[Maro] Something Something beach.

by **Nemori** on December 24th, 2016, 5:45 pm

39th of Winter, 516

The location that Nemori found herself felt far away from the main city, the twisting effect seeming to disappear. Nemori was glad, although the newness of it still felt strange. It had been a slow process of getting used to everything twisting and taking her on wild goose chases, and she was slowly getting accustome to the city. She still missed Avanthal badly, the safe familiar flat snowy plains forever lingering in her heart. The area itself was not normal, not like she would consider normal anyway. The houses were layered differently, meshing of architectural designs with no regard for each other. It was as if the designers had an argument and were determined to mess up the other as much as possible. An elegant wood door had been sunk into a disorganised stone building. Raw, unpainted stone roughly slotted together haphazardly. Where was she? The road beneath her had the same disorder to it, swapping between dirt patches, wood patterns and stone decoration. As she stared down at the floor, as she was accustomed to doing in order to hide her hair and eyes, she tried to count the steps between swapping but it varied so wildly that the task quickly became redundant. The streets were busy, people rattling about and shouting. They carried different things with them. The smell of fresh fish occasionally wafted through the air and she wrinkled her nose at it. The smell was bizarre and unpleasant. It was when she could hear water that she realised her location, some sort of port? She glanced up.

They was a long wooden platform that reached out to slowly lapping waves. Were they anywhere near a sea? She could not remember anymore. It would not surprise her at all if this was some illusionary construct ocean. For a moment she found herself staring out into the waves. It seemed to reach far into the distance, it was a good illusion she concluded. They was a thin gap where the shore ran. It was a scruffy beach, patches of grass breaching closer to the water and the sand looked pebbly and unpleasant. Nemori knew no different, it was the first beach she had properly seen. As far as she could tell it was normal. It was slightly breezy, the waves were relatively calm in the distance.

Nemori found herself walking along the shore. The sound of the waves on one side and the busy docks to the other. The pebbles and sand made walking more difficult. The sand causing her to sink and the pebbles digging into her shoe uncomfortably. Occasionally she would find some debris, interesting shells or pieces of wood that had washed up. These she stopped for, crouching down to inspect them more carefully. The shells were pretty, and she would study the patterns and shapes before returning them to the sands. Complex spirals and more flat leaf shaped shells. She had no use for them, and did not want to take them from their environment. They were surely for a purpose?

The driftwood she spent more attention to, attempting to measure it up by eye. The shape she was looking for she was unsure of. Some of the smaller pieces were discarded and the larger pieces were too big to carry comfortable. The perfect pieces, the ones she wanted, where medium sized. The wood was slightly soft to touch, even when not wet. She hoped they would be better to practice her carving with. She gathered a few in her arms before making her way back over to the wooden platform. As far as she could see nobody was using it. She settled herself against one of the support beams. The brick base pressing against her back. A quick glance up at the busy town. It seemed content to pass her by without attention. Nobody should be paying attention to her, she hoped. She placed the driftwood in her lap and pulled her backpack around, starting to search around for her dagger.

by **Maro** on December 25th, 2016, 4:54 pm

There were gulls overhead, but that was no different than any place with a port. There were always gulls overhead, waiting for a scrap to fall or something to be abandoned. Cacophonous and irreverant, they wheeled and turned through the sky above, pestering one another and mocking traders who threw poorly aimed stones at them, all the while soiling anything they could fly over.

Maro had already had a few narrow misses today. The white spots that splattered the shore around him was evidence enough of that, but that hadn’t been the worst part about the gulls, not today. Today, he had been fishing, and ever since he had made his first catch, a particularly big gull kept trying to sneak up to Maro’s bucket and steal the fish. It was a handsome fish, one that Maro was proud to say he had caught, but that only made it all that much more appealing to the scavengers of the shore.

