Completed Looking Up From Underneath (Jorin Ertihan)

[Rinya]

Day 61, Season Summer, 513 AV Rinya had known of the underwater aquarium for quite some time. The only problem she had was gathering up the courage to actually step foot into the place. Having always hunted fish, she never really took the time to admire their beauty. When she lived in Sylira, she never had the time to appreciate such things. With nothing but a job to keep her company as of late, and the occasional visit from Dust, Rinya was still enjoying the freedom of exploring the city. With summer moving so quickly already, Rinya wasn’t sure how long she’d actually get to enjoy exploring. If there was one thing she was never fond of, it was winter. And summer never seemed nearly as long as winter… So after a long day of fishing in the bay, Rinya finally bathed and dressed in her white shirt and black trousers, and pulled two braids from her bangs to wrap around the back to keep it from falling into her eyes. For a moment, the thought crossed her mind that she really needed to get a second set of clothing—maybe even a dress. She had never owned a dress, and Rinya knew that there were upcoming festivals that she would certainly feel more comfortable if she dressed more as a woman than the traveling bowman she often felt like. With the sight of the sun closing in on the horizon, Rinya knew this would be a perfect time to visit the aquarium. The sunset would soon be lighting up the bay waters with tints of color ranging from peaches to more subtle purple tones. It was easily one of her favorite times of day. But she wanted plenty of time to observe the ground tanks, before heading into the tunnels beneath Plunge Pool bay. Taking a deep breath, she passed beneath the entrance of the aquarium, before letting herself be drawn to the first familiar sight in one of the smaller more simple tanks; a school of hearty fish that she recognized from fishing the bay itself. Smiling softly, Rinya approached the tank, watching the small silvery fish flit from one side to the other as a group that almost seemed to think as one. When one fish moved left, it seemed the whole school of fish read its mind and moved with it. Biting her bottom lip gently, she rested her hand against the tank. She could hear people bustling around her, but it all sounded distant and dream like. With only one tank, she suddenly felt so much more connected to the world. She fished these creatures for one simple reason, for food—to look at them this way, she never considered that maybe she could find a comfortable peace among them as well.

[Jorin Ertihan]

An artist is like a fire, Jorin's mother once said. He requires fuel, or he will wither, and die. Fuel for a fire was wood. Fuel for an artist was inspiration. One did not find inspiration moping in one's room. And so Jorin took to his feet, seeking that most elusive of things: the spark that might encourage his pen again. He took little with him to the aquarium. Just his quill, some ink, and his ever-present books. He'd never been to the aquarium, though he'd heard of it, which was as good a reason as any, in his opinion, to visit. His first impression was that it was beautiful, like the rest of Riverfall. The colors blended so well, he wondered if its curator was a painter like his mother. Approaching one of the smaller tanks, Jorin saw a small school of fish, flitting to and fro, almost bird-like. His mouth curved into a smile, savoring the irony of such a thing. Looking at them, he quietly took out his book and quill. "A cloud of silver in waters not deep Safe in River's Fall they sleep Far from the oceans their ancestors keep A lazy sun upon them shines Fish and fowl weave new designs And man and nature intertwines..." Jorin almost whispered the lines as he wrote them, eyes fixed upon the setting sun casting sparkling silver off the fish below. For a moment, he let it all in, the murmur of the crowds, the fish swimming peacefully below, and his own poem, as the memory of it echoed in his memory. With a sigh, he looked down at it. "N.C." he muttered as he marked the poem. "Not complete. There is so much beauty here, yet I can't seem to capture it! Mother, what would you do? What would you say?"

[Rinya]

Rinya wasn’t sure how long she stood watching the fish, though it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two. She snapped out of her daze with a shake of her head, the voices that had dimmed around her suddenly clear. Blinking, she stepped back from the tank just as a familiar voice next to her broke through her mental fog. "Not complete. There is so much beauty here, yet I can't seem to capture it! Mother, what would you do? What would you say?" Jorin? When had he gotten here—much less how did she not notice him standing next to her? Then again, he hadn’t seemed to realize that she was there either; which didn’t really surprise her honestly. In the short first meeting she had with him, it was very obvious how much he enjoyed his art—perhaps just as much as she enjoyed her archery. Smiling slightly, she mused at his words. Just like last time, he was very critical of his work. She found his work to be beautiful, but she might not be the best judge of poetry. Honestly, Jorin was really the first poet she had ever heard speak out loud. Granted she had been read to from books of all sorts, but it seemed more… beautiful the way he could just bring things off from the top of his head. Ignoring her own personal space issues, she quietly slipped up next to him and stood on her tippy toes, leaning over his shoulder slightly to glimpse what he had written. ”Perhaps you are trying to hard?” She nearly whispered at him, not wanting to startle him too much. She couldn’t help the small sly smile that crossed her lips as she glanced sideways from his book to the side of his face. ”Maybe you should look first—then write. Sometimes you have to absorb your surroundings before you can truly appreciate the beauty of them.”

