Obi and Miho's reunion after several years

1 year before Game Start, TheLazyParrot, WidowsWake, BoatHouse, VestaColony

LordObi
LadyMiho

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Miho sat in the not-quite dark back corner of the bar, a smile lifting her lips as she sipped at the yeasty beer. She recognized the man at the table next to hers, just outside of the shadows. He probably noticed her when he sat down, but his gaze skittered over her without recognition. But then... it was half a lifetime ago when they last saw each other. Half her lifetime. She was no longer the skinny monkey of a girl hanging from the rigging who had tossed nutshells down on his head because she wanted a proper introduction.

Her smile grew. She took three tiny pieces of paper from the corner of the sheet in front of her and wrote "turn around" upon the largest of the three. Then she crumpled it up into a small ball and tossed it, so it would land upon the table, quickly followed by a gentle pelting against his arm by the two smaller paper missiles.

Then she sat back, her almost-gone beer cradled in her hands, and watched from the shadows to see what her cousin Obi would do.

Obi is dressed in traveling clothes, still with the road's dust on them. Black leggings with silver piping were tucked into high red leather boots. His vest of black and silver embroidery hung over a nearby chair, where stood his walking stick and haversack. The red shirt had full sleeves and matched the feather that hung from his left ear. He snatches the first paper as it lands and was speads it open to read even as the other two hit his arm. A curious smile curls his lip as chocolate eyes turned her way.

Her head cocks, and she smiles, almond shaped eyes regarding him. She lowers her mug to set it quietly upon the table.

"I've been hit on in bars from here to Vesta, but except a few misunderstandings, it's not normally by projectiles," he chuckles.

"I'm Obi," the man offers as he rose from his chair to greet the young woman. "And you are?" He makes a simple bow at the waist and raises her hand to his lips, waiting for a name before actually taking such liberty.

"You do not recognize me?" She leans forward, looking up at him. "It has been half my lifetime since I pelted you with shells, but not nearly so much of yours, Cousin. Do you forget things when you get so old?" Humor twinkles in her eyes. "I am Miho."

"Miho? Gerard's Miho?" he asks looking her over again. "That's not possible," Obi decides releasing her hand as if it were venomous. He takes a step back from the table defensively.

Miho's eyes widen as he steps back. She pulls her hand back to her mug, lifting it to take a sip as she watches him, as if it were no matter that he runs from her.

"Miho was no larger than a bilge rat. A monkey that capered aloft like the sheets were the jungles of Uzoma," he remembers. "You bear no resemblance to her other than your keen aim."

His gaze watches her keenly. "What deviousness is this to catch an old man unaware and confuse him?"

"No deviousness save the passage of time," Miho says. "I have passed my twentyfifth birthday, and six years ago came of majority in the way that our family does. I have been spending time between Amber and otherwhere since. And I am certain my father's crew is relieved to see the monkey gone from their rigging." She smiles.

"It is good to see you again, cousin." She stands, there in the shadows, faint light showing her average height and slender build. She is dressed in what almost looks to be a daydress appropriate to Amber, but Obi can see the shadows where the skirt is split for riding or ease of movement. Dark hair is pulled back from her face, and hangs down to the middle of her back. "Would you join me for a drink, and to tell me of yourself in these dozen years past?"

The mock suspicion drops from his face like a mask removed after a dance. His voice is warm and youthful as ever as he swoops in an picks her up, spinning her around in his embrace. "Miho, little wave!"

Her arms go about his neck and she laughs, a soft sound, tucking her feet in so that they do not strike a table as he whirls her about. She settles back on the ground with the ease of someone accustomed to finding balance.

Setting her down gently, he laughs. "A drink? The meeting of family such as ours is rare enough that it should be met by more than just a drink. Have you eaten yet?"

Without waiting for an answer he tunrs and calls to the barkeep. "Norwood, bring us four of those birds I smell roasting, two loaves of bread, a large crock of the butter and a pitcher of whatever *my cousin*is drinking."

"To start," he adds with a wink for his cousin.

"You would stuff me so full I could sink my father's ship," she says with a smile. "My horse will stagger beneath my weight to drag me back to the castle."