It was a dance of sorts. The big gull would hop toward the bucket, stop to test Maro’s attention with a loud cackle, then hop forward again. When Maro had decided the gull was too close for comfort, he would shout at it or kick sand or throw something or wave his arms wildly. The success of his actions were questionable, but one thing that couldn’t be questioned was that it made him look like an idiot… or a mad man. Either way, the gull was distracting him from his work. It was difficult to give his line the appropriate play when he kept having to shift his attention away from the fishing pole. Not to mention, Maro’s lack of commitment in one direction or the other only served to make the gull bolder.

Then, everything happened at once. Garishly courageous, the gull hopped forward at a little skip run toward the bucket. Just as Maro was about to turn to scare the bird away, a fish struck his lure, and the fishing line went tight, forcing his attention back to his work. Maro caught the reel and kept it from spooling out. He had to; otherwise, he might lose his lure and his line. If he didn’t chase away the gull, he might lose his fish. Glancing over, he did so just in time to see the bird hop on to the edge of the bucket. There was nothing he could do but shout, so he tried that. The bird looked up at Maro, screeched once, and looked back down into the bucket at its prize.

Maro resigned himself to losing the fish, but as he did, a shimmer darted through the air next to the bucket. It only took a moment, and Autumn was fully materialized. She wasn’t aggressive, but she didn’t need to be. Her sudden appearance was enough to startle the gull. It stumbled back, forgetting there was no footing behind it, and collapsed into heap. Thrashing about until it found its feet again, the gull took off in its awkward waddle run, flapping its wings until it had enough momentum to lift its fat body into the air.

Laughing, Maro turned his attention back to the fish on his line. Slowly, he worked it toward the shore, occasionally letting the line out some when the fish was fighting too hard. Whenever the fish came to the surface and thrashed, water droplets sprayed through the air, catching the light and creating something akin to an illusion. When the fish was about halfway in, he felt a sudden, frigid touch on his shoulder. Glancing over he saw Autumn resting her chin on his shoulder, staring out over it at the water.

She caught his glance and answered his unasked question. “I just wanted to see what this looked like from your perspective.”

“Thanks for saving my fish.”

He could see her smile out of the corner of his eye. “I like being useful.”

Bit by bit, he fought the fish, reeling the line in and letting it out, until the creature’s strength was sapped. Once that point hit, Maro’s task wasn’t difficult anymore. He continued reeling in until the fish was right next to shore. Only when he lifted it from the water did the fish show any signs of struggle. Setting in swiftly on the sand, Maro pulled his bolas from where it was secured at his waist. With his weight holding the fish in place, he lifted the bolas over his head and brought the balls crashing down on the fish’s head. The struggle was over. He passed the fish through the water several times to rinse the grit off and placed it in his bucket with the other.

He gestured down the beach. “Shall we move on? This definitely hasn’t been a productive spot.”

Autumn shrugged. “Sure.”

As they walked along, Maro struggled with the weight of his bucket. It wasn’t terribly large, but filled with water, it made a formidable weight against the unimposing size of his body. Maro wasn’t big. In fact, he was scrawny, and that made tasks like this one difficult. Still, he had a dogged determination, and that got him through most things. Besides, he liked being out on the shore, the gritty sand squishing between the toes of his bare feet.

“What brought you out today?” he questioned Autumn. “Usually you stay home.”

“I was bored,” she admitted. “Besides, half the nights you never come home.”

He smiled ruefully at that. He still hadn’t figured out how to navigate the changing streets of Alvadas.

A short way up the beach was a small jetty that jutted out into the water. Fish, he knew, liked areas like this. The cover provided them protection from airborne predators, and the shaded, sheltered area drew a variety of insects that in turn drew the smaller fish that in turn drew the bigger ones. It would be a good spot to try and might provide him with more fish than the previous spot had.

However, there was a young woman sitting against one of the support beams, and it would be rude to ruin her peace without her permission. Autumn had been a stickler about being polite when she had raised him, so Maro wandered up to her with Autumn drifting bodiless next to him. It wasn’t something Maro often thought of, but he hoped the ghost at his side wouldn’t disturb the woman. In Black Rock, it was a regular occurrence, but this was not Black Rock.

