I've turned like sour milk.

Karin left the World of the Living wearing shorts and a tank top, barefoot having left her shoes on the bridge. Now she wears a white kimono, folded over like she's a corpse. She can't stop fiddling with the sleeves. She isn't used to their bell-shape. She isn't used to the fabric.

They trek through Ichibantai. The division is, more or less, what Karin expected it to be: antiquated. The floorboards squeal while Momo and Toushirou guide her towards the soutaichou's office. The building is a labyrinth, almost dreamlike. Evergreens cast shadows on the walls no matter where they are or how deep they venture. It's unnerving.

She knows this plane is but a graveyard. The overwhelming majority of the people here have died and carry that horror with them and it shows. Toushirou is now a century old. He still remembers the Russo-Japanese War and cholera. He got misty-eyed when she cracked a joke that he died on the can, and she's never felt as much of an awful person since, even after they made up. Naturally, the plane in which these people reside reflects the dawning of mortality, especially at night when the veil is thinnest. The knowledge of this doesn't keep the most primal parts of her from bristling.

They pause in front of a massive, carved door. Momo repacks her tobacco pipe, lights it with a spark from her snapping fingers. She takes a deep breath and knocks.

Shunsui is not what Karin expected. He opens the door, fixing a lively kimono over his shoulders.

"Hello. Thank you for meeting me at this time," he says. She smells sake on his breath. Her heart pounds. There's an odd emittance from him. Everyone has an aura. Toushirou's aura provokes the image of a dragon coiled around a snow-capped mountain. An icy exterior with a longing for stability found in authority. Momo's is a balefire in a meadow, or pushing around chicken in search of divination. Shunsui's aura is harder to peg. It's like a jack-in-the-box, if the puppet on the spring was a live snake. He is not the facade he dons.

"Soutaichou," Momo says. The three bow in unison. "Thank you for your accommodations. I understand it's after hours, but I presume you understand why I'd like to get this finished sooner rather than later."

Shunsui steps aside and they enter the office. The rice paper doors are open to a manicured stone garden. It's warm, despite it being late spring now, and she sees a kotatsu and a fire going in the pit. 

They take a seat around the kotatsu. Karin's legs ache the second she assumes seiza. The way Shunsui lounges makes her think they're being too formal, or that he loves seeing others prostrate.

"I'm sure you all understand these are most unusual circumstances," Shunsui says.

Momo smiles. "Is anything to do with the Kurosaki usual?"

Shunsui hums. He pours four glasses of sake. "Neither of you were present for Kuchiki's execution, but Kurosaki gave us the opportunity to save her from the execution and bring light to Sousuke's crimes. I can appreciate disruption."

He slides sake glasses over to them. Karin gingerly takes her cup and sips. It burns. This is far from her first taste of liquor, but it's strong shit. She's fuzzy the second it hits her belly. 

"Kurosaki-chan," Shunsui says. His cup touches his lips. "What were the circumstances of your death?"

Toushirou chimes, "She--"

Shunsui's hand lifts to stop him. "I want to hear it from her."

She's staring into the eyes of a nasty spirit while they drink. Her throat will be slit if her gaze averts. 

There's a dozen reasons why she drowned herself, each worse than the last, and increasingly private. She's never been good at politics. Even with the Gotei's multiple life debts to Ichigo, she's certain whatever she says will be held against her.

Karin gnaws on her lip and says, "This is all I've wanted."

"To die?" Shunsui says.

"No. To become a shinigami."

He chuckles. "But a short eighty years, and I'm sure you would've accomplished it."

"Eighty years of bumping into things isn't a life," she argues. "I'm sure you've seen my work, Soutaichou. It's all I want."

"Being a shinigami isn't all about exorcism," he says.

"I know. Toushi-- Hitsugaya-taichou is secretive, but he tells me there's a lot of paperwork no matter where you go."

"You've wanted this for a short... what? Five? Six years?" You understand we live forever unless we're killed or starve, right? Eons of fighting. Of dreary paperwork. Of the world ending. Over and over again."

Karin's heart pounds. She wishes it was dread. Instead, it's the thrill of a roller coaster. Of a promise. Of fresh love.

"May I ask a question, Soutaichou?" Karin says. He waves as permission. "In your years as a shinigami, have you been unfulfilled?" Shunsui is quiet. "My issue isn't as simple as disliking school. Even when my grades were okay, I'd look around what I could do with those skills, and all of it just seemed like a chore. Nursing was fulfilling, but I never had the bedside manner for it. The times I've battled hollows, and the times I've worked with your officers, have been the only times my skin has fit right.