"Sit, sit," he smiles as he takes a seat himself at her table. "A dozen years since your father taught me the art of laying a path, or more appropriately corrected my sloppy attempts at it," he remembers, the feather bobbing as he shook his head. "Well, at least paper doesn't hurt like walnut shells."

"So, who goes first? And no arguements over age or beauty. Having both I always win."

Miho sits as well, back in her corner, hands curling around her nearly empty mug. "Then you will win this," she says. "I sought your company first, and award of first question goes to me, my cousin. Tell me of your life in these past dozen years, Obi. I can assure you, your tale will outweigh mine for interest."

"Where to begin?" Obi muses as the food begins to arrive. Norwood smiles a greeting at Miho and fills her mug as his daughter lays platters on the table. Once he's taken a draught of his own mug, Obi leans back an examines the timbers of the common room. "Well, once your father had whipped me in line and I had left his ship, the Court sent me about as is the Crown's wont. Gohaut, Epirus, most of the Golden Circle I think over the last decade. I saw our cousin Diomedes but two years ago."

"I hope time has found him well," Miho murmurs. "It has been some years since we last sailed the same seas."

"In fact, other than making a few of my shortcuts a bit more stable, I haven't been called upon to blaze any new paths since I learned it," he admits as he tears a bit of the meat from the bird. He eats with his fingers, delighting in each bite and licking them clean.

"But you're asking for something interesting, not the dreary duties of a royal messenger," he relents. "Tell me of your travels and I'll trade you a story."

"My travels are but quiet and sedate, as expected of a daughter of Amber." Miho smiles. "In truth, life held more danger and more adventure when I sailed my father's seas as a girl. Since the Pattern... I go out for short times, and return here for short times. Little seems to find me a place called home. Perhaps next I should sail again." She cocks her head. "I tried to walk as far as I could in shadow once, when I first went out. I found a place where the skies were brilliant emerald green, reflected off of two lazy suns. It is the place where I stayed the longest, with friends of brief lives and pets of even briefer. I thought to keep a companion... a creature of soft velvet skin that fit in my pocket and climbed upon my shoulder like a monkey... but he did not survive the passing from shadow to shadow. I would not take another from its home since that." Soft shadows light within her eyes at the story, as slender a tale as it is.

"It's why we feast, Little Wave," Obi answers. "Even among infinite shadows, Family is unique. There's a reason that so few of us stay away from home longer than a couple years." He lays a reassuring hand on hers and winks.

"So, emerald skies and two suns," he seems to be considering before leaning out to snatch his haversack from the chair at the other table. From one of the outer pockets of the weatherbeaten container he produces a journal, it's cover well worn. Licking his fingers clean again, he flips toward the beginning. "Did the natives have a name for it? I don't think I've seen true emerald skies. Hmmm... Here's something more Seafoam, but there were two moons and I wasn't there long enough to see the sun or suns."

Miho slides her chair closer, coming out of the shadows so that she sits next to him rather than across, so she can look at the journal as well. "It was more brilliant than that, almost glassy shiny," she says, one fingertip touching the page. "How long was the night, there, that you did not stay until day?"

There are no pictures in the journal, not more than some scribblings in Obi's tight hand. Miho had seen similar things shipboard, rutters that chronicled new passages, almost as important as the charts to the navigator. "It was only a watch or two that I paused. It was quiet enough to catch some sleep before continuing on," he explained. He was obviously more comfortable sharing the rutter with her than any navigator would have been without orders from a Captain.

"Most of my trips are close enough that the shadows don't start to run away, if you've been far enough to understand that." He seems to think that last sentence made perfect sense.

Miho shakes her head; she does not understand.

"Reality is like waves," he begins with an analogy she can understand. "And Shadow is the sand, one holding the other. As you walk away from the ocean, there's less reality to hold the sands together, and even an initate will start to feel them slip between their fingers."

Miho nods that this, at least, makes sense.

"I went pretty far once, back after Uncle Corwin disappeared, but I was alot more impulsive then." A hunk of the dark bread suits to mop up some the the dripped grease on his platter.

