video [ un: daughter-sea ]

[seaboard]

[ 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.

Comments

[seaboard]

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?

[hearuthinking]

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

[seaboard]

[ 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?

[hearuthinking]

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.

[seaboard]

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.

[hearuthinking]

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.

[seaboard]

Who taught you it, that you carry it still?

[hearuthinking]

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

How 'bout you?

[seaboard]

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.

[hearuthinking]

[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.

[seaboard]

No, no I think you are not.

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

[hearuthinking]

Uh, well, full name and rank? First Lieutenant Jason Kolchek. United States Marine Corps.

[seaboard]

No, I...

[ Ah, soldiers. She smiles, polite as ever, but still so reserved, it never does quiet reach all the way to her eyes. ]

I suppose it does not matter so much, Jason Kolchek, the First Lieutenant, of the United States Marine Corps.

[hearuthinking]

Just "Jason" is all right, ma'am.

[seaboard]

Jason.

[ She gives a nod, trying to settle on something so... so... personal. It felt so utterly presumptious of her. ]

Well, do tell me when you would like me to come to the Hunters to cook. I'll need some time to get my supplies, but there as yet no great pressing concerns on my time.

[ ... It's an attempt at humor or her polite version of it. ]

[hearuthinking]

Anytime. The Sanctuary is open twenty-four-seven and I try goin' by at least once a day. You can help me brush up on my Russian.

[seaboard]

Whenever you wish.

[hearuthinking]

All right. Guess I'll see ya, then.

[He tips his hat to her]

[seaboard]

[ There is of course, the respectful, stately nod of a ruler.

Then the stop, as she leans over and tries to hit buttons to make the thing stop transmitting and a few colorful phrases to do with getting starfish somewhere unpleasant before the video turns off. ]