I make this look good

JACK

There are times when even Jack needs to take a break from the Ark, from the strings he pulls, the contacts he holds and the business he runs. This morning is one such time - the smuggler has headed out just as dawn crests the horizon, sprinkling gold on the waves and setting them aflame with fingers of light. Armed with only a small knife and a net, he's taken a dip in the shallows off the Ahi Coast.

The smuggler wears nothing but a pair of shorts and a choker around his throat containing a cloud manta jewel. The ability to breathe underwater whilst undertaking a task like this is advantageous to say the least - and hell, he's keen not to almost drown again. As for what the smuggler is doing? It's an old pastime borne of an impoverished childhood in Torchline; scouring he sea floor for treasures, crustaceans and anything else that looks like it might be interesting or valuable.

So far, Jack has snagged a purse that's been dropped into the water, a pair of spectacles, a few bright crabs and a rusted brooch. He surfaces near a large, flat rock off the coast, that he might enjoy the morning sun and cool the burning in his muscles.

I came for your stories, I stayed for your beauty.

Tenor found himself at the Ahi Coast more often than not. It wasn't uncommon for Tenor to find a new muse along the shore. His songs had been lacking lately. Things were getting too calm amongst the mouth breathers. Everything was calm in Caido. Living in the ocean though, Tenor knew better. His people didn't fear storms, they feared the calm before the storm - this, Tenor thought was that calm.

A brief moment before the chaos. What that chaos was, he wasn't sure. It really didn't matter in the end to him. He'd hear about it from a local, another muse  to add to the collection. The mouth breathers were easy. Most came to him, a simple wink, a toothy smile, and they were his. They'd speak tales of Caido, and its happenings.

It wasn't someone on the coast that caught his eye this time though. Below the waves, below the water a man swam... and swam... and swam. He wasn't a merfolk, yet managed to stay below the sea for far longer than any mouth breather should. Tenor dove below the water, swimming towards the stranger. Who was he, and why was he below the sea?

Tenor had seen mouth breathers swim before, but never like this. This was something different. It excited the singer down to his fins.

TENOR

JACK

Jack is about to haul himself out of the water and onto the rock to sun himself dry when thoughts intrude on his peace. The captain freezes, half in the water, the net on the rocks and the knife in his hand. Blue eyes narrow and he turns, pining his gaze on the part of the water where someone is swimming towards him. When they surface, of course, it will be to the sight of Jack holding the knife aloft, looking none too impressed.

"Hi," he says, the words half a growl. "Fancy meetin' you all the way out here. Can I help you?" At least there's no risk of drowning or any other water related mischief with the merfolk today. "Kinda busy, if you didn't notice." He hauls himself out of the waves at last, up onto the rock.

I came for your stories, I stayed for your beauty.

He was in a rush? The man seemed annoyed by Tenor's approach. Who did he think he was steal from his people? Steal was used in the weakest of senses, technically things left in the water weren't the merfolks entirely, even if some of them liked to think of it as their property.

Tenor stared at the man's haul. "I'm not sure, are you sure it's not you who needs help?" The merman used his tail to splash the potential thief. "Those are some mighty shiny things you have there." A thought bubbled into Tenor's mind.

"You weren't planning on leaving with those were you? The knife in his hand worried Tenor, but even still. Perhaps the man infront of him was gullible enough, or dumb enough to make a trade. Tenor needed more inspiration, something noteworthy to sing about. The wave had been bringing him nothing of interest lately. Nothing but smell of fish.

TENOR

JACK

Jack's eyes narrow like shards of blue ice in the water, his grip on the knife growing imperceptibly tighter. "Nah," he rumbles. "I don't need no help at all. An' they're very shiny, yeah." Except the crabs - obviously. "Found 'em on the bottom of the ocean. Too bad someone else didn't get there first." Thoughts spark and flicker across his telepathy, and though Jack doesn't detect any inherently violent thoughts in the Mer, that doesn't mean that things won't take a turn.

"Actually," he says, hauling himself out of the water properly, "that's exactly what I was expectin' to do. Why - there a problem?" Tilting his head, he waits for the Mer to make the next move. There can be a fight about it. Or a discussion. The choice is his.

I came for your stories, I stayed for your beauty.

The man was cheeky - Tenor's favorite. They were far more fun to talk to than the typical mouth breathers. "It really is a shame..."

Tenor floated on his back, as he swam in circles around the rock Jack rested on. "Usually we don't just let mouth-breathers run off with the ocean's treasures." Tenor hummed as he continued to swim. He turned his attention to the man, he wasn't sure if he believed what Tenor was saying.

"But we could make a trade?" Tenor stopped swimming, resting his arms on the rock. His eyes widened, as his smile pulled into a smirk. "If you want to tell me a story about those eyes, and what they've seen." Tenor stared into Jack's crystal blue eyes. "I'm sure they'd have some stories to share."

TENOR

JACK

"Good thing I ain't a mouth-breather," Jack drawls with a hint of contempt in his voice; as a smuggler with links to the Merfolk, he's beyond such slander, he thinks. "Call me Jack. I'm a sailor," he informs him, leaning an arm on his knee and soaking up the sun on the rock as the Mer circles him. Jack still doesn't sense any immediate threat in his new companion, but that doesn't mean he lets the net out of his grip.

A trade, though? That sounds more like his kind of thing, the captain locking eyes with the Mer in the water and letting a slow smile creep across his face. "I can do that," he murmurs, shifting a bit on the rock and leaning forward a bit with a grin. "Ever seen a ghost whale?" he asks. He might be at home in the water, but the colossal creatures are dangerous even for someone like Tenor.