• Closed • The Things We Do

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○

102nd Trial of Vhalar, Arc 716

“You sarding bitch!” She hissed out, clawing at Qyona's arm whose grip only tightened.
“I'm fine with that,” Was her answer, “You'll be dead and I'll be the sarding bitch who takes your money and your slave. Did you seriously think marking that harlot would save him? You're such a foolish wench, Freya...”
She gasped and tried to kick, tried to punch, and claw, and fight, but it was all in vain. Freya was chocking and while she attempted to free herself, Qyona simply tightened her grip, “Just die, sarding foul-born...” She grunted.
Freya opened black eyes to the glittering sea in front of her, rubbing her temples as the pain in her left shoulder throbbed. She turned her head and saw Caed idly steering the ship, his eyes showing he too was away in some far off place. The ship wasn’t moving very quickly. They’d collapse some of the sails so Haraji could take up fishing for dinner, but because her wound prevented her from doing—well, much of anything, Freya was left at the rod while the other Biqaj went to take care of her supposed responsibilities.
In that moment, she loathed Qyona for doing this to her… The captain could hardly look at any of them, knowing that the command she was suppose to keep over this ship had been compromised. Did she even have any or was it just an illusion?
The rod gave a tug for a moment. Then… nothing.
Was that what death was? She was bleeding out, had passed out and came close to the cusp of death and yet, she felt nothing but shame. Even Wendell was giving her strange looks. She didn’t want his pity. She didn’t want anyone’s pity.
Sighing, Freya reeled in the line and saw bait was missing from the hook. Frowning, she slipped her left arm from the sling and reached to grab more fish guts to pierce onto the metal. Then, with a hiss of pain, she cast the line out.
“Sarding bitch.” Freya muttered under her breath, looking to the waters below. She should have kept Qyona around to use for bait. The fish might have enjoyed her more…
Just then, a sharp tug at the rod saw the woman grasp with both hands and, out of reflex, she pulled. Gasping and nearly dropping the thing into the water, Freya pinned the rod between her body and the railed, holding onto the middle of the rod with her right hand while her left dangled by her side, throbbing.
Whatever was at the end must have been big because the rod was slowly being pulled from her grasp. “I need someone..!” The woman finally called, “I can’t hold this fish, it’s fighting too much.”

Word Count: 457

[Wendell]

Caed was teaching Wendell again, but this time it was a lesson in measuring the speed the boat was traveling, a concept Wendell was struggling to catch onto with his limited history of mathematics. “It's not numbers, not really,” Caed told him, “well maybe a little.” He held up a piece of wood shaped like a slice of pie. “This is called a common log,” he told Wendell, “a segment of a circle weighted on the bottom with lead plugs, these help it stay upright in the water.”

Wendell leaned against the back of the boat, watching Caed, listening intently.

“Every fourteen and a half metres, approximately, we mark the rope tied to the log with a knot. We throw the log into the water, like so,” he demonstrated, “let the rope run through your hand and count to twentyeight. when you reach twenty eight, you take hold of the rope to stop it from unraveling.” Caed coached the man in his counting. “One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three.”

Wendell carried on counting, watching as the rope ran through his hands and the small, triangular piece of wood got further and further away, bobbing up and down with the sea. When they reached twenty eight, Wendell stopped counting and closed his hand around the rope. “What now?” he asked.

“See these knots,” Caed pointed.

“Three of them,” Wendell reported.

“That means we are traveling at three knots, or three nautical miles per break.”

“How accurate is this system?” Wendell inquired.

“It all depends on your counting, master that, and you will master this,” he smiled.

“Should I pull the rope back in?”

Caed nodded.

Wendell pulled on the rope and found it very difficult to retrieve. Caed just laughed. “What?” The slave hissed. “Is this some kind of trick?”

“Give it a really firm tug,” Caed said, “the plug will release and the log will fall over in the water and make it easier to retrieved.”

Wendell did as he was told, and sure enough, it worked.

“Help!” He heard, and looked across to the deck where Freya was struggling with her rod.

Caed took the rope from Wendell’s hands, and the slave hurried onto the deck to help as best he could with Freya’s line. “It's a big one?” he asked, trying to use her language of Rakahi.