Karin slides her cup onto the tabletop. "You ask why I killed myself. I couldn't go on, day after day, in skin that fit wrong."

"You're so much like your brother." Shunsui sips. "You've always done what's right for you."

Karin frowns. "Is that--"

Toushirou interrupts with, "That isn't an inherently bad quality, Soutaichou. Ichigo Kurosaki and his companions took out over half of our biggest threats for the Winter War during their excursion to Hueco Mundo. I'm confident our losses would've significantly increased if we faced the full force of Aizen's Court." He sips. "She has just as much to offer, and without Kurosaki's shortcomings."

Shunsui's gaze drinks her in. "Then what are your shortcomings, dear?"

Karin swallows. She isn't sure what else to do other than tell the truth. "I'm not always good at listening to authority. I have a temper as well," she replies.

"A temper?" Shunsui reiterates.

Momo scoffs. A cloud of tobacco billows around her face, and she says, while ashing her pipe into a ceramic tray, "All due respect, Soutaichou, our own have far more dangerous tempers. Is it not Mayuri Kurotsuchi-taichou who beat his lieutenant and daughter up until her demise during the Wandenreich invasion?"

"Kurotsuchi-taichou's usefulness is undisputed."

"That's exactly what I mean. Whatever shortcomings Karin has are a fraction of what we have in our uppermost echelon presently. You yourself acknowledge that acting against authority isn't inherently bad. Was it not you and the late Ukitake-taichou who rebelled against Central Forty-Six and your predecessor's orders for Rukia's execution? Do our present captains not have destructive tempers? Were we not founded on slaughter?"

Shunsui taps his cup with his finger. "I see now why you are so special to Nanao."

"I was given lucidity once Sousuke's influence was erased. She values that."

Shunsui leans back on his palm. "My niece has lived a thousand years and accrued wisdom of the ages for it. You have been the only one to share that, and at an infinitesimal age. Your input is one of the few I can take at face value."

There's a wave of indignity from Toushirou that Karin chooses to ignore for now. He's always butthurt when people aren't falling over his prodigal skills.

Shunsui stands and they stand with him. He circles the kotatsu and meets Karin. "It would be an honor to have you as our own, Kurosaki-chan. Once the exams open, you'll take an aptitude test, and your education at Shin'oureijutsuin will begin.

Karin smiles and bows. She can't believe this shit worked. "Karin is fine, Soutaichou. Thank you."

Shunsui bows, and they bow afterward. "Best of luck to you all. Good night."

Karin follows Momo and Toushirou into the night. He grabs her hand. She's fuzzy from booze, but optimistic.

"Well, that went spectacularly," Momo sighs. She takes a moment to puff from her pipe. "Now that that's done, let's go make merriment. Supper should be ready, don't you think?"

Toushirou sighs. "I'm just glad Muguruma's cooking skills are rubbing off on Hisagi."

"He's always been a good cook, you're just spoiled by Obaa-san's cooking."

"Yeah, yeah..."

Karin's heard a fair amount of Momo's husbands from Toushirou. He doesn't seem to get along with them, but tells her their relationship was more strained a few years ago, before the wedding. She's having trouble recalling any of their names, but knows one of them is a close friend of both Ichigo and Rukia, which is bad news for Karin. Ichigo's friends always seem to take his side. They always seem content squashing her under his heel.

Where else can she go, though? She isn't ready to move in with Toushirou so soon. As much as she loves him, she's filled with foulness. She isn't sure he can survive much more of her insanity. Of her self-destruction. God knows killing herself isn't the end of it. Wounds still fester within her.

Momo and her husbands reside in a classical double-decker with a garden and a spacious engawa. She hears ducks nearby and there are potent, joyous waves from within, wafting over her with the sound of laughter. It makes her chest ache.

Momo opens the door to a long entryway where their sandals are shed. "Toushirou, go ahead and meet the party. I'm going to get Karin out of those clothes."

"Alright. See you in a minute," Toushirou says to Momo. He turns to Karin and kisses her cheek. Karin smiles while fiddling with her sleeves. "You too."

