The Drink

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Internals] "Be seeing you, Talli." he replied, watching her shorter frame for a moment as she turned and left. In spite of the fact that she clearly seemed somewhat dissatisfied by... well, whatever it was she found within their short talk, she was a helpful sort. Thoughtful enough to spot that he'd left something behind even after the clamor. He owed her on that much— she seemed a good person. The type that kept you honest. Though putting his head to it, he wasn't sure he agreed with her assessment of Skyra's theatrics. Certainly didn't feel like she cared too much to him. About anything. Rules, What Luten Was, The Doctor— “You made yourself known by chucking a knife our way, son?” The Po-Matoran asked, his bewildered amusement behind a raised eyebrow. “What a handful it is I've been asked to ferry over.” But he had just arrived here. And he was no genius at reading people deeper than threat. There was all sorts of reasons he could have been wrong. That much he knew well, by now. Returning his gaze to the Po-Matoran ahead, he stiffly nodded as the wizened one motioned him further along. "Yeah... Like I said, I wasn't thinking after 'gotta get this stuff over there so I can have a chance to make the swim', so I just sent it." “Well. It makes for quite the first impression, but people here are very protective of their own.” his guide intoned, nodding and accepting the reasoning as the haste and folly of youth unbound. “And the galleyswoman is one of them. Many of us have lost close friends, families, even our loved ones in the time we've served here. The siege of Ko-Koro was just the most recent one in a lot of their heads, but the war on the dark's a long one for us all. If the Captain's recruited you into it, then he trusts you won't be a further danger than the ones we already face.” "I won't be throwing knives at people." he reiterated. “That, or he trusts he can whip you into shape until you're not. You say something? It's quite loud for these old ears sometimes.” There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. One Highwind couldn't help but stiffen, just a little, at. He'd seen the same in Krayn's not ten minutes prior. "...No, sir." “C'mon, then. Time's a wasting.”

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Internals] He found himself mirroring her frown, then glanced down the hall, past the old Po-Matoran patiently waiting to return to shepherding him forth into the depths, and into the distance beyond. "Then I guess that explains what the Recruitment Pitch ended up being. 'There is another path'." he echoed, the vaguest affectation of Dehkaz's clipped, frosty Ko-Koro accent coloring his contemplative tone. At his side, a free hand twitched, ready to close once more into a fist. He stilled it with a huff, then looked back down as he registered the second part of what she said. "Eh..." he hedged, busying his hands with extricating the knife and pack from one another and shrugging his shoulders. "The Le-Toa, Skyra, just made a point of circling behind me while I had my eyes on Krayn. That's all. Not a big deal in the long run since she wasn't really fishing for the angle, but it made things tense when she said they oughta throw me back." he muttered, still a touch annoyed but reserving it for his own time, trying to bury it under reason. "Don't like being penned in or feeling eyes on the back of my head, it reminds me of getting stalked in Le-Wahi. Can't complain though, I threw the knife at you guys anyway. It was on the table."

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Internals] "Talli Anach," he repeated in a low murmur, exercising those still-underutilized pathways in the mind that put new faces and new names together. Her nonplussed expression didn't quite remain long enough to give him pause— Instead, he just accepted the likelihood that something he'd said in there was weird. Maybe she, like much of the rest of the crew, was already really used to the aforementioned little geode woman— and hearing her referred to as a talking rock was what had prompted the reaction. "Galleyswoman Talli Anach, got it." Just as likely, it was having a wildman twice your height fumble over your name after you just handed it to him. Either way, a weird look was far less than it took for him to be dissuaded from a path he'd chosen. He'd weathered a lifetime's worth of them just in the time he'd wandered out the brush— they barely held meaning unless voiced. "I'm Jolek. And next time, I won't be trying to race a ship already halfway out to sea, hopefully. Was the first thing I could think of to get this stuff aboard, didn't have time to second-guess it or fight the extra drag. If Krayn hadn't reeled me in, I'd probably have missed my window entirely." he admitted with a shrug and a tilt of the head. "Desperate measures. For a while there, I was pretty sure I'd kicked the Rama Hive, so I'm not really planning on rerunning it." As he returned the knife to his person and close a fist around the mouth of the bundle that had been tied to it, a thought struck, sparking a little curiosity behind those uncertain gold eyes. "How normal's all that around here, anyway? Thrown knives. Fishing up latecomers. Talking masks." he asked, waving his free hand about in an all-enveloping gesture. "Circling into people's blind spots when you're having a conversation. Seems like it's all everyday stuff for most of the people grilling me topside."