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○

She was about to call out again, her right arm getting tired from the back and forth of the fish. It would pull hard enough to where the rod and the line would start to slip out of her grasp before easing off just long enough to grip the pole again, but not enough to get a good hold on it.
In all honesty, Freya was surprised that Wendell took the rod so readily from her and, gladly, she offered it with exhausted arms. Helping her left arm back into the slip, the biqaj held it to her chest while speaking to him. “Yes,” She answered back in the same language, “You want to make it tired, don’t fight that thing to come out of the water just yet or you’ll break the line.” A thin finger pointed to the tense line. “Let the line out a bit, then start to pull it back in. If you feel it fighting, just hold onto the line, don’t pull.”
The woman watched him, black eyes looking to the water every now and then to see if the fish would surface. As the bits ticked on, the fish pulled less and less on the line. It was then that she turned back to him and tapped on the rod, “Pull the fish in now, it should be weak enough.”
After a bit of struggle between man and fish, the creature finally surfaced and, pleasantly, Freya smiled when he hoisted the thing onto the deck.
“Hah!” She laughed as the large, oddly glowing thing flopped, “We’ve got a Scorra fish, what luck.”
“What?” Haraji commented, looking at the fish before he too was shaking his head. “Will you at least share the eggs?”
Black eyes narrowed but the smiled never disappeared, “Maybe.”

Turning back to Wendell, Freya pointed to a bucket off to the side of him, “Smash it in the skull with the bucket quickly. Clean and painless.” While he did as she asked, her hand reached for the dagger she kept on her person, the one Qyona had used to off her, and bent down to cut a line in the fish. It was difficult one handed, so again, Freya removed the sling and leaned gentle on her arm as it pressed into the dead fish. Holding back the groan of pain, her other hand shook as it cut the stomach of the Scorra fish open all the way to it’s tail.
Twisting and sliding the blade within the opening, she cut through a few more layers of tissue before round, blue eggs spilled forth from the creature’s abdomen. Coated in a clear liquid, Freya reached for a small handful of the eggs and popped them in her mouth while Haraji watched from above her. “You’re going to get addicted to those.” He told.
“We’ll see,” She retorted, throwing back anything handful of the delicious drugs. When she looked to Wendell again, she laughed at his expression and held a few of the eggs out. “Here, take companion. Sweet eggs. These fish are drugs.”
“Scorra Fish,” She rolled the world in Rakahi off her tongue, so that he knew what it was. “Drugs.” Again, she pointed to the eggs in his hand. “Takes bits for eggs to work but drug is good.”
Looking to the other biqaj on the ship, Freya pointed to the dead Scorra fish, “Am I allowed to take care of this or are you taking this from me too?”
Frowning, he took hold of the fish and shook the rest of the eggs it carried out of it before hoisting the fish up into his arms and carrying it further up the deck to begin scaling it. “There better be some of those left after dinner.”
Taking hold of the bucket, Freya started to scoop the large pile of blue eggs into the container. “Companion want more?”

Word Count: 644

[Wendell]

When Freya spoke more than a few words of Rakahi, and at speed, they were lost on Wendell, who had managed to gather a few words, but wasn't quite at the stage of forming full sentences yet. The excitement of the catch, however, saw that it didn't matter, as Freya’s enthusiasm caused him to work hard to get the fish in, even with all his inexperience.

By the time the fish was on the boat, something the woman had called a Scorra, Wendell felt as if his arms were about to fall off. He smiled, perhaps like he would for a friend, if only for a moment before the smile was gone.

“Drugs?” he repeated in Rakahi, if he recognised any word it was that one, especially in this ship. “The eggs are drugs?” What do they do, he wondered, what was their effect?

Wendell took the handful offered to him and downed half of them in one gulp before chewing the few that remained. They had a strange taste and texture, one he wouldn't soon forget. “More?” Wendell challenged Freya, he wasn't much of a fisher, but where there was one fish, there was bound to be more of the same, right?

“Bait, what bait do you use for Scorra?” he asked her, and set about following the instructions she provided, baiting the hooks once more. If this Scorra was a prize aboard the ship, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try and bring in more of them.

