Open [The Tidepool Bar] Raise a Glass

[Satevis]

10th of Spring, 518 AV

Winter had faded into spring, although with Syka's normal mild weather, it was difficult for Satevis to tell. The calendar certainly claimed it, and his Ethaefal appearance had changed accordingly, but the days and nights felt as they always had--perhaps a little hotter, perhaps a little muggier, and perhaps with a few more buzzing insects crowding against the netting of his four-person tent, but otherwise, it was similar enough.

On that night, like most nights, Satevis sat on a cloth spread on the sand at the mouth of his tent, enjoying the pleasant breeze. He sat cross-legged, his lantern burning beside him, a book in his hand. The sea breeze moved through his hair--turned a lavender gray now with the changing of seasons, with winter still clinging to relevance in the white near the ends of the strands. His horns had done the same thing, changing from black to white, with winter's last remnants reflected in his horns' black tips. They would fade in a few days, just in time for his colors to start changing over to summer.

Summer. Eleven years.

He flipped the page, absorbing himself in the clear, no-nonsense writing of one of Kalum's medical journals.

Not far from him, his Verusk companion, Seraya, stood on the sand, practicing with her sword. Seraya with a longsword was artistry in motion, but Satevis didn't feel like watching her now. He was reading his book, and was absorbed enough in it that he didn't notice when Seraya lowered her sword, and, breathing hard from the exertion, made her way across the sand to stand in front of him.

"Are you just going to sit here all night?" she asked.

"I'm reading," Satevis said, looking up at her. "You're welcome to go to sleep, if you like."

"The night's too young for sleeping. I want to have some fun."

"We aren't bound at the hip," Satevis said, looking back at his book. "The Tidepool Bar isn't far."

Seraya snorted, thrusting her blade into the sand at her feet. She folded her arms, fixing him with a green-eyed glare that missed very little. "What are you running from?"

"I'm sorry?" Satevis asked, looking up at her.

"You spend all of your days working, and all of your nights reading. You make it a point not to interact with anyone unless you have to. You hardly sleep, but when you do, you make sure to be asleep when the sun rises, or at least, to be inside for the dawn. I bet you can't even remember the last time you willingly watched a sunrise. So, let me ask you again. What are you running from?"

She looked down, meeting his eyes. Satevis stared into her eyes and found himself at a loss for words. He literally could not find an answer. His mouth opened, strangely dry, and closed again.

"I'm not running from anything," he said.

"Ixamshyke."

Satevis's eyes narrowed. "What do you want me to say?" he asked.

"Fine. Be that way," Seraya said. "Put down the book. We're going to the Tidepool Bar."

Satevis blinked at her. "What?" he asked.

"You heard me," said Seraya. "You need to loosen up, and if I don't get a drink, I'm going to kill someone. And you're the only person around. So get up, we're going drinking."

~*~*~

Seraya was a force of nature. She would not relent until he stood up, following her to the bar. It was, as she said, still early in the night. Early enough that there were people there. He was ashamed at how few of them he recognized--having lived in Syka for almost a full season now, he should have known more. Maybe Seraya was right, maybe he was becoming a recluse.

But it certainly wasn't that he was running from something, was it?

"Oh," Stuvantis said from the main bar, perking up as the two of them approached. "Well, this is a rare sight. What can I get you?"

"I'll take one of the Pretty Girls," Seraya said, motioning at the drink menu.

"I'll have a tea," said Satevis.

"Petch that," said Seraya. She gestured at him with her thumb, her eyes still on Stu. "Get him a Rum Punch or something."

"I don't--," Satevis began.

"I'm not going to sit here while you drink tea, even if it is spiked," Seraya said. "Now shut up and take your medicine."

Medicine. Satevis sighed but relented, waiting for their drinks. As he waited, he tried to shake off his feeling of unease. She was wrong, though, he told himself.

He wasn't running from anything.

