Ask Catch a Wave

[Nakoa Singh]

It'd been only a relatively short while since Nakoa last visited home, but this time it was mostly for recreation. They worked and studied hard, trained every day, and they felt like relaxing in the sea with a little fishing. Besides, his supply of fresh seafood was running low, and damn if he was going to rely on that shipped garbage. Food was always better when Nakoa caught it themself

Dressed casually, the Tethysian mercenary strode through the busy thoroughfares of one of Wrean's few surface cities. Outlanders and natives mixed, haggling at street stalls and moving goods from one place to another. Nakoa himself was headed toward a sea dock, from which he'd rented a humble sailcraft for the next few days. Over his shoulder he carried a large supply bag. Everything else had already been loaded by dock staff. It was looking to be a good time. Maybe they'd even find some interesting bit of island somewhere around.

But on his way, attention was drawn to a bit of commotion by the docks. Raised voices weren't all that unusual, but it was the tone, or perhaps accent, of a voice that drew his attention. Language or cultural differences weren't unusual on Wrea. All the same, Nakoa decided to wander over and take a look. Maybe it'd be entertaining.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys had come to Wrea to get seafood for his kitchen. He wanted to ensure he had the freshest and most directly sourced ingredients possible. Unfortunately for him, he had no idea what fresh fish looked, felt, or smelled like. As such, without the timely intervention of a passing sailor, Karys would have purchased twenty pounds of nearly rotted fish.

That would have been unacceptable.

The sailor caught onto what the scam artist was up to almost immediately. A shouting match had broken out between the two of them. Karys stood there with one arm across his chest, eyes closed, head tilted down, and one hand pinching the bridge of his nose lightly. His time was being wasted, this annoyed him.

“Will you just tell me how to obtain…fish?” He shouted, finally having enough of the argument.

The two arguing Wrean’s immediately stopped their shouting match and turned to look at him. They stared blankly at him for a moment, confusion written across their faces. Then they began to bark with laughter.

Karys’ face turned a deeper shade of red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

“What is so funny?” He yelled. “Where do I acquire fish?” He asked again.

He was beginning to understand why Azar treated humans differently than their kind. Idiots to the last of them.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

AMBIENT THEME​

Nakoa turned the corner to behold several unexpected things. For one, there was a Sith here. And they were, somehow, even redder than usual for their kind—an expression of frustration. No piercings, either. The native Tethysian noted how the outlander decided to dress for Wrea's weather.

And of course, the barrel of fish was obviously expired. Nakoa eyed it warily; they could smell it from where they were. Trying to offload that stuff as food instead of chum only ever worked on passing outlanders and gave the other mongers a bad name. No wonder there was an argument.

And asking- shouting, really- where to acquire fish? The last Pureblood Nakoa had gotten to know to any degree had never seen an ocean and was terrified stiff of small lakes. Perhaps this was similar? Had they never seen real fish before? Interesting. After the strong and lasting impression Azar had made and the promise of potential entertainment, how could Nakoa not involve himself yet again?

"Baji! You at this again?" Nakoa's voice called in accented basic as he strode up to the scene, tone crisp and calm as this autumn morning's first breaths over the sea. He looked amused, if anything. "You know better after the Wookiee, ah?" This time when there was laughter the fishmonger's was a touch more uncomfortable. <I've got it o> Nakoa said to the helpful sailor in a short phrase of Tethysian's beautiful, whale-sung sounds. The tall sailor wished Karys luck with good-humoredly and strode off again, whistling to herself.

Amber-gold eyes turned to Karys. For a moment his gaze was sharp and analytical, but it passed the next moment as if it'd never been there at all. "Not used to ocean, yes? Fish is all around." They gestured vaguely at the not-so-distant water that sparkled in the morning light. It then motioned for Karys to walk away from the monger's stall to the sound of the swindler's complaints. "Buy from the waterside, not shipyards. Or catch them yourself. These are best."

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys frustration was mounting as the laughter continued between the two individuals. Before the emotion could bleed into true anger or manifest at all, another voice was added to the discourse. This one didn't cause more of an uproar but quieted the brewing storm between the sailor and the fishmonger. The monger began to laugh as the clear bonds of two acquaintances were made apparent. The female sailor even laughed, her good-nature bleeding through. She wished Karys luck on acquiring fish before leaving him in capable hands.