He held up a hand in greeting as he neared and flashed a friendly smile between heavy breaths. The bucket was taking its toll on him. “Good morning, friend. Mind if I fish here?”

by **Nemori** on December 25th, 2016, 11:37 pm

The voice startled Nemori and she jumped. The driftwood and in her lap scattered around her form and she looked up at the source of the voice. Green eyes met the pair that had approached her. Had she been so unobservant to not notice them? Or where they simply more stealthy then her? She pushed the idea from her mind and focused on the now. She had to act normal, these people were unknown, a risk.
“Fish?" The word was unusual, one she had yet to experience. She frowned as she tried to work it through in her head, coming to a blank. The common phrase was one she could not translate very well. She went to open her mouth to speak again but her eyes were drawn to the woman painted in none existent colors. The stark blue eyes of the woman were striking, especially against the fadedness of the rest of her. Nemori found herself staring in confusion and amazement. The closer male barely registered to her, despite him being the source of the voice. The woman was not there, her eyes told her this as a certainty. The city was strange, was this another trick it was playing on her? She gulped, drawing her attention back inwards before forcing her eyes down and pulling the hood on her coat gently so that it hid her more. Act shy. She neither wanted to be rude or look out of place.

”Good day. Not good at Common. Sorry” The sentence was rehearsed but marred and unnatural sounding. Slowly she started to collect the driftwood from the floor around her, placing it back on her lap. She placed the dagger on her lap too. In reach but clearly none threatening.

Languages :

by **Maro** on December 27th, 2016, 4:38 am

Green eyes looked up and greeted his approach. Green eyes. Much like his, though he hardly ever saw his own. There were no mirrors in his shack. Maybe that was something he should add to the home. Autumn wasn’t prone to vanity, but it would be nice for her know how beautiful she looked, if Maro’s frequent compliments weren’t enough.

“Fish?” There was uncertainty in her voice when she repeated the word. She had nearly formed a response when she finally noticed Autumn. Ghosts were enough to strike most people speechless, and the young woman was no different. She considered Autumn, her bright blue eyes and colorless figure, for several moments before pulling her hood a little more snugly over her head. “Good day. Not good at Common. Sorry.”

Maro felt a twinge of guilt for having disturbed her but was determined to make it up to her. As with most things he tried to do for good, it would probably end up a disaster. If she couldn’t speak Common well, he’d do his best to accommodate her. He himself couldn’t speak any other language well, but he could make himself easier to understand. When he tried to communicate with the sailors speaking Fratava, he always found it helpful when they slowed down. Speak slowly, they always said, not loudly. Slow was good for allowing others to pick up more words. Loud just made one sound threatening and belligerent.

Lifting one of the lifeless fish from the bucket, he gestured to it and repeated the word. “Fish.” He grabbed his fishing pole and made a mock cast toward the water. “Do you mind if I catch fish here? It’s my job.”

Maro assumed the best of people and assumed she would not deny him the use of her small section of the beach. He introduced himself and Autumn with a smile, using hand gestures as much as possible. This too had always helped him understand the sailors. Pointing first to himself and then to Autumn, he gave their names to the woman. “I’m Maro, and this dead beauty is Autumn. Are you new to Alvadas? Most who have been here for any length of time have a pretty good comprehension of Common.”

He hoped his genuine cheerfulness was enough to get her talking a bit, no matter how bad her Common was. He’d enjoy the challenge their conversation presented for the both of them. If Maro was anything, it was curious, and strangers presented all sorts of curiosities.

by **Nemori** on December 28th, 2016, 2:16 pm

Her attention was drawn to the male when he produced one of the fish from his bucket. Repeating the word. He then pointed towards the fishing rod, a motion she understood. Job? IT was his job to catch fish. That made sense. She briefly wondered what the fish here would do if they were illusions, could they be caught and fed?