"I have not ventured far at all, yet," Miho admits. "I have had no reason to, and have stayed somewhat close to Amber. But then, I am young, and you are old enough to have seen it all, cousin," she teases. "Perhaps when I am as ancient as you, I will have seen a tenth of what your eyes have seen."

"Again with the 'ancient'," he chuckles. ""Keep it up and I'll decide that I'm old enough to paddle you like your father apparently didn't do often enough." It's perhaps a nod to her growing up that the threat carries a hint of sexual suggestion.

"But I have always been perfectly behaved." Her voice holds a tone of wounded innocence, but her eyes are still smiling. Teasing. "Perhaps I see in your experience something to envy. And to learn from. I was taught to revere my elders at a young age, and then to respect those in positions of power." Her gaze meets his frankly, and some of the teasing drops away. "I would ask that someday you help me learn that knowledge that you carry." What knowledge she asks for is suddenly difficult to say, reading in her eyes, but then abruptly she smiles again and the intensity of the moment is broken.

Obi picks up his drink to fill the space for a moment. "Someday Miho, you'll be as old as I am now and instead of being six times your age, I'll only be twice. By then you will have figured it out." He waits for the obvious question.

"Figured what out?" she asked.

"That the illusion of age granting wisdom is just that... an illusion. Life is experiences, and you're well ahead of me. I was almost your age before I ever set foot outside Uzoma and then I spent another four decades shackled to Prince Eric." He doesn't seem upset with either of those events, just noting them as facts. "You're a marvelous hand if you grew into half the potential your father's crew always claimed you had and you've definitely seen more of shadow than I had at your age."

"Thank you," Miho murmurs with a smile. "Perhaps then there are things I have to teach as well, and we should travel together and learn someday."

"Definitely. I'd love to sail with you some day," he answers, his smile warm. "I'll see that you get a rutter for your own use, and if we're not exploring together, well then we can always compare notes later."

Miho nods.

"I'm sure there are things we can share already," Obi says as his hand finds hers for a gentle squeeze.

Her hand turns in his to squeeze back. "We should compare notes, when dinner is done."

Obi nods agreement. Dinner is consumed amid small talk. The messenger draws Miho out on her shadow and her pets. He's aware that she's not thrilled with what happened, but he tries to use it as an example of the differences in shadow.

He realizes quickly that Miho has no pets left... and that while she loves shadow itself, she has come to regard the creatures of shadow almost disturbingly temporary. And that this saddens her.

She avidly drinks in everythng he can tell her of shadow, and quietly tries to turn the conversation to his own travels and what he has seen and learned.

"That was lovely," he says, tossing Norwood a few extra coins as he hooks his bag with his staff. "A walk?" he offers. "We can discuss our trip."

Her soft smile brightens with quiet warmth. "If you would care to walk down by the docks, I will show you my Widow's Wave."

"Is she big enough to take us?" he asks with interest, turning their path toward the docks. His normally long stride is cut to allow her to steer him toward the berth.

"She is," Miho says.

"Tell me about her," he suggests.

Her expression shines with pride. "She is my own craft, since shortly before I took the Pattern. I did not like being landbound, and once I learned the ways of acting in polite society, I treated myself to a way to escape back to what I thought of as my home. She is long, and just deep enough for a cabin, and very fast and maneuverable. Easy to sail by one, but comfortable for two. More comfortable on a day trip than overnight - the cabin is small."

As they approach the dock, Miho gestures to where the craft dances upon the light waves, while remaining bound at the dock.

"Well, I'm sure we can arrange something," he smiles. "We are scions of the line. We can avoid the Royal Way and still find a port each evening I would think."

"If not, it wouldn't be the first time I've slept on the deck. Permission to come aboard, Captain?" Obi asked, a serious tone in his voice.

"Of course." Miho steps aboard first, and reaches back to give him a hand stepping onto the craft.

Looking over her lines he sees nothing that worries him, not that he expected anything less from Miho. "Where does her name come from?"