The stranger spoke or sang in a language that was completely foreign to him. It was beautiful but confusing to hear. Karys' annoyance began to melt away as this stranger turned his way. There was a fraction of a moment where the amber-gold gaze was hard and harsh, it reminded Karys of the Potionsmaster's gaze. But then unlike his, this person's gaze softened. They explained to Karys where to find fish, in the seas that surrounded him. He motioned for Karys to follow him away from the monger and told Karys where to find the best fish but most importantly that catching his own would provide him with the freshest ingredients.

"Could you teach me to catch these...fish?" Karys questioned as the pair walked.

His crimson gaze turned to the golden skinned man and met his amber-gold eyes evenly. For a moment, Karys' eyes would shift from his face, it would cascade down his neck to his tattooed arms, and then trace it's way back up. This was not something he tried to conceal, Karys saw no point in it.

"Do we use our hands to catch them?" He questioned further.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

If there was some sort of award for being the least shy being in the galaxy, Nakoa would surely be at least a runner-up. Even for being from a people culturally acclimated toward exposed skin this particular Wrean was utterly unabashed beneath the gaze of others. Karys' freely wandering eyes were hardly noticed nor reacted to.

"I could. But what do I get out of it?" His demeanor wasn't all that serious; the Wrean was mostly joking. A Pureblood on Wrea was already plenty entertaining. And this one, curiously, didn't seem so terrified of water. Just unused to it. The concept of Fish was a mystery to them.

Their long strides carried them quickly toward the docks. Long-legged seabirds perched wherever there was space, massive gliding wings folded neatly by their sides, and long, hooked beaks clacking at sailors who tossed them small morsels of fish and bycatch. "Not hands. You see?" Nakoa pointed toward an older Wrean man who was hefting a good-sized spear with some kind of rope tied to the back end.

Another had a long rod with thin thread and a hook at the end. Others had nets of school fish or cage-traps full of especially aggrieved crustaceans. "We use patience to catch fish. The tools matter less." Eventually they'd arrive at Singhs' particular dock.

A fishing schooner with colorfully dyed and embroidered sails- and a backup engine- floated tied to the docks. "Interested?" A pause. "Do you get motion sick?"

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys followed the handsome Wrean man without really questioning where he was being led to. Karys would chuckle at the Wrean’s quip. A teasing smile of amusement graced his lips as he spoke. “Simple,” Karys replied. “You get a day with me.”

The Wrean led onwards and eventually the pair arrived at a warf. Seabirds ceaselessly circled and cawed, hunting for their next meal. Men sat with different tools, some weapons of war, others strange sticks with string attached. Karys watched curiously as one brought up a fish on the string stick.

“So fish come from the water and are easily deceived?” Karys asked, his head snapping back towards the Wrean.

Karys would listen to the man’s explanation of how they caught fish. They used patience. Karys remembered how Sith hunters would track and catch repto-mammals. By laying in snow banks and ambushing them when they roamed by. It was a very similar concept.

The trip with the Wrean ended at a dock, there were ships here but one in particular caught his eye. It happened to be the vessel the Wrean led him to. Karys leaned out and over the water, examining the boat with an intensity. It was only when his guide offered him a ride did Karys, smile return to his lips.

“I do not get motion sick and yes I would be interested.” Karys replied. “But first tell me, the man with the string that caught the fish, will the one with the spear kill him to take his prize?”

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

"This is valuable?" the handsome Wrean had shot back with a smirk and single raised eyebrow. Nakoa was a difficult person to tease and he always had a few words in the chamber for such occasions.

"Not all fish," they replied with an amused glint in his eye. "But most are simple creatures. Often use bait." Singh pointed out a small metal bucket of wriggling grub-like creatures sitting in slimy seawater as they passed it by. The smell wafting from the bucket on the sea breeze was aggressively fishy.

