Sunday 12 February 2012

Marzipan 2: II-7

I had great plans for this, but as usual they went nowhere. Sel remonstrations are as present in the original typescript. The Well of poison was the name of the ship that they were going to sail up from the depths.

The Well of Poison

The five sailors looked far worse than the captain did, but that was because their deaths had been more violent. They displayed limbs that had been chewed up and cracked, and crushed ribs under loose-hanging strips of flesh. Some had stomachs that had been eaten out, others trailed gore like pendants of favour, and one even had had his skull crushed by gigantic jaws so that he saw with only a single eye.
The captain took them across the seabed, countless leagues of shifting scenery filled with life. Shoals pulsed and startled when they drew near, larger fish took an interest in them in great passing sweeps, but nothing dwelled, for they were protected; a troop of sacred lepers, untouchable out of fear and respect. At times they even thought that they could make out a great bulk in the gloom ahead or to the side of them, but it was always gone as soon as they were aware of it, leaving only a faint pressure shadow in the vast currents that surrounded them.
description of mussel shore (why can’t I fucking do this already?)

The pain was intense, even to the dead. The salt tore at their bloodless flesh and bathed them with agony until there was nothing left of them that wasn’t bone or metal. They continued, though, because they had to. The ship must sail again, though it was an ill-named craft who’s previous had been distinguished by notoriety.

Stuff about the background of the ship?

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