RP:Scary Crabs and Nice Snakes

From HollowWiki

Summary: Muzo bumps into Kreekitaka, quite literally, on the bridge to Cenril. The crab, sensing that the naga is an academic, asks if Muzo would teach him to read the common language. Muzo has some reservations but consents and proceeds with the help of his sentient spellbook, Formulae. By the end of the lesson Kreekitaka is sounding out words proficiently and has acquired a paper with a copy of the alphabet printed upon it. In exchange for the lesson, Kreekitaka pledges to build Muzo an equipment tent.

Eastern Bridge

Muzo comes slithering out of the east, muttering a mile a minute to himself. The anthropomorphic naga is slender, and his wide, glossy black eyes are narrowed to pensive slits. Sparse alchemical gear adorns his smoothly scaled body: goggles resting on his forehead, a satchel over his shoulder with several labeled flaps, a belt with pouches and loops. Floating around him like an oversized butterfly is a rather hefty-looking brown leather bound spellbook with the word "FORMULAE" clearly embossed on its spine and front cover. "...semibouyant antiocillation in conjunction with arcanostatic amplivacant thermoplasm to regulate the cross-etherial injection helix..." He thinks aloud, slithering in long, serpentine undulations while his arms are folded tightly behind himself.


Kreekitaka had just made it all the way across that bridge--who -designs- a bridge to rock unsteadily, anyhow--and was double-checking the cart to make sure all his cargo was intact. The man-size crustacean was clad in a kilt that swirled in psychedelic patterns, the color changing all by itself. He also wore a pair of large iridescent cone shells on his back that slowly dripped water over his gills and some kind of large bone weapon holstered at his waist. His paddles clattered rhythmically as he went through the various crates--and then he heard someone approaching, speaking what sounded like an entirely foreign tongue, way too fast. He considered all the various possibilities and then wondered if maybe this being was a linguist. A linguist would be helpful in learning how to read land-speech. Therefore: "Excuse me!" he called--his voice was deep but hollow and airy, as if it took a lot of effort just to produce sound. "May I ask your profession?" Holy cow, Kree! You managed to get through an entire post's worth of dialogue without screwing up any morphemes! I'm impressed!


Muzo glides forward, lost in thought, his long tail sliding through each static bend in his winding path to propel him ever forward and onward through space; likewise his mind moves ceaseless forward in contemplation. "...exacerbate the glandular transmogrification to express latent thaumaturgic--oof!!" Without a thought to potential obstacles, the absentminded Muzo has bumped right Kreekitaka's cart. He startles considerably, as does his hovering spellbook; the Naga gasps wide eyed, and Formula flaps and rustles in shock and agitation. "T-t-terribly sorry! Lost in thought, didn't see, my mis... mis... mis...". Trailing off, the awestruck naga's eyes trace up the crabman's form, and his ophidian jaw drops in utter astonishment and, by the look of it, actual fear.


Kreekitaka tilted his head as the naga approached--there was no indication he'd heard the call, maybe he didn't speak the regular land language? ...bump. Just distracted, okay. Kree paused a little and waited while the snakeman took in his appearance and rumbled internally, clenching his facial crushers in respect and tapping his chest once with a claw. Nothing about Kree would ever be perfectly still--his paddles gently rippled up and down his back, his legs shifted slightly, the twin whiplike tails scraped lightly against each other. It was like he was actually incapable of complete stillness. "Is okay," replied Kree, skipping a word that messed him up. "May I ask your profession? I am KreekiTAH!ka," the all-caps part refers more to a forced exhalation than actual volume, that was one of the sounds that messed him up, "an' I require inschrucshun in HHHTHe yanguage of air-breaHHHTHers." As he spoke, he opened one three-digit claw and extended several small tendrils apparently designed for fine manipulative work, and gestured with them like he was writing something with a pen. It wasn't spoken language he needed help with.