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Internals] As she sped up, he in turn slowed... then stopped, his eyes having adjusted as their course brought the three of them in towards the proper, stark lighting of the interior and not the dim, warm hues of weak lightstone. Revealed within the crook of her arm, the dull fabric of his pack caught the eye, and he quickly put together that he'd never actually picked it back up when he'd first set it down— "Oh, thanks." he replied, reaching out as she drew close. "Didn't even realize, things were moving pretty quick once the rock started talking to me. I don't remember getting your name up top, did I?"

guys this was a bad move the future sucks

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Internals] Although he'd drummed up his share of attention on the surface, Jolek nonetheless found himself taken a little aback at the bustle his shepherd had lead him into as they descended the hatch— for the conversation he'd kicked into gear up top, it quickly became apparent that the ironclad beast never slumbered as it slipped out of the Ta-Koro Bay and into the black of night. As tight as the corridors were, barely three of him apart at their broadest, in a matter of minutes he counted at least a dozen and a half faces milling past, purpose in their eyes only allowing them a quick glance at the gunmetal newcomer before they marched onto the task at hand— whatever it may have been. He couldn't delineate rank or uniform from one another in these foreign symbols, not at a glance, but whatever they were they permeated the air in a low roar. He frowned, reminded of a base or three. Impressive regimentation, but it ran counter to the sales pitch. Whatever the big man had planned for him, it couldn't be all this. Another thing stood out pretty readily, too. His eyes slid over his right shoulder, meeting those that had planted themselves onto the back of his head from the jump. He wasn't a De-Toa like Krayn, and there was enough going on down here that the Matoran's dissonant stride hadn't been what'd clued him in. He was far removed from even pretending to be that good a hunter. But a hunter's instincts still survived in him. A lot like the Forest, little more than a day prior, he'd more felt the eyes on him than heard or seen or smelled or any other type of sense. A gaze was like a weight on your back. Meeting hers, he definitely didn't discern any odd intent that'd undercut the general vibe of the welcome so far, but there wasn't any doubt it was on him. There was something tucked beneath her arm, but the sudden gloom once you got inside was even giving his night eyes trouble, more used to adjusting beneath canopy than steel. Only one thing left to do, then. "So boss," he breathed, turning to the Po-Matoran ahead after a moment. "Is it normal for newbies to get tailed on the way in, or should we wait up on her?"

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Aft Deck] As the brief exchange played out between the Ko-Toa and Le-Toa, moments behind their remarks on the rock he was talking to, the outstretched finger confirmed two of her three claims as that investigative poke on the forehead made contact, prompting her (presumably Red-Star-borne) glow to spike and shift to an indignant magenta. The names she rattled off, hands on her hips, as "people who wore her" meant... well, nothing much. But the feeling of etched and carved geode was impossible to mistake, even after all this time. She was no illusion. Whatever else may have been the explanation, mundane or mystical, inanimate rock was standing here. Arguing with him. Rattling off a story with too many working, unfamiliar parts for him to specifically deny. By hook or by crook, she had life breathed into her. Real. Tangible. "...The Red Star can do all that? How big of a world have I been clueless about this whole..." Did he know what to make of that? Of course not. Nobody does when little statuettes go from greeting them to yelling at them in the span of two sentences. But he knew very well now that he was sorely lacking in life experience. Not enough to deny this many senses in tandem. Whether or not she actually was some Sanok could be determined later, right now... His arms folded, and beneath his Pakari nostrils flared as he accepted this shift in reality. Rocks don't talk, but this rock could. Frustration, resolution, contemplation... whichever mentality prompted it was unclear, but his instinct to reset after a moment was, in short order, validated. "Right. Okay, nice to meet you, you're the weirdest thing I've ever met. I hope we can be good friends." “Jolek… Highwind?” The gravelly voice sounded to his left, opposite Luten and matching with the footsteps he'd been noting down while he'd made sense of her. The Po-Matoran whom it belonged to standing with a small bit of parchment in his grasp, squinting at the writing as he read off the name. Dehkaz had already marked him down, and gone on leaving anyway? He knew he'd been read like a book just from talking with the man, but that was still quite a bit of faith. His accent was unmistakable, and seemed out of place surrounded by water. Po-Wahi. Had to be. That brought up another question about the more clipped, icy tones coming out of the big man's mouth, but first things first. “That you, yea? Captain’s looking for ya, c’mon.” He'd made a bit of a commotion and was also here with a De-Toa five feet away, so that was one explanation for how the boss had known he'd boarded. In the confusion of talking with four people at once (a personal best since the Lavapool Incident), there was plenty of time and diversion for Krayn to have surreptitiously alerted his CO... "We can chat more when Dehkaz is done with you. I've got a couple of questions, when you've got the time." Krayn gestured after the retreating Matoran, mostly with the wrist, and inclined his head slightly to the new Toa to bid him— for the moment— farewell. "Good luck." But meeting his eyes, Jolek found none of that mischief from moments ago, hinting at something he'd missed. There had to be another way, then. How... He returned the nod after that moment's searching, before sending one the way of the Po-Matoran as he started off behind, ambling towards an unvarnished hatch in the flooring of the boat, once again returning to proper focus as a fortress of steel that slipped through the murky waves without sinking. He'd felt the man's personal field brushing against his, that day they'd met in the Forest— this morning. Even within such a beaconlike mass, as though a candle surrounded by floodlights, had he still picked Jolek out by the time he'd pulled himself to shore? So many questions. "Perfect. So was I." So much I don't know. ... Abandoned against the railing, knife and pack sat, forgotten in the tumult.

