deernet | video [ un: daughter-sea ]

[ The woman that appears is a - level expression, a little happy or sad that plays on her features. Level, most especially, as she clears her throat. Her veil tied around her head to tame her curls back, her shift and vest tying herself up neatly.

Peeking out from her veil is her lamp friend, and drifting around her in a circle is a soft finned creature, her Omen. Delicately colored in reds and blues as it swims in the air. ]

I find myself remiss, in how to make an introduction...

... I am Second-Child, Gilia St. Loe, Daughter-Sea, She Who Sings the Ocean to Prosperity, Who Echoes With the Ceaseless Voice.

[ That out of the way. ]

I am new to this place, this... city. I do not have much in the way of the coin, but I am skilled in other forms. I can sew, weave, till a field, clean, cast a line, or a net, gut a fish, help tend animals, both with birthing and killing, cook many types of meals...

But if you have need of anything repaired or cooked... please, if there is something I can do for resources in return, only let me know, and I shall be your glad servant.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lady Gilia serves in more formal situations or Daughter-Sea. I can appreciate I am no Queen, here.

Yes, much to my relief. I am used to it in foreign trade, but usually, most people in my own home do not have much use for it. You cannot eat coin, after all.

All right then, Lady Gilia. I'm Jason.

Nope, you sure can't. But like I say, you got lots of skills people will want. A Hunter's clothes are almost as important as their weapons, so havin' a good seamstress would help us. Cookin' food is always welcome, too. You'll find plenty to do around here.

It seems that way.

And you? What do you need done that I may help with?

Nothin'. I'm good, ma'am, thanks.

Nothing? Not even a home-cooked meal?

Nah, I'm good. My grandma taught me to cook, and I can always go out to eat. You should save that skill for someone who really needs it.

Gifts do not have to be needed, that is why they are gifts.

Please, consider it a gift to me in turn. I have lived my life being surrounded by people. I am alone, now, in a foreign land. It does not suite me so well, I fear, having someone to share a meal with for at least one night would soothe me very much.

Shit. Can't really say "no" to that. How 'bout you cook for all the Hunters, then?

Certainly. If you show me where I may do so, and the supplies to do it, I can do that.

Sure. You can go to the Sanctuary. Me and some other Hunters patrol around there, and it's got other people workin' in the place, too. It's in Crenshaw, it's got this huge banner at the entrance.

Then tell me the night you shall attend and how to find the kitchens, and I shall make you enough Solyanka to fill you against the cold.

You know how to make solyanka? [That's unexpected]

Why of course -

[ She pauses, tilting her head a moment and switches languages it seems.

To something a little closer to Old Eastern Slavic. ]

Where does your spirit hail, Hunter-Jason?

[What the ever loving fuck?]

Uh. Hang on, I'm out of practice. I only ever spoke that with my grandma.

[It takes him a moment to translate, as she used an older version of the language he's familiar with]

Think I got it. You're askin' where I'm from? Just a small town in America. [The fandom doesn't agree on where exactly, so vague answer is vague]

Amer-ica?

[ She takes her time around the word, but where he is stilted, the words roll from her in a smooth lilt. Deep and soft in the back of her throat that rounds each word. ]

And who is your patron?

The Doorway. Not sure what my patron does for me yet. [His patron's month SUCKED for him]

[ She frowns a moment, she has heard of these Pthumerians, not sure what hold they could have on her that the Sea-Father did not... but... ]

No, I mean your Lord? Who is your King? Or Queen? Minister?

Oh, that. Well, America's got a president named George Bush. But my direct superior is Lieutenant Colonel Eric King. And here, we Hunters all sorta do our own thing.

Hm.

[ Leveled, slow, a tilt of her head that is more thoughtful. So many going about what they must do, and yet how would the harvest be? Real organization, forward thought, would always be needed at those times. She could not say, and perhaps it was bitterness in her tongue, a festering root. But still, that would come later, when she was better in her understanding. ]

I do not know such a Prince or General, I am afraid. But one of my tongue is always welcome at my table, you are brethern.

Didn't figure you did. Eric's just in charge of my unit back home. Military.

[He tips his hat at her]

That's real kind of you, ma'am. Like I said, I ain't practiced it in a while.

Who taught you it, that you carry it still?

My grandma. Or I guess I just learned from listenin' to her. She taught me how to cook, too.

How 'bout you?

Your Babushka?

[ Of course it would be, no patron should leave her children uneducated. ]

This is the language of my people. It is the first language I ever spoke. Though I speak five others, as well.

[That makes him smile]

No kiddin'? That's real impressive. I think these omni translate for us, but I bet I ain't the only one who'd like hearin' a familiar language.

No, no I think you are not.

Is Jason your only name, or have you been given your name by your people yet?

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