[Ixtli]

Late afternoon
Ixtli's Camp


The day had been long and hot, hotter than the past weeks, which meant the end of the cool season and the coming of warmer and wetter days. Beams of sweat rolled along Ixtli's temples, neck and back from her repeated efforts under the sun. She had been free of work this afternoon and had taken the opportunity to stretch her rusty muscles. Back in Taloba, surrounded by warriors and in a culture that celebrated fitness and strength of body, she had constantly exercised and seeked to improve her physical power; here in this tropical paradise where food could be picked from the trees or easily bought, where no enemy restlessly attempted to harm your community and no matriarch kept a close eye on your progress, Ixtli had found her daily exercise quickly replaced by exploration of the area, aimless wander on the beach and more time spent dealing with mundane chores. It was true that, now that she lived alone, extra bells had to be dedicated at keeping her camp in order and herself alive, but she found her personal discipline had waned beyond what she could accept.

Following this reasoning, Ixtli had resolved to come back to more traditional habits and dedicate a small part of each day to better her combat and fitness skills. Today was the first day of a hopefully long string of self-improvement. For half a bell she had been running along the jungle edge, taking advantage of the shade provided by the trees to stay fresh under Syna's tropical energy. She alternated between chimes of fast-paced walk and chimes of bolting through the trees and back on the beach, causing her heart to pound in her chest and pushing her lungs to their full capacity. Her legs burned with the effort and her feet struggled on the unstable, sandy ground, so unlike the familiar jungle floor. She slipped and lost momentum while pushing hard onto the white soft sand, and had to double her efforts to keep a steady speed.

She finished her last stretch of sprinting with a groan, hands on knees, still feeling the burn of her lungs and muscles. She was sweating and panting and in need of water, but the training wasn't over yet. Walking a little further under the trees' shadows, she stretched her legs apart and leaned all the way down to grab her right ankle while keeping the joint straight; she kept the position for a few ticks until the burn behing her knee became too painful, then did the same on the other leg. After that she bent a knee and, grabbing her ankle, pulled it up behing her to stretch the thigh muscle. She repeated this onto her other leg. Once the stretching finished, the Myrian sighed, satisfied with her efforts, and made her ways towards Syka's pool with a spring to her step.

- ¤ - ¤ -

Two bells later
Tidepool Bar

Bathed, refreshed and in clean clothes, Ixtli relaxed in one of the hammocks near the bar, her bare feet hanging by the sides with the toes caressing the water surface while the rest of her body, scantily clad in a simple white tunic, enjoyed the welcome freshness of the early night. A drink was loosely held in her right hand and a shadow of a smile danced on her lips as she unwinded from the day's effort. It seemed she was developing a taste for the sykan lifestyle after all, although she would not admit to it yet.

She didn't pay to much attention to the slow buzz of conversations around her, but a stir in the atmosphere caused the huntress to raise half-dropped eyelids and shake from her dreamy state. As she glanced around discreetly, she noticed the two new arrivants who had caused a change of mood at the Tidepool. A man with lavender hair and strange horn-like shapes growing from his temples stood next to the creature that truly had people staring and conversation enlivening: one of the Verusks was present. Although the man's appearance was remarkable to say the least, with his statuesque bearing and heavenly beauty, the Verusk was the one catching most of the attention.

The woman with otherwordly features didn't seem to care much about being the main topic of interest. She and her companion had just ordered some drinks and it appeared they were just here to relax and enjoy themselves, like the rest of the crowd. Ixtli gazed at her steel grey, reptilian skin, its emerald highlights glowing under the light of nearby torches. She admired her stance and the way she carried herself, confident and nonchalant at the same time. The Myrian wondered silently at her story, her abilities. The Verusk moved boldly, not hiding her exotic nature in the least, and for Ixtli her behaviour spoke of assurance and strength of character. Strength being one of the most highly regarded trait a person could possess in myrian eyes, she decided that she would probably enjoy the Verusk's company for the evening, and that it was time to take an interest into this foreign but seemingly capable race.

Adroitly leaping out of her hammock, Ixtli made her way to the counter onto which she put down her empty glass. At first without a look for the newly arrived pair, she called out to Stu with a brief gesture.
"A refill, please. The surprise of the day. That stuff is good."
She then turned to face the grey-skinned Verusk, still leaning with an elbow on the bar top, and eyed her from head to toe, her face a mask of pure neutrality. Although it almost seemed like she ignored the man right next to her, she took in his look attentively and nodded a short greeting his way before speaking.