Miho ducks into the cabin and emerges in time for the question, a bottle of wine and two glasses in her hands. "Ah... she was named when I was still a young girl. I named her for one of my Father's crew. He was kind to a girl, who adored him. He used to tease that when I was grown, we would run away and wed, and as a girl I thought perhaps, even though he teased, he would see when I was grown and do so. He died, and Father brought me to Amber."

She hands Obi a glass and then twists the cork free of the bottle and offers to pour him a glass.

"She's lovely, and a fine way to honor a memory," he says saluting the mast with his glass.

With a soft smile, Miho raises her glass as well, and takes a sip.

"So where would you like to take her?" Obi asks. "And should we be telling someone other than the harbor master where we're going?"

"I have been coming and going without need to notify since I took the Pattern," Miho says. "There is no one need know. If you would like, I will sail if you would navigate through the ways of Shadow. I would be interested to see where your whims would lead." She takes another sip, then settles her glass into a holder along the side of the deck so that she can move to untie the craft from the dock.

"Well, if anyone important enough for me to really care needs me, odds are in favor that they have my Trump," he decides after a moment's thought.

Obi adds his glass to hers in the holder and heads to the stern line and nods her toward the bow. The next few minutes are a flurry of activity, Obi taking his direction from Miho. He's familiar enough that he can follow any orders he's given, but doesn't presume to know the craft better than her mistress.

Miho's directions are clear, her movements fluid. It is obvious that after years of having sailed this particular craft, she and the ship have developed an almost symbiotic relationship. Yet, she doesn't make Obi feel intrusive upon it, and is more than happy to have his help.

"So, my whims?" he chuckles, eyes sparkling with mirth as he regains his wine. "Two points to port if you will, Captain."

It's a good hour along the coast until he attempts to shift them away from Amber, starting simply with the play of moonlight on the waters, letting the darker shadows become the color beneath crystal clear waters. The black beach suggesting that rounding the point there should yield a volcano that contributed to all that sand and then behind them, over the volcano's southern slope a warm glow of a candy red sun rising. Birds from the now volcanic island started their morning chorus and Obi extended a hand so one might alight on his arm. He writes a small note and ties it to the bird's leg and sends it off.

Miho watches as the bird alights, and then is sent off again. "What note did you send, and to where?" she asks.

"It's a trick Corwin taught me," he answers. "Years ago, obviously."

She nods.

"Sometimes my subconscious knows the way better than I do in Shadow," Obi explains, heading below for a moment and returning with a few oranges. Long fingers rip into the skin of one after he offers another to Miho. "I sent a message that tells me simply where I'm going, so I'll know when I've arrived."

Miho's smile spreads. "Then it is truly your whim, your desire, that we follow. This will be a lovely trip." She peels the orange, and pops a segment into her mouth, savoring the sweet juice. She sets the remaining pieces into a holder on the side of the deck and climbs up to adjust the sail. "So now we sail until we find your bird, and then we are where you wish to go."

"Something like that," Obi agreed. "But now that we've gotten a little distance, I can take things easier. And she's beautiful in the light," he adds.

A bite of the orange interrupts the end of the statement, "The Widow's Wave, too."

Miho smiles a soft, slow smile. "You speak with sweet words, Obi, and I thank you for the compliment. For myself and my ship."

She relaxes onto a seat on one of the benches across from him. "It is the sea," she says. "The light here is magical."

She turns her attention from the sky to her companion. "I know so little of you, Cousin. Tell me something of yourself, when you were my age and the world was new."

"Twenty-six? I was never twenty six," he chuckles. "Well, I suppose I might have been at on time or another." Content that the ship still had the wind and that the horizon would hold islands, infact a small archipelligo, he sat beside her and put his feet up on a hatch.

"I had been Eric's squire but a few years at that time," he begins. "It was the first time I had ever seen the creatures of Weirmonken. Their land reminded me greatly of the True Earth, but always darker, even by day. Have you ever met any of the Weir?"

Miho holds out a section of her orange, offering it quietly as she shakes her head. "Never. Describe them to me?"

"Most days, they're not much different than you or me," he explained accepting the fruit with a smile. "They're a tribal society, with close ties to natavistic shamanism. Each tribe calls a particular animal as their totem, or in their tongue it best translates to 'power animals'. They're generally a little larger than most of Amber's citizens, which isn't as noticable in the men, save the broader shoulders, but the women?"