[Jorin Ertihan]

Jorin realized with a start that someone was glancing over his shoulder. For a moment, his face flooded with a mixture of embarrassment and shame; incomplete poems was not something he liked other people to see. They were snatches of his soul, conjured up with ink and paper. But as he instinctively drew the book back, he suddenly realized he recognized the voice. "Rinya?" Jorin couldn't help the surprise in his voice. He hadn't expected to meet the young kelvic again, and certainly not here, of all places. Jorin relaxed and set the book back down. "You're right, of course," he confessed to her, as he smoothed out the now-wrinkled pages. "It's just that sometimes, I see all this beauty around me, and I try to put it in words and it barely captures the merest fraction of it. The poem pales in comparison to what I see, and smell, and hear." Jorin noticed that Rinya had chosen to wear simple clothes to her outing to the aquarium. White shirt, dark-colored trousers, nothing fancy, but it didn't need to be. Jorin had always believed that those who felt they had to dress fancy were compensating for a lack of true beauty by borrowing it from others. Jorin smiled with amusement as he studied Rinya, taking in her braided hair, the way the wind was coming in across the bay. The smell of salt air mixing with the strange, fishy odor of the aquarium from below. He turned to her, and without warning, rattled off. "The little osprey is now on land, Watching fish from the aquarium stand. No longer hunting from the skies She sees them now, with different eyes Now they are not food or prey These fish will get a reprieve today!" Jorin laughed, for the first time in a long time. It was a true laugh, that reached his eyes and shook his frame. Oh, that poem was awful, just awful! And yet, he felt so much better. Maybe Rinya was right. Maybe he was trying too hard. When he had calmed down, Jorin offered Rinya his hand. "Well, that was interesting," he said, grinning. "Want to see the rest of the exhibit with me?"

[Rinya]

Rinya almost felt bad—she had forgotten that snooping was generally bad form, especially with someone you’ve only met once before. Before she could entirely feel bad however he recognized her and relaxed. She was glad; he seemed pleasantly surprised to see her. Tilting her head a little, she hummed in agreement with him. Having trouble putting things into words was her specialty. In fact, she was more than a little surprised she hadn’t yet had this issue with him. Males tended to bring out anxiety in her, and often she just spouted the first rude thing she could think of. Her train of thought shifted however when she noticed that he was observing her. He had done it before of course, but at the time she had been covered in feathers. Being human rather than a bird left her feeling naked in a sense. In her hawk form it was easy to hide what she was feeling. However now—now she could feel the slightly rush of blood to her face. Undoubtedly her face was tinged pink. And then he spouted out yet another poem. Simple—but again she didn’t think he realized how right he was. Well to an extent anyways… she figured it would be better if she left off the fact she had hunted before she arrived at the aquarium. But the poem left him laughing. A kind of laugh she had never experienced, but it seemed to bring him genuine happiness. It seemed the effect he had on her last time had not yet worn off either. Despite her pink cheeks, she couldn’t help the smile warmly at him. "Want to see the rest of the exhibit with me?" Rinya could feel the smile slightly slip from her face. An odd sort of feeling bubbled up in her chest. She hadn’t held someone’s hand in years… the last time that she could think of she had been merely a year old. Her father standing tall holding her much smaller hand as they strolled through Sylira's streets. Blinking a few times to remove the visual flashback before her eyes, she slowly reached out and wrapped her fingers around his, trying to ignore how warm his hand was. Her blush was a full out red by this point she was certain, but she held tight. ”S-sure.”Petch it all! Now she was stuttering. As if she couldn’t get anymore embarrassed. Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath before nearly tugging him towards another tank filled with bright pink eels. Well… that was certainly different. ”Your mother… I take it she was an artist too? You speak gently to her—like she was here with you.”Rinya kept her eyes locked on the tank in front of her, still feeling too shy to look at him at the moment. Besides, how often does one see such a thing as a florescent colored eel?