"Hi there. Good to see one of you mingling a bit more with the crowd. So, how's Syka treating you? Adapting to the jungle life yet?"


oocLedger= -2SM for drinks.
Sat, let me know if you'd like anything changed!

Common | Myrian Calls | Thoughts

[Satevis]

OOCHi Ixtli Thanks for joining! Just a note that Sat is in his Ethaefalan form now, since it's just a little after dark in my first post. If you need it to be late afternoon, though, I'm totally happy to change it!

Seraya turned her head towards the woman that approached her, accepting the glass that Stu handed her without even looking at its contents. Satevis was a little more hesitant as Stu passed him his own glass. While he did drink when the occasion warranted it, he hardly ever drank anything stronger than wine, and never with the intent to get drunk. The practice felt alien to him, with his memories of the austerity of Benshiran tents. He knew that Taras's life was separate from his own existence, but he was still getting used to the idea of living in a place that wasn't so tightly bound by rules...or by any rules at all.

Still, the drink was in his hand, and he wasn't going to refuse it. He took a sip, studying the woman that was speaking to Seraya.

She was tall, tall enough to dwarf his mortal seeming and likely tall enough to look his Ethaefalan form in the eye. The tattoos that adorned her dark skin made him wonder if she was a Myrian - if she was, she would be the first he had ever met. She certainly did move with the same hunter's grace that marked Seraya's movements. A kindred spirit, Satevis thought, taking another small sip of his drink. Good for her.

"Syka's alright," Seraya said, drinking from her cup as if it contained water instead of alcohol. "I could do without the mugginess, but I can't really complain." The Verusk must have noticed the same similarities between her and the stranger that Satevis had noticed. She leaned some of her weight against the bar, flashing the stranger a grin. "Guessing you're probably used to it, at least. The drinks are pretty good, I'll say that much."

Satevis decided that now was a time to make a graceful exit. He nodded towards the woman, then looked at Seraya. "It looks like you're making friends," he said. "I'll just be sitting over there..."

He indicated a hammock with a nod of his head, one that he had already picked out because of the ocean view that it offered. It was blessedly vacant at present, and if he had to be out here at the bar anyway, he might as well enjoy himself. He had just started to edge towards it, however, when Seraya reached out, lightning-quick, and grabbed him by the arm. Satevis came to a stop and nearly spilled his drink.

"Oh no, you don't," Seraya said. "You're not getting away that easily." She turned towards the woman and said, in explanation. "This is Satevis, the babysitter I got stuck with for the season. I dragged him out here to try and get him to have some fun and stop brooding at the moon. I'm Seraya, in case you haven't already figured that out. And you are?"

She loosened her grip on Satevis, extending that hand towards the woman in greeting. Satevis frowned, rubbing at his arm where she had grabbed him. He had to admit, Seraya had quite the grip. But did she have to put it that way?

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Satevis

[Ixtli]

"I'm very much used to it, that's true. I've been living somewhere very similar all my life." Ixtli nodded slightly at Stu as the priest brought her new drink. She took a long sip from the refreshing beverage, most of its alcoholic taste hidden by the sweetness of the fruit juices it contained. The liquid warmed her insides after running down her throat and she felt that she was starting to relax even more.

Ixtli flashed an amused half-grin as the horned male attempted a discreet escape and his Verusk companion cut it short. For a creature of such imposing aura, he seemed rather shy, like he didn't want to be here. The Myrian's gaze lingered on his strange features as discreetly as possible, impressed by his height - the tallest she had ever seen for a male - but mostly drawn to the white glass-like horns around his head; she had never seen anything like these on anyone before and silently wondered at the man's origin.

The Verusk's voice turned Ixtli's attention back at her.
"Seraya, Satevis, nice to formally meet you," she answered, giving each one a nod as she repeated their names. "I'm Ixtli. Arrived here last season. Resident butcher." She shook the extended hand with a firm grip and moved her ever-watching gaze onto Satevis.
"So, you're not too fond of parties I take? Wanted to keep her all for yourself?" She added with a smirk, tilting her head towards Seraya. "I don't think I've seen you around the settlement before… I would remember." Her eyes briefly glanced over the horns again. "Where about do you work?"