"Rose-Among-Thorns would dwarf most of the ladies in Grandfather's court, and perhaps scare them as well. It's not that she's primitive or anything of that sort, although they might consider her such," Obi mentioned. "She's possessed of an almost feral grace. She's closely tied to the Great Cat, and in her tribe, the women are the huntresses." A small smile curls his lip in remembrance.

"Amber prefers strength in women in different ways," Miho comments quietly. "Where are the Wier? It sounds as if you stayed there some time... for such... fond memories to form." Her smile reaches her eyes, teasing him.

"No more than a few days out from Amber, even by the longer paths," Obi answers, seemingly oblivious to her implications. "As to time there, well... tribal is a loose term I suppose. They're more pack like, and Uncle Eric is the alpha male. I learned to hunt in Uzoma as a young man, but what I learned in Weir... it's like comparing apples to these oranges."

"We never stayed over long away from Amber, but we did hunt there often and I became fast friends with Dark-Wind, Rose-Among-Thorns's brother. I even saved his life once, taking down a wyvern that had scented him during a hunt." He adds the last matter-of-factly.

Miho turns, her knees almost touching his as she looks at him. "Tell me about it?" she asks.

"We were near the edge of the Velt, stalking a hyena that had been preying on their herd..." Obi begins, weaving a tale of the two men hunting in no more than the clothes he was wearing, and in fact, a bit less. It seems that Obi hunted with the Weir much like he had in Uzoma, wearing naught but a loincloth. His eyes are far away as he recounts the day's hunt and then the return trip to Dark-Wind's tribe and the viscious predator that fell upon them, more interested in the hyena's carcass in truth, but dangerous all the same. He shows her the scar along his thigh from the wyvern's dorsal ridge. He mimes driving his spear into the seperation between the ridge plates and the neck collar, and smiles as he remembers the feast and Eric's praise that evening.

"So, that's Weirmonken and her people, I suppose," he finishes with a little chuckle.

Miho's attention remains close and rapt as he speaks, following his expressive motions. At the end, she is smiling. "Dina once told me you are the brother of her heart. And now you tell me of another brother. It seems you find your family and bring them close to you."

"Family is important," Obi agrees. "Brother of her heart? I suppose I like that," he adds with a wink. He's on his feet with a liquid motion, at the wheel impulsively, turning the craft to port, between two of the larger islands that have risen over the horizon as they spoke.

"They always say that you can't choose your family, but I haven't found that to be true," Obi said as he tied off the wheel again. "We always choose the people we love, and they're as much family as those we share blood with. Hells, in a family of immortals, the people we love are even closer than those seperated by centuries at times."

Miho watches the islands, looming slowly closer as the craft sails towards them now. She reaches up to tuck long strands behind her ear as she ducks her head to use the wind to help tame her hair, not hinder.

"But those we love, not of our blood, are so..." She stops, then, and looks at Obi. "It is hard to give one's heart to someone who will be gone before the next beat."

"Yes," Obi answers, remembering a woman with deep, dark eyes. "And in youth even easier," he admits. Closing his own eyes, the one time farmer sees the woman, smiling stooped among the rows of yams. "But, like Shadow, love is infinite. When I found mother, I did not love my father's wife any less. When I found Dark-Wind, he did not replace Dina in my heart."

"The span of a life, doesn't make it any less precious or less worthy of love," he says, his eyes meeting hers. "And nothing, should ever make you afraid to love, Miho."

"Have you loved?" she asks quietly. "What did you do... when it hurt...?"

Obi shook himself from the quiet memories of Uzoma. "A century ago, my wife Dakarai passed while giving birth to my son. He passed shortly after," he answers distantly.

"I'm sorry," Miho whispers.

"Love always hurts, Miho," Obi said. "It's a passion, and anything that intense will always leave marks. When the pain is bittersweet, you focus on the sweet."

"When it hurts to breathe?" A wry smile curls his lip. "I find new air and new love, knowing that distance and time will let me keep my memories alive."

