Flashback Fresh Air

[Sisquoc]

OOCI'll make this pretty soon. For now, here's the words.

Plink.

The sound of the copper coin hitting the lining of his case was music to Versil’s ears. It was sweeter music, in fact, than the notes his fiddle was crowing. At the sound of the coin, his bow halted in surprise, catching itself in the strings of the instrument.

”Thank you, ma’am.” He offered, but by the time he had spoken the donor was stumbling off, lost in a flurry of Akvatari wings, thick Svefra hair, and the wind that blended them together. The boy shook his head slowly, wondering what had caused the woman to tip him- for it certainly was not his quality music.

Whatever the reason for it, Versil was thankful. Every coin was one step closer to buying himself a drink to commemorate his birthday, and one step closer to being able to go home to the warmth of a fire. So, in the hopes of finding more coppers, Versil took to playing again.

Despite the chilled wind around him and the lack of coin in his open case, Versil was mostly satisfied with his fluctuating audience and the bow at his fingertips. He imagined that he could feel Rhaus smile when a song played itself well, and that thought alone made Versil smile in turn. He felt as though, at the very least, his God accepted him; it didn’t matter that he had no friends to celebrate his birthday with. He would celebrate with Rhaus, and with his own music.

In that mind, Versil slapped the tip of his tail against the ground gently on each downbeat, keeping count of the beats inside his head. One two three, one two three…
His body swayed a bit as he played, held slightly aloft by sprawling silver wings caught in the sea breeze. His lips moved silently as he played. He was not yet brave enough to sing for an audience, but he could not help but let the words he knew brush past his lips on each breath.

The words described a young boy who fell in love with a sailor. It expressed his bittersweet happiness, knowing he had found someone he enjoyed, and still holding against him the knowledge that he would not see her again once she left the port. The words were generally morose, but the notes that he played were harmonious, and brought to mind sweet memories. Of course, as he was not singing, only those who knew the song by heart would know the truly sullen meaning. Passerby would only hear the chords sing.

The sharp air, the feeling of the bow and strings under his fingers, and the natural music of the docks as the people passed by was home to Versil. It was simple, and he loved it.

[Naia Whitewater]

Common Speech | Thoughts | Fratava Speech | oocSorry! The lead up to Christmas got a little crazy for me! I hope you don’t mind, I assumed that Versil was near the Hospitality House. And this is significantly longer than I meant it to be.

The pod had been docked in Abura for a couple of weeks, now, and already had carried out two rather spectacular parties - the first was a celebration of the first ‘near’ completion of the new trading leg that Lia Mila had proposed some seasons prior, Abura slated to be the last stop before the return North. Outside of the Suvan Sea, the Whitewater Pod, and sister vessels alike, often became more structured and more intentional in their actions than their inland sea siblings. Should they find themselves out at sea and in strife, the closest fellow pod could be days away, and thus arose set patterns ‘trade routes’ among many pods, though a select few still travelled wherever Zulrav lead them. The second party, one that took place on an afternoon where they really ought to have been doing work, was the celebration of Naia's own birthday, and it seemed they were gearing up for a third any day now, the likely excuse for such an event being the Ice Breaker’s hulls and finally emptied and prepped for trade and the inevitable reloading of unsold and bought goods.

It should have only taken a single week to reach such a point, as opposed to the proven few, but the sun was warm and the crew were lethargic and spiteful, and did not give in to the allowance of the run of the mill humans to touch their goods without close supervision and impediment, far more the pod’s constant love of riling land dwellers than genuine distrust, though suspicion was still high. After all, the goods they carried included finery from as far as Aventhal, so finely kept in condition that those who tended to the maintenance of goods insisted they were the only ones permitted to touch them, and they were indeed too valuable to trade to be left. Lia Mila had betted on the Akvatari’s rumoured love of the arts in the purchasing of expensive Vantha carvings and music sheets, and it seemed that it would be soon that she would see if such a gamble was worth the trouble. Of course, the fact that they left the docks for little reason more than to scout and explore the coastline did not help the crawl that was unloading, though it was never good to keep the pod docked for too long at a time.

“Oi” her Svefra brother’s voice rough through the ocean air, battling the sounds of breaking waves and the white noise of the docks below, though it was perhaps more so the language than the voice itself that had the short beckoning slice through her. “Oi, what?” Her common was better than her Fratava, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that such a fact was indeed not a good thing. Lia Mila insisted, however, that it was something that could be used to the advantage, for the girl’s accent wasn’t as rough as any other on board, and the more trade savvy of the crew felt that sometimes it was much more effective to negotiate trade in the other’s language, and thus she received some minor encouragement and additional tasks to her crew duties. Almost everyone on board spoke at least broken common with their fluent traders speak, Naia’s blood father’s strange insistence was the only reason she was the only who was flipped in such a regard.

