Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ozzrick couldn’t help but note that there were indeed a number of eyes on them, and generally, he may not have. He was used to being the ‘odd man out’ among a crowd. He traveled so far from Tale so frequently, he rarely fit in. But Tacrith even less so, and he happened to be potently aware that Tacrith cared a great deal more about it than he did—so, for once, it was all just a touch more irritating.

He brushed it off.

People would stare, and no matter how it bothered the young doctor, there was nothing he could do about it no matter how much he might have liked to. Instead, he focused on what he could do: distracting the man and turning his attention to what was before them. “We can manage that,” he said with a bit of a grin. “And yes. I suppose…I have probably spent more time away from my ‘native’ homeland than I have in it, as odd as that might seem to most. Certainly I have spent significant portions of time there, but I think as compared to Sauti, Zena, Oba and otherwise…in combination, Tale may not hold up. I’ve been exposed to much, since I was very small, so it’s fairly normal for me…”

As his gaze wandered across the table to Tacrith, he couldn’t help but note how very abnormal it must all be to him. But, again, there was little he could do about it immediately. Instead, when a server came to wait on them, he made the order, putting in a request for as much variety and flavors ‘easy on a tourist’s gut’ as could be managed—which was taken in stride.

“Perhaps you’ll find you like more than you think once you have the chance to taste it,” he offered as he waited. “I know uncharted territory can be daunting, but everything is familiar to someone. All the new food of foreign lands is the home cooked meal of someone else at some point…I like to think of it as getting to know a place, like you might get to know a person.”

Ozzrick listened, and then tisked with a soft snort. Tacrith must have at least once upon a time had the slightest bit of adventurous spirit, if he’d intended to explore all of his homeland. Even without the invaders, it was still a substantial island and the natural elements provided hazard enough. He could guess that the circumstances which followed the man’s childhood—from his injury at whatever point it occurred to the alkidike, which were more recent—to whatever degree they limited him in combination were at least in part to blame for much of his hesitancy.

Which made it workable.

“Your stomach might be stronger than you think,” he encouraged. “If it smells and tastes good it likely won’t upset you too much. Everything here is going to be fit for consumption, I promise. As opposed to…rocking decks, which I can also promise upset most people…even many who are very accustomed to it.”

And, when the food did come, Oz felt his own stomach reminding him of how hungry he’d been to begin with. A broad platter of varied dishes was set before them: a pleasant mild dip of anzo beans, richened by light tahini spice and balanced with a spritz of stringent fruit juice and garlic; fragrant, roasted vegetable cut open and blended with a center of spices and ground nuts; a tangy yogurt with sliced, crisp green toppings and dill; a bean patty with a side sauce; something the locals called only ‘dolmas’ which was a fruit leaf encased around a savory filling of rice, chopped unions, and crumbling white cheese; and a thin, classic light flatbread layered in triangles around half an edge for dipping in the varied sauces also available.

Ozzrick reached without hesitance, taking up a piece of flatbread and digging in—as civilly as his hunger would allow.

Oz snorted, tongue clicking at the initial statement before he took a bite, chewed, and swallowed, flashing a grin after. “All these are taste tested, gut tested, and proven healthy to the common palette,” he assured. “It would just be a matter of those yours in particular isn’t accustomed to…which…” He shrugged, “…could be a broad variety, depending on your genetics. So far as I have seen, there are picky and wide tastes, finicky and durable stomachs…it’s just a matter of what you’re allotted. Yes, some things are deceptive and poisonous to everyone, but…”

He reached, picking up one of the wrapped leaf rolls, steamed nicely, and biting into the combination of seasoned rice and cheese with a pleased hum. He wagged a finger, swallowing before speaking up again.

“Nothing here is that. You might find it doesn’t suit your gut, but it would only be if your gut was sensitive to things the people here aren’t. Nothing is toxin in disguise.”

Fortunately, Tacrith seemed to agree, working in a methodical way through his food before the last portion of their dish — a split, grilled, and seasoned fish, spiced and sided by decorative fruit — arrived at the table.

“Did you tell me you didn’t know how to swim?” Oz recalled curiously as he plucked up a bit of fish.

With the meal, Ozzrick had ordered a wine, and water. He wasn’t certain what Tacrith would prefer and was well aware the man wasn’t the most fond of his initial ale consumption—but that was no matter. Water was free and wine was tasteful, and he personally enjoyed a little liquor with his meal. So he sipped it while he ate, not feeling much himself but the light warming effect of alcohol generally—his body was fairly accustomed and did not tend to become especially impaired unless he made a conscious effort to overburden it.

At the admittance, though, he clicked his tongue. “You should let me teach you. I think now that I’m sure we’ve been over this. We’re going to be on the sea. And generally around the water for some time yet whether…” He hesitated, rolling the wine in his cup and frowning as he thought on it. Well, thinking on it more wouldn’t change the facts. “Whether you or I like it or not, you will be about the water a great deal in the coming weeks before you make it home…it’s a useful skill and it’s not dangerous or unpleasant to learn. I wouldn’t mind sparing a bit of time.”

Ozzrick was pleased to note — though he chose not to pressure either way — that after a time, Tacrith took to at least sampling the wine. He didn’t intend to get the man drunk. There was no need. It wasn’t a date, and even if it were, that wasn’t his style. He simply wanted the man to feel more at ease, and in modest amounts, alcohol aided that. Personally, he was fond of it, and fairly accustomed.

So, to see Tacrith sip was encouraging, and he let him take what he would of it.

“Whenever you feel ready,” he assured. “The water here is warm, and there is ample shallow ground to become accustomed. You can wear whatever you like, and it won’t be dangerous in the least. Besides, it’s enjoyable. Just like the food can be.” He flashed teeth again, as if making a point before taking up another hunk of bread and popping it into his mouth.

So far as he was concerned, there was much to be appreciated in the world, if one gave it a chance. It was mostly a matter of exposure and mindset.

“Of course,” Oz agreed.

He kept the conversation light after that, talking mostly of whatever came to mind—random tidbits of information about their new surroundings that he considered useful to know, how he had come here in the first place, and eventually some about his own troupe that he had left behind. He didn’t pressure the other man for activity. After all, he would learn whatever interested in him if and when it did, should he see fit.

In the meantime, it wasn’t really his business to push.

By the time they both finished, it was fully dark out, and though the music was tempting, Oz hadn’t spent much of his time drinking, and he didn’t really have time or proper opportunity to go seeking personal entertainment. It seemed best instead to walk his company back to the security of the ship, and as they made it out of the livelier establishment into the cooling night air, the drop in noise was immediately apparent.

“Is there anything in particular you would like to accomplish before returning to your homeland? Since you are here regardless…”

Ozzrick stretched his arms over his head languidly, appreciating the pleasant, very mild tingle of warmth left in his veins by the minimal amount of alcohol he had consumed, and at Tacrith’s statement, and question to follow, he glanced down, blinking with surprise. Though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. It was very in line with what of the man’s character he had seen, after all: all business. Practicality. Forward progress.

“I can show you the library, certainly,” he said, “though it isn’t what the one in Sulburi would be…I’m sure it would still be something. Different from what you’re used to, and with new information…” He tipped his head, glancing out to the surrounding buildings as they made their way down the path back towards the docks. “I am not certain if there is a single ‘clinic’ here…there are a number of healers. Many of them have their own private practices. There might be a group association…”

After a moment of thought, he rolled his shoulders.

“I’ll ask, and see what I can scrounge up. Regardless, I am sure there will be much to learn. The landscape and its various ailments are all very different here. I’m sure some things cross over, but…” He glanced towards his company. “I do think you will learn things you couldn’t on Yael, simply by virtue of exposure…”