"So I shall learn to travel the waves, and when time moves on, let them take me where they will to heal?" Miho asks quietly. She shifts in her seat, turning to look out over those waves again. "I am yet young. I am certain my heart will be broken many times before I am as old as you." She glances at Obi sideways, a small smile tilting her lips as she teases him again to take the sting from their conversation.

"And I'm certain that you'll be the one breaking the hearts, long before you're anyplace near my venerable years," Obi assures her. He leans over and kisses her on the cheek before heading to the wheel again. Between the islands a larger coastline was taking shape.

"Surely there must be sailors and merchants and factors all along the docks of a multitude of Shadows thinking of a quiet voyage, just the two of you, the waves gently cradling you..."

Miho laughs, a soft sound, ducking her head with an almost shy look that brings to mind blushes, although her skin does not warm. "Perhaps there are, but none have yet to tell me so. What do you think your desires bring us to?" She nods at the coastline that the head towards, looking more closely at it to see whether it is township or city that awaits, or even uninhabited lands.

"I'm truly not sure, but the land is somehow recognizable to me," he says scratching at his head. "If about that headland there we find a boathouse, I think within we'll find my bike and then it seems I will have brought you someplace I've not brought any save my mother, Miho."

"It seems my desire is to trust you," he chuckles. "Before that, what say you to a swim?"

Her eyes widen slightly, her head cocked.

"If you say these are good waters for swimming, then I say Aye." She stretches, unfolding slender limbs. "I should change into more suitable wear for water before diving in, else flounder amidst wet clothes to drag upon me. Would you swim to shore and anchor here, or swim just to swim?"

Obi begins drawing off his vest and shirt. "I think we should swim to swim," he decides. "There's enough dock at the boathouse to put the Widow aside and she'll be safer there should a storm come up while we're exploring Vesta."

He sits again and kicks off his red leather boots, smiling at Miho, something more than amusement at the corners of his mouth.

Miho stills, watching as Obi bares his chest. A slow smile starts, warmth, hope, nerves warring in her eyes before she looks away. A faint flush has risen to darken the skin of her face. She moves again when he sits, her motion seemingly freed by his, and takes steps to the cabin. "I likely have something for you in the cabin, should you wish to wear something other than your underthings, or skin, as you swim." She pauses at the door to give him a moment to answer. "But if you prefer either of the former, I would not be offended."

"Nor would I, if you were to join me," he says with a wink. "Why don't you see what you have," her cousin suggests.

When she goes below, he drops anchor and sail before removing his trousers and exposing the fact that he has no underthings to swim. He dives off the starboard side and swims back under the keel, emerging on the other side.

Miho steps out of the cabin in a simple black suit, dark against already dark skin. She steps up onto the edge and dives in with a clean arc on the port side, swimming underwater to surface near Obi. She pushes her hair back from her face and smiles. "Have you swum often in your travels?"

"I like swimming," he admits. "The colder the water the better. It's invigorating." He's treading water like it's second nature, but still probably not as cleanly as Miho.

"The sea is it's own universe," Obi says. "If I had a reliable way of breathing underwater, I think I'd love to travel Rebman shadows for a few years."

"You never know what lurks beneath the waves," he says. At the same moment, his leg shoots out, trying to hook behind her knee in what has to be an attempt to dunk his younger cousin.

Miho's eyes widen and she laughs. She twists away, turning in the grasp of his leg to swim out if she can then circle back around to splash her elder cousin. "I have always been most comfortable above the waves," she says, still smiling. "The world below is unknown to me."

"Me, too," Obi says after splashing back. "It's why I want years to explore it."

"Mysteries need not be revealed overnight," he said swimming closer. "If it's slow, you can become comfortable with it and still it keeps its glamour."

Miho nods slowly, fingers making small waves as she treads water. "Perhaps when you do decide to explore, you might ask for my company," she murmurs, then flashes a smile, and sweeps her fingers forward in a quick splash. "It is better to explore the unknown in the company of someone I trust."

She does not give him much time for an answer, pushing her arms down against the water to thrust herself out enough to surface dive back below, underneath him to tug at a foot and playfully pull him down as well.