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Aft Deck] The boy's head rose a moment later, with much, much less reverence leaking from behind the veil of oblivion, motion spurred by none of the same ghosts of treasured memories. His brows were high on his mask, expression slack, nonplussed. Either he was unwilling or unable to hide that much, as the sentence bounced around like hammer of a strange bell inside his skull. "Huh?" Gilded eyes flicked back and forth, between Praggos and Krayn, the latter of which he'd long read as having the most authority of the assembled ranks short of the goliath they awaited. "Isn't he wearing i—?" That same chime from before, now much louder than he'd bargained for, and just off his rightward flank. "Hello there!" "Gyah!" One of his better attributes as a martial artist was his ability to turn, pivot, cut angles, and general agile use of the feet. This conferred innumerable advantages in a brawl, where positional awareness was the key that opened the door to all lines of defense and attack. Here, taken by surprise, his gut instinct produced prodigous torque through the ankle and hip as he whirled and sprung back a good bio and a half, forearms raised in a loose guard. The crystalline construct, glittering in the moonlight, continued her greeting and waving unabated, small enough to stand comfortably on the railing. While there were several things that felt off about being referred to as "Mister" in any capacity... His posture went slack a moment later, hands lowering as he crept forward again, eyeing the crystalline curiosity with more intrigue than wariness. He didn't sense any malice from her, but in all his years of living alongside a Cy-Toa... he'd never known crystals to start talking and taking names of their own. "...'Luten'? Nice to meet you too, but I gotta say you don't look much like a mask to me. I know a mask maker." He slowly raised a finger. All present would see that he meant to poke her on the brow. His eyes narrowed, squinting. She was a strange existence even to learned and urbane, worldly and experienced. "You're not a little crystal person? Are you even real?" A guy like him was roundly going to be hopeless.

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Aft Deck] Something familiar there. Inexplicable. Competitive, yet at the same time comforting. Irked at the challenge he felt. Humbled by the breadth of learning before him, within the people, within the ship, within the name. "Well, I'm starting from nothing. I know that much, but it's not like I can leave now anyway. I'll get there. I've got to." A thousand miles. One step. Nothing to inform him... But nothing to shackle him to something from before. No before to be shackled to. A thousand strikes learned. One strike, a thousand times mastered. Foundational. The Void, the blank canvas, filling, finding a frame, finding color. From emptiness, structure, leading again into emptiness. Words in far-off tongues. Kru, Sensei. Walking a path trodden before, granted a guiding hand by those further down the length. Shaking off the ash that choked and dulled him, pure, empty white beneath. "Until then," The ground before him bare, polished each morning by hand to almost a mirror sheen. He had felt this somewhere. He had known that flicker behind the De-Toa's eyes, long ago. He inclined his head into a half-bow at the waist. "I'll be in your care, everyone."

