Chapter Text
⭐️
-Villagers POV
The beach, the opening act to the spectacular performance that is the sea.
Sea salt dances upon your tongue, musty seaweed permeates the air, and the smell of sweet summer fixes itself within your brain. Gentle waves cascade along the beach sands, millions of shells being crushed to the fine grit sand you know to litter the beaches.
The sea, a place of wonder, a place of picnics, and swimming, a place of sand castles, and peeling sunburn. For you and your village, the beach is an activity, not a place. However the beach has become tainted by litter, a piece of filth staining your beautiful beach-y shores.
Weirdly enough, this piece of litter seems to have gorgeous blue hair, turned almost copper by the warm rays of the sun. From its size and height it looks to be around 12 years of age; from behind you would assume it to be a normal child, a little rough around the edges, obvious from its ratty striped top, and ripped shortened slacks. But even with its dishevelled appearance you would still assume this boy to be a normal, average child.
However the moment this child turns around, its face meeting yours, you would know it was not normal, or average in any way, its face itself is a deviant to all you know to be true about humans. Placed in the centre of its pale supple skin, is a blemish, so big in fact you would assume it to be a circus performer. What lies atop this young boy's flesh that makes it such a horrible blemish to your village? A plump red clown nose. This feature alone sets it apart, makes it out to be a silly little thing, an entertainer. However the nose is not a problem, simply without further knowledge you would assume it to be a bit fucked up mentally, as only weird children want to wear clown noises. However that is not all, this nose is not a mental abnormality, but a physical one. This young boy is not simply an outsider, but it is a sick disgusting thing with a horrible blemish extruding from his flesh, a literal marking from the gods, allowing you and anyone who crosses its path that this young 'man', is a freak.
—
The water gives. It gives food, it gives water, and it gives opportunities. But despite its crystal clear depths, its gentle warmth and its loving salt, the sea also takes. It can take everything from you, your home, your food, your life, or your treasure. I knew that better than anyone, for the sea had taken a great treasure from me, something I will suffer without for the rest of my life. Yet I do not hate the seas, for its beautiful depths are meant to be explored, so how could I be mad that my two most precious treasures will spend the rest of their lives exploring the seas' lengthy depths?
— First person
At the end of the town where human life ends and animal life flourishes, is a dumping site. A place where people discard the unwanted, the rotting, the dead, the defective. The first night I had arrived here, the first night of my freedom, my very first taste of life as a ‘person’ I was directed here when I asked a stranger where I might find somewhere to live. Their idea of a sick joke, a funny tease, has allowed me to build myself up to become the flashy clown I am today. Through the litter and the rot, I found almost belonging. I feel at home amongst the discarded, blending in a way that I never could with people.
My bare feet smack violently against the mossy cobble of my village's market, panic pushes its way into my mind, and takes hold of my body, as a strong push of emotion surges me forward through the crowd. My body is small and has been made flexible through the performances I’ve performed to earn money. All of this has made me excellent at speedily making my way through the masses of people without the need to push or prod.
I drift my eyes down to my hands once again to check that I do in fact still have my treasure in hand. My first ever thing I’ve owned really, I mean I have things I guess, they’re amazing, made amazing beyond comparison just by my very existence! But they aren’t truly mine, I didn't ‘earn’ them as I did this. A full month of careful saving has got me this bad boy! I risk a glance towards my open palms, as expected, they continue to house a long satin ribbon, its soft silky fabric perfect for keeping my hair out of my face, as I don’t have any real way to cut it. Plus when I perform in the village I've been told its length gives me a ‘dreamy look’, whatever that means, at least I think it’s a compliment?
Eventually my feet stop their pitter patter, as I know instinctively that I have arrived. Home.