The man's fingers started to tingle and he wasn't sure if it was due to the strain he had experienced gripping the rod so tightly or the drugs Freya had offered him, if the fish eggs really were as she said they were. Why else would Haraji take off with the fish so quickly? They were all reasonably well fed on their white food and fish diets.

“You shouldn't let him take from you,” Wendell pointed with a glance. “Show me how to cut a fish?” And by cut, he meant fillet a fish.

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○

“Right.” Freya answered, smiling. Wendell was starting to get the hang of the phonetics used within the Rakahi language. Though his sentence structure was a bit off most of the time, the few words he did convey to her in crooked accent were almost spot on in pronunciation. She couldn’t judge him, however, because her Common was still blocky and butchered even after how long she’d lived in Ne’haer.
The biqaj Captain was even more impressed when her slave took the handful of drugs offered to him and threw them back without much reluctance. So he liked drugs? Her brow scrunched even as her smile remained. Chuckles bubbled up at the odd expression he made when he tasted the eggs and, as she finished dumping the leftovers into the bucket, he called to her with challenge.
“More?” Freya questioned only a moment before her thoughts followed his and this time, she outright laughed. “Yes, okay.”
Pointing to the bucket left by the rod, Freya instructed Wendell to skewer some of the fish guys within the container onto the hook. “Wait,” Stopping him, she pointed to the knot on the line, holding the hook there. “New one, Companion.” Using the dagger, Freya held it up and cut the hook from the line. “Get line off hook.”
When he’d done that, she took the hook. “Watch, Companion. Knot I show you.” She took some of the line on the rod and held it out before looping it in on itself and sliding the loop through the hole on the hook with shaky hands. “Palomar Knot.” Her Rakahi rolled, emphasizing it again so he would know what it was and how it sounded. “Palomar knot.”
Tying the loop around the rest of the line, she strung the loop through the hook and pulled, securing the hook with double line to the rod. “Strong knot, help keep fish to line. Now, guts. Scorra eat small fish. Anything small. Guts are better— smell better in water. More fish want to eat guts.” Taking the guts from him, she pierced them on before handing the rod back. “Cast out. Wait for fish to eat.”
Then she waited with him by the rail, bent over slightly so she could watch the ship glide over the waves and feel the wind push her brown locks back.
She sighed blissfully and closed her eyes, feeling as though her mind and body were being beckoned to the clouds. The eggs were dissolving into her system by now and slowly, the tips of her fingers and toes started to warm, then numb. The most notable change was her attitude, though the drug had yet to truly establish the high that it was known for.
“Take?” Freya questioned Wendell when he spoke moments later. Watching his eyes point in the direction Haraji stumbled off in, the woman laughed lightly. “I know, it’s shameful, isn’t it? He takes from me so he can care for me.” Her gaze looked back to his own and very noticeably, black orbs suddenly bled into swirling gold and red. “It’s sweet, I suppose.”
“If you catch the next one without my help, I will show you how to clean and cut it. I’ll even give you most of the eggs from it.” She wagered with a daring glint in her eyes, “But if you break the line, you’ll have to give your share of the Scorra Eggs to Haraji.” A wide smile painted her lips, “And, you’ll have to sleep on the deck for the whole night.”

Word Count: 590

[Wendell]

There was something incredibly seductive about the Rakahi language, or perhaps it was just the way Freya rolled her letters, Wendell thought to himself. He watched her work the line and undid old twine from the hook she had severed from the rod, rethreading it once the old stuff was undone.

“Palomar knot,” he tested the word slowly, repeating it to himself under his breath, testing the way his tongue and lips had to move in order to create the right sounds.

Wendell used a knife to cut the guts of the fish up, slicing the foul smelling innards in long, thin ribbons that the fish might go for, or small diamond shapes that would move with the current of the tide. Casting was a challenge in itself, but as Freya had set her own challenge, and he didn't much like the idea of sleeping under the stars on the deck of the boat where he would be exposed to the elements, Wendell cast again and again until Freya seemed to approve.

Now he was really feeling the effects of the drugs, and try as he may, he couldn't help but smile, falling back into a relaxed state that saw all the lines on his face soften. It wasn't until the rod was almost ripped out of his hands by the take of a fish, that Wendell jumped to life, leaning hard against the rail as he fought to bring it in.