“Lia wants you in the captain’s quarters,” A chill ran down her spine, but the plucky teen went forward none the less, and as quickly as the command was given, Naia was already inside the snug cabin that was Mila’s keep, as she so proudly called it. The room was filled with all manner of ordinary, boring little things, with compasses both broken and new, maps and charters, star charts and instruments strewn upon tabletop and counter, the spice of the Lia’s favoured rum seeped into all, though no Mila in sight.

The Svefra stayed for what she supposed was a dozen chimes, eyeing off a collection of old maps sitting upon a recently cleared patch of wooden table, and a small bag of what seemed to be coins, and was soon enough rummaging through the parchments until she’d found one that was apparently of the Isle of Abura, though more specifically the coastlands than the city itself. Considerations of taking the map were made and argued, the Svefra feeling the frayed and warn seam, and inspecting the decade old wine stains as she considered the value of having the item on hand as she went about her private walkabouts. She hadn’t had the chance to properly explore yet, though she'd heard from many that it was impossible due to the environment. The hinge of the door clicked open, and the girl grabbed the item by reflex. What was owned by one, was owned by all. The map was now in Naia’s hand, and it was hers to use.

…

Worry had been proven for naught, and the Svefra bounced towards along the wooden pier with liquid bliss, loose blouse and light skirts hiked up to her knees as she picked and darted about the small crowds, long tangle of loose brown curls trailing behind her, skyward blue eyes and sun touched skin more than enough to tell all who would give he enough consideration to be of Svefra blood, though her gnosis was too covered for any to make the final check. Despite the small victory of leaving the Lia’s presence with not only the map and some number of coin in toe (silver, was it? How much did the people value it, again? Was it enough to buy food, or drink? Both? And what of the gold and copper?), but also without laborious task or scolding, it turning out that Lia Mila quite simply needed a letter written, and it was well within Naia’s skill to do so.

The woman’s fixation of the towers and spires above were soon cut by the sounds of what she assumed to be a violin and/or busker, before attempting to let the music become part of the white noise and chatter, a frown taking to her face in displeasure as she concluded that she likely wouldn’t shake the playing until she saw its source, and damned her own distracted curiosity. Even surrounded by all manner of races, and dodging tail and wing alike, the prospect that the player could perhaps be Akvatari drew her intrigue. “Where, where,” she hummed, considerable effort made to the speaking of Fratava, the words spilling awkwardly from her mouth, before she spied who she assumed to be the players – a young Akvatari man - in question, and picked her way towards him.

She’d heard better players in the middle of the Northern Oceans, and heard the glory that was a Vantha spin their tales, seen the Konti in their awe, but to see such a creature as an Akvatari play would be a sight in itself to behold, and Svefra held her own in the rushing crowd as she kept herself from staring at the player too long. She found herself in the odd position of finding his face quite handsome, however suspicious of their race, her gaze then slipping from his face, to his torso, to the gentle slap of his tail, before flitting between the silent movement of lips and the beating of his tail once more. Memories made themselves known in a flash within her mind, one of the younger boys earning a slap the morning a week prior for staring at someone’s tail for too long, and in a haze she was determined she wouldn’t share the same fate.

Clink.

The soft sound was almost missed, and through her washed a wave of confusion, searching face and ground alike before she realised the simplicity of the situation. Money. He’d received money. That was how buskers worked, she reminded herself.

She dropped her attention to her own coin purse, and thumbed one of the four silver and half dozen copper that Mila had thrown to her, surprised to see two gold miza amongst the mix. Would the loss of one silver be so much trouble? The girl was no trader, and did not care for the value that land races put upon the lumps of metal, but became increasingly more concerned for weight they carried. Two, should she put two in player’s case? Or was one plenty? Or was it copper that should be dealt with? Or the gold, even? If he were Svefra, he’d receive a cask of rum or a ring off her finger, perhaps a song sung or story told to him in return. Placing universal value in coin made little sense when one man might value a finely made instrument as much as another a strong liqueur.

What shortly followed may have been laughable were the girl not so composed, the Svefra sliding and weaving between man and woman before pausing before the man’s case, briefly in awe of the jarring size difference before the thin boned Svefra and the broader set of the Akvatari, before setting her gaze to assess what coins had already been dropped, and deciding that a single silver would fit the conformity quite well enough. Lhex had different plans, for before she moved to make the drop, a child slid in front of her and gave two silver coins before scurrying off, the Svefra then slammed back to square one, forgetting to consider that perhaps some, or everyone, had given more coin than one to the man. She was there, she had to give something, Tanroa waited for none, though it took one of her Svefra brothers giving her a playful shoulder barge as he walked by to result in action. “Laviku, I don’t know,” the words were dramatic, and her expression even more so, a defeated sigh and shake of her head as she then took three silver from the coin bag, and both gold, and then upending the remaining silver and six copper pieces remaining. Satisfaction was not found after the chime of falling pieces ended, however, and Naia soon dropped a further gold miza, eyeing the man as she did so, quite obviously seeking approval.

'Was that too much? Gods, that was probably too much. I really ought to learn the value of coin.' All she wanted was so show a little appreciation, for Laviku's sake.