[Jorin Ertihan]

Jorin smiled back when Rinya tentatively took his hand. It was good, this kind of thing, to walk hand-in-hand with someone and have no pressures. No demands. No angry stage master screaming that the troupe was leaving in two bells and he'd better hurry up. Just the gurgle of flowing water and the smell of salt air. He smiled even more when she stuttered her reply. Jorin kicked himself mentally when he realized she must be nervous, though he couldn't imagine why. Jorin thought back, and remembered that he had noticed her smile faded slightly when he'd offered his hand. Was she ... afraid? Of what? Jorin fervently hoped it wasn't of him. Jorin was so absorbed in his own musings he almost didn't notice Rinya drag him over to the eel tank, where a large quantity of many brightly-colored eels wriggled to and fro. It was almost a hypnotizing sight, the eels' pink bodies flashing in the water. Jorin's smile grew yet wider. They were just like him, in a way, proudly displaying their colors to attract attention. His smile fell a bit. Was that all he was? Just a pretender, dressed up in bright clothes to attract attention he didn't deserve? Lightly shaking his head, Jorin tried to push such thoughts from his mind. Rinya was here, it wasn't right to dampen her mood with his problems. "Your mother… I take it she was an artist too? You speak gently to her—like she was here with you." Rinya was saying, still looking at the eels. Jorin nodded, his smile fading to a look of nostalgic longing. "My mother ... yes. She was an artist, a poet, a painter." Jorin stood next to Rinya, her hand warm in his. He'd never really spoke of his parents to others. It wasn't that it was a taboo subject, it was just that no-one had asked. "She saw things ... things only an artist could see. All my childhood, she'd ask me the same question. 'Jorin, what do you see?' She'd ask that at the dockside, on the cliffs, at night at home. I don't think she really cared what I saw, more how I saw it. In the end, I still don't know the answer. Maybe that was the point..." "I suppose, I do think Mother is here, sometimes. I miss her artistic mind, her loving soul. She was a gentle counterpoint to a strict and demanding father. But," Jorin smiled as he looked directly at Rinya, "perhaps I don't need her quite as much as I thought. More importantly, is that ...?" Jorin's eyes lit up as he noticed at a nearby tank a large, brown-colored ray swam through its tank as though it were master of its domain. He walked to it, bringing Rinya along, and took a closer look. It was dark on its upper surface, but its belly was a snow-white, making for a remarkable contrast. Jorin turned to Rinya and smiled at her. "Would you look at that," he mused, turning back to the manta. "The bird of the sea! Is it a bird pretending to be a fish, or a fish pretending to be a bird?" Jorin chuckled a bit. "I'm sure the answer is that it is neither. It is a manta, it does not have to pretend." Jorin's smile faded. Pretend...

[Rinya]

Jorin speaking of his mother was as beautiful as his poems. So this woman molded the man he was now. Though Rinya couldn’t help but wonder why he left home if his mother was such a large influence on him. Was it the drive to see the world? Or perhaps he had to find his own inspiration for his art? Either way Rinya tore her eyes away from the eels to watch him speak. He looked distant as he watched the tank. Maybe even… lonely; then again that might just be her view after leaving her own home. With nothing left for her Sylira, leaving just seemed like a sensible thing to do. She had left to find herself, but how does one find themselves when they didn’t know what to even look for? Living like she had for so long—surviving was the only thing she knew how to do. Taking pleasure in little things like company of another kelvic, or a stroll through the aquarium was easy enough, but Jorin seemed to grasp the enjoyment in a way she couldn’t. Maybe that was just the artist part of him though. "Perhaps I don't need her quite as much as I thought.”As Jorin looked at her, she twitched her nose slightly. She didn’t quite understand what he meant by that. Rinya couldn’t imagine needing anyone, even with that nagging edge deep inside her, the part of her that ached to know. Inherently if she ever found her bondmate, she would feel that way. Regardless of relationship fronts, even best friends bonded could leave her needing to be close. But those thoughts were better left alone. She worried enough about those as it were. Before Rinya could respond about his mother, it was his turn to pull her to a tank. She had to admit that the manta was beautiful—and leave it to Jorin to find a comparison even here in the tanks to the current situation. "The bird of the sea! Is it a bird pretending to be a fish, or a fish pretending to be a bird?"Rinya’s body froze at his words. Those words reflected a recent thought of hers. In fact it was during her first meeting with Jorin. It was something that shook her to the core. Even here in the beauty, she wondered the same for herself. Unknowingly, she gripped his fingers tighter as her breath came out shaky. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his smile fade. His own thoughts seemed to consume him in a different way. She had never seen him like this—dismissing the fact that this was only the second meeting with him. ”Maybe they are not either. Maybe they simply cannot be truly either. Maybe…”Biting her bottom lip, Rinya averted her eyes down away from tank to their joined hands. ”Maybe they pretend because they just don’t belong in either world.”Rinya loved being a kelvic, but lord if it wasn’t confusing at times. Dust seemed to know exactly who she was—there was no half and half. Rinya had no idea just how to accept that fact. Frowning for a second, Rinya continued to stare at their hands, before she looked up at him for a moment. These thoughts were too depressing. And she didn’t like him so… so—well whatever he was right now! Glancing at the sky behind his head, the sunset was beginning to color the sky exactly how she loved it. She suddenly felt bold. Taking a deep breath, she let it go loudly before tugging Jorin’s hand again. ”Come on.” While she doubted he’d put up much fight, her tone left no room for argument. She didn’t want him leaving because she couldn’t get out of her own head. There was something he needed to see, and he was going to see it whether he liked it or not. She pulled him past several full tanks, twisting around what few people were left in aquarium. She stopped abruptly several times, glancing among the tanks before she spotted her destination. Rinya entered the tubes that would lead them down into the bay, if they hurried—they wouldn’t miss the sun setting the sky on fire. It didn’t take long to find the perfect spot either. Stopping on her heel, she turned her face from the tubes to the water held back by the glass. Judging by the sea above them they were quite deep. Off in the distance she could barely make out the bottom of the ships in the dock. She couldn’t even make out the outline of the clouds. But they were there alright. Burning bright hues across the sky, and what little sky was visible was a deep azure blue. The sea around them cast deep shadows, and what light did touch the bottom twisted the seabed golden. This was perfection—even in the few minutes it would last, this was well worth the wait.

