Leo the Mer-Guy! Chapter Eighteen: The Bite

“Oh, uh, wow,” Leo said, mind racing  as he processed Alfia’s words. He could be a pond Mer. A mer-person. But not just any mer-person. A were mer-person. A were mer-person witch.

 

Who could shapeshift, look like anything.

 

Look like himself.

 

Leo understood, on a practical level, that this was a big decision. That this would change his life. That there would be problems–big problems. That it wouldn’t magically make his life any better or any cooler. That he would have responsibilities.

 

Leo had read his fair share of fantasy novels. He knew it was not a unicycle ride through a spring park.

 

Knowing all this, he still knew his answer, immediately, enthusiastically, and without reservations.

 

The answer was yes.

 

He’d always loved the water, he’d always been a dreamer, he’d always been queer. He’d always wanted to help people, stopped by a powerful loneliness and shyness. A powerful fear.

 

This was, in one sense, a purpose for Leo. A commitment.

 

He was crying, but it was underwater, so no one could tell. Still, his throat was tight, his chest burning. He didn’t deserve this gift.

 

“Yes,” he said. “You can do it. I want to help.”

 

Alfia grinned. They made some sharp, loud noise, like a dolphin at a rave, clicks echoing through the murky water. A half dozen mer-people showed up, forming a circle around Leo, including Aristea, who looked pumped, shaking and dancing in place.

 

“Are you ready?” Alfia asked.

 

Leo squared his shoulders, lifted his head, and nodded.

 

Alfia swam forward, coming close enough that Leo could see the glittering chips of green and blue in their eyes. “This may hurt.”

 

Using their webbed hands, Alfia tilted Leo’s neck, exposing the tan skin to the glowing light.

 

“I’m doing it in 3, 2, 1,” Alfia said.

 

Then they bit down, their sharp teeth piercing the skin of Leo’s neck.

 

Leo bit his lip, cutting off a pained groan. He’d had his blood drawn before, but this was way worse. The pain was sharp and unending, beating out a rhythm that felt like he was bleeding out, he was dying. Had he made a mistake trusting these people? Was this actually the end?

 

His eyelids fluttered, his fingers and toes going fuzzy. Just before he could pass out, he felt his body growing warm all over, vibrating and tingling through him like he was in a jet-fueled hot tub.

 

The whole world went bright, stadium-light white, then disappeared in a slurry of bubbles.

An Introduction

Hello, Micey here. My series Sketchbook Smashing will be my attempt to chronicle all my character designs and how they evolve through candid shots of my sketchbook and doodles. This is an introduction to the characters I draw the most and my character design goals, so it’ll be a bit longer than my usual posts.

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Leo the Mer-Guy! Chapter Seventeen: The Prophecy

Okay, Leo could get down with this. The knowledge that gender mattered here, too, that they looked at it differently, inspired Leo. This was no Harry Potter. “So what did you mean you’ve been expecting me?”

 

“Oh, there’s a kind of prophecy or something,” Aristea said. “Let me get my egg-parent.”

 

Aristea disappeared into the tealy gloom, out of reach of the orb of light they had summoned. A beat later, they came back with an older-looking mer-person who had a darker-colored tail and some scars across their shoulders.

 

“Greetings, Leo,” the new person said. “I am Alfia, keeper of the prophecy.”

 

“N-nice to meet you,” Leo said. “I’m Leo.”

 

“Yes,” Alfia said, “I know who you are. The prophecy speaks of a young human boy, misunderstood and unseen by his birth community, who will act as a bridge between worlds, connecting the mer-people to the witches on land.”

 

Leo swallowed, his ears going hot. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “You might have the wrong Leo. I’m just some kid. I have no idea how to do all that.”

 

Alfia’s green lips wobbled up into a slightly comical but no less genuine smile. “Oh, child,” they said. “You do not need to know anything. You just need to be exactly who you are.”

 

“Easier said than done,” Leo said weakly.

 

“We can help, possibly,” Alfia said. “I have an offer for you.”

 

Leo waited for the mer-person to continue.

 

“We are pond Mer. There are Mer in the oceans, in rivers and streams. We are all different from each other, but connected by our love for the water and what it gives us. Us pond Mer have a special ability. We can change our forms. 

 

“For this reason, we welcome our young ones, our tad-Mers, to experience and change forms as much as they like. It takes some energy, and can be tiring, but it has led to a community of people who deeply understand each other and value themselves. 

 

With one bite, I can transform you into a Mer person. However, it will not be as though you were born one of us. You will still maintain a part of your human heritage. This means that, under a full moon, a new moon, and a half moon, you will be Mer, but under other moons, you will be human. If you desire to spend your days in the water, with us, we can find a way to do that. So how does that sound?”

The Rise of the Band Geeks, Episode 1: Kendra

The wind whipped through Kendra’s thin excuse of a raincoat, and harsh droplets stung her cheeks and speckled her glasses.  Her arms were drawn into her sides as she stood, shivering, her feet planted in a 45-degree angle and the tips of her fingers red and numb.  Locked in her left hand was her cell phone with its shattered screen protector and worn case, opened on an intricate display of symbols and letters across a coordinate plane.  She squinted at the screen now, at the highlighted dot at the head of a thin lime line, the opposite end of which marked where she currently stood.

 

The wind picked up, flung a punch directly into her slight form.  Behind her, someone let out a curse he thought nobody else would hear.  He must have nearly shouted, since she could hear him well enough despite the thick foam plugs wedged into her ear canals.  Not that she blamed him.  She was biting back her own gripe, but she was saving her lips and breath for playing, and she did not have much air left.