Obi goes with her force, but not before taking a deep breath. As she dives with his ankle in hand, he grabs hers and rolls forward, reversing her direction. He definitely doesn't seem concerned with running for the surface.

Miho lets go of his ankle, twisting around in sinuous motion until she is face to face with him again. Her eyes widen and she smiles, closemouthed, bubbles wreathing her head as she lets small bursts of air slip out. She hovers there, watching him intently as a small fish might view a larger one - curious, yet wary and ready to move if need be.

It's obvious that Obi's not wearing swim trunks and he might be self concious of it at this of all moments. He dives beneath her feet for the colored reefs below, turnign back to see if she's following.

Miho's eyes might have noted his state of undress, but her gaze remains focussed upon his face. When he dives, she follows, skimming through the water with ease, albeit more slowly than Obi moves towards the reefs.

Obi's looking to see how fit Miho is, and plays about the reef as long as he can keep his breath.

Miho is obviously a little more cautious than Obi and with good reason. However, she follows him easily as he plays about the reef. Then suddenly, she sees a part of the reef jutting up where she didn't expect it. She sees it as she's going past, but it's already too late. It scratches her upper thigh. Although it isn't deep, it's jabbing is unexpected. She manages to react in time, so the scratch does not get any deeper, but it leaves a long thin scratch along the length of her thigh. Suddenly, there's a thin trail of blood in the water. It rises up from her thigh into the lighter water above Miho. Now she needs to surface because of the extra exertion of avoiding getting a deeper cut. She notices that it could have been a very nasty cut indeed, if she had not reacted as she did.

Obi, who is watching as he swims, catches the latter part of Miho's reaction. He can tell she reacted very fast, but she was still scratched. He can see the blood too. Obi knows that she was following him. He didn't see the part of the reef that jutted up at all. So it's not a case of skill on his part, but rather a matter of luck from his perspective that the same thing did not happen to him.

There's a burst of bubbles as Miho twists to avoid the jab, and a second quick burst immediately following that were it above the waves, one might expect to hear swearing. Her expression shifts through a brief spate of pain, then frustration, and a flash of fear. She glances at Obi just long enough to make sure she has his attention, then points upward even as she starts to shoot up to surface for a long breath.

Obi kicks for the surface, convinced that he can cover the legs of the triangle faster than the hypotenuse under water. When he breaks through the water he immediately starts kicking for her and the Wave.

"I'm sorry, Miho," he apologizes as he reaches her. "I should've been more careful."

"Let's look at that aboard, alright?" His eyes are scanning the water to ensure that nothing's being attracted by the blood in the water, yet. Because if they are just off Vesta, then there are sharks.

Miho doesn't waste words on speaking, simply nods and swims to the Widow's Wave and pulls herself in, tumbling over the side with some small amount of grace. She reaches back to give Obi a hand, before she sits back on the edge of the craft to look at the gash in her leg.

Obi takes the hand and with no notice of his own state of dress, examines Miho's leg. A moment or two of tugging with long warm fingers at the skin reveals that the wound is clean and shallow.

Miho's attention is likewise upon the long shallow wound as she sits perfectly still under Obi's administrations.

"You must have supplies below, yes?" he asks, already moving for the cabin. "Keep pressure on that for a moment. I don't want to spend the rest of the afternoon swabbing blood from the deck," he chuckles as he ducks below.

"I do, and I will," she says quietly, her hand pressed against her leg.

Moments later he emerges, a towel wrapped about his waist. He carries another towel for her, a bottle of alcohol, a roll of gauze and a sterile pad. He sets to work cleaning and dressing the cut simply, entrusting that the family hardiness will cover this relatively minor injury. "I should've been more observant where I was leading you. I'm sorry."

"And I should have surfaced before I was distracted by my air," Miho says. She smiles, and there is no upset there. "Your apology is accepted, but is not needed. I'll be fine. And I was having fun. Enough that I forgot to be afraid of being underwater so long, until it was suddenly just a little too long." Her eyes drop away as she admits the fear, and she focuses on pulling the towel up over her head to dry her hair first, before wrapping it around her shoulders.