Momo takes her past a remarkably open and modern living area, up a set of stairs, through a hallway lit by magical lights, and into a bedroom. She opens a closet brimming with bedding and boxes, and pries one from the neat pile, briefly opening it, and frowns. "Ugh, I might have to loan you something of Shuuhei's. You're much... flesh-ier than I am."

That's one way of putting it. Karin isn't tall. Taller than Momo, but it isn't terribly uncommon for anyone to be taller than Momo. The issue is she's as endowed as an hourglass. Her breasts are large, her hips are wide, and her arms and legs are as thick as the haunches of a horse. This has been a deliberate effort, of course. Karin loves nothing more than to be the image of power. But it does spell difficulty when she needs to borrow clothes from others. When Jinta and Ururu would take her home, each of them covered in the blood of hollows, the only one she could dream of fitting into was Tessai's drawstring pajamas while her clothes were in the wash.

Momo does find a suitable kimono. It's sleeveless and slate blue. Momo removes it from the box in search of an obi, and scoffs when she doesn't find one. "Ugh, I'm sorry. My husband wears... unique accessories at home. Let me grab an obi from my uniform to affix it, dear."

Karin pulls apart the obi holding the kyoukatabira she wears, sheds the rest she wears, and dresses in a loin cloth and the yukata. Momo finds a belt to shut it. It's clear these clothes were made for someone with a much flatter chest than her own. In order to keep the hem even, Karin keeps the collar open. She wishes she had tape to prevent a wardrobe malfunction. But ultimately it is workable.

Momo smooths the fabric over Karin's shoulders. "We'll get you some clothes soon, dear. This will have to do tonight, though," Momo says. "Are you okay to go downstairs now?"

"Better now than never."

They descend the stairs and Karin is taken to a large dining area brimming with jovial atmosphere. She hears laughter and smells hot food. The rice doors are open to a garden with a pond and something like four ducks. There are so many people here. At least a dozen. Karin recognizes Rangiku, and there's a redhead built like a brickhouse that Karin is certain she's seen around Karakura. He's likely Ichigo's friend.

Upon seeing Momo and Karin, the attendees lift their glasses and shout, "Banzai!"

Momo smiles and they take their seats. "This is a spectacular turnout for a last minute gathering," Momo says. Karin crosses her legs on the floor. "Thank you all for coming. You're our dearest friends, and I hope that our ward will find friendship among you all."

Karin bows from her seated position. "Thank you all for having me."

Rangiku laughs and waves her hand dismissively. "Oh, you're too formal! This is a party, isn't it?" 

Toushirou reaches over with a cigarette. She takes one in her lips and takes a drag once he lights it. A scrawny blond man, simply swimming in a shinigami uniform, shovels various dishes and two drumsticks from a fat turkey onto her plate. Karin thanks him, noting the gold wedding band against his gray skin. His reiatsu is a weird piecemeal of misery and something like four others. It's weird. Karin is curious, but doesn't have the opportunity to ask about it when Rangiku asks, 

"Well, Karin-chan, how are you feeling? Death treating you well?"

Karin isn't sure whether or not Rangiku knows that Karin committed suicide. She chooses not to broach the subject. "In truth, it's a lot to take in all at once. I'm fortunate to have Toushirou and Momo as guides."

"That you are," another blond man chimes. He walks over, shooing Toushirou to sit behind her, and sticks his hand out. "Shinji Hirako, captain of gobantai. Pleasure to meet you."

Karin delicately shakes his hand. "Likewise."

"So, we got a Kurosaki here permanently. What plans do you have?" Shinji asks.

"I imagine similar goals you had as a cadet. I'm here to become a shinigami."

"Yes, but why? What are you looking to get out of this?"

"Mah, Shinji, leave the poor thing alone," a bespectacled woman says. "It's her first night here. At least let her eat."

Karin picks up a drumstick as Momo giggles. Shinji sticks out his tongue at her. "Ever an ally, Yadomaru-taichou."

"You live with him long enough and learn to to equip some balls." The woman slides over. "I'm Lisa Yadomaru, captain of hachibantai... ignore Shinji's curiosity, he's always looking to get something."

Karin hums while she chews chicken. It's practically melting in her mouth. "It's a reasonable question. Soutaichou wanted to know the same."

"A reasonable question with more appropriate timing," Lisa says. Karin sees Toushirou and Shinji wrestling for the seat next to Karin in her peripheral. "Why don't you tell us about yourself first?"