“Do you mind if I catch fish here? It’s my job.” His question was somewhat of a surprise to her. Not really expecting to be asked. After a few stunned ticks she nodded, gesturing towards the sea. He smiled in return and Nemori felt herself returning the gesture involuntarily. Despite the fear their presence imposed and the potential danger it was nice to get to communicate with someone new.

Maro, as he called himself, introduced his friend as Autumn. Autumn was described as a ‘dead beauty’ and Nemori felt confusion cross her features at the sentiment. Dead, as the god of the city seeked for her and her people to be. Yet beautiful? Perhaps it was some strange turn of phrase. Nemori glanced at Autumn again, she was definitely beautiful. It must be some phrase she was unsure of. Although why calling someone dead was a compliment was beyond her comprehension.
“New, yes. Some days merely. Learning…” She found herself gesturing around them, at the general city. Everything still felt so strange to her. “…many. Alvad… Alvadas is strange” The name of the city she was residing, well more hiding, still felt strange on her lips. The combination of letters did not flow well together. She knew the longer this conversation continued the more at risk she was. Part of her enjoyed the idea of company, that perhaps these were as nice as Alex had been to her. She could only hope. It would be rude to stop replying, she reasoned. As long as she reminded herself what a threat it was then she was going to be fine, her eyes would not betray her if she kept herself fearful that they would turn her in.

Languages :

by **Maro** on December 29th, 2016, 1:08 am

Maro was glad that she allowed him to fish and, even more so, that she returned his smile. Even though she was shy, his friendliness came across as what it truly was, genuine. After his lengthy introduction, confusion darted across her face, and Maro worried, for a moment, that the language barrier between them might be too difficult to overcome.

But then, she responded, “New, yes. Some days merely. Learning… many. Alvad… Alvadas is strange.”

Maro felt bad for forcing her to converse in a language that seemed so trying on her. Even the name of the city proved cumbersome, and her tongue tripped over the word as it came out. Mere days? It wasn’t too difficult to tell. Still, she was putting forth the effort to embrace the culture and its language, and Maro respected her for that.

He also noticed that in her response she had neglected to return an introduction, but that was more his fault than hers, he was sure. He hadn’t directly inquired for her name, though he thought an introduction would be considered by many to be just that. Also, he had linked together too many statements and questions all at once. The Svefra sailors always kept their questions and statements short, no more than a sentence, to ease Maro’s difficulty in understanding a language he barely spoke. He’d have to keep that in mind when speaking with this young woman, though longer sentences allowed for things to be understood in context. Balance in all things, as many people from Black Rock understood. This was the best way. He’d have to find a balance in length.

Autumn had stepped back and turned to watch the lapping water in an effort to give the young woman her space and create a sense of ease and calm in the conversation. They weren’t here to interrupt her. Instead, they were merely here to share the space. Maro took Autumn’s subtle hint and stepped back as well, doing the best to make the movement seem natural.

Maro didn’t press her for a name. Instead, he tried to keep the conversation light and friendly. “I remember being new to Alvadas. I guess, in a way, I still am. I’ve been here less than a year.” A gesture, kind and well-intended, burst into his mind. “What’s the language of your home? Perhaps, I speak a touch of it and can make our conversation a little easier.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. Mere days she had been here. He looked out over the water to hide the regret and embarrassment in his eyes. “Sorry. Probably the last thing you want at the moment is a reminder of home. I remember how homesick I was when I first arrived.”

He tried to shift the conversation elsewhere as he pulled out his fishing rod and gave her some extra space. Flinging his line into the water, he listened to the satisfying plop the lure made as it landed out beyond the end of the jetty. “What’s with the wood?”

by **Nemori** on December 30th, 2016, 7:35 pm

Nemori found herself watched the two strangers as they moved. The woman, Autumn, stepped away towards the water. Her movements still seemed strange and Nemori found herself lingering on the woman for longer than normal. Maro seemed to also take a step back from her.

