peered back at him, several circular, blue eyes piercing right through him. The human squeaked as he tried to back away, even if it really wasn't successful at all.
The blue horn pulsed with a ray of gray. "Calm." The voice only rumbled Qinghua's entire body, he theorized something about the soundwaves traveling differently- he opened his mouth to speak, only to close it.
"Shang Qinghua may speak." Well if an eldritch horror wasn't terrifying, it knowing your name must've been a whole other fucking level!
His heart jumped, perhaps it was able to read his mind?! Well shit, that'd ruin any scheming. "H- how do you know my name?"
The fish didn't bother to look at him, it swam straight ahead. "Shang Qinghua has spoken to this one before."
"I have??" He mentally punched himself, "This human apologizes for any rudeness- you, ah- we've spoken before? My memory escapes me-"
Soon, an echo of his own voice came by, as if it was bouncing off of some of the ocean's rocks, <-Pan pan. This is Shang Qinghua from station Sierra Victor Eight Two Four.> There were some variations that echoed at the same time, truly emphasizing how many times he tried to call for help.
He suddenly felt a bit stupid for not realizing how the creature might've heard his calls, but with minimal benefit of the doubt, the last entire week had been a haze to the tired researcher.
Qinghua grimaced, "This human apologizes for bothering you."
"Ngh."
Vague… disagreement? Either way, Qinghua ran with the pity as far as he could, "This human understands you want to eat him, but I truly don't have much nutritional value- I could help you hunt!" No he fucking couldn't, but some pleas were better than none, "Please accept me, I'm very useful!"
A deep rumble came, similar to an inquisitive hum, "What use are you?"
Gah- did the terrifying demon-like fish want an explanation on the usefulness of humanity or just a puny soul like himself? "I can serve you as an activist back on land, conduct research with good results-" Wait, would a narwhal even know what the fuck climate change was- wait nope, yeah it definitely did after Qinghua ranted about it one time. Either way, he changed topics, "Or I can cook for you! You must be interested to try new foods, I can give you snacks."
In actuality, Shang Qinghua was… not that skilled at cooking. Cucumber-bro shamed him time and time again; adding American cheese to rice, making ramen with coke- anything questionable was likely something he genuinely did.
The creature… purred?
It was a good sign of success! (Chat, is this rizz?) "But! That requires not killing me."
"Shang Qinghua is not being taken to his death."
"Oh." He wrote down in his notebook, Said he wouldn't eat me, but you SEE how that went. "You don't kill humans?"
"This king has killed many."
AH. COOL! While part of him infinitely panicked about those deaths, he couldn't help but focus on a detail to ease his mind, "King?"
"Mn."
"This one apologizes if he's been rude to such high royalty."
"Shang Qinghua would have been dead if he needed to apologize."
Okay, cool, just don't piss off this random creature!! Easier said than done, considering he wasn't expertised on monsterly culture- Or maybe Pale Reach culture? Perhaps the fish didn't go by how humans named the regions; he dared to pipe up, "So… is there anything this king would like to be called?"
"King suffices." There was a small wooshing of water as the creature swam to where it wanted to. "Shang Qinghua may assign another name."
Immediately, every name ever had left Qinghua's mind. "I- I like King."
"Assign another name."
Okay, fuck! He felt like he was in a dystopian gameshow that tested the people's knowledge to see if they should be killed. His gaze fluttered around, even if nothing else was in sight.
Qinghua tried to even his breathing best he could. They were… nowhere. Nothing else was nearby. Granted, he would've ended up with a stupid fucking name if he went for "Coral Seaweed" but it would've been nice for something to inspire him!
Or maybe this place was supposed to be as constant as a desert? Hell- the temperature mimicked nightly deserts. Maybe the king was based on a Northern Desert and he… glowed. A Northern Desert Light, what the fuck could he do with that?! He found a name leaving him without thought, "Mobei Guang-" He fidgeted with his notebook, "Or ah- Mobei Jun?"
He really wished he knew how much status mattered to sealife, but the narwhal didn't seem bothered by Qinghua's mis-steps so far. If anything he responded, "So that is what Shang Qinghua will call this king."
Well, at least he tried to make something smart instead of settling on 'Coral Seaweed.' But something irked him, "Since we're talking about names, you don't have to call me Shang Qinghua." It oddly felt too formal for a man like himself. "Just Qinghua is fine."
"Qinghua it is."