She shrugs. "There isn't much to know about me. I hunt hollows. I used to play soccer. Toushirou and I have been dating awhile." The rest of it is too painful to talk about right now. Later. If ever.

Lisa chuckles. "Yeah, there's nothing quite like the field. It's a pity I must spend most of my time behind a desk."

"Oh, I understand my time will likely be spent the same way."

"Well, thankfully, this place is... a bit of a behavioral sink. There's a lot of us, there isn't always a lot to do, and so you'll have plenty of debauchery to engage in." Lisa sips sake. "Are you queer, Karin?"

Karin blinks. "That's quite a segueway."

"I promise it's related," Lisa says while Momo giggles.

"Well... yes. I'm a woman. I'm not particularly picky about my partners, so long as, um... well, so long as I'm topping if that makes sense." Karin smiles bashfully. She hasn't really talked about her sexuality with anyone but Jinta, Toushirou, and Ururu. It feels different. "I like more effeminate people, though."

Lisa says, "Ugh, yeah, those femmes have me by the belt at all times. Anyway: conservatism is prominent here, but most of us here are queer in some facet."

Toushirou finally wins back his seat. "Yeah, I've noticed the same. I mean, wasn't it Hirako and Outoribashi who married first of... er, for lack of a better word, the group?"

"Yes. Point being, you'll have your fill of whatever your poison may be. And if you get into my division, there's plenty to go around," Lisa says, winking.

Rangiku chuckles. "Oh, stop trying to play matchmaker for Yayahara-chan. She does just fine on her own," Momo says.

"None of you guys are any fun," Lisa whines.

Karin asks, "Who else is here?"

"Oh, dear, there's many," Momo says. "Here we go. You've met Rangiku-san, Shinji Hirako-taichou, and Lisa Yadomaru-taichou--"

"Yadomaru-san is fine," Lisa says. Karin nods.

"My spouses are Renji, Shuuhei, and Izuru," Momo says, pointing each of them out. Renji and Izuru, Izuru being the one who served her food earlier and Renji being the redhead she recognizes, are sitting with a carafe and another very large man that Karin is fairly cerain is either yakuza or bousouzoku judging by his cartoonishly large pompadour. Shuuhei is fitting over a pork bun with a lithe, green-haired woman. "The man with Renji and Izuru is Tetsuzaemon Iba-taichou. He's a dear friend of ours." Rangiku snorts and Momo glares at her. Karin's eyebrow cocks but she doesn't have further time to inquire. "Shuuhei is sitting with his co-lieutenant Mashiro Kuna. Their captain is the short, white-haired man sitting next to them, Kensei Muguruma-taichou. At the end of the table are Roujuurou Outoribashi-taichou, Izuru's captain, and Nanao Ise, my longtime friend, Rangiku's wife, and the Soutaichou's lieutenant."

The sheer amount of people here is a little overwhelming, and it's worse feeling what all of them feel. The longer she stays here, drinking in the infectious jubilation, the more she wishes she was alone. She only just suffered the grief of a couple dozen people; the ire of Ichigo and Yuzu, the confliction of her best friends. One would expect this feast would be a welcome departure from the last couple of days but it's all too much. Karin would rather have some time to process and to wallow.

The likelihood of her retreat is a different issue. Momo and her spouses were kind enough to offer their home as lodging. It would be incredibly rude to snub their efforts with her escape.

Roujuurou makes his way over, sitting behind Karin. She scoots herself around and bows to him.

"Hello and welcome to the Seireitei, Kurosaki-san," he says.

"Karin is fine," she replies. Roujuurou smiles.

"Your brother was our ally, and we, the Vizard, owe him. We owe you by extension," Roujuurou explains. Karin tries to brush off her brother's mention. "I am captain of sanbantai. Anything you need, I'll do what I can to provide. I know the same can be said for my husband Shinji."

Karin wants to say she doesn't want her brother's debts. Instead, she asks, "Vizard?"

He hums. Lisa says, "We're kind of like a hybrid of shinigami and hollow. We're not arrancar. Arrancar are... um... sourced from hollows. We were, and are, shinigami with hollows inside of us. Your brother is the same way."

"Well, it's more complicated than that according to Urahara, but yes," Roujuurou says.

"You know Urahara and Tsukabishi?" Karin asks.

"We were exiled with them after Aizen's experiment on us failed," Lisa explains.