[Jorin Ertihan]

It was beautiful. A magnificent display. The colors shifted and blended and collided, making a sort of moving painting. The azure sky bleeding into the fire of the setting sun had a profound effect on Jorin, who watched in silence. His face was an inscrutable mask, for once not lit up with one of his infectious grins, nor pulled back as in one of his rare moments of introspection. "Mother once said that, sometimes, silence is the best poetry," Jorin whispered, glad that someone was by his side to witness this scene with him. "Not everything can be expressed in words. Not everything can be described with flowing text, or paint upon canvas. Some things, you just have to see." As they watched in continued silence, Jorin took note of the schools of fish and the occasional large marine animal that floated past. So serene, so ... peaceful. Normally, he had to look carefully to see beauty. But here, today, it was everywhere. Jorin did not take his eyes off the breathtaking sight, but he squeezed Rinya's hand as an apologetic smile flitted onto his face. "I ... I'm sorry, Rinya," he apologized, his face creased with worry. "I've been ... so very thoughtless. Back then, when I pointed out that Manta, you ... I should not have done that. I should have seen ..." Jorin swallowed a curse. Where was his eloquence? Where were his words? Why had they left him? "Sometimes, I am so engrossed by what I see on the horizon, I miss what is under my nose. All this time, I spoke of what I thought; my own poems, my own thoughts, my own dreams. But you are here too, and I need to remember that. Please forgive me." Jorin looked back at the scene before him. Softly, and this time, without even writing it down, he began to speak. "The sinking sun sets the world ablaze Painting the sky with scarlet rays Firey red on azure waves Deep beneath the dark sea's core We watch here from the farther shore As horizon and sun meet once more Once again the darkness reigns The blackened sea swallowing crimson veins And only silence now remains..." "A poor gift, but all I could manage," Jorin explained softly. "It was the only apology I could think of." Jorin forced a smile on his face. He couldn't dampen her mood too. It wouldn't be fair to her. "What about you?" he asked, calling upon his acting skill to force as much cheer into his voice as he could muster. "Do you come here often?"

[Rinya]