Muzo shudders before summoning up all the politeness from his deepest reserves. Though visibly paled at, the naga manages to answer the crabman, speaking quickly enough that his words nearly run into one another. "Ah-ah-a r-researcher. Muzo. No surname. Royal alchemist, second class. Dissertation: foundation of applied biotic alchemy. I-ah-er-myself, I-" He's getting closer to gathering himself up after his bad start. Formulae, meanwhile, seems immediately to catch Kreekitaka's drift and flutters excitedly over to the crab man, flipping through its pages and merrily showing off its contents: graphs, diagrams, sigils, tables, and bulky, bulky text. Each flipping page wafts the musty smell of aged writing. The slender alchemist, meanwhile, makes no attempt to restrain the enthusiastic tome, and, he clears his throat. "Erm-ah-yes, language? Well versed in written language. Wonder, though, what kind of instruction you seek?" Puzzlement crosses his brow. "Intermediate? Advanced? Never fancied myself a teacher, though would be willing to make the attempt. Wouldn't know where to point you, as far as real teachers go." He looks around himself as though one might serendipitously appear, with apples, chalkboard, mortarboard and measuring stick. No such individual appears.


Kreekitaka attempted to keep his paddles fairly flat and succeeded, for the most part, though they twitched upwards at the word "dissertation" and continued slowly flaring throughout the sentence as he had absolutely no idea what the being was on about and furthermore he seemed to be -determined- to display weakness in the face of the unknown, which, to Kree, seemed entirely backwards. It was like he was -asking- to be bullied. Fortunately, the book was a distraction--if an entirely unreadable one--and he looked through it intently before the man spoke again. "From HHHTHe beginning. I am noTAH! famiyiar wiHHHTH any of HHHTHis." He gestured to the book. "Your air-soun's are very harDAH! for me, an' you don'TAH! even have symbohs for my speech. So I mus' yearn yours if I am TAH!oo promoTAH! my business, see?"


Muzo freezes entirely, attentively cocking an earhole as the crabman speaks, and his tongue gives a few compulsive flicks--it's an analytical tick of his. "Business? Er-ahem-I-I-I mean, should begin with the alphabet, I would imagine." Following Muzo's line of thought, Formulae immediately flips to a bold, large typeface display of the common alphabet, complete with upper and lower case: a full two-pager. The book floats just within Muzo's reach, and the naga raises up a scrawny arm so he can begin pointing at the different letters in sequence. "Common tongue, not 'land speech'," he gives a tittering little laugh, "though an amusing and inventive label. See, all of it, made of different symbols that represent sounds. Mostly straightforward. Occasionally nuanced and idiosynchratic. No one gets it down perfectly. Rules become," he squints one eye shut, "malleable as one approaches mastery. Digression!" The book straightens its spine and spreads its pages wider as Muzo continues. "Symbols in sequence form sounds." The page flips, revealing a cartoon depiction of Kreekitaka labeled "SCARY CRAB", which Muzo reads aloud. "Scary Crab. Ss. Kuh. A. Rrr. Eee. Like so."


Kreekitaka figured that much--his own language had a written form as well, and it was fairly similar--though in his case, the symbols designated motion more than sound. The words "nuanced" and "idiosynchratic" were entirely beyond him, but before he could ask about them, they'd already moved on to other things. First the list of symbols, which Kree examined with intent, and then--oh. Haha. Okay. Funny. Mhm. Kree rumbled internally and flared his paddles a little more, puffing himself up just a bit--though if one were to ask him later it was mostly for effect than actual irritation. "So. HHHTHe aomos' circo is 'kuh', regarDAH!yess of big? Khh. Ur. A. Buh." He peered at the whole thing. "Ssc. Aaarrryyy. Kh. Raaabuh." Short pause. "Scary. Crab." Shorter pause. "Scary crab!" Well, at least he's a fairly quick study, so that much is good.


Muzo nods along apprehensively at Kreekitaka's initial tries, but upon hearing the aquatic fellow's swift progress, the naga immediately beams a fanged grin and nods with rapid enthusiasm. "Yes! Quitequitequitequitequite. Very good! Quick learner. Should put you in a labcoat after this. Hmm. Digression!" He returns his attention to Formulae, who flips its pages to another captioned cartoon, one of Muzo pointing itself, the floating spellbook: "WIMPY SNAKE" and "BEST BOOK EVER". Naturally, the alchemist reads these aloud too, then breaks the letters into phoenitic sounds. Muzo, despite his fast-paced speech and thought processes, turns out to be an admirably patient instructor, and will flip through as many pseudo-insulting examples as the merchant crab wishes.