"Well, yes, but it's more accurate to say they sacrificed their comfort to save us," Roujuurou says. "We would've been executed, or worse, if they hadn't ran with us."

Karin hums. "They are especially popular."

"More like infamous," Toushirou quips.

Roujuurou stands. "It was good meeting you, Karin. Take care. Again, my offer is indefinite. Whatever you made need."

Karin bows as he leaves. Toushirou squeezes her thigh, and she shoos him off. He leaks hurt.

"I'm going to fetch my husbands so they can introduce themselves as well," Momo says, standing. "Toushirou, could you fetch more sake?"

"Um, yeah, sure," he says.

Karin swigs a drink in her moment of privacy before standing to meet Momo's spouses Izuru, Renji, and Shuuhei. They're all much taller than she, even Izuru, who is simply swimming in his uniform.

"Karin, these are Izuru, Renji, and Shuuhei," Momo says. Renji nods to her.

"Hi," Karin says. She bow politely. "Thank you for having me."

"Welcome, Kurosaki," Renji says. He claps her on the arm and she winces. His slap doesn't sting as much as the name.

"Karin is fine," she says.

"Y'know, I didn't recognize you at first," Renji says, "you've grown up a lot."

"Yeah," she agrees.

"More importantly, what was it like living with Ichigo Kurosaki?" Shuuhei asks.

Momo says, "Let's leave those questions for a later time." Momo rubs Karin's back. "Do you have any questions for them, Karin-chan?"

Karin glances between them, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. She wants to ask why Izuru is comprised of something like four different reiatsu, ask how well Renji knows Ichigo, why Shuuhei is interested in her brother, but it all locks up in her throat. It embarrasses her. Normally, Karin is assertive and fearless, but she's tired now. Everything feels like a damn landmine.

"Naw," she says, "I think we'll get to know each other along the way."

Karin sits through another two hours of questions she doesn't have answers to, conversational topics of varying interest, and exorbitant alcohol consumption. By the point in which party-goers are peetering out, she's seeing triple and wobbling.

At least she's numb.

She does have the wherewithal to help with cleanup.

She wrings out a rag in the sink. Momo squawks, "It's your special night! It's like your birthday. Birthday girls don't do the cleaning!"

Izuru snorts. "You're always cleaning up after your birthday," he says. Momo's glare could very well have cut him, judging by how quickly he escapes the kitchen.

Karin unrolls the rag. "I's fine," she slurs, "leas' I shoul'do."

Momo sighs. "Karin-chan, I'm grateful for your help, but you need to lay down."

"Naw," she insists, brushing past Momo and tripping on her foot. She catches herself in the doorframe. Thankfully, she doesn't have the means for shame just yet. She'll leave it for the morning.

Momo sighs. "I'll have Toushirou take you to your room. Shuuhei had it made earlier today."

Karin hums. She looks at her hand and the rag's gone. Momo has it flung over her shoulder and it occurs to her just how sloshed she is. 

"Yeah, okay," Karin replies.

Momo whistles and Toushirou makes his way down the hall with an armful of dishes. Momo takes them, kisses his head, and Toushirou wraps Karin in a hug. He kisses her. It twists a knife in her chest she's only now aware of.

It's a chore getting upstairs. He has to drag her up because her feet aren't working, and it brings tears to Karin's eyes. Embarrassment, namely. 

She doesn't know if she can do this with him anymore. This isn't any different than the times he's held her in the shower while rinsing off the blood from her wrists.

She's laid on her futon, hugs his shoulders, and kisses him. His thumb pets her cheek.

Karin sniffs. "Toushirou, I know you can't... I know you can't feel others the way I do, but I'm in a lot of pain now." She wipes her tears away. "I don't know that I can do this now."

Dread washes over him. It's almost enough to make Karin hurl. "What?"

"I think a big piece of me broke when I jumped. All I feel is pain and resentment and... and I think to every time you rushed to my side when I couldn't take it anymore, when I'd gore myself, and I'd feel your pain."

"I don't know what you're trying to say." His voice is shaking.

Karin squeezes her eyes shut. Her tears roll off her temple and into her hair. "I can't do this to you anymore."

He licks his lips. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Karin sobs. She holds him and lays their heads together. "Can you wait for me?"

He sobs. "I don't understand what I did to... to prompt this."

"You're not listening," she says, "I broke, Toushirou, and you've mopped up after me for so long. I can feel when you're in pain. I can't do that to you over and over again when this is supposed to fix me."