 

A command made faint by the plugs in her ears prompted her to travel to her next dot.  Another backwards move–seriously?–in sixteen counts, and diagonally to boot.  Still, she scurried to the next spot on the field with haste, if only to warm herself for five seconds.

 

The hand holding her horn was frigid.  Even with the grease-stained, formerly white glove on, the low temperature, drizzle, and gusts brutalized her extremities, and it wasn’t like these gloves were meant for insulation.  They were meant for playing this damn instrument, a rental from the band hall with a sticking valve and perpetually flat tone, that she played outside of practice, oh, maybe once or twice a week if she felt like it.  If she thought she stood a chance, she’d practice harder, almost every day, but things had tapered off once she’d realized she wasn’t as good as the other kids in her section.  She’d tried to get her motivation back several times, but it just wasn’t there anymore, like she’d somehow given up.

 

Another direction issued from the tower compelled her to run back to her previous dot, phone in one hand and rain-slicked brass instrument in another, her ears stinging and the hood of her jacket flopping back, dodge a random cymbal player, and stand at attention, all while shoving her phone back into its pocket on the inside of her jacket.  They’re just marching for now, sixteen steps back with their respective instruments held aloft, yet Kendra found herself doubting her step size, her ability to march in time to the metronome.

 

This was for the homecoming game; everyone was in the show, regardless of how good they were.  Kendra was thrilled to be out on the field marching actual drill and learning music for a show she would perform, yet she could not shake the nagging notion, the mantra that sometimes kept her awake at night:

 

You’ll never be good enough for this.

Leo the Mer-Guy! Chapter Sixteen: MerCulture

Leo had just enough consciousness left to nod in affirmation.

 

His mouth popped open, desperate for oxygen.

 

Instead of filling with cold rushing water, Leo took in a ragged, gasping, but completely oxygenated, breath.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

He was at the bottom of the pond.

 

A glowing light about the size of a lightbulb illuminated the water around him. Beneath his feet were sand and stones and shells.

 

He was in an air bubble as big as those human hamster balls Leo had been hearing so much about.

 

Just outside the air bubble, small, brown fish swam past.

 

And there was a person floating there looking at him.

 

Except they weren’t a person, not exactly, at least. They had a tail, like an actual fish tail. It was brown-gold and scary and lined with fins, and looked way different from Ariel in the Little Mermaid. It was a lot more… fishy.

 

They had a human torso, but their skin was toned grey-blue, and was just as scaly-shiny as their tail, with gills lining their sides like ribs. Their fingers were webbed, their lips plush, their nose slitted and smooth against their face. Their ears were pointed like Spock’s and had small cilia fluttering off of them in the water current. Their hair moved in one big piece, oily and slick.

 

And their eyes.

 

Their eyes glowed orange, with dark pupils like a cat’s eye.

 

Leo was frozen. He stared at the other person in shock.

 

It was a lot to take in.

 

The fish person lifted a webbed, blue hand and waved it. Their bubble lips pursed in an awkward smile. They hugged their other arm around their sparkly torso. “Um, hi?” the fish person said. It was bubbly and strange, but somehow Leo still heard it, still understood. “Are you Leo?”

 

“Um…” Leo wasn’t sure how to respond. You didn’t really get taught the protocol for this kind of thing in school. “Yes?”

 

“Oh, good, cool,” the mer-person said. “I’m Aristea. We’ve been expecting you.”

 

“Oh… wow,” Leo said, feeling like an idiot. “What pronouns do you use?”

 

Aristea blinked and cocked their head. “What?”

 

“Like how should I refer to you? She spoke, he spoke, they spoke…”

 

Aristea shrugged. “Any of that is cool,” they said. “We don’t really use the same uselessly exclusive social constructs down here.”

Leo the Mer-Guy! Chapter Fifteen: Into the Depths

Leo disappeared underwater.

 

He closed his mouth to stop the questionable water from getting in. He wasn’t prepared to taste that earthy latte. It was pitch black, blacker than black, with no sign of light. The water got deep enough that his feet couldn’t touch the ground.

 

He came up for air, gasping for breath and treading water.

 

“Leo–” someone called out.

 

And then he dove.

 

Eyes closed, mouth closed, wishing he could close every orifice, Leo swam toward the bottom of the pond. His hands and feet were so cold now that they hurt in little sharp points, like pieces of glass were sticking into him from all sides.

 

More than anything, he wanted to give up, to leave, to swim back to the surface and give his friends an embarrassed and rueful grin.

 

But he didn’t.

 

How many times in his life had other people pulled him back from stepping into water? How many times had he been rescued from zoo enclosures and mall fountains full of wish pennies? Too many times to count. His parents loved bringing it up at family reunions, though he knew that in private they were concerned about him.

 

This was the first time he’d actually done it. He’d actually succeeded in bending to the will of the water, to the urge to bury himself in it.

 

Leo expected to hit the bottom of the pond after six or seven good paddles. He’d been on the swim team in middle school for a hot minute and could really pick up speed.

 

But it didn’t happen. The water seemed to be endless. Leo’s chest grew tight, burning, his hands numb, his paddling weak.

 

Was he going to die here?

 

Was he literally going to die here, in some random pond in the middle of inhabited suburbia in the midwest?

 

The water around him grew warm. A weak, teal-white light started to glow beneath him. He was too tired to move. His eyelids fluttered open, his throat begging to open up.

 

Yep. This must be what dying felt like.

 

He closed his eyes. At the very moment he decided to give up, to breathe in the water, a warm and slippery hand clutched his.

 

“Let us help you,” a wavering, underwater-y voice said, somehow in his head and not. “Will you let us?”