The drift
jellykind
The family, drifting. A bell where the head was, the family face on it, and a fall of rainbow tentacles under it — no legs, no arms, nothing worn and nothing held, the same bargain merkind and fishkind make and still kin for it. The thread that keeps it family is the soft frill at the bell's sides, where the ear-pads sit on the humanoid head. Eight colourways are the range; five of them have names.
Sky jelly — the little drifter
Nim
The smallest of the drift, and the least troubled by it. Nim goes where the current goes and calls it a plan; the sea has not let it down yet.
Teal jelly — the deep calm one
Marlo
The eldest and the slowest, which the others take for wisdom and Marlo does not correct. One slow pulse, then the next, in no hurry to arrive.
Coral jelly — the warm one
Coralie
Lives in the shallows, always an inch nearer the light than the rest. Bright and bold and reaching — as if reaching were a thing you could decide to stop.
Lavender jelly — the night-drifter
Lune
Comes into its own after dark, when a faint light wakes in the bell and Lune drifts half-asleep through its own glow. Dreaming, mostly, and glad of it.
Butter jelly — the sunlit one
Sunny
The youngest, and the most astonished by the ordinary. To Sunny everything is new and nearly all of it is wonderful — a whole day of it, and tiring for no one but Sunny.
The range
Eight colourways
The whole spread of the mood-board, each bell drawn straight from the form with the same calm face and the same fall of tentacles — so what changes down the row is only the colour, which is the whole point of a jelly.
Cream
Sky
Teal
Coral
Lavender
Butter
Blush
Midnight
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