A weird as hell creature, but at least it was polite. He scrawled in his notebook, I've named it Mobei Jun, he's a king of- "So you're a king, yeah?"
"Mn."
Their speed slowed, Qinghua could only hope he didn't fuck up by opening that conversation tree. "What exactly are you a king of? This entire region?"
"Similar. Humans would define it oddly."
He wasn't offended by all, of course humans were weird creatures. "How so?"
"They go off of terrain. This king… utilizes time."
The puzzle pieces slowly appeared, but Qinghua could only wish that he took some marine classes back at the university. He pretended he understood it well.
As they came to a stop, Mobei Jun increased the intensity of his light. While it was blinding to directly look at, it easily illuminated some of the nearby plants. Some were purple vines that crawled across the ocean floor, while others were tall structures that could've almost looked like rocks. His stomach growled, but he only held his arm tighter over his torso.
"Do humans eat these?" Ah, so Mobei Jun heard it.
"Not that I can recall. I've never seen these before."
He quickly sketched out some illustrations before a surge of water managed to enter the bubble only to knock the book out of his hands and through the bubble. If he were any more informal with Mobei Jun, he would've complained about the lost research immediately, but the notebook soon rose back up into his bubble, surrounded by a sphere much smaller than his own.
It sat on the bubble floor he stood on, and he slowly picked it up, only to note that it was freezing. He marveled at it though. The sphere was glass-like, and he knocked on the edge only to receive an echoing sound back. He dryly laughed, oh this all must've been a fever dream, "So am I banned from getting my notebook?"
A deep grunt of disapproval shook his surroundings. "Qinghua has used it too much."
Okay, a bit of pettiness didn't hurt anyone (hopefully) as he pouted, "Well it likely could've been published." If he… had more proof than sounding like a lunatic.
"Published, mn." Mobei Jun swam to another section of the water, and Qinghua passively stared at the flora. "To join the graduate group?"
Qinghua barely snickered. It was cute how Mobei Jun barely grasped onto his words. "Yeah. For the graduate group." It all sounded so silly in retrospect, as if he was trying to impress the cool kids at school rather than form his academic career.
"The graduate group is not demure, nor mindful."
Oh fuck. Why couldn't he have spoken normally to the eldritch being? He absentmindedly wondered how much of Chappell Roan Mobei Jun now knew, but it wasn't the time for that. "Graduate school is demure. It's like- sorta necessary for what I want to do."
"The graduates have not taken care of you. You're weak."
Any automatic retort was cut short by the sight of a bubble merging with his own, it was a piece of glowing, yellow-orange fruit that hung off of a sliced vine. The bubble popped once Qinghua touched it, a minor surprise but he reached for the fruit. He squinted as he critically rotated the bulb, "A creepvine cluster? I thought they couldn't grow at this depth…"
"Is that edible for a human?"
"Should be. I haven't tried it before, but I can't recall any hazards." His mind felt hazy through the general starvation he had been under.
"Eat."
No need to tell him twice, screw the idea of toxic plants! He bit into the semi-tough layer of the cluster, only for it to explode with a matching yellow gel over his hands and face. Nothing got in his eyes, so he didn't wait to lap at what was still in front of him. The taste was sweet and acidic, similar to citrus, god he missed real flavors; he was more than burnt out on the protein bars he had.
After Qinghua ravenously devoured the cluster, two more had appeared in his bubble. He cleared his throat as he readied himself to eat another one. "Do you like these?"
Mobei Jun didn't respond for a moment as he swam ahead. "They never interested me."
He joked, "Ah, more of a carnivore?" He tugged at the stem of the creepvine, allowing it to almost seamlessly tear off so he could drink the insides.
"Yes."
The human choked but got himself to recover quickly. A large creature eating meat shouldn't have been surprising to him. "Well. Uh. Fair enough- wait, how do you know what that word even means?"
"Humans like Qinghua."
Qinghua looked left and right, as if the answer would suddenly appear. His head tilted, "Damsels in distress who yap too much?
"The Foundation."
The corporation that gave Qinghua his assignment. "Yet they hadn't told me about you."
"They do not return alive."
That somehow didn't surprise him, he casually continued eating. "From the phantom shark?"
Silence flowed just as the water did, to which Qinghua found an odd sense of dread building in his chest. He methodically watched Mobei Jun snag a few reeds out of an oblong white plant to bubble it and push it to Shang Qinghua.