Kreekitaka continued to work through the sounds, getting faster at them--not perfect yet, by any means, but still getting quicker. After a decent amount of time, he holds up a claw and asks, "AorighTAH!, can we go back TAH!oo HHHTHe symbohs an' I can ma'ch HHHTHem TAH!oo HHHTHeir soun's?" He wanted to make sure he had every symbol right. "Ah. Buh. Khh, someTAH!imes ss for no reason, DAH!., Eh, Fff, Guh, hhh, ih or aye, aoso for no reason, juh, kuh again--" His facial crushers flared and so did his paddles. He despised that next letter and everything it stood for. At least the other sounds he could approximate. That one, he nearly punched out of the book. He refrained himself from doing this and continued, skipping it, "Mm. Nn. Oh or ah, puh... kuh -again-...? Rr. Ss. TAH!. Oo or uh, vv, wuh, kss, ee, zz." At the conclusion of this working through the phonetic sounds of the alphabet, he looked up at Muzo to see how he'd done with it.


Muzo looks to Formulae, and it immediately complies, fluttering back a few pages to display the same bold, double page spread as before, and Muzo points to each as the crab pronounces them. Reaching the "L", the impromptu instructor hesites, his attention flickering between Kreekitaka and the book before tactfully pointing to the "M" and hopefully sparing poor Formulae a chitin-clad punch to the page. At last, the merchant having so completed the recitation, Muzo beams and reaches over to the far corner of the page, carefully tugging until the alphabet spread emerges as a folded leaflet. Formulae claps shut with a puff of dust, falling a couple feet before it opens to resume fluttering. Muzo offers the leaflet to Kreekitaka. "A reference. Might jog your memory. Easier to copy the symbols, too. Letters, the symbols I mean, 'abc' and all those. Hope I've been of service." His brow knits uncertainly despite his smile, for he still awaits approval. "Not my field, after all."


Kreekitaka nodded, his paddles relaxing as he drew himself up tall again. Hearing that he did well--or at least seeing it in Muzo's smile--was certainly good, and he was pleased to have performed well enough. He accepted the leaflet with those same fine-manipulator tendrils as before and flipped it open, glancing over it and nodding again before reaching out with his free claw to Muzo to shake, lifting his uppermost pair of paddles in salute and clenching his facial crushers again. "Many HHHTHanks, sir Muzo. I appreciaTAH! HHHTHis immenseyee. When I reTAH!urn from my home wiHHHTH more sTAH!ock, come by an' Io DAH!esign someHHHTHing free of charge. Yike HHHTHis." He gestured to the kilt he wore, made of that color-changing fabric. "Or of oHHHTHer kinDAH!s of fabric. I have many--some weighs noHHHTHing, some shimmers yike HHHTHe sea, some makes yighTAH! by iTAH!seff, an' HHHTHaTAH! is onyee HHHTHe beginning of whaTAH! I can make." Shameless advertising, Kree. But, at least you offered to make him something for free, so that's good of you.


Muzo breathes a small breath of relief and eagerly takes the crab's claw for a friendly shake. "Delighted to be of aid!" His eyes pull happily shut as he beams, then suddenly open again in pleased surprise. "Stock? F-free of charge? I-ah-well-hmm." Having completed their handshake, he thoughtfully folds his arms over his chest, narrowing his gaze once again in pensive concentration. "Have little use for clothes." His unclad form attests to this. "Textiles. Textiles. Many applications. Use many filters, strainers, cleaning patches. Disposable." A soft frown bends his mouth. "Seems a waste of such finery," the snake's face turns to study the crab's truly impressive kilt, "and of talent. Perhaps..." Scrunching his face shut tightly, Muzo nearly bends double with the force of his concentration when, "aha!" suddenly inspiration strikes him. "Could use a field tent. Needn't be large enough for myself," the naga glances back at his twenty-two feet of tail, "just to hold experimental equipment, keep it out of the wind, safe from debris, rain, animals, etc. Would be MOST useful in my line of work." Hopefully, he looks back up to the crab, already excited at the prospect, though he quickly tones back enthusiasm, returning to self-conscious timidity. "If it's not too much trouble, that is. Would be content with anything, or nothing at all, truly."