He sits back on his legs and runs his hands down his face. Karin props herself on her elbows. There's four of him, coalescing into an image of confusion and hurt, before separating into six spinning, blurry iterations, blurry in her watery eyes. 

Toushirou sighs and says, "You've... you've been everything to me for years."

"This is supposed to fix me." She's still in pieces now.

His chest heaves while he licks his lips and pushes his fingers through his hair. "You're drunk." He stands. "Good night, Karin."

He leaves and rips her heart out with him, connective tissue and arteries and all.

Karin muffles herself as she sobs. Rolling onto the bedroll, snot blows onto her hand while she screams into her skin.

She knows better than most that shit gets worse before it gets better. The anguish of it isn't anything she'll get used to.

Eau de Vie Poire

Momo's complaints become fog in the wintry air. "Lord," she says, "it's bitter today! Ugh, if spring doesn't spare us this torment...."

"You're all pink," he teases while elbowing her ribs. "Frostbite will soon take your nose."

"What? Lord, you're so mean," she hisses. "At least I don't have some freakish tolerance for this weather! Your eyelashes have frosted and you're fine with a light coat!"

He deserved that.

But he doesn't have any acerbity left inside of him. Sousuke took his sister from him for so long, destroyed reality, and replaced it with his mechanizations. It drove Momo mad for a few months. Their relationship wasn't repaired for years. But they're together again, brother and sister. It's all he wants now.

She stops outside of the Senkaimon and hugs him. "I love you, Toushirou, my brother," she says while cupping his cheeks. "I do hope you enjoy your vacation."

Toushirou hugs her. "I'll miss you, Onee. I hope you and your husband enjoy New Year's."

"We will. I'll see you next year."

"Yeah, see you next year."

Banner I drew for this year's HitsuKarin Gift Exchange!

Momo isn't having a good night!

A few sketches I've done over the last few months, ft OCs I've been roleplaying with!

I'll be the villain you blame.

"What do you mean you won't make dinner?"

It's not a question, but a demand for a damn good answer. Momo is elbow-deep in a wash basin bubbling with soap and waterlogged shitagi. Sweat pours down her sides from her pits.

"I have shit to do," he replies.

Her teeth grind. "And I don't?"

"You're washing laundry."

Thank you, Captain Obvious, and here she thought her hands were cramping from doing nothing.

"These stains are going to take hours getting out," she says, "so unless you want dingy laundry or dinner late, I need you to make us some food."

"I'm going to an Association meeting. I'll be eating there."

Momo's seen the Shinigami Men's Association. It's an excuse for officers to goof off.

"Okay. And what am I going to do for food after washing the laundry? It's going to be late when you finish."

Sousuke rolls his eyes. He doesn't even shut the door behind him when he fucks off.

It's times like these Momo wants to take his skin and put it through a wash cycle while he cries for help from their bed. See how he likes it.

Momo ought to, at least, lock the door behind him. He'll have to sleep on the engawa and explain to a passerby why that it. Briefly, it makes her smile thinking of it. My wife locked me out because I'm a piece of shit who dicks around while she scrubs my house clean. What a bitch, right?

It's pipe dreams. Even if someone catches him sleeping on the engawa, he'll make her look like a hysterical cunt.

Commission for @blloodhands! Ty Jo.

$5 emergency commissions open! IM or email rinusagitora@gmail for more info.

Banner for HKW 2023, w/out the text.

Commissions are open!

Author and captain of manslaughter and bloodshed, tells all things past and to come, gains the minds and love of friends and foes causing love among them if desired, incites homicides and can make a man invisible.

Commissions are open! 

Y’all pls read Speremint’s Brimstone & Roses it’s so good omg

The changing of the tides.

Gargantuan serpents have ruled the ocean for as long as life has made their home in its waters. Generations pass and they remain until conquest claims them and recycles their flesh as food and bones as shelter and tools for the masses.

The natural order is venerated as a result. Birth, life, reproduction, death, consumption. All things outside the cycle, that which is unnatural, are calamitous and loathsome. Ruins, masses of hollow and angular planes dotting the ocean bottom, are omens of devastation. Alien artifacts found are destroyed by magicians or given a wide berth so they do not pollute the order worshipped by ocean-dwellers.

The end is foretold by the disappearance of the sea serpents, where nothing is behind to repurpose, and there are no rulers to command the denizens of the seas.

haha, nice