"Mm, good." Motion sickness would be... unfortunate for everyone involved. Nakoa paused, but oddly enough, they didn't really seem to be judging the Pureblood's question in the way someone else would. As if for emphasis a nearby wrean gave Karys a wary look. "No. Fish are abundant here." A waved hand pointed out the, literally in some cases, piles of fish lying around from net-fishing.

Even here on the docks, all around them were Wreans chopping, scaling, cooking, sorting, packaging, and lifting all the things related to fishing. Still more worked wood, metal, and fibers for ships, or fishing rods, or spears. Others gathered bait and more such tasks. Overall the general vibe was of people working together in their daily vibes. That and the vigorous haggling in strongly-spoken Tethysian.

"When you fall, catch with your forearms, not hands," Nakoa said before he hopped from the dock onto his schooner. It rocked on the water, although the native Tethysian clearly had his sea legs and had no trouble compensation as he strode to one end of the craft. Having clearly never experienced the ocean, Singh was almost certain the Pureblood would lose his footing on a moving sailboat at some point.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

When the Wrean asked if his time was valuable, a small sad smile flickered to life on Karys’ face. He thought of Azar and the time they had shared together before they had been paired together. He thought of the way Azar giggled, how he smiled, the way his hair felt when he played with it. He remembered the way his skin tasted, the look of passion in his eyes, the colors of his tattoos. And then he blinked himself back to reality, unwilling to continue down that road.

“To some it is.” Karys replied, his tone was neutral, his face stoic, but his eyes betrayed him.

Thankfully, his guide continued speaking, he explained to him how fish were caught. They even stopped to look at strange grubs that were writhing in a bucket. Karys leaned down and gently plucked one up between his thumb and index finger. He squeezed it ever so slightly while examining it. Then he popped it into his mouth and bit down.

His eyes went wide immediately. His face turned green. He spat the obliterated creature from his mouth and tried to rid himself of the foul taste.

<How do they get tricked into eating such foul things!> He cursed in Sith.

Karys would spit several more times, only barely preventing himself from dry heaving at the lingering taste. Even as he spat and cleared his mouth, Karys still listened. These people didn’t murder each other over hunting ground disputes or food? Karys would have worn an amused expression if not for the foulness in his mouth. Eventually it cleared and Karys was able to speak once more.

“When I fall?” Karys asked him curiously as he stepped into the boat.

The boat shifted unexpectedly under his weight, Karys stumbled and fell. He turned his head just in time to have his cheek collide with the deck instead of his nose. Narrowly avoiding a third break in just a few months.

“Catch with forearms, not hands.” He groaned as he pushed himself back to his feet.

Karys would wobble to a bench seat and plop down immediately. This was entirely unfamiliar territory to him. Anxious was a kind word to describe how he was feeling. Yet, beneath that anxiety there was also a lingering excitement for something new to experience.

“Where are you taking us?” Karys asked after a moment.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Someone like Nakoa tended toward being hyperaware when it came to the facial expressions and tone of voice of people they were speaking to. The Wrean's face changed only a little, but they'd noticed Karys' change of mood. It even echoed slightly in the Current.

It resounded, ever so little, with a pain of Nakoa's own. "I'm sure it is," he said, this time without the joking undertones. Even so he moved right along to his explanations.

And at some point, Karys ate a baitworm. All of a sudden the Wrean was laughing, a mix of musical notes and crashing waves. Nakoa had no idea what the man said, but it was definitely ur-Kittat. Probably swearing. He'd like to learn Sith swears. "They like it just fine. Guess you're not a fish, ah?" he'd tease good-humoredly before hopping on the boat.

Nakoa was already getting the medkit by the time Karys fell over. When they turned back around it didn't seem the other man got the warning right since he'd pretty clearly his face, not his arms. "Just so." The Wrean strode to Karys, leaned over slightly to visually inspect the impact, and then picked a stick-on bacta pad out of the kit to slap into the Pureblood's hand. Nakoa also handed him a flask of tequila. "For the taste."

