[Training] [se] articulate frenzy

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

The honeybee nodded, intertwining her hands around a long blade of grass, and then tying it in a knot in between her fingers. Flicking it back and forth, she listened to Kamaria’s whereabouts, extension of her education (thank the gods) didn’t murmur through her teeth, but certainly in her mind).

“Just the swamps,” with an inclination of a shrug. Beyond looking for witches, frog catching, and being absolutely stupid with vampire gourds, the trips hadn’t been devastating, ruinous, or dangerous. No ghost whales to be had either – though whether that was due to her charm or some other circumstance, she couldn’t be certain.

Then she wondered if she’d gone a little too far, because she wasn’t sure if Sunjata would like the answer she was about to give about Jack, the ship, and the how. She didn’t grimace, but the notions had been there – pausing carefully instead, not looking at him. “He and Safrin made a deal, I guess.” They hadn’t been given too many details about the transaction, and though very nosey, Melita had enough wherewithal to not pry too deeply.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

Of course she’d have an education – there wasn’t any question about it. Sunjata’d grown up with a steady amount of education, regardless if Korofi standards were a bit different than Caido’s. He certainly would continue her education, regardless of where they lived. It was important to him. But Melita has captured his attention with the comment exploring the swamps and Sunjata nods. “I think I’ve only been there once. Did you find anything interesting?” Any new rocks or trinkets to take?

As for the rest of it, his question is cut off in his mind as he tries to figure out just how the Ark came to flying, and when the answer leaves his niece’s lips his brows pinch together in confusion, head cocking a bit to the side. He shouldn’t be jealous (and luckily the pain still vibrating through his system, though far more muted now) keeps him even. “Sounds like a Safrin deal. Have you traveled on it while it’s flown?” A part of him wants to ask what it’s like – whether it could be compared to the planes and the like they had in Korofi.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

“Milo and I tried to find a witch. Caught some frogs instead.” A wry grin flickered there, because while it hadn’t been overtly intriguing, at least it’d been fun and entertaining. By now she’d tied off the blade of grass, and started digging into the earth for more, weaving them intricately with one another; some sort of makeshift crown beginning to form with lighter, softer particles.

She waited for some other kind of reaction to the Safrin involvement; eyes flickering upwards to watch him very carefully. When nothing seemed to rankle, nettle, or bother (even more surprising, really, given all the other circumstances surrounding these occasions), her gaze went back to her work, nodding towards Fangorn as he began to gather some more in her lap. “Only once. A short little trip at night.” The smile appeared again, far more Cheshire in appearance, betraying all her thoughts about it. “It was awesome.”

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

“Hmm. I heard of a witch too.” He offers, trying to tap into that easy companionship they used to have, a hint of a smile curling at the corners of his lips as his pain gets a bit more manageable. “Do you plan on searching for her again?” He asks, cocking his head, leaning back in the grass a bit to try and alleviate his situation a bit more.

The idea of Safrin helping Jack is one that does arise some jealousy, but it’s bitten down and hidden with practice, his curiosity overcoming him in wondering if one night when he’s outside looking at the stars and offering his own quiet prayers for his goddess, if he’d see the bottom hull of a ship – covered with layers of salt lines and barnacles and the like. He’s brought back to reality by the smile that crosses Melita’s face, reflecting a small amount on his own. “In Korofi we had things called planes. They were things similar to a ship, I guess, but they flew too.” Some relation to that and half of her history. He hopes that she’s intrigued by that.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

The bits and pieces collected against one another, and she found some blossoms to intermingle. Not strong or sturdy, with little white slips of hues falling in and out, but semblances of something rather than nothing at all. She shrugged her shoulders at his question. “Maybe, if we end up over there again. I heard she gives out fortunes,” a little tug of mischief lingered in the corners of her mouth, but she didn’t give away why. Maybe it was the notion of kismet and serendipity itself, cards read and spelled out like fate – when she’d like to be master of her own impulsive, emboldened destiny.