Kreekitaka waved off his lack of excitement and considered, shifting his weight and gazing into the distance, trying to figure out exactly how he was going to make the tent work. Safe from debris, rain, and animals. So it needed to be sturdy but still light, to allow for enough fabric to have a whole tent. A glow effect would allow the man to work into the night, but could also attract unwanted attention from wildlife. A scent might be unpleasant, the weightless fabric by itself wasn't particularly sturdy, the sharkskin was dangerous to contact... then he hit upon an idea. It wasn't an oft-used fabric due to its very limited applications, but for something like this it might actually be ideal. "I have a fabric which secreeTAH!s syime when one DAH!isturbs iTAH!. Usuayee onyee usefo for sheohDAH!s, TAH!oo encumber enemy weapons. If I can make a way TAH!oo shuTAH! off HHHTHe syime when noTAH! in use--which I can--iTAH! wooDAH! be abo TAH!oo resisTAH! ao HHHTHe HHHTHings you mention." He tilted his head a little at the snakeman. "HHHTHoughTAH!s?"


Muzo is startled by the sheer epiphany. A tent that exudes slime when disturbed? "Would never have occurred to me," he frankly admits, still actively envisioning how such a structure would appear and function. "Curious security feature. Could imagine it being quite practical. As long..." he ducks his head a little, pressing the back of his first knuckle to his lips, if they could be called lips at all, "...as long as the slime didn't drip onto the setup. Certain, though, that you'd already considered this, yes, hah." Straightening again, he beams brightly up at the crab. "Presents exciting opportunities! Could perform sensitive work in adverse conditions. Wonderfully time saving." Fomulae gives a thrilled flutter, rustling it pages and ascending up to Kreek's eye level to do a midair somersault, rustling its approval.


Nodding, Kreekitaka rippled his paddles and once more extended his claw to Muzo to shake, deciding that he would make this tent and that it would be marvelous. "Marveyous." I just said that, Kree. Next you're going to ask him how you can get back in touch with him, right? "How can I senDAH! you noTAH!ice when iTAH! is compyeeTAH!.? May be a yiTAH!oh whioh, neeDAH! HHHTHe righTAH! combinashun of maTAH!eriohs." Called it. Line-stealing hack. It's like all your dialogue is written for you.


Muzo shakes the crab's claw once again, much less hesitantly this time. "Can leave word with Mesthak." (ooc: He means hmail, of course. ^_^) "Always reaches me fairly quickly. Currently of no fixed abode myself. Tavern's kind enough to hold my messages." Releasing the crab's hand, Muzo cranes his neck to take a peek at the crab's cart as though he has just now noticed it, despite having actually bumped into it. Business... business... "Hmmm. Capital gain. Free enterprise. Never cared much for the market. Glad to let others carry that torch." Slithering back a little, he glances around himself, then hurries to give his head a vehement shake. "No, not for me, not for me. Tent though, yes." His attention returns to the crab. "Will be most useful. Could happily return the favor, too, with alchemical work." Speaking of which, the floating spellbook is beginning to flutter indicatively westward, pausing every few feet to turn its spine toward its naga master, as though checking to see if he is following. These antics earn Muzo's attention. "Speaking of which, need to make it to the seaside by low tide. Specimens to collect. Serendipitous bumping into you." He bows low and respectfully.


Alchemy! Now there was a term Kree was most glad to hear. He had to refrain from rubbing his claws together and offering the man a contract on the spot. Why, at this rate he'd be getting his claws into nearly every market on the continent. He nodded as Muzo bowed and returned the gesture, though his was a lighter bow. "QuiTAH! so, yes. Io sTAH!ay in TAH!ouch." He clenched his facial crushers respectfully and turned away, thinking--if he didn't care much for the market, perhaps the use of his talents wouldn't need quite as much compensation as a more fiscally-minded person. He'd have to look into it at some point in the near future--a resume of alchemical feats, perhaps. His was going to be the best clothing store ever, of all time, he was certain of it. "Oh, an' Muzo?" He suddenly turned back to face the probably-departing snakeman for one final comment, "HHHTHe worohDAH! is changing, soon, an' I am changing iTAH!. Know HHHTHaTAH! you are making a powerfo frienDAH! here." He hadn't said that to anyone else, but with Linn's enchanted gem support and Muzo's alchemical help and Rainbow's skill with tissues... he felt there was very little he wouldn't be able to do, very soon.