Rinya was glad she didn’t need words at the moment. Of all people in Riverfall, she was certain Jorin would appreciate this sight the most. Actually was more proud that she had the foresight to think of this in the first place. She wasn’t artistic naturally, so the idea that watching a sunset from beneath could have failed her terribly. But no matter the beautiful scenery, she couldn’t help but wince at his apology. She was afraid of this—that he might misunderstand her emotions. It most certainly wasn’t his fault, this was something that she would come to terms with on her own time. She released his hand for a moment, before gently forcing her fingers between his, threading their fingers together and pressing her palm more firmly against his. For the first time in a long time, she wanted to talk. Well… rather she wanted to speak. Biting down on her bottom lip she looked up at his face. She was a master at pretending, and while she may be mistaken in his mood… she was going to try. ”No, this is my first time coming here.”Opening her mouth several times, she couldn’t think of any other words to say. The thought crossed her mind that she probably looked like a fish, and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. Shaking her head, she sighed softly and looked back up at the darkening sky above them. ”My mother died a few days after I was born. I don’t remember a thing about her. I wonder… all the time about the things... like what she could have been like—what she would have taught me.”Rinya bit her lip again. These words tumbled out of her mouth easily, but she was afraid he may misunderstand again. ”My parents were…. Breeding kelvics.”Sighing slightly, she dropped her head to look out dark sea around them. ”Slaves. I don’t—I don’t entirely know what my father thought of me. He took care of me but… I don’t know where he is now.”Shrugging delicately, she finally glanced at his face and gave him a sheepish smile with a shrug. ”Being human is new to me. In my three years of life I’ve only ever lived through watching others. I am… terrible with words. And most of the time I have no idea how to behave around others. I snap, I curse, I speak before I think it through.”She could feel her face redden again. ”You have this odd effect on me. You are… bright. In so many ways…. Ways I can’t describe. I like that you… can find words for everything. You are…”For some reason saying good at it just didn’t do him justice. Shrugging weakly again, she laughed softly, but it was happy. ”That poem… that—that was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.”Tilting her head a little, her eyes widened slightly as a errant thought crossed her mind. ”And please… do not be afraid to speak of your parents. I like hearing about your mother…”

[Jorin Ertihan]

Jorin was quite surprised to hear Rinya speak of her parents and her past. He supposed it might have been because of him speaking of his mother. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, sorry she never got to meet her mother, sorry that her father was not in her life. But as he opened his mouth to say those things he realized that it would not work; none of his words would truly erase that sort of pain. It was the sort of thing she had to come to terms with herself; as much as he wanted to, there was nothing he could do. Instead, he returned her smile with one of his own, as he listened to her telling him about her unfamiliarity with being human, and her awkwardness around others. Jorin was surprised to hear that, since she certainly seemed normal enough to him, if a bit shy. Perhaps other people intimidated her? But he was happy to hear that she liked his poems. As much as he berated his own work, like any other artist he loved knowing his craft was appreciated. "Thank you for your kind words, Rinya. I ... cannot imagine what your childhood was like. I can only describe mine..." Jorin's face took a faraway look. "My mother was a gentle breeze on a hot summer day, a ray of sunshine piercing dismal clouds. Sometimes, I wondered how she and my father ever met, him being ... who he is, but I suspect they loved each other in their own way. She certainly had a different teaching style than Father, that's for sure." Jorin took a breath. This next part, he never told anyone. While he was always happy to speak of his mother, he'd always been strangely reticent about doing the same for his father. Why was he telling her this? It was only the second time they'd met. Nevertheless, for some strange reason, Jorin thought she should know. "My father ... perhaps he defined me almost as much as my mother did. He was a brilliant mathematician. A true pioneer in his field, a man who can look at a complex formula and see patterns. Order." But even as he said it, Jorin's jaw unconsciously twitched. "He'd give me problems, every night. Always ten. Every day, every season, every year for ten years. Six out of ten correct was a passing grade." Jorin's gaze shifted to some of the brightly luminescent underwater creatures that were swimming by. So carefree... "I never passed." It wasn't in anger that Jorin said this. It wasn't in frustration or hate. It was with a heavy acceptance, like someone who had long come to the conclusion he was unworthy. "I tried so hard. Every night, I'd wring my brain out. Sometimes, I'd come close, so very close! But I never got it. And not a single word of encouragement. No, 'good job son', or 'well done, my boy'. Just, 'don't stop, keep going'." Jorin smiled bitterly. "You want to know the funniest part? I don't even hate him for it. Maybe I should, but I can't. Because I'm not a genius, like him. I'm just me." Jorin sighed, and gave Rinya a tired smile. "I suppose ... I suppose I wanted to prove something to him, you know? That I could make it. That I had something to offer. That I wasn't a failure. My mother, she never once graded the crude drawings, the slap-dash paintings, the childish poems I delivered to her every night. She always told me, 'true art comes from the soul! How can I grade the soul?' But more importantly, she believed. In me. I'm not sure my father ever did." Jorin looked up now, and the dark sea was black above him. No stars, they were too deep to see them. Just inky blackness. "When I'm on stage, when I act, I can be a wizard, a king, a god! And for two chimes, I am someone great, someone worthy. But then the play ends. And I'm just me again."