First Impressions aren't Everything | Jamilton | Mermaid/Siren/Whatev Au

Drawn-out Exposition (2)

If you told Thomas how his day would end, he would've personally signed you up as a patient in a mental institution.

It started off as a regular day in The Washington Marine Life Conservation Center, named after both the location, which is D.C., and the founder. Thomas has begun working here as an intern when he was fifteen, and since then he's been moving up in the ranks along with his education on the occupation field.

He is now one of their caretakers that specializes in the personal need and comfort of the most hassling creatures in the building. When a tooth pulling procedure had to be done with a lemon shark, Thomas was the first to volunteer to hold and comfort her during and after said procedure. When one of the octopi kept escaping in the middle of the night, Thomas stayed behind to observe him and figure out a solution that was best for the octopus.

The Virginian is quite used to people assuming his opinion on his job. His day is full of him ignoring all the pitying looks cast his way with the standard "poor kid"s, the "they could never pay me enough for his job"s, and, of course, the occasional "better him then me"s. If he doesn't hear one of these comments, he usually hears some sort of variant to it.

Despite the unpopularity of his job's nature, Thomas doesn't mind his work; in fact, he loves it. Sure, he has a few scars in miscellaneous locations on his body; he keeps several first aid kits in his office for a reason, but he enjoys helping his assignments. Although he isn't "in the field", the young twenty-three-year-old thrives in a hands-on environment, no matter how many times he's bitten or stung by an innocent, defending sea creature.

However, Mr. Jefferson thrives in this environment particularly due to his passion for sea life, even if it had originally stemmed from a silly childhood fanstasy. You see, what was once only a little adventure during a vacation trip where Thomas and his dearest friend, James Madison, had walked to the beach on a cloudy day.

What then proceeded was Thomas mistaking what could've only been a glare from the sun on the water's surface for something miraculous. When Thomas was younger, he swore he had saw something that had yet to be discovered. He even went as far as to fantasize that it was a mermaid of all things.

Nevertheless, the mere dream of being the founder of something extraordinary made him want to research as many known sea creatures as possible in hopes of finding, or confirming his discovery of, the odd thing he saw in the water. His search for the creature, however, came up fruitless. Instead, he found a new passion within the search.

That is what brought Thomas Jefferson to this point, filling out paperwork for a new angler fish observation report that had been sent yesterday. He may not be out there exploring but hey, at least he's making sure information is organized. There haven't been enough new patients for him to be specifically assigned to one as of late, but he still had to work.

"Hey, Thomas, you got a minute?" James piped up as he came into the doorway.

Thomas looked up from the pen his boredom convinced him to have a staring contest with. "Yeah, what's up?"

James rose an eyebrow at his previous antics, "I can see you're very busy, but I'm gonna have to ask you to take a break for food." He punctuated his statement by twirling his car keys for emphasis.

It didn't take much convincing to tear Thomas away from his work.

Passing through the hallways, some observations were brought to Thomas's attention; James was his only actual friend here.

For someone who is praised for his charisma, Thomas found himself short of companionship aside from his childhood best friend, Jemmy. Not that Thomas didn't mind James, mind you. The Virginian rather believes his life would be much, much sadder if he didn't have his practical brother by his side.

And yet, when Thomas passes through the WMLCC's halls, he can't help but feel jealousy over his employees little cliches. Specifically, his cousin's. Marie‑Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayette, or just plain Lafayette or Gilbert, who is his second cousin from France; they shared the same great-grandmother.

Lafayette had immigrated to America just over three years ago for his nineteenth birthday and applied for citizenship not too long afterwards. During those three years, he had gained his own "posse" ( a term said Frenchie learned recently and have refused to stop using it). He gained two of his friends almost instantly after he came to the States, and the three of them have been inseparable since. They even made up their own group name, the "Revolutionary Set". The fucking dorks.

Yet, Thomas would be lying if he said their group didn't make him even a teensey bit envious that they make friends instantaneously and he couldn't manage making more than one in the twenty three years he's been alive. It's rather pathetic, isn't it?

The magenta-clad man watched as the Rev' Set started to scream about something stupid, for the fifth fucking time today, and turned his attention elsewhere before he bummed himself out more. Isn't unauthorized self deprecation amazing?

Other than the adrenaline rush he gets from his exotic patients, Thomas couldn't help but start to feel as if he were going through the motions every day. It was always the same; go to work, either be bored the entire day or have an hour or two of excitement, see Jemmy, go home, repeat.

When they can back from their lunch break, Thomas and James immediately took notice to everyone's sporadic behavior. People were loudly gossiping in groups, individuals ran back and forth from one room to another with paperwork and assortments of supplies, the Rev' set was screaming again about who knows what, and to top this weird-ass sundae with a cherry, all the commotion seemed to be focused on one room.

"What in the Sam Hill is going on here?" James muttered under his breath to himself. Thomas was about to turn to someone to ask what was happening when he spotted a rather frantic looking George Washington.

"Mr. Jefferson! Please come inside, we think we might need your assistance." George exclaimed upon seeing the two Virginians.

Thomas and James shared a look of unadulterated apprehension before they decided to walk through the crowd towards Washington.

"Mr. Washington," Thomas started when the reached the man, "what's going on? What's with all the racket?"

Washington opened his mouth to reply before closing it with a look of hesitance. "I think you should see it- him for yourself. Y'see, we got a new specimen and...let's just say their 'specialty' is what's making everyone so excited."

At the mention of a new patient, a chill of adrenaline shook Thomas to his core before his boss's words truly settled. A new specimen that made everyone this excited? What on earth?...

With a step into the room, Thomas began to question, "Now, exactly what'd I...miss..."

He trailed off as his eyes landed on the tank in the Extensive Care room, and all of a sudden, years of fantasizing were brought to his mind and now everyone's reactions made sense.

"...holy shit.." he heard James gasp beside him.

Inside the tank was what looked like a mermaid. Or rather, a merman.

Holy shit, indeed.

Summary;
Our dearest ThomThom has a revaluation of his life. Aka: unnecessary and drawn-out exposition who's only purpose is to serve as a transition to the reveal of our Hammy Ham. Basically what you need to know; Thomas is 23, his only friend is James, he's jelly of the Rev Set and people who don't have social anxiety and can actually socially function in society, and A.Ham as entered the scene

Art Credit; Me

A/N; I got Jemmy's "what in the Sam Hill..." from Scout in the To Kill a Mockingbird movie. If you've seen it you know what I'm talking about. If you couldn't guess, this story is gonna be 47.3% snark and projection. So get ready for some sarcastic-self deprecating-ass comments from our fishy boy once he learns how to speak.