The human wasn't as eager to pick it up. He couldn't help that the rumination was so easy to slip into, his recent weeks were only characterized by it. Part of him wanted to reason that the staff at communications weren't receptive to his cries for help; perhaps they were neutralized by other incidents in the past.
Then a more invasive part of his mind recognized that Mobei Jun was here to tell the tale, and that the creature was persistently staring at him.
"The inside of the reeds will heal Qinghua."
Quietly, with his heart racing, "Why are you helping me?"
Almost like a fae, the king did not answer. "Use what has been given."
The dim water felt reserved from any genuine feelings. It was like a space for high-stakes treaties, where Qinghua could only guess what the demonic creature wanted. "If I do, will you tell me?"
"Ngh. The story will not interest you."
"I'll decide that."
Mobei Jun grumbled with no apparent desire to continue their conversation. He swished away in the water, but Qinghua (somehow) certainly knew that the creature was still listening to him.
Or perhaps it was delusion, and he was finally losing it. Regardless, he was more ambitious than he should've been, some of the restlessness of isolation finally tumbling out of him. He stuck his chest up as he stood. He stumbled a little, but caught himself on the edge of the bubble. "If you know me as well as I think you do, you know I won't forget about this- I'd pester you."
Mobei Jun swam around the corner, not out of urgency, but as a natural path. His eyes scanned the human. "Then for the morning. Qinghua is tired."
The man scoffed. Even though it was accurate, he'd been through worse. He could stay up the rest of the night if he needed to.
And Mobei Jun unfortunately knew that too. He huffed, "Use the reeds, then sleep."
Qinghua pursed his lips. "You said they'll heal me- heal me of what?"
"Your leg."
He looked down, expecting nothing out of the ordinary, but ah. There was blood. The fabric was torn from the chaotic shark attack, he must've been too side-tracked to notice in that moment. At a simple glance, the wounds were deep enough for concern, but safe enough that they had stopped actively bleeding a while ago. He took a deep breath with this new knowledge, "I want to make a deal. You'll tell me why you're helping me today, and you can tell me about the others tomorrow."
The narwhal swam towards him, stared at him, and Qinghua could already visualize how quickly the creature could eat him. "For?"
He was too far in to back down now. He picked up the bubble of reeds, showing it off. "Me listening about this thing you gave me."
Agitation crept into Mobei Jun's voice, "It serves your best interest to take it."
"Yet I don't know why you want me to take it. So, if I assume it benefits you, it's likely to be my downfall." He waved his hand around, "Just socially or biologically, however you want to phrase it- I invaded your territory and it just makes more sense for you to kill me."
He carefully selected his words, "If you give me the reason why you're doing this, it'll make more sense to me why I should take it. I'd listen to whatever logic I could trust."
Qinghua only started breathing again when Mobei Jun spoke, "Fine."
Gentle relief washed over him, but it wasn't a true victory yet. The king stayed silent for a long time, long enough for Qinghua to open his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted. "Something is wrong with Qinghua."
"Excuse you?"
But suddenly, his own voice echoed back to him, <Apologizing to fish… Maybe there is something wrong with me.>
Memories quickly flashed to him, but in short, he was post-breakdown and an afterwave of secondhand-shittiness hit him like a truck. "So… apologizing to you is why I'm alive?"
"Something is wrong with Qinghua," the narwhal repeated. "Qinghua is not the same, he does not receive the same fate."
Genuinely, "So what do I deserve?"
"A break."
There was an odd tension on Qinghua's behalf, as if such… sympathy was misplaced, and it was Qinghua's fault to wrongly receive it.
He silently popped the bubble of the reeds. A gooey liquid was released right away, one that he hesitantly applied to his leg. He tightened his eyes at the first stinging press, "Ah-" before he managed to slowly touch the cool gel to the wound once more. He grimaced, "So it was pity?"
"Don't humanize this king, Qinghua."
Despite it all, his eyes smiled, "Sassy like a human, who says you can't pity like one?"
"Qinghua was mistreated by The Foundation, correct?"
He didn't need the audio played back to him that time. A gut reaction wanted to defend his higher-ups, "I'm biased, you can't trust me as a source."
"Your body says more." While the injury was fresh, his body ached from use. His stomach was full now, but he couldn't even eat much to accomplish that. He hadn't been sleeping well, his panic attacks were more frequent-
"Well, thank you?" It was an awkward start, but it worked well enough. "But that's still pity."