"We're going to the coast of a small string of islands not far from here. Always many fish there." Then he untied the boat from the dock and got to working the sails. "You'll get used to the movement. Helps to watch the waves." Nakoa seemed to relax somewhat about the face and shoulders as soon as the busy Tethysian city was farther away behind them.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys watched as the man approached him. He was handsome in his own ways, tall and muscular there was an appeal to him. He leaned forward to inspect where Kary face had broken his fall, while he studied Karys, Karys watched him. Eventually, the human gave him a bacta pad on a stick to tend to the minor injury and a flask of clear liquid, for the taste.

Karys dabbed at his cheek with the pad, it almost immediately soothed the ache. Then he took a swig of the water, except it wasn’t water Karys almost gagged. He stifled it and swished the liquor in his mouth then held the burning liquid in one cheek. His host spoke of the rhythmic rocking do the boat as it broke waves.

Karys didn’t care.

He waited until the Wrean’s back was turned to him and quiet spat the liquor from his mouth. He screwed the cap back onto the flask and extended slowly wobbled his way towards his host. He extended it, offering it back to the man.

“Small string of islands with many fish?” Karys asked rhetorically. “This sounds like a vacation to me.” He teased this perfect stranger. “I am Karys.” He introduced himself with a light tap on his chest.

Karys crimson eyes would turn to the waves, as his host had instructed. He leaned into them slightly, it made standing a little easier. Karys would do his best to stay of the Wrean’s way but he was interested in what he was doing with the sails.

“These catch the wind, yes?” He asked, curiosity evident on his face. “Can you show me how to do this?” Karys asked, intrigued by the concept.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa didn't notice the spitting over the waves. Or maybe they didn't care. Could be both, it was hard to tell with them. They smirked. "And to tourists." He took the flask back and stuffed it into a belt pouch.

"Call me Singh," he replied, apparently unpurturbed by the fact Karys was a complete stranger. Nakoa breathed in the fresh, crisp, salty ocean air and slowly exhaled. For all his troubles it was always nice to be home. "Just so." Amber-gold eyes turned to the Pureblood. Outlanders usually just hired native guides to handle the boats and he wanted to learn.

"I can." Nakoa pointed at the sail and traced the shape in the air. "It catches wind at an angle, see?" Rather than explaining the rope-pulley system they physically demonstrated, turning the sail until the crosswind billowed the colorful sailcloth outward. They placed a hand on a nearby lever. "This controls the rudder. A-" Nakoa paused.

He then held his hand up flat and moved it like a rudder. "Flat plank. Changes how the water moves beneath. Turns the boat." Then they stepped away and pointed in a direction. "Now you try. Go that way."

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys chuckled at the Wrean’s reply. So a handsome stranger is taking me on vacation. Karys wondered if Azar would be jealous or envious of this little excursion. Ultimately, Karys decided he wouldn’t dwell on it, he would simply enjoy his time on a boat with a perfect stranger. Or he would have.

Singh.

It was a name that so effortlessly rolled from Karys’ tongue. It was an easy name to remember as well. Karys smirked as Singh began to teach him how to sail. He listened as Singh explained what the sails did and showed how both they and a rudder worked. As Karys listened, he realized the similarities between a boat and a solar sail powered vessel. While it wasn’t a 1 to 1 match, it was close enough that Karys could grasp the basics.

When Singh stepped back and instructed him to try, Karys got to work. He worked the sails to ensure they caught a solid gust. He then tended to the wheel while ensuring he kept the wind in his sails. To anyone who didn’t know Karys’ understanding of solar sail powered ships, he’d seem like a natural. A smile of pride etched across Karys’ face, this thrilled him.

His crimson gaze cast itself back to Singh for a moment.

“It reminds me of a solar sail.” He explained. “Except instead of catching solar rays, you are hunting the breeze.” He continued. “I can see why people enjoy this.”

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa, for their part, had no idea how to work solar sails and wouldn't touch the things. They were beautiful but seemed hilariously impractical. So, they didn't link the two skills at all.

Instead it just looked like Karys was a quick learner. Nakoa didn't miss the seeming familiarity with the sail itself. It was the ropes and gears, the motion of the ocean, that the Pureblood seemed to ponder most. Interesting.

