Owner	Pose
Nerina Rosso	Waves lap against the desolate, rocky coastline on the southern curve of Long Island, washing a tide of seaweed and shells onto ground too rough for development as a beach or marina. A thin strip of sand hides partly visible beneath the water, illuminated by the mid-morning sun - at low tide the shoreline retreats just enough to expose it. But now, at high tide, the waves slap instead against rocks - and the occasional plastic bottle.     One section of tidal water courses through a small rivulet between boulders, rising up over a small lip of sand, then leaving a tiny puddle behind as it recedes. Up and over, up and over it passes... then at the push of a preternatural tide, it rushes up enough to fully fill the well and continues rising above the rocks around it. The blue water of the bay stretches up in a tower of three long teardrops that cast a glistening shadow while tracking inland. Refracted light dances upon a bed of seaweed as the teardrops gain shape and definition - forming the phantasmal silhouette of a young woman. Behind the unnatural tide, a rough-skinned gray body carves a furrow as it's dragged up the shoal.     Darkening and gaining colors, the water turns around and tugs on the tail-fin in its hand as it solidifies - human, naked, and female. The sunlight that sparkled on the shore in her shadow now instead glistens across the young mutant's skin as she drops her baggage beside her. It's a fully grown shark, dead, and maimed by crude knife wounds. Rising up from the tide around her ankles, a cheap pocket knife flows up into the palm of her hand along with a golden necklace that settles around her throat.     Nerina looks around the coast as a gust of salty air whips her long blonde hair across her body and she brushes it aside before turning up to admire the sun. She breathes deeply of the clear, sun-warmed air, and sighs blissfully before resuming her trek. Scampering nimbly atop a large, angular rock, she crouches over its side and peers down into the shadowy void beneath it.          A flock of seagulls squawk overhead, as the young mutant drags out a plastic bag and reaches inside to retrieve her clothes and get properly dressed.
Akula	Cue a slow clap. Some distance away is a large figure among a rocky outcropping where the tide flows in at high, and leaves a cave when low. The New England shore is not known much for its sand, and amid all the dark ocean-smoothed stone, this particular individual, despite their size, blends in almost perfectly. Even her hair is nearly the same color as the rocks, her hide lightly speckled. She looks similar to the dead shark Nerina is carrying. "Very impressif!" she calls out. "Is not every day I am seeink that kind of show." She grins, a show of wide triangular teeth.
Nerina Rosso	The knife-fisher jumps in surprise and falls off her rock with a startled yelp, landing in the pile of small stones and seaweed behind it. Standing up with a groan, the youth brushes herself off and uses the cover to get herself at least halfway dressed before she peeks back around the rock to look at... oh. Oh wow. Nerina blinks as a strand of caught seaweed flops over her sea-blue eye and murmurs something that might not be company-friendly in Italian, followed by a slightly kinder, "What are you?... and how long were you there?" A black bra strap pokes out as the scrawny waif leans a little further into view. She's not completely naked at least.
Akula	Akula is. She's been fishing. "Long enough to see you are either magic or freak of nature," the larger woman explains. "Like me. Is no offense." She slides off the rock with a *thud*, her feet impacting wet sand like a hammer on wood. Her tail follows after her, as she walks closer to the other woman. The shark woman's accent is thickly Russian, her dialect indicative that she came from somewhere around the White Sea. "Seems you were doing what I was. Only, with more junk in your hands."
Nerina Rosso	The blonde frowns and bites nervously at her thumb as she glances aside, slipping further behind the rock as the shark-woman approaches. "Grande," she murmurs, talking to herself again. "Sapevo che stavo nuotando troppo tardi..." With a sigh, the young woman shuts her eyes for a moment to recollect her thoughts, then looks down at her plastic bag and pulls out more clothes. She at least has a pair of shorts to go with her underwear as well as a shirt. What's on display right now is... scrawny. The blonde's ribs are a little too easy to count. Glinting as it catches the light, bright and untarnished by sea water, the heart-shaped locket resting against her chest is the one bright spot to her appearance. That and if Akula has a thing for hair... as she crouches over the plastic bag, it almost touches the sand.
Akula	"Italianski," Akula appraises. "But you do not look it." There's a keen observation - or maybe some kind of wild stab at a guess. "What are you doing out here in cold water swimming? I am guessing again, you are not bothered by cold. What is beink your name?" The larger woman just asks - half commands - and expects the smaller one to cave in and obey.