His words turned to questions of her land, her language and she opened her mouth to speak before hesitating. What was she going to say? She looked down, attempting to hide the well of panic that bubbles inside her. Her mind raced trying to find an appropriate response, she could speak one or two sentances of Nari, maybe she could say it was that? That she was form Wind Reach. She had heard enough stories from there. An apology came from Maro and she hesitated. Homesick. Of course she was homesick, but she had very little time to grieve for her home. She was thankful that he moved on. Hopefully he took her actions as little more than homesick.

Nemori glanced up once more, finding him looking away. He was sorting out his fishing rod and she studied his actions for a moment. Fishing with a line was not something she was accustomed too. The lure landed and danced on the surface of the water. It was some distance from them. How would he know when they was a fish to catch? She puzzled over this. His words snapped her back to reality again. She looked down at the wood.
“Oh, the wood is…. To cut. For a memory.” She grabbed her dagger and one of the blocks of wood. Miming the scraping action in an attempt to convey it properly. She felt certain in her use of the word memory from talking to Alex. “Making a bird” Her earlier plans of trying for something more complex had been waylaid by her lack of ability.

Languages :

by **Maro** on January 1st, 2017, 3:01 pm

“For a memory,” she said.

It was an odd turn of phrase, so he turned to see what she meant. Holding up the wood, she mimicked whittling away at the wood. “Making a bird.”

“Carving? I’ve never tried my hand at that. I’m afraid I probably wouldn’t be much good at it.”

He turned his attention back to the water and his line. His lure had fallen too far from the jetty, it seemed, because no fish risked pursuing the enticing lure, even though its silver and green colors danced with the light of the sun just beneath the surface of the water. Every so often, Maro would pop the line as he reeled it to shore, trying to mimic the darting motion of some fish.

He figured he should say something, but everything he wanted to ask he thought would bring about thoughts of her home. She had seemed grateful for his avoidance of that subject, or at the very least, she hadn’t objected the change of subject. The final question he settled on was dangerously close to the subject, but it would allow her to skirt around it if she really wanted to. “A bird? How is that a memory?”

He reeled in the empty lure and recast his line, this time letting the lure land closer to the jetty and out past its end. After years of fishing, his casts were getting more and more accurate, but this one still landed farther away from the jetty than he wanted. Still, it was closer than the last, so he gave it a try, slowly reeling the line toward himself but not so slowly that the lure didn’t glitter the way a fish ought to. He popped the line more as it strayed past the jetty, but all the motion he tried didn’t bring about the results he wanted. Cursing silently to himself, he pulled up an empty lure.

He gave it one more try, pushing his luck to get the lure even closer. Luck had not been on his side lately, and he should’ve known better. As if mocking him, the lure flashed in the sun more brightly than it had all day long as it sailed over the end of the jetty, leaving Maro’s line draped over the end of the dock. Ignoring that he knew it was a bad idea, Maro tried reeling the line in. Suddenly, the line went tight and would reel no more. He had snagged the lure on one of the support beams of the jetty.

by **Nemori** on January 5th, 2017, 6:23 pm

Nemori puzzled over his fishing technique for a moment. It did feel very strange to her, the movements made no sense. Instead she looked down at her piece of wood. The driftwood was far softer than the other woods she had practiced with. The dagger blade dug into the wood more easily and she started to scrap away small sections. She had the vague shape in mind although it would be a while before it even vaguely resembled her intention. Each cut was only rough and misshapen. She figured as he got closer to the end result she could work on smoothing the wood somehow.
Maro’s lack of understanding of her memento threw her for a moment. The words attempting to be pieced together in her mind in order to answer his question. She glanced up at him. Hoping the words would form together in her mind.
“My friend wears them, at his neck. He said they were a memory. Is that not?” Confusion registering slightly too late as her eyes shifted into grey. Panic ran through her as realisation hit her she looked down, closing her eyes. Hoping he had not noticed. Hoping the other woman had not been paying attention, hoping that random strangers were too far away. Her eyes shifted back into pale green behind closed eyelids.

Languages :

by **Maro** on January 7th, 2017, 11:51 pm

“My friend wears them, at his neck. He said they were a memory. Is that not?”