The real question that was tugging at her lips had nothing to do with Satevis' work in Syka; the Myrian's true wonder lay in the man's appearance, his crown of horns, his ethereal looks, so after the introductions were done she gestured at the horns, her face showing clear interest.
"And… What's with these? What kind of creature are you?"
The question was straightforward, the tone curious but not intrusively so. The Myrian had no intention of offending him, just a desire to know his origin, for he was obviously more than a simple human. She usually had little interest in foreign men, but Satevis was too exceptional a figure to not arouse her attention. The same could be said for the Verusk; her skin glowed a surreal green in the torches' warm light, colourful patches dancing over the cold grey of her body.

"And what about you and your people? What are you going to do now that you are back in Mizahar?"
Ixtli seated herself atop one of the bar stools, making herself comfortable for the conversation and the answers to come. The night was still young.

Common | Myrian Calls | Thoughts

[Satevis]

"Yeah, I can't really say the same," Seraya said, responding to Ixtli's comment about where she lived in the past. "It was a lot drier where I come from. You too, right?"

Seraya glanced at Satevis, and he realized that she intended for him to enter into the conversation. Feeling somewhat out of his depth--he would be the first to admit that he often had a hard time getting over the awkward first moments of an encounter with strangers--he nodded. "In a manner of speaking," he said, to Ixtli and Seraya. He smiled slightly as he thought about those fragmented, distant memories, the ones that belonged to his past life. "It's true that my clearest memories are from Yahebah and Eyktol."

It seemed as though he had become firmly enmeshed in this conversation. Satevis glanced at Seraya, who had loosened her hold on his arm, but was still watching him closely, as if he was about to break and run at any moment. Her concern was amusing and concerning in equal measure--certainly he wasn't that awkward, was he? To prove that she had nothing to worry about, he smiled at Ixtli, extending his hand towards her in greeting as well.

"It's nice to meet you, Ixtli," he said. "I arrived here last season as well. I'm an apprentice at the Panacea, although I'm afraid I still have a lot to learn before the Alavarths let me do more than cut bandages."

At Ixtli's words about keeping Seraya to himself, Seraya snorted derisively, leaning against the bar. She raised her drink to her mouth, tipping it back and downing the rest of the shot in one go, as if to say what she thought of that idea. Satevis coughed, looking from her to Ixtli.

"I admit, I haven't come out here that often," he said, his expression growing somewhat sheepish. "I...tend to lose track of time. Although it's possible that you may have seen me, during the day. I look quite different then."

He couldn't help but notice the way that Ixtli's eyes were drawn to his horns, but he was used to the stares by now. It was part of the reason why he didn't often wander around the settlement at night. At her gesture, however, he reached up, touching one of the glassy horns with his hand.

"I'm an Ethaefal," he said. "A...soul that was taken out of the cycle of reincarnation, by Leth in this case. I..." He had been about to say 'fell', but Kultra's words returned to him. He wasn't willing to admit that Kultra had been telling the truth, but the word felt odd in his mouth now. "...returned, somehow. It isn't entirely clear how. But because Leth is--was--my patron, I take on this appearance at night. During the day, I appear as I was during my last life. In this case, a Benshira."

Satevis had had to explain his nature many times before. It had been a long time since he had stumbled over those words as much as he did then. The practiced words felt wrong, somehow. Out of date. He wondered if Ixtli had noticed his hesitation.

He took another sip of his drink. It really was quite good, and it was warming him up. He should thank Seraya.

"What about you?" he asked Ixtli before he caught himself. There was no good way to outright ask someone if they were Myrian. If they weren't, there was a fair possibility they might be insulted by the question.

At Ixtli's question to her, Seraya frowned, setting her glass down on the counter and folding her arms across her chest. "To be honest, I'm not really sure," she said. "I haven't thought much further than finding a place to stay. I guess settling here is a good first step. The others might have better answers, though. I just follow them around and make sure they don't get killed."

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