Her head jerked upwards though, one brow arching distinctly, at the notion of planes. “A what?” Her fingers wrapped around a firmer stem, and plucked it from the ground, utilizing the durability and coiling it into her design, no need to glance at it now; muscle memory honing in. “We didn't have anything like that.” And here, now, they had skyports and people that turned into flying beasts and monsters that flickered in and out of the void.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

Sunjata doesn’t focus too much on what Melita is doing with the grasses and the picking of random flowers and weeds, but he does focus on her words — a witch that gives out fortunes is interesting in and of itself, something that he almost wonders if it would be worth seeking out purely for curiosity’s sake. But he pushes that thought aside, given how much he’s already essentially gotten in deep. So he refrains, instead, offering her a small smile and a nod in response.

Planes, though, are something he can talk about. He wasn’t an inventor or an engineer of any sort, but he was familiar with them and how they worked for the most parts. The hardest part would be comparing it to something here in Caido to make the connection easier. “You didn’t?” He asks curiously for a moment before he shakes his head. “But you had magic, yeah? We didn’t have that in Korofi. Planes were… Something that had been around for a while. Fine tuned to send this big metal hull through the air for transporting and weapons, for a time.” He grows a bit quieter here as he thinks about the weaponry attached to the planes, before his gaze snaps back to the girl’s. “Some said it was like magic.”

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

Eventually, the youth found what she was truly looking for, nestled in amongst the soil, underneath ridges of flowers, stems, and roots. Plucking one of them carefully from the earth, she wove it diligently into the crown itself, tucked away as it began to crawl along the newest confinements and adornments. Hiding her snicker, she held out the finished product in offering, turning it slightly so the evidence wasn’t so obvious from certain angles. “For you,” and then began working on one for herself, all innocent airs.

But amongst the other trials and tribulations, fingers curling over pink sprigs like pieces of lace, the youth inclined towards her imagination over…planes and such. “Oh sure, we had magic. Just like here. Some were blessed. Some weren’t. It was rarer to not have anything.” Narrowing her eyes in the picture and speculation of the advanced technology, she pondered lightly. “Wonder if we could have anything like that here, then.”

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

Brows pinch together when Melita offers him a crown of sorts. He’s tentative as he reaches out, wondering if it’s some type of peace offering (not like he imagines her kicking him square in the balls was considered a truce by her standards, at least he doesn’t feel like he needs to throw up anymore). As it stands, though, he takes it and inspects it for a moment before putting it on, not noticing the worm within the crown (and he likely won’t for a moment).

Instead, he flashes her a crooked smile. “How does it look?” He tilts his head slightly as if to give her more views of it, before settling in the subject of planes and technology that Korofi had in comparison to Helovia. Her admission and his understanding of the place tracked and it made it all that much more different from Korofi – a land where the only perks and benefits one had was given by technology itself. “Maybe. Honestly, the things closest to what we had in Korofi were closer to the things the Voice makes.” He admits a bit quieter, shrugging a shoulder.

At the very least, the Ascended and the metal prosthetics for things back home fit the bill pretty closely.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

Occupying herself with making her own crown, and not laughing under her breath, her eyes only rambled upward at his inclination. She watched the worm begin to inch its way along the top of the woven stems, and the youth could only pride herself on not collapsing into a fit of hysterics at the stupid, ridiculous image. “Perfect,” the honeybee uttered instead with a faint Cheshire grin – giving nothing away but likely ensuring something was amiss with the mild expression.

A hum stoked under her breath again as she worked, waiting for the inevitable to fall into place. In the meantime, she listened, falling silent at the semblances of potential magic woven into the Voice standards. She was careful to bide around the moment with any comments – about where they stood, about Nate, about all the delicate, feeble, grounds lingering around the fringes. “Well, maybe we have enough big Attuned shifts to cover the bases anyway,” uttered around a snort; clearly insinuating dragon abilities. “And skyports.”

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

Oh he has no idea about the worm, and it’s perhaps made even better with the way it inches across the top of the flower crown, up and out of reach of the rogue pieces of hair that might alert him to its presence. For now, it wiggles along and he has little to no idea as she comments that it’s perfect, which is truthfully strange to hear from Melita. His head tilts slightly, trying to read her, and when he comes up empty he focuses on the conversation of Korofi instead.