Nerina Rosso	Nerina hastily finishes dressing, slipping sandals on her feet to spare them from the rocky shore. "Yes, I'm un italiano, and you sound so Russo I almost expect milking you to make vodka."
Akula	"HAH!" Akula laughs sharply, amused by the quip. "I would have to bend over pretty far if you want to try!" Yep. There's that filthy sense of humor.
Nerina Rosso	The last item from Nerina's bag is a plastic flute, both of which are shoved into her pockets with the musical barrel left poking a few inches out. Tugging for a moment at the seaweed on her face, the naiad makes a token effort to get the ocean out of her hair... and only really succeeds in getting it out of her face. The young blonde huffs in frustration and flings it over her shoulder, letting it slap her in the back like a wet noodle as she walks back across the rocks to where she left the shark... the smaller shark, that is. "Nessuno," she answers tersely. "You?"
Akula	"Akula," is the reply. "Would tendertoe water nymph like some assistance? I am capable of carrying you, if rocks hurt your feet." She's said it in earnest, a simple offering, a wide smile and playful expression accompanying it. She asks no questions about why the girl is apparently that watery, where she's come from, or what she's doing. She's focused on the immediate needs she sees in front of her.
Nerina Rosso	The naiad pauses and looks back over - and up, way up. Nerina might have a sore neck by the end of their conversation. "To where?" she asks as she grabs the dead shark's tail and hefts it against herself with a grunt.
Akula	"Where do you want to go?" Akula asks, standing up straight, hands on hips.
Nerina Rosso	"Maybe somewhere I can make a fire and eat my lunch in peace?" Nerina tries, glancing from one shark to the other.
Akula	"All right tiny water person. Suit yourself," Akula shrugs, smiling still. "I am goink back for hunt. Maybe find you later." Was that a threat? Hopefully not! The sideye the large shark gives the smaller woman is questionable. She turns back towards the ocean and walks across the rocks, unphased, wandering into the incoming tide.
Nerina Rosso	Nerina raises an eyebrow as the towering Russian strides past her. "What are you hunting?" she asks while the creature is still on land.
Akula	"Fish!" Akula calls back. "Sometimes is salmon, sometimes is cod, sometimes is whole tuna." She stops and looks back, water up to her ankles. "Sometimes is shark, too." She tries to be reassuring.
Nerina Rosso	The naiad looks with conflict between the dead shark in her hand and the live one in the surf, furrowing her brow in a fit of indecision. "Have my shark if you catch me four cod," she offers, hefting the animal off the rocks. "And I'll go with you. Anything after that, we split?"
Akula	"Have you considered attacking a fishing boat?" Akula asks. "Will take some time to get cod, you are better off eating shark now. Faster way is to take fish from market before market opens." She turns around now to face Nerina.
Nerina Rosso	"With what, a little knife?" Nerina scoffs, pulling out her weapon. "Four bass or tuna or almost anything is better than this shark, and how many times do you think I could steal before someone shoots me?" "My guess? Uno."
Akula	"You were water before. Do not tell me that water cannot get onto a ship and get off without being noticed," Akula points out.
Nerina Rosso	"While carrying fish? That is harder than you think," Nerina replies.
Akula	"Sneak on, throw fish off, sneak off. Is easier than being giant shark-woman, trust me. I am usually haffink to come in roaring, make workers piss pants, then take crate," Akula explains.
Nerina Rosso	"You're so big, why not break the propellers with a rock, then crack the hull?" Nerina asks with a thoughtful frown.
Akula	"Then cannot go get more fish for me later," Akula reasons simply. "I do not need whole boat of fish. Only small portion. If I am causing big mess instead of small raids, response becomes increasingly dangerous."
Nerina Rosso	Nerina's eyes looks the towering shark over at the mention of 'small portion' and she raises a skeptical eyebrow to go with her frown. "And what about the fish market? How do you recommend stealing from *that* when it's full of people."
Akula	Akula grins, the right side of her face showing teeth. "I don't."
Nerina Rosso	Nerina stares back as her expression drops to a deadpan. "Come in roaring, make workers piss pants, then take crates, si?" she guesses bluntly. "Well maybe if you are so good at ''scarink'' fish markets and I am so good at stealing from boats, we can share and both win," the naiad considers as she lifts the hem of her shirt, still having half a mind to join the shark it seems.
Akula	"It would be better for you if you didn't accompany me anywhere," Akula answers, shaking her ehead. "I am not opposed to bringing you food if you need it. But travelling with me is only trouble. If I must, I will go back to the sea for another thirty years."