“Sarding fish!” he hissed, throwing his weight back in order to try and gain some line, only to be jerked against the rail again.

The green-blue tail of a fish slapped against the surface, visible for a split second before it was gone again. “Oh!” Wendell’s face lit up, “did you see that!” he looked back at Freya, smiling, despite his dislike.

Another struggle and the man managed to bring the fish in a little closer. The muscles in his arms were strained, flexing beneath the well-sunned flesh. “Net?” he asked Freya without looking at her, his concentration dedicated solely to bringing the fish in. It jumped from the water again and this time Wendell was sure his eyes were not playing tricks on him, it was another Scorra.

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○

The woman watched Wendell cast and cast again, scrunching her gaze at the odd way his wrist flicked the line out until he managed a fairly decent throw. Though, even after he’d satisfied her attention with the cast, she still watched him— watched the way his hair moved in the breeze, the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly, the flick of his eyes as they moved over the water. His collarbone and shoulders as he adjusted the rod, biceps and forearms flexing ever so slightly. The way his torso pushed his chest and stomach out when he breathed, defining the small lines of a built body against a shirt a size too big for him.
Her eyes traveled lower, trying to study another outline and trying to guess how impressive he might be with a flirtatious smile on her lips as her eyes traveled back up to his expression. Though Haraji’s features caught her attention and Freya realized that he’d been watching her check Wendell out from afar. He did nothing more than shake his head, causing Freya to straighten as he went back to his duties maintaining the ship.
Should she say something to him? No… Freya could easily brush it off on the drugs having influenced her mind. There was nothing to discuss… Slowly relaxing against the rail once more, Freya watched the water with unfocused eyes until such pleasant lightness eased her lids to close. How long had it been when the sound of Wendell’s cursing sprung the woman awake with a racing heart? Even as she looked around, though, everything was brighter. The colors looked too vibrant and somehow the moved like the waves of the ocean did. Freya stumbled back and sucked in a breath, her eyes jetting to the man and his massive form, holding onto the rod as tension drew on the line. But how was the line tense when it waved loosely against the sky?
“Oh?!” Gripping the rail, Freya leaned herself gracelessly against it and watched as Wendell pulled too tightly on the line. The fish sprung up from the water with a jerk of its tail before fighting back down into the dark depths. “Hahah! That’s a gem!” The woman laughed and dipped her head, the Scorra fish looking like a moving crystal of blue rainbows under her eyes. “We caught a moving gem.”
When she looked back at him, his smile was radiant enough to keep her staring oddly until his masculine voice beckoned her to fetch a net. “Yes,” She agreed lightly, “Net.” And yet, she stayed fixed there. The sound of the fish coming closer to the ship turned her eyes away from him to the water, suddenly realizing the task requested of her. “Oh! Net!” Scrambling away from the rail, Freya let out a noise in her haste and slipped on the deck, landing on her hands and knees before pushing herself up to fetch the hemp net and a hook to pull it up with. Unsteady, she found the netting moments later, though coming up with no hook until Haraji held it out for her.
“You high yet?” His straight face asked outright.
“We caught a gem!”
“Yep.” The man followed her back over to their crew member, helping to ready the net before Freya cast it out. It flopping onto the waves right next to the Scorra fish. “Pull gem in net! Pull!” Excited hands patted Wendell’s arm, pulling him closer to her as if that would aid him in dragging the fish along. In time, the fish managed to get caught in the net and, with little thought, Freya lifted the line with the hook attached to it, thus the net, with all the strength she could muster. As the netting was pulled from the water, Freya reached out a little too far to hoist it the rest of the way up and nearly fell over the rail.
“Woah!” Haraji exclaimed, grabbing a hold of her legs, “Freya, what the sarding fates?!”
Once she was pulled up, she dragged the rest of the netting and the fish over the rail with her and allowed it to flop on the deck, water dripping every. The biqaj laughed outright and stumbled back, a hand pushed into her hair as she bent over and looked at the fish Wendell caught. “How Companion catch gem?!” Her odd laughter danced from her as she approached him and pointed to his catch, leaning against his arm. “Companion holding out from crew. I knew!”
“You both are high.” Haraji bent down to remove the netting while Freya sank to her knees over the fish to look at it. “Oh, shit. It’s a fish.” Throwing her head back, another bellow came from her before it eased into a light groan and she reached for the dagger she carried. With clumsy effort, she cracked the hilt over the Scorra’s head several times.
When Haraji bent down to get it, Freya held a hand up to him. “No, I teach Companion.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“Yes!” Rather rudely, Freya waved him off and curled a finger at the man who caught the ‘gem’, beckoning him to her. When he sat down, she would start to wave the dagger around, making small jabs in the air, direct at the fish’s cavity.
“Companion cut here to here.” Again, she gestured toward making a cut from the middle section of the fish, down to just before it’s tail and ‘other bits’. “No cut more. No cut deep.” Handing the blade to him, Freya crawled around the fish with a goofy grin and leaned over his shoulder to watch him cut the fish. Her hair brushed against his skin and when he would look at her, dilated eyes would look back with a relaxed smile on her lips.
When he would start to cut, she’d watch, his hand steadier than her’s it seemed until he’d done what she instructed and paused for her guidance. Freya leaned against him, her arm coming to rest over his as she guided the blade with his hand. “This is the pouch with the eggs.” She told in Rakahi, “Cut here,” The blade pierced into wet tissue, “And pull gently.” Guiding his hand till she couldn’t reach anymore, Freya dropped it back to the deck and watched as teal colored eggs spilled from the cavity of the fish.
Sighing blissfully, Freya bent her arms till her body laid upon the deck and she rolled over to look at the sky. “Good job, Companion.” She smiled, “Feel proud. Good fish.”
All the while, Freya hadn’t noticed that she reopened her wound. Silver slowly bled into the cream colored tunic she wore. To a sober mind, it would appear as though she was bleeding, but the effects of the Scorra eggs would make it seem as though and shirt and arm might slowly be turning into gemstone, glittering and refracting light in sparkling color.