"Yes, that's the way." Karys wasn't perfect at it but he was moving the correct heading. No trouble at all. Nakoa settled on a seat, arms leaned back against the railing. He grinned, causing sharp fangs to become evident. "No idea about solar sails," they said. "Reading the wind is vital. Hardly predictable."

Karys was clearly proud of his success. Meanwhile, Nakoa retrieved a cigarra from somewhere and lit it, exhaling a cloud of herbacious smoke that blew away in the ocean wind. Wind that soon shifted. Salty sea sprayed upward in a fine mist across the deck as the schooner dipped slightly, then righted itself again.

"See ahead. That line of green and yellow is our destination." It was at least an hour or two out and, frankly, it was barely visible. The sail subtly flagged. Nakoa said nothing of it. He was in no rush and wanted to see if Karys would correct on his own.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys had quickly figured out how to work the pulley system to control the sails. However, it was figuring out how the rudder worked was initially difficult but he did eventually grasp the process. Karys’ crimson eyes turned back to regard Singh as he spoke and gave instruction. Karys felt the wind on the ocean shift in direction, one of the sails lost its billow and drooped.

Karys frowned at the sail.

Singh was right, the wind was unpredictable at best. Karys began working the pulley system but completely disregarding the the wheel of the vessel. The boat would steadily begin sailing off course as Karys’ inexperience bled through. Eventually he got the win back in the sail and started trying to course correct to where Singh had pointed out.

It was hard work, only amplified by the heat and humidity of the ocean. Karys felt himself over heating as he worked turning his attentions from the sails and to guiding the vessel. Swear quickly drenched his shirt, he tugged it off of his frame, and draped it over his shoulder.

The wind felt good on his skin. But it did little to cool him off.

“This is nothing like Solar Sails.” He called back to Singh. “My world doesn’t have oceans like this.” He mused aloud, his attention focused on the green and yellow line Singh had pointed to. “We have thermal seas and lakes.”

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa was impressed. Most outlanders fumbled and flailed at the helm of Wrean ships. They wouldn't have expected such a quick study from one who'd never seen the sea. In fact, Karys adapted well to Nakoa's habitually barebones instructions. All the Wrean had done was tell him what did what and give a heading.

The sun above was hot, while the ocean wind and spray were cold and wet. Nakoa was comfortable in this weather and enjoyed the wind blowing through their braided hair. But, at the same, sitting still and watching was quickly getting boring.

Then Karys took off his shirt. But it wasn't so much working muscle that Singh noted, but rather the arcing lightning scars that ran over the Sith's back. Amber-golds flicked from the marks to the back of Karys' head when he called back. "Thermal lakes? Surprised it's not a tourist spot," he joked with a gravelly chuckle before standing from his seat.

"My turn, sailor boy. Have a sit." At which point they'd take the helm. Dense, compact muscle across scarred and tattooed arms flexed as Singh gripped both rudder and pulley cable to keep the schooner on course. A gust of wind whipped dark braids behind them. Cigarra smoke billowed from between their lips as they spoke. Wood and rope creaked and strained atop the sea.

"So. What's the plan for your caught fish?"

Although Nakoa appeared focused on the sea, he was also listening.

 

[Karys]

Karys glanced over his shoulder as Singh spoke. A deep chuckle escaped his lips in reply and he shook his head. “They probably would but my home is Arctic and filled with predators.” He playfully explained. “Those things tend to not attract sightseers.”

When Singh came up to take control of the helm, Karys would give him a momentary scowl. He was enjoying himself. But ultimately, he would resign control over to Singh without tussle or audible complaint. However, Karys didn’t wander far from the helm, instead he stood mere paces behind the Wrean and watched them expertly steer the craft.

While Karys’ gaze did linger in his muscular back for a moment, he ultimately found himself watching as Singh worked the pulley and steered at the same time. He was beyond impressed at how fluid the Wrean was at this, years of experience clearly evident in each movement. Karys couldn’t help but smile in awe of a man at work in his craft. But his host’s voice drew him from his rumination and back to the present.

“I cook.” He replied. “I wanted to experiment with fish in my dishes and heard Wrea was the best place to find them.” He continued. “I only source ingredients from the best worlds and never buy second hand.” He explained.

@Mr. Teatime