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Aft Deck] "Then that's the lead I'll follow." he nodded, taking a sip as he regarded the taller Toa. Gukko Force. Meaning, Krayn had come up in and cut his teeth in Le-Wahi, same as Jolek. It wasn't as though Highwind had any allegiance to speak of to the village— It was nestled far further inside the thicket than his old stomping grounds, a stone's throw away from the coast. The jungle was far and away big enough that the only real interaction he'd ever known of the authorities was hearing the birds they rode, leagues to the north. As a "shared heritage" went, it was definitely paltry... but it wasn't nothing. Familiar terrain, familiar surroundings, familiar weather— even that much was a leg up compared to most folks, kindly as they generally were, in Ta-Koro. Even that much counted enough, with little else to speak to. He wondered what the chances were that they'd barely missed eachother for a moment, an "independent officer" travelling the sometimes-overgrown footpaths the same day two "off-the-grid vagabonds" decided to track big game through their neck of the woods. Wasn't much. Wasn't zero, either. "I can work with someone who'll look me in the eye one way or another— I can't work in a cage. If it's just Dehkaz..." He took in a deep breath— filling his lungs with air that was already colder, cleaner, stronger than what he'd grown used to. Much more like home. "He seemed like he had a good read on me— I'll trust his judgement."

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Aft Deck] "Water, please." he replied, almost absently. No hard decision to make— despite everyone around him's best efforts, he found his tongue to only tolerate the flavor of alcohol at best— a restarted life spent in the humid jungle meant he was far more familiar with its' uncontrolled cousin in rot. Hard to get used to, hard to find the point in. But right now, he didn't really have much focus to spare upon the decision in the first place. "I'd been wondering about that— noticed the insignia on his armor. Was wondering why Po-Koro would detach a lone guard into the Charred Forest. My guess was something like Warrant Officers." He then frowned, folding his corded arms. "I have to ask, how do you dodge getting muddied down by the red tape? You left yourself out of the Sentinel Parade in that sentence. Wouldn't expatriates like us only have more hoops to jump through, between the Sentinels and whoever they're borrowing us from?" He took the chance to get out of the system. If he'd just thrown himself into the bowels of a second, let alone the first, he'd probably go find out for himself just how shallow the bay was or wasn't, and solemnly vow never to turn back from that initial "warrior nomadism" idea again as the black of suffocation took him. "If I throw in with you guys, what makes it not more of the same that I skipped out on by showing up here?"

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Aft Deck] "Don't got any, near as I know. I can't speak to owning much." He must have had a separation that healed bad, but either way, it looked like something lived with at this juncture. "Yep. Yeah. Kinda."

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Aft Deck] "What the other path is. Bigger than the villages, bigger than the island." For a moment, his gaze left Krayn and found the middle distance. In the swirl that an untimely sleep following one skipped completely left the memory, the absent Captain's words needed a moment to piece themselves together from the fore. The waking moments he'd afforded himself since had all been a rush— all he knew was that he'd have gone crazy if he didn't go down the road he'd never worked up the nerve, conviction, motivation, whatever it was... to take. There was barely even any time to half-form the question that slipped into the air. "Dehkaz said that if I wasn't fit to be a good Guard, I should swing by here, and see what could be done besides wait for the trouble to come to us. I can't say he mentioned 'Aggressors', but..." His head quirked a little to the side, as if acknowledging an unmade point. "It sounds like the name fits. And I'm a pretty bad beat cop. Here I am."

IC: Jolek [Ta-Wahi, Fowadi Aft Deck] "Musta been as passerby," he snorted as she left, shrugging. "Whatever. Appreciate the hospitality." He wasn't totally thirsty, but despite learning certain social graces well after the fact, even a jungle boy understood the import that the gesture of offering food or drink to guest held. Having to hunt one's food each day, if anything, made it all the more pointed— sharing without guaranteed supply was a generosity so much the harder to be able to give. The twin gleams on Krayn's hip and ribcage were hard to miss, confirming Jolek's suspicions that he'd needed to be wary... But closing that range to offer a hand in turn did a lot of work to assuage the concern. Projectile weapons this close hindered more than they helped... And the De-Toa knew that. A firm gripping hand closed around his host's, careful not to crush, as he pulled himself up. "Jolek." First names it was, then— he wasn't here to coast on a reputation whose scope he didn't even know anyway. "And wherever he is, I feel like we oughta track him down— I need an explanation, and you guys need proof I'm not lying."