"The Foundation placed Qinghua out here, knowing he would die."
"Woah, that's pretty dramatic, don't you think?" He quickly added, "Not including the shark attack!"
In a nonchalant tone <Sleep lets me forget I'm starving half to death.>
"That's called a hyperbole, it's done to… be funny?" Sort of, on the excuse and the reason.
More emotional, in a rage, <If it wasn't enough that I'm starving to death, I'm fucking cold all the damn time.>
"That was…"
Melancholy finally reflected back to him, <Just let me die. Let it be quick.> Qinghua cringed.
"Yeah, I felt… bad. But I wouldn't have died. I just felt like I would for a while."
"And that's better?"
Qinghua could barely parse through the creature's tone, of if it was talking down to him or genuinely asking about human concepts. He grumbled, educationally, "Not much."
"Qinghua is sharp. He does not deserve to be weakened."
God- he was pathetic, he smiled a bit, even blushed at the simple words. "Thank you." He pressed slightly into his wound, letting pain erase his easily flushed expression.
"And Qinghua deserves sleep."
He experimentally laid back in the bubble, finding it to be reasonably comfortable. "I like talking to you though."
He yawned and didn't notice his eyes automatically closing. "Qinghua can find this king again. If he does… we may speak further."
When he opened his eyes to respond to Mobei Jun, he found himself laying on the shore with a concerned man sitting over him. The stranger looked older, worn-down, but not cynical. He sounded insistent, "-Can you hear me?"
Qinghua quickly leaned up and stared at the shoreline. His chest was tight with an odd sense of loss that he had never felt before. Mobei Jun wasn't there, and he didn't need to call for the narwhal to be aware of that.
"Young man, can you hear me?"
He eventually nodded. His body felt rusty to move.
"Good. Does anything hurt?"
He shook his head.
"Do you know where you are?"
He didn't bother to glance at the town behind him. His voice was rough, "The Pale Reach."
A laugh came out of the stranger before it dimmed, realizing the genuineness of Qinghua's answer, "Ah- no. We're quite a distance away from there. Your memory must've gotten scrambled." The man moved a fraction towards him before stopping. "Can you stand?"
It was likely he could, but he didn't bother much to speak. He instead stood up, although a bit shaky on his feet, he managed to stay stable. A glance down by his legs revealed a gash on the clothing- a jagged tear that would have never arose naturally. The skin was raised as bumps, almost like hives that reached higher above the skin than they should've.
Except they weren't ordinary at all, the bumps were as white as snow. It could've been recognized as unique pigmentation if Qinghua didn't know his body at all.
The stranger winced and furrowed his brow, "Ah, it's never good to have ripped clothing. These waters will do things to you. Does it hurt at all?"
Qinghua dared to let his fingers graze the top of the monsterly skin, before instantly flinching back from the immediate coldness.
Quickly after the momentary shock, he pressed on the skin. It was hardened but smooth, like shells. It seemed perfectly healed already.
The stranger was hesitant, "I have some medical supplies, but I've never seen something like that before. We can get you out to the Stellar Basin if need be. It's a decent commute, but I know a man, Mu Qingfang, he could surely assist you." He sighed. "But for now, would you be willing to come back with me? I could at least get you in some more comfortable clothes."
He'd been wearing his uniform for so long, he had forgotten he could take it off. With the cold always surrounding him, it was never viable to exit the thing that preserved some body heat. He awkwardly stood there for a moment, partially unused to the idea of socialization (aside from Mobei Jun, which wouldn't leave his mind).
The stranger tried to smile, "My apologies, perhaps I've come off as invasive. My name is Yue Qingyuan, I'm Mayor of the Marrows." He held his hand out.
The researcher stared at the appendage, no inclination to shake it. After a while, he mustered up, "Shang Qinghua," but all he could hear was how Mobei Jun would deeply rumble his name.
"Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Shang Qinghua." It was all too bright for what he got used to. "Would you like to visit my residence? I can at least make you some food."
It was the first time in a while that his stomach didn't immediately rumble at the idea of food, but he still felt a minor tug in his gut. He stared off into the ocean for a while before he gave a small nod and turned away. He didn't bother to stare at the town, his deadpan eyes stayed close to the ground, not even bothering to think as he followed the mayor.
Those last few lines played in his mind on loop. Qinghua can find this king again. If he does… we may speak further.
"If" his ass. Qinghua was going to find that stupid fish again, and at least make him properly say goodbye.