Luckily though, Melita has nothing to say on the subject of the Voice, and with it Sunjata’s focused entirely on her quiet comment of big attuned shifts and skyports, this subject arising a snort from Sunjata as he nods. “Maybe we do.” He agrees quietly, finding some inner peace within him for the first time in a long time when he spends time with his niece, and now that he’s settled a bit he goes to stand – quite sorely.

In doing so, the crown shifts a fraction on his head and from what seems like out of nowhere, a small sparrow comes darting down to snatch up the worm crawling across the top of the crown, but with that movement, the bird absolutely gets snarled in the crown and in turn, Sunjata’s longer curls.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

Spun into silence, a rarity, she pretended to be concentrating solely on the form of her newest crown, intermingling and wiring together the snapped stems and long blades of grass, weaving the sprigs until they’d fashioned and cobbled into something formidable. Only when he began did her gaze follow and track the movement – clearly waiting for something. No reaction at all would’ve been disappointing.

What she didn’t expect in all the sudden ruckus and confusion, was a god damned bird to give her little ploy away. Her jaw dropped, eyes widening, brows arching and staying as her stare increased; for not only had the avian tried to snag at the worm, but then…got stuck there.

“Wow,” was all she could say at first, staying perfectly still as it flapped against his head. “Maybe I was wrong. Now that is perfect.” And then she burst into giggles, easily rolling over into the grass, laying on her side to watch the spectacle.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

Luckily for Sunjata it isn’t too terrible of a thing. A shock, of course, with the surprised yelp that leaves him, feathers sprouting along his shoulders and through his longer curls. But at least he can talk to the creature. A small and easy maneuver for him to get the bird to calm down and stop biting at his hands as they rise to the crown Melita had given him, and a quick conversation made with the bird while Melita gets her full fill of enjoyment.

And that’s when the little birdie tells him there’s a worm in the crown. And he could certainly assume that it’s nothing more than an accident — if he didn’t know Melita better. His steel gaze snaps to her as his head and body tilt slightly, hands working to get the relaxed bird out of the tangles of his curls. “A worm, huh?” He asks her, raising a dark brow full of surprise and a hint of amusement.

If a trick like that was the worst that could happen between them right now, he imagines it’s a success.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

The honeybee can only see a portion of the antics and maneuvers – but she was too distracted in her amusement anyway to much bother or care about the circumstances thereafter. True to form, giggling away until her sides hurt and she had to wipe her eyes, she watched for a scarce few moments before the giggles started again. “No idea how that got there,” she managed to say and utter in between quick gasps of breath. “Gods that was funny,” and she held her sides until her ribs stopped aching.

Eventually she sat upright, and placed her own finished crown on, though sorely lacking any worms (she’d checked). “There. Now we match. All for Flowerbirth.” And no damaging Fiat Lux in sight.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

There’s a big part of him that’s actually somewhat glad that she’s enjoying this. Even if it’s at his own expense. At least she’s having fun, which is leagues above the arguments they typically found themselves in. He takes a deep breath, huffing out a small laugh in response to the words she manages to say between her fit of laughter and the tears that he can see glimmering in her gilded gaze. “Well, I’m glad you got some enjoyment out of that.” Sunjata rumbles, playfully annoyed as he lets the bird go with the worm from the crown and inspects it for more.

Once he’s satisfied with that, he places it back on his head when she sits up right and places her own finished crown onto her head. “Beautiful.” He comments, flashing her a brighter smile, recalling the last time he’d worn a flower crown and it had been that day he’d nearly suffocated in that mud monster.

It was both a terrible day and the start of a wonderful one. Because without that mud monster, he might not have gotten as close to Nate as he had.

“Well, I need to hobble home. Want to help me take the deer back?” He asks her, nodding toward the deer he’d left by the trees to keep it in sight when he’d noticed her on his flight over. “Or I can give you a ride back and carry the deer?” Whichever she preferred.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell