[FIN][Oba] So, ah, how's the escape plan coming? [Saj|Nyko]

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

So, ah, how's the escape plan coming?

Hookers.

No matter how many times Sajah re-ran the events of the past day through his head, it all still sounded preposterous. He didn’t know what to make of the stranger, Xe, his promises or his plans. He didn’t know what to expect, and with every passing minute it all felt all the more ridiculous and confounded—but also, in a distressing sense, something like a large stone already rolling downhill and gaining speed at an alarming rate. Whatever happened would be and there was little he could do about it aside from do his best to not be killed. That seemed forefront on the agenda and so long as he could keep the task list down to a single objective, he felt the chances of success were at least some cut above abysmal.

Not every day provided an opportunity to slip away for even a moment. But, over the years, Sajahka had developed his habits and there were better and worse ways to go about it. He felt that he’d honed it into a special sort of art form, recognizing opportunity to take tasks that would get him close enough and lend enough time to slip in with another household’s ‘help.’ Fish were mostly all the same, after all, when filtered through the lens of red eyes, and Nyko’s special variety of prison was very familiar to Sajah after years of exposure in bits and pieces.

Unlike their Oban masters, the servants the house knew him well, too, enough to know without necessitating that they ask who he was there for. They ushered him in the right direction, and soon, Sajah was slipping through the back ways of the kitchens and towards the larder, listening for the familiar notes of Nyko’s singing, just in case.  

[Painted Moose]

The Only Black Uke

May have been inspired lol

"Think about the love inside the strength of heart
Think about the heroes saving life in the dark
Climbing higher through the fire, time was running out
Never knowing you weren't going to be coming down alive
But you still came back for me
You were strong and you believed"

Nyko tucked a well worn rag into the waist band of his trousers with flourish. His voice echoed against the hard packed clay walls, much to his master' apparent displeasure. The more they told him to stay quiet the louder he got, especially on days they weren't there. Even now when things were at their safest his mother begged Nyko to stay quiet, but he just wouldn't have it.

"Think about the chance I never had to say
Thank you for giving up your life that day
Never fearing, only hearing voices calling out
Let it all go, the life that you know, just to bring it down alive
And you still came back for me
You were strong and you believed"

He lifted a pie plate into the light and inspected his crust. Not nearly as thick as his mother's, but twice as fanciful. Now all he needed was to gather up the fruit, prep the filling and bake it for supper this evening. He might not even spit in it this time; wouldn't that be a dandy thing? Sashaying to his own tune, Nyko rotated his hips around, sat his pie plate back atop the counter and flashed his mother a cheeky grin. The older woman looked ready to have a heart attack at any moment, but he could see her lips moving; he knew she liked it, even if she pretended she didn't. How could she not, when she was the one who taught him to sing?

And why was she pointed to the larder? Nyko quirked a brow and was about to turn away when she threw a fistful of flower at the side of his head. Without stopping her song, she jabbed a pointer finger at the larder. I guess I'm going. Nyko grumbled his way to the larder, mumbling about payback the whole way.  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Painted Moose

Sajah heard the singing just as he approached the larder, and the corner of his lip edged up in spite of himself, his ears flicking in a minute twitch toward the sound. Then, he was stepping in, scouring the bountiful shelves with a hungry eye as his stomach rumbled, and — trusting by the sound alone that Nyko was indeed on his heels thanks to the network of communication among the help — he propped himself up onto the nearest barrel, leaning and snatching down a handful of nuts and pocketing most before settling, feet hooked at the ankles.

When a body filled the entryway, his eyes flicked up. He tilted his head, adjusting a nut to his back teeth and beginning to chew before his fingers flicked, signing, «Your masters’ nuts are salty and old. And then there’s you, noisiest bird in the pantry.»

With Nyko actually in the room, it struck Sajah that, as odd as the most recent developments had seemed to him, while experiencing them first hand before his own eyes, they would sound all the odder and be more difficult to believe when relating to a second source. His brow furrowed. He notched his head to the opposite side, relocating the nut before swallowing.

«So, you will never believe what crawled into my bed last night.»  

[Painted Moose]

The Only Black Uke

Nyko flicked his rag to dispel some of the collected flour. His face was mostly clear by the time he saw Sajahka, though a light smattering remained around his jawline, closest to the base of his ear. His warm orange eyes were almost as bright as his smile which held just the right dosage of mischief to be worrisome. "Should I be concerned that you know what my master's nuts taste like? You know what, never mind; I don't want to know." He held both hands up in an 'x' shape in front of his chest before stuffing the rag back into the waistband of his trousers.

He gracefully ignored the comment about his noisiness. Nyko knew that Sajah secretly adored his vocal talents, especially since he could fill a silence all by himself and keep his grumpy friend from feeling lonely. Sometimes Sajah just neglected to praise him for it.

Thinking at first his friend was joking, Nyko rolled his eyes and began sifting through a crate full of foreign fruit. "Oh, I don't know, a sailscale? Or a little beetle that tried to nibble off your toes-" He tossed a rotten specimen over his shoulder, careless about where it would actually land. When he turned around to look over his shoulder, something about the fellow matorian's bearing seemed different. "Wait..Hold on. Was it a person?"

Nyko turned the crate upside down in an instant, successfully knocking fruit this way and that as well as bruising what pristine specimens remained. He plopped the crate down in front of Sajah, eagerly sat atop it, and scooted as close as he could. "You should have led with that!...Unless it's my master, please say it isn't, I would hope you have better taste than that." Just the knowledge that anyone was sneaking into Sajahka's bed was enough to give Nyko's mind a whirl. The boy just wasn't the type for sordid affairs. Or maybe he was? ....Was he holding out on him?!  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Sajahka watched and listened, holding his peace while Nyko prattled on initially. An eyebrow rise here. A noncommittal head tip there. It wasn’t necessary to attempt to force his fingers to keep up with or respond to everything his friend said, and from his own perspective, that was one of the nice things about Nyko; he filled the silences Sajah left behind and made communication easy.

When Nyko came to his turning point, though, pausing, rounding on him—and then immediately proceeding to get very excited—Sajah’s dotted brow gave the barest upward twitch, yellow eyes following the tumbling fruit before flicking to Nyko as he scooted in and perched.

Sajah grunted.

Then, after taking a protracted pause to consider the best approach—again—and coming up with nothing—again—Sajah eyed the floor a moment. «Wasted fruit. There will be bruises.» But then, because their time might be limited, he added: «A man came to me while I carried to market. He told me family from the islands sent for me. He wants to help me leave. He came to me in the night to explain more. He gave me this.»

Fishing into his pocket, Sajah drew out his mother’s statuette of the sea goddess, tipping it for Nyko to see before clarifying.

«Many were carved, but this one is my mother’s. He is a stranger and I do not trust him.» He took pause, thinking again before adding: «But I am ready to leave this life. I told him if I left it would be with you.»  

[Painted Moose]

The Only Black Uke

"Don't worry about it, I'm making a pie. What I don't use you can have." The words were a harried mess. Nyko waved his hands, urging Sajah to hurry up, spit out the words he needed to hear! Who had time to worry about bruised fruit when a scandal - to Nyko, at least - was on the rise! The young matorian couldn't keep his legs still; they just kept bouncing up and down, practically vibrating him atop the crate.

"Family...?" That seemed to calm Nyko long enough for his features to slacken. This was big. A lot bigger than some stupid affair! For Sajahka to have family looking for him, family looking to take him away...

He scooted closer once more, this time pressing his shoulder against the other's leg. "It's beautiful, Sajah,... but how do you know it's your mother's?" His voice was slightly awe struck. This was just like one of those stories the other servants tried to tell him as a child before his mother shooed them away. "You said yourself, he's a stranger, so we can't be too careful. Still, if this is your mother's...Can you imagine? Sajah, you could leave!"

All at once he was filled with so much hope for his friend, but also so much fear. Fear that this was all one big trick to cause Sajahka more pain, and fear that he might never see him again. If he left...would he even-

And just like that, that particular fear was washed away only to be replaced by a new one. "With me? I think you've had one too many bad nuts today. Are you crazy?! How is this guy going to sneak us both out, and not raise an alarm?"  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Painted Moose

Sajah drew his thumb over the statuette, tracing a notch here, a line there, the way the groove was worn down over one eye. «It has the same marks and carve to it,» he signed. «And color. I know it is. But even if it was not, how would a stranger know to take such a trinket and present it to me as hers?»

Xe had been strange, indeed. Out of nowhere. Oddly physical and excitable, tumbling into Sajah’s life from nowhere and presenting an outlandish offer. Yet, all factors combined, Sajah couldn’t help but get the niggling sense that the young man was genuine in his intentions. Certainly, if he was a con-artist, he was a terrible one, not having come at it all in a less obscure fashion. Surely, a better lie could have been crafted easily. But a strange truth…

Sajah frowned, attention drawn back sharply to his friend when Nyko’s words took a turn, and his shoulders stiffened, hesitance needling back beneath his skin as doubt pooled anew in his gut. He had thought himself that parts of it sounded like insanity, but he supposed part of him had been hoping Nyko would encourage that out of him, somehow.

Instead—

He shook his head. «I do not know. Perhaps you are right and he is mad. I will tell him we refuse.»  

[Painted Moose]

The Only Black Uke

Sajahka had a good point. If this wasn't the real deal then it was an impressive replica. He scrunched up his nose, then reached up to toy with his earrings, as he often did while pondering, only to find they weren't there. For a moment he panicked, until he remembered why he wasn't wearing them. His mother had forbidden it; "If the masters see you with those they'll know you stole them!" Not that he had taken them in the first place; Nyko had purchased them with his own money. Stolen money, mind you, but it had been a fair exchange.

"Hrm?" Realizing he hadn't paid attention as he should have, Nyko caught the last half of Sajah's moving hands and balked. "Don't DO that! All I wanted to know was what the big plan was going to be. You know, the one that doesn't end up with us being caught, beaten and never allowed outside the house ever again. That plan? He did have one, right?"

The wheels were already turning in Nyko's head. He reached up anyway, rubbing at the base of his finned ear while he pondered.  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Oh.

Right.

In retrospect, explaining the plan first did make sense. It was just. Sajah nodded, ‘yes’ Xe had a plan, but: «It’s a terrible plan.» Perhaps that wasn’t fair. And the moment he signed it, he felt that maybe that was coming off too strong on the wrong foot. «It could work…he has a team. They have freed slaves in the past at the request of relatives, in secret. He says they will come dressed as pleasurers in the night to distract the guards, and I will leave with them. He wants meet with you and know how best to work with this house to get you out also.»

The truth of the matter was, if there was indeed an organization, if everything Xe had said was true, if they had all done this before, if there was a team, practiced, and ready, then perhaps it wasn’t a poor plan at all. It seemed unnecessary, since Sajah did leave the house on occasion, and it occurred to him that it might be relevant to bring that up specifically to the other man. But on the whole, if everything Xe said was true, it ought to be manageable.

And if what he said wasn’t true, they were likely doomed anyway.

So perhaps a pinch more optimism was appropriate.

But Sajah did not specialize in optimism.  

[Painted Moose]

The Only Black Uke

Nyko tugged on his ear, distorting the fin just to the point of pain before dropping contact all together. "How terrible?" Words like 'could work' weren't exactly comforting, and didn't instill the kind of confidence that Nyko liked in his 'daring escapes'.

A team, yes, good, previously freed slaves, very nice...dressed as..."You mean whores? They're dressing up like whores to distract the guards? You're right, it's a terrible plan, but it could work. Let's just hope all of your guards are sexually frustrated and ready to abandon their posts for a little quickie." He didn't mean to come off so facetious, but the whole thing had a lot of loop holes. Big ones, ones that even Nyko could see.

He shook his head. "I don't need help getting out; it's easier for me to slip out on my own, anyway. I just need a place to meet up." The thing of it was that Nyko could have left years ago. He just didn't want to. There was no way he was going to sleep on the streets when he didn't have to, even if he hated it here. But this...this he could change his mind for.

"And before you sign anything, I can be sneaky and I can be quiet."  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Sajahka nodded. Whores. Yes, whores.

His eyes flicked to Nyko, eyeing him as he verbally processed the idea of it all. Sexually frustrated indeed. He grunted. It did seem plausible, however, and the fact of the matter was that all he needed was to get out and get gone. Between a team of them and with Nyko in the mix, it seemed surely doable. It wasn’t exactly as though a break-away would be expected. Things had been as they were for years now, and the time was as ripe as it would likely ever be.

Hearing Nyko say he could make it out of his own accord, too, only made the plan simpler, and he supposed it made sense. Nyko’s house lords were even less specifically stringent in terms of keeping their ‘help’ under guard. They were relying on the fact that none of them had any means to support themselves or places to go if they left.

Oddly, hearing Nyko tell him not to be concerned had the opposite effect, and his eyes narrowed to a squint, suddenly inordinately suspicious and fearing the worst. Still. He didn’t suppose he had a better suggestion.

He puffed. «Be careful.» With the assertion, it settled on him how very real all of this was. No longer an obscure suggestion from a stranger, and so far away now from all the musing talk from younger years of grand escape attempts and what would be done when they got away. This would actually be attempted soon, and it inspired a stammer in his pulse and a quickening of blood through his veins. «Where would be best for you? I will speak again with him and tell him you need only meet and follow…» He hesitated. «You are sure it is safe for you?»

In fairness, he couldn’t imagine that adding a stranger to the mix of Nyko’s master’s house would somehow make Nyko’s escape simpler or easier, but still the thought of him being left fully to his own devices, particularly after Nyko’s ‘reassurance’ reminded him of just how much Nyko did not fit into the category of careful and inconspicuous.  

[Painted Moose]

The Only Black Uke

Nyko thrummed his fingers on his thigh before pushing up to his feet. His bare feet kicked at a now bruised fruit as he moved towards the other end of the larder and back. He was pacing; as much as one could in such a small space, anyway, with a little lyrical hum in the back of his throat.

"...if I...no, wait, if I just...hrm." Nyko tapped the heel of his foot against the cool clay floor. "Mother will have questions. She always does." There was a hint of something in his voice; sadness? Fear? "Is it called irony when we're leaving thanks to a plan your family made up and in the process I'm leaving mine behind? Is that what irony is? Because...this really sucks, actually. If I tell her about it she'll rat me out, and it's not like I can bring her with me, she wouldn't go, but-" Nyko clucked his tongue and shook his head. No, he couldn't tell her, but leaving without saying anything felt wrong. He had a lot to think about.

"Is any of this really safe, Sajah?" Nyko stepped closer to his friend and placed his palms on either side of the other's hips, holding onto the wooden barrel as he leaned in close. He had a sort of maniacal look to him; one of a boy who was being promised the world and to hell with the consequences. "Let's just stop talking about all the bad things that could happen and think about this. Freedom. Real freedom!" He laughed and shook the barrel a little before pulling back. "FREEDOM!" Heedless of who would hear him, Nyko let out a whooping laugh and punched the air above his head.  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Sajahka waited, yellow eyes following Nyko as he paced and earfins flicking as he listened. When his friend began to speak of his mother, a foreign guilt needled its way into his gut, and pooled there. He had not even thought of Nyko’s mother. When he’d been approached and an escape plan discussed, his only thought other than himself—the audacity of the situation as a whole aside—had been for Nyko. His guilt only further cemented himself as his next thought materialized: Please don’t tell her…don’t ask that she come along.

As much as he wanted for Nyko’s happiness, his friend’s mother had ever been infamously adamant about remaining where they were, and regardless of Nyko’s thoughts on the matter, Sajahka could only bring himself to feel private detest for the woman—so selfish that she was not only unwilling, but bound and determined not to risk disturbing her own contentment with a stagnant, caged lifestyle even with her son before her eyes every day wishing and wanting for more while his life was squandered toiling under her masters.

Sajahka had the tact at least to keep such thoughts to himself.

And then Nyko was no longer feet away, but inches from his face. Quick as a trigger pull, the rest of Sajah’s thoughts flatlined to nothing and all he could think was that Nyko was right there inspiring a rushing fleet of warmth up his throat, through his cheeks and out to the tips of his earfins. He raised a hand, and whether to sign or touch to Nyko’s chest in gentle reminder that personal space was a concrete concept would never be known because the next instant—

Sajahka made a garbled cough of a sound.

Nyko was yelling.

Nyko was yelling within the walls of his own masters’ house—and Sajah was upright, darting for his friend and clapping a hand over his friend’s mouth in a base-instinct move to muzzle the sound as soon as possible. Without the use or view of his hands, his hissed grunt of a panicked ‘reprimand’ a half-inch from Nyko’s ear would have to suffice in communicating, ‘If they hear you now—’  

[Painted Moose]

The Only Black Uke

It was all so terrifying and new and promising that Nyko couldn't help wanting to shout it all out! If everything worked out then he wouldn't have to bake another pie in unless he wanted to! Hell, he could even pay someone else to make it, and pick what flavors he wanted to boot! He barely registered Sajah's mangled sound of protest, so lost was he in his own mini celebration.

He was vaguely aware of some noises coming from the kitchen, voice-like noises, but Nyko didn't care! Let them hear him! He would shout again if they- "Mmph-rmm!" Initially he struggled against Sajah's hand, reaching his hands up to try to pull that one, lone clamp away from his lips. Eventually he was able to slide his friends fingers down far enough to free himself, though by that point footsteps were already moving towards the larder.

Nyko stilled, hands still holding Sajah's against his chin and body half pressed against the others. When his mother's withered face peered around the entryway the teenager relaxed considerably.

Zarna didn't look pleased, nor did she look especially shocked, to find Sajahka there. "Nyko, what have I told you about keeping your voice down? The masters will hear you."

She looked down to the discarded fruit and visibly winced, frustration growing on her features. "And you've made a mess - again." Clucking her tongue, Zarna bent down and began to gather bits of fruit into her apron. "Sajahka, if you want to stay you're going to have to help. We're behind as it is."  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Painted Moose

Since it'd take a really long time and lots of dedication and effort on the part of the learner (and Sajah for that matter), I don't imagine too many people even understand his sign language, though some of those who have frequent contact with him may have learned some basics purely by exposure - do you think Zarna would be the sort to know or make an effort to learn, or only know whatever stray key signs she's happened to have picked up on?

It was not so much that Sajahka was bent on keeping his hand permanently over his friend’s loud mouth, but at the beginning of Nyko’s shouting his heart had thrown itself so wildly against the cage of his chest in a panic that when Nyko first struggled, instinct bid him to continue holding. Hold until Nyko had calmed, until he understood shouting was not an acceptable course of action if they both wanted to survive, and until—

Footsteps made Sajah’s heart stutter anew, and this time, he was locked in his position, too temporarily frozen with nerves to do anything when Nyko’s fingers worked his hand down, and the door opened. But it was only Zarna.

He breathed again. Nyko’s body relaxed against him. His hand loosened its grip, falling to Nyko’s shoulder and—then and only then, as Zarna stepped into the room and the rest of his nerves subsided, did it occur to Sajah how very close the entire interaction had brought them and exactly what position they were now in while Nyko’s mother moved past them. Nyko’s back to his chest, hair in his face, rear against his—

He skirted backwards, dropping contact on all fronts, nodding—she had said something to him hadn’t she?—and dipping his head, moving down as he did to begin helping tidy Nyko’s mess in the hopes that that fully distracted from whatever heat remained in his cheeks as he worked.

He couldn’t stay long, but while he was here it would be useful if he could get an ideal meeting location out of Nyko at some point, and standing about idly would only beg drawing attention to himself. The benefit, at least, of his hand language was that as soon as Zarna was not looking and Nyko was, he could work his question in, giving his friend the full benefit of however long they had to wait until Zarna was out of their presence again to consider his answer.