He turned back to her as she said this, shifting his attention away from his fishing line and lure for a moment. She was glancing back down at the project in her hands when he did, and he hoped he hadn’t embarrassed her. A language barrier was a difficult thing to get around, but people often knew more than they thought they did. Compliments went a long way in reinforcing this, another tip he had picked up in his times conversing with sailors.

“Your Common is better than you think it is.” He answered her question. “Yes, that is a memory.” Letting a moment pass to let all that sink in, he added. “I was just curious as to what the significance of the memory was. Since it isn’t your memory though, I suppose I’ll never know.”

He held up his fishing pole and smiled as he secured the handle deep in the sand, though with her head down, she missed the gesture. “I hope you’ll excuse me, but I have to go fetch my lure.”

Walking beside the jetty, Maro waded out into the water. The first few strides only saw him ankle deep, but after a few more, he realized the water dove off more quickly than he thought. One moment, he was knee deep; the next, he was up to his waist. The water wasn’t frigid, but the sudden emersion was enough of a shock to make him tense and shiver. His hand found the wood of the jetty next to him, and he used it to steady himself as he went deeper and deeper. He hadn’t realized the water here was so deep. It definitely didn’t look it, but he should’ve expected Alvadas to keep a few tricks up its sleeve, even this far out.

Soon he found himself swimming from one support beam of the jetty to the next. Maro had never been great at swimming, and so his method was nothing more than an inelegant dogpaddle. His arms splashed about in front of him and off to his sides in short little strokes in an attempt to guide his way while his legs did the majority of the work keeping him above water. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it got the job done. Paddling forward, he took a rest at each beam he came to, clinging to the wood until he felt ready to go on to the next.

Every time he stopped, the fish that had scattered from his chaotic thrashing neared him again, curious as to what this inept swimmer could be. No aquatic predator was so clumsy, so while he wasn’t flailing, the fish felt safe enough to return. He cursed them silently for not taking the bait.

Finally, he reached the end of the dock and the support that his lure had snagged on. Holding onto the support with his legs, he tracked his line to where it submerged beneath the waterline. With his hand pinching the line firmly, he slid his hand done until it came into contact with the little metal lure. He cursed aloud this time as one barb of the triple hook caught his finger. Still, that let him know where the hook was, and his fingers wrapped around its base. It was just a matter of wiggling it some, and soon the lure was free. He tossed the lure away from the dock, so he could reel it in when he got back to shore.

His legs were already tired from the effort, but he knew he had to return to shore. For a moment, he let his eyes sweep over his short route back and noticed that a wide array of driftwood had gathered beneath the small pier. As he paused at each support beam, he investigated the pieces of wood, sifting through them in search of what he thought might make a good candidate for carving. About halfway back, he found a couple he thought would do. They weren’t too large or too small, and both were completely free of knots. Tucking them both under one arm, Maro made the rest of the swim in with only one arm. His inelegant paddle became the helpless splash of a beached fish, but somehow, he made it in.

Autumn met him at the shore, laying a hand gently on his on his arm to hold his attention with her for a moment. She had seen the wood pieces and knew he was on his way to deliver them to the woman. Reveling in the chill of her touch, he listened to what she had to say.

“She’s one of them, Maro.” Autumn kept her voice to a whisper.

“One of who?”

“Them. The ones everyone’s looking for. She’s Vantha.”

Maro’s eyes widened in excitement. “You’re sure? How do you know?”

“I saw her eyes change color.”

“It is true.” He started off toward the Vantha woman, but Autumn’s hand on his arm stopped him again.

“Be careful. You know what’s been promised to those who associate with them.”

Maro nodded, considering this for a moment, but in the end, he made the short walk to where the woman was working on her carving. He offered the pieces of wood to her with another smile. “I thought you could use these for your carving.” Leaning against the rough wood of the jetty, he looked back out to the water. “I’d keep your eyes down more often, friend. Is it true they change color?”

PM to join [Maro] Something Something beach.