Off Topic

Hey there, so Wendell might notice Freya reopened her wound since he didn't have handfuls of the Scorra Eggs like she did, but that's up to you!

Word Count: 1162

[Wendell]

Strength waning under the influence of the Scorra eggs, Wendell felt his body fold against the rail of the ship and couldn't help but laugh, not too sure why he was even doing so. Was he hallucinating, he wondered, his depth perception causing waves and sky to meet in a way that made him wobbly on his feet. The fish was netted, but not before they had almost lost Freya to the sea. Haraji had saved the day and Wendell could only smile. Pleased with his efforts.

The captain talked him through the process of filleting a fish, and Wendell did his utmost to follow her instructions precisely, cutting where she told him to. He had caught the creature’s innards and made a bit of a mess on the fish, but much was to be expected of a beginner. The egg sack was removed with care, and Wendell devoured another greedy handful of the eggs before Haraji came to snatch the rest of those away too. It was he who had noticed Freya's bleeding arm, Wendell far too gone now to be of any service, the new stain of fresh Biqaj blood sparkling like small gems in the sunlight.

Haraji returned with something to wrap the woman's shoulder, and Wendell watched intently, holding the bandage in place as he fixed it with what he could only imagine was a pin. A ripple moved through the deck of the boat like a stone thrown into water, and Wendell rolled onto his back beside the woman, staring up at the cloudless sky. He stretched his arms out to try and keep his balance, feeling as if he might fall away from the deck and into the endless blue overhead. His fingers brushed Freya’s, and remained in place, crossed over her own.

Wendell closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, the sky was painted mauve. The sun shone green and all around them everything appeared more vibrant than it was moments ago. Wendell shut his eyes tight, pitch black soon replaced with electric, smoky colours that started at the edge of his vision and slowly mottled what he saw. His heart was racing and slow at the same time, and the world was spinning, or was it just the movement of the sea beneath them. The butterflies in his stomach were a mixture of fear and excitement, but try as he may, he could not quiet the nagging sensation.

“Good fishing,” Wendell said, the words slow, as if they had been contemplated for some time. “Good teacher.”