[SE] Salty and Sweet

The mermanta - steely-haired, dark-skinned-and-scaled - had finished his hot chocolate and began to explore the market - or at least, as much as he could of it. He had seen the slowly mechanism in the distance, and watched the coral-headed animals pulling the boats that skimmed over frozen water with interest but now he was focused on perusing the collection of trinkets, treasures, souvenirs, and food on display.

Or at least, those stalls selling things closest to the shore.

The cold waterfront had its share of vendors of all varieties, but the burgeoning bon vivant was particularly interested in the smells of warm and toasty finger foods that drifted over the water. Unfortunately, the stall he had his eye on was a little farther from the water than he could easily reach.

"Excuse me," he rumbled hopefully, looking around for a passing drylander who might be of assistance.

How did one show forgiveness, or a lack of vengeful notions towards those who’d wronged them? Lena wasn’t certain, and could only hazard a few guesses. She wasn’t even sure if she was extending pardons or exonerations - not for the slaying of her people (her sister) and the destruction of her home. Maybe a sign that she wasn’t like them – purposeful, a clear and precise message; kindness extended even when it rightly shouldn’t be.

Was that bitter, in its own way?

Shaking her head, and rambling onwards, the youth roamed into the confines of the Boondocks once more. Notions were heralded towards sending some sort of message wrapped amongst and amidst the pending, anonymous gift – threading her way towards a more Old God focused source of materials along a kiosk - but noticing someone familiar along the waves. [say]"Oh, hello Hadama,"[/say] she mentioned warmly. [say]"Are you looking for something?"[/say]

A familiar face, a welcome voice. The mermanta's expression didn't change much from its usual calm neutrality but emerald green eyes lit with warmth - and relief.

"Hello, Lena," he greeted, voice a low rumble of pleasure at her appearance among the many strangers in the market. "I would like to try the food from that stall." He nodded towards the one set a ways back from the shore; roasted candied nuts were being made there, turned on a hot pan over a fire and rolled in cinnamon and sugar before being scooped into paper cones for customers.

Alas, the merman could not reach it from water. "Would you trade this for me?" He held up an unusual shell in pristine condition, creamy white and dotted with gold and blue spots with a delicate swirling structure.

After pleasantries, her eyes fixed on the stall he’d clearly been eyeing, but couldn’t reach on his own. The aroma of the wondrous concoction of food wafted over, and she could imagine why he seemed intent on accessing such delights. [say]“Ah, I don’t blame you,”[/say] smiling sweetly, with a knack for sugary concessions of her own.

She needed to meander over that way anyway, returning back to kiosks with a clearer head and a better picture of what she needed to snag too. [say]“Sure,”[/say] and her gaze followed and traced the beautiful, unusual shell, hands lacing over the creamy, smooth texture of it. [say]“Beautiful. How many would you like?”[/say] Figuring, most likely, he’d be able to swindle quite a few of the treats with the artifact.

Even now it seemed like he didn't quite have the knack for knowing what some of his undersea trinkets were worth in the drylands. He considered the shell - much rarer here than it would be among his own people, where such things were far more common - and then tilted his head at Lena in decision. "Two," he said, meeting her eyes with the ghost of a smile in his own. "To share." A courier's fee, in a sense.

"And one of the hot fruit drinks?" More fascinating flavors that were impossible to experience underwater. "Is there anything you are looking for?" It was, admittedly, a far nicer - and more fun - market than the fish market where they had met.

Not one to presume, the youth nodded, studying the shell in her hand for a moment more before raising her eyes back to the merman. [say]“Sure,” [/say]gaze wandering back to the kiosks, the aromas and perfumes of the market glossing over the purpose of her visit here again, before LongNight pressed her back into the confines of stone and Celestine gardens. [say]“I was hoping…,”[/say] and she drifted off, as if the notions were foolish, and she didn’t really want them aired. [say]“To snag something for an individual I don’t really care for. An extension of peace and goodwill, I suppose,”[/say] shrugging her shoulders, lacking an explanation for it.

Besides that strange intonation of bitterness residing behind her teeth; a rancor she’d yet to displace. Her head tilted vaguely, fingers clutching over the artifact again. [say]“Do you have any suggestions?”[/say]

He floated in the cold waves, patient as the rocks as Lena considered her answer. When it came he tilted his head in a grave nod of understanding. That she asked for advice was a compliment he met with full consideration. He rested his arms on the shore as he thought over what she had said - and how it had been said.

"I have done something similar, recently," he admitted slowly. "I chose a dessert. A human delicacy... though one that would not go well in saltwater. I put it in a nice box," he added, conscientiously. He met Lena's gaze with a questioning tilt of his chin. "A gift of food or drink, perhaps?"

Hopeless and lost, the souls of many long departed whisper their death rattles on the wind. Hope is gone for these already-dead, but still their screams linger.

Gods, it's so dark.

Her head dipped while she listened, eyes casually sauntering back and forth over the rows and rows of kiosks, the steady beam of lights, the glow of halogen accessories dotting the ivory landscape. There was a slight cringe and grimace at the advice, and only because it’d be more than a passive aggressive stance, when all notions and things were considered. [say]“This one is for an Ascended,”[/say] and she shrugged her shoulders, wondering if Hadama would catch her meaning – uncertain how matters were scorched, unsettled, or neutral between merpeople and the New God’s creations. [say]“Maybe I’ll just peruse then.” [/say]

Thereafter she sauntered, giving a little wave, ensuring she could snag at the hot, fruity drinks, the roasted candied nuts, before picking at something else along the periphery.

Her words struck a memory then, and he considered her for long moments in silence. Stormbreak, Ascended, and the fall of a great structure... He inclined his head deeply to her in respect for her patience and forbearance with those who had done her people so much hurt. "I know little of them," he admitted. Rumors and hearsay; he was unaware that he had met one once beneath the moonlight.

The mermanta settled in to wait along the shore, emerald eyes roving where fins could not to spy out more treats and treasures for sale at nearby booths. The array was fascinating and delightful - if sometimes confusing - and he was glad he had made the journey to experience this oddly endearing seasonal human custom.

Perhaps ignorance was bliss in Hadama’s case – but Lena left the notions behind as she gathered their materials and goods. Better not to dwell on it too hard, within moments and lands transfixed in some air, some vestiges, of tranquility and serenity. Placing her wares in her basket, snagging at a few pretty baubles and trinkets to pass along anonymously to those in the Grounds, and ensuring Hadama had his treats, she made her way back over to the merman.

[say]“Here you are,”[/say] she smiled, passing them over. From there, they could partake in the sweets, confections, and conversation, before meandering back to their respective homes.

[FIN]