Nerina Rosso	Nerina sets a hand on her hip and cocks her head to the side... ignoring the seaweed-tangled bang that falls back into her face. "I prefer trading. You draw... attention, and you do not look like you have been swimming for thirty years."
Akula	"I am Seaman second class Akula, Soviet Naval officer of the Northern Fleet," Akula explains. The 'soviet' bit will give away some of her age. "I do not look it, but I have been. Was better than watching the union be overrun by capitalist swine." She folds her arms over her chest.
Nerina Rosso	"Buon dolore, I hope you're not what I have to look forward to in old age," the naiad murmurs at the revelation. "So you turned and ran away. E in case you did not read the history books, it destroyed itself without American help."
Akula	"I was there during the August coup attempt on the Duma. Believe me, I know," Akula says, sounding bitter, smile fleeing from her face. "The country I bled and killed for stuck its head up it's own [censored]." She looks out at the sea. "Now there is nothing left for me but swimming and hunting. Not so bad... but not the life of a soldier."
Nerina Rosso	"Hmph, that's a boring life," Nerina cracks as she turns her eyes past Akula and out to the far-off horizon and shimmering ocean surface. The plastic flute leaves the naiad's pocket and she twirls it between her fingers idly. "Better than hiding and starving," she adds with a sliver of spite - jealousy perhaps. From behind the towering Soviet, the opening phrase of Peter and the Wolf dances its way over the rocks.
Akula	"I don't mind. It's quiet. No one hunts me. I have time to think." The music drifts in, and the giant shark's tail sways back and forth in the water idly. "Besides. There is no use for discarded soldiers in this world."
Nerina Rosso	Nerina lets the last note of the phrase hang in the air before lowering her flute. "You've never heard of a 'mercenary' have you?" she dead-pans. "People are killing each other trying to make someone like you who can do 'scarink' for them."     "And thirty years alone is much too long to think."
Akula	"Mercenaries are not soldiers. They serve nothing but themselves and money," Akula crisply retorts. Seems she has strong feelings about that. "I do not need filthy money. That is for Amercanskis." Her tail swishes again. "Thirty years is not enough time to think. There is much to think on. Much to remember."
Nerina Rosso	"Hardly," Nerina dismisses. "You had a country you loved and now it is gone. How do you need more than thirty years to remember that? I can fit my whole life into one sleepless night."
Akula	"That is because you are so young your life can be written on a single piece of paper," Akula states. She stares out over the water. Her face looks grim.
Nerina Rosso	"Twice as old so your life gets two pieces. That's two sleepless nights," Nerina replies as she steps along the rocks to get closer to the water with Akula. Forgotten again as her gaze follows the shark's out to sea, the plastic flute rests softly on her shoulder.     The naiad's stomach growls audibly but the girl herself doesn't seem to notice. A momentary glance is given upward as she steps into the Russian's shadow before looking back at the waves. "Nessuno's" own eyes are dull and dry; empty like her stomach.     "Too bad there's no big happy afterlife where the dead all come back and have a big party," she cracks.
Akula	"There would not be a party for me," Akula says. She's picked up on the growling stomach, however, and she looks back down at the smaller woman. "Come. You need provisions. Do you take them raw or cooked?"
Nerina Rosso	A seaborne breeze knocks the youth's long hair back from her face and flutters her t-shirt against her scrawny frame. She takes a slow, deep breath of the salty air it brings and comes back to look up at Akula a few moments late.     "Cooked when I can," she dismisses.
Akula	"I have a place you can go. Shelter, food, bed. If you do not mind, I can give you rest. That is, if you will trust an old Soviet," Akula offers.
Nerina Rosso	"I trust you as far as I can throw you," Nerina answers in her same half-attentive tone, as if somehow the mammoth predator casting her in shadow was just a lamppost or a street sign. A glance is given back at her killed shark as the waif taps her flute against her shoulder.     "To where?" she questions again.
Akula	"Warehouse. Manhattan. Was gifted to me by someone who took pity on me," Akula explains. "No reason not to share. Is the way of the worker, we all share together, da?"
Nerina Rosso	Nerina considers the offer silently for a moment, then weighs in, "That sounds crowded. Warehouse by the water?"
Akula	"It's big, and yes, by the water. I need to hunt, after all. Man who owns it is very nice. Stronger than he looks," Akula offers.
Nerina Rosso	"Okay," Nerina accepts, gesturing over her shoulder with her flute. "Twenty dollars if we do not bring my shark. You can eat it if you save me the fins, da?"