05 - Sophae 01 - A Milkshake

Sophae woke with a bump. Sitting up in her tired old cot tucked into a corner of her tiny (although Sophae preferred to think of it as /portable/) boat, she was rocked again by another impact. Honestly, she grumbled to herself as she pulled the ratty wool blankets off her pale legs, would it kill them to be a little patient?
Setting the tin moka pot onto a makeshift hotplate, soon the alluring aroma of early morning coffee filled the tiny space. Sophae soon focused on a map set on the centerpiece of the cabin, a table of rectangular shape, bounded on all sides, with a latched lid on top. Perusing the schedule of the day, Sophae recognized a name - /The Windy Isle/. Turning on her freshly charged handheld radio with a twist of a knob and a crackle of noise, Sophae made contact with the harbor authorities.
“Piscary Port, this is Sophae, reporting in for the morning, over”
“Piscary Port hears you loud and clear - someone’s had their coffee already, eh Soph? Over”
Sophae rolled her eyes. One of the relatively new radio ops was on today, a cheery man named Walter. One look at Sophae and he had been trying to buddy up to her ever since. /Men/.
“Piscary Port, anything of note? Over”
“Some dark clouds heading our way, looking to hit the coast at about 13 hundred. Other than that, situation nominal. Over.” To his credit, Sophae admitted begrudgingly, Walter did at least know how to stay concise. Unfortunately, she realized, those storm clouds were incoming precisely when /The Windy Isle/ was making land. Ah well. Sophae wasn’t afraid of a few storm clouds.
“Thank you, Piscary Port. Stay warm.” Sophae clicked off the radio as Walter began once more to inquire -- about something. Sophae hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out. Sophae’s unusual position and location, both physically and bureaucratically in the port lent to many unwanted questions. But she did her job well, even if most were unaware what exactly her job was, in its entirety. She pulled her tartan overshirt off over her head, brown curls tumbling back onto her shoulders as she straightened back up. Well, partially. The boat’s cabin was rather low. Worn and faded corduroy pants followed, her coveted woolen socks, and lastly, the whimsical panties she had noticed one day in a shop window. They were decorated with smiling seals. She had chuckled to herself while purchasing them, and the shopkeeper had seemed confused. Nude, she folded and tucked the clothes into place under her cot.
And with a smiling face, she opened a sturdy, but unassuming box, and pulled out her skin. Clutching her skin in one hand, she moved the map off of the rectangular centerpiece and unlatched the top panel. A few feet below, the harbor water glistened in the faint light of the cabin. She stepped both feet into her skin, shimmied it up to her waist, twisted, and with a /plop/, dived into the water.
Another seal, a bit larger than Saephra (for that was Sophae in seal speak), approached her as she oriented herself in the water.
Saephra spoke to him, and he understood, and swam away smoothly, as only seals can do. Saephra spent an hour or so checking in on the harbor, occasionally giving chase to a fish or two, which proved to be quite delicious for her breakfast. Nothing like fresh fish, she chuckled as she recalled the sushi available above the surface.
It had been a few hours in the water when she redirected a pod of whales away from the harbor, giving them directions on how to get to the feeding. They thanked her, and offered her protection should they cross in times of peril, which Saephra returned. In the usual exchange of news, Saephra learned her kin were still faring well, with a new pup-child added recently. When she pressed for more specifics, the whales merely returned they did not understand the customs of her kind, and could provide no further insight. Saephra was left wondering if it was a cousin, niece-nephew, or perhaps, unlikely as it seemed, a sibling.
Saephra decided to have a sandwich for lunch midway through her alpha seal’s midday report. It wasn’t always easy, but rather than becoming the matriarch of her own seal colony, Saephra had established a somewhat parallel power structure with the existing seals in the harbor. The alpha, a battle-scarred male seemed more thoughtful than most seals, and almost always deferred to her requests and directions for the colony. He seemed unusually aware of the influence she could have above and below the surface, and stayed in her good graces.
Breaking the surface within the tunnel-like structure, Sophae removed her skin. She paused and wrang the water out of her dark hair before reaching up with one arm - the other safely clutching her skin- and pulling herself into the cabin of her boat. She was unusually strong in either form for her kind, and it had proven fortuitous many times. Preparing to leave her boat in human form for the first time that day, Sophae hesitated. Was it a Tuesday? She smiled sheepishly, realizing it was. Her hand found a comfortable dress, one that framed her chest rather well in her opinion. Slipping it on, she admired herself in the secondhand mirror she had pulled up from the harbor’s depths one day. She stowed her skin in the box, tucking it back underneath her coat, latched the water entrance, and stepped into her simple slip-on shoes, and out through her cabin’s intended door. Sophae took a deep breath of the fresh seaside air, and found her way up the dock and towards The Stout Lighthouse.
Crossing the threshold, her senses were immediately, and predictably, assaulted with the smell of fryer oil and vinegar. Sophae sat down in an available bar seat towards the rear. Presently, a glass filled with Sophae’s favorite, a chocolate milkshake, was slid in front of her. Brought back from her daydreaming, Sophae focused on the woman in front of her.
“Hey Sophae, here’s your usual. The rest will be coming up shortly,” the woman said with warmth, and a touch of sass.
“Much appreciated as always, Naylia. I’ll admit, I was hoping I’d catch you here today,” Sophae said awkwardly, before hurriedly taking a sip of the deliciously creamy shake.
“Oh, you were, were you?” Naylia said. “Is it time for me to receive another long winded dissertation on the subtleties of the harbor tides?”, she teased, ending with a wink.
Sophae blushed. “I-...I actually have a friend arriving in a few hours, and I was wondering if you’d join us this evening.”
“I’ll see what I can do, boat girl,” Naylia said with a flourish, and disappeared behind the kitchen doors separating the bar from the cooks.
Sophae sat, her mind racing. /I was hoping I’d catch you here today?/ she thought incredulously. What kind of idiot says something like that? Trying -and failing- to quiet her nerves-addled mind, Sophae ate her lunch as it arrived, paid (leaving a generous tip of course), and returned to her boat, berating herself all the while. Stripping the dress off, Sophae paused, and contemplated her breasts. Feeling a sudden rise of foolishness, Sophae briefly indulged in a fantasy where Naylia and herself - no. Unable to quell the burning sensation in her cheeks, Sophie practically dove into her skin, and returned to the water.
The early afternoon passed, with the usual laid back pace of the lazy surface otters, the frantic scurrying of the various schools of fish and eels, and the gentle swaying of the small but well developed kelp forest.
About a half hour before the scheduled arrival at port, Saephra picked up the sound of a boat’s props, which she assumed to be /The Windy Isle/. Diverting her attention to the sound, she swam towards it with some speed. Upon arriving, she poked her head out of the water to verify it was the /The Windy Isle/.
A crew member aboard tossed the remains of a mostly eaten sandwich at her. Saephra paused and gave the well meaning crew member as scornful a look as she could muster, being a seal. Saephra began her perimeter patrol of the boat, and watched as the sandwich sank to the bottom, and began to be picked apart by crabs.
The boat was about 15 minutes away from port by Saephra’s reckoning when the storm hit. The light streaming through the water from the surface dimmed, and the subtle reverberations of rain hitting the ocean began cascading through the depths. The storm continued to mount and build, and soon Saephra watched as the boat was carried up and down the increasingly tall waves. As Saephra peered at the boat’s hull, a strange pulsing light seemed to emulate from the bobbing vessel. Saephra swam closer, curious, right as the wave carrying the boat released it’s hold on the vessel, sending it downward, smacking into Saephra’s head. Everything went dark.