"Next time, we find a Shadow closer to Rebma and it's breathable water," he smiles.

Miho nods.

"You rest there a few, at least until it stops bleeding," Obi suggests. "I'll get her around the point and then we'll get her tied along my dock." It seems that he's convinced that Vesta is only a shift or two away.

"I'll be fine," Miho says again. But she stays where she is, letting Obi pilot the boat into dock. She watches with quiet eyes.

"I'm sure you will be," he answers. When they turn the headland, the trees are greener and through them she can make out a dock with an attached boathouse.

"Want to give me a hand bringing her in? I'd feel horrible if I scratched her," he smiles.

Miho rises with fluid motion, favoring the injured leg but not letting it impair her comfort aboard ship, and joins Obi in maneuvering into the dock. Once they have the Wave safely tied, she stands next to him and offers a quiet smile that sparkles with teasing mischief in her eyes. "Perhaps you would care to duck below and change before we step ashore, or would you continue to travel in a towel?" A moment's pause, then the admission, "I should likely change myself, should I not? What is appropriate to wear?"

"Vesta's a bit cooler than Amber on average, but jeans and the like are common enough," he answers as he hops to the dock. "Toss me my bag, would you?"

Miho does so.

"I've a room within where you can change and not be hunched over in a cabin, if you like." He smiles at her and for the first time notices her long line in the swimsuit. "Although that's not as much an issue for you, I'm sure."

Miho's expression unfolds to match his smile. "The cabin is not nearly so tight for me, but then, she is my craft and built for my comfort. But I will take your offer of the room, and when we arrive, perhaps a change of clothes may be there ready for me." She disembarks in easy comfort to join Obi on the dock. Glancing up at him, she motions for him to lead on.

Obi chuckles. "Yes, but do you trust me to dress you?"

He finds a key under the third rock from the door and replaces it under the second after opening the door. "Make yourself at home," he offers. The boat house does house a small day sailer, well stored for the season, but more than half of it is dedicated to a comfortable room of well cultivated clutter. Obi finds a trunk at the foot of a lovely claw footed bed and pulls out a pair of black jeans and begins sliding into them.

"There might be something for you in that wardrobe over there."

Miho goes to open the wardrobe, leaning in to pull out a pair of blue denim jeans and a t-shirt, and a hooded sweatshirt. She slips the jeans on over her suit, then throws the shirt back in, pulling on the sweatshirt instead and zippering it partway up. She tugs at her hair, pulling the long strands out and checking how dry it is, before shaking her head and turning back. "Is this acceptable?"

Obi's added a pink t-shirt that reads, "Don't laugh. This is your girlfriend's shirt," and black hightops. "Looks great," he says despite himself.

She walks back to join Obi, her hands in the pockets on the front of her sweatshirt. "So what do you have planned for us?"

"Well, I'm sure you're not in the mood for a lively game of tiddly-winks, so..." he crosses to the back of the boathouse and lifts a sheet off a low slim object. "I thought we might take a ride. His smile is wide as he looks back at his motorcycle with fondness. "See the sights and all that."

Miho approaches the bike with a smile, runs her hand across the seat. "When I was a girl, the older boys in my homeland had motorbikes. Small engines, tiny put-put sounds, but they were so proud of them. And they were so much more grown up than the little bicycle I rode behind my mother when we went to market. This is not one of those." She looks up at Obi, her smile deepening. "I have never taken the opportunity to ride a motorcycle. Teach me?"

Obi looks at her with a wary smile. "Teach you? Hmm." He steps around the bike and takes a helmet from it's place on a shelf, tossing it to her.

Miho catches it. She pulls her hair back from her face, twisting it into a ponytail and tying a loose knot to keep it there before she places the helmet upon her head.

"What do you think Osebo?" he asks the motorcycle, leaning his ear in as if expecting an answer. "Hmm. You think so?"

"Osebo thinks it's possible, but that perhaps his cousin Achi-cheri might be better for you." Miho might recall the story of the Leopard's Drum, in which the slow but sharp witted turtle Achi-cheri wins his hard shell.

There is a soft flash of disappointment in Miho's features, gone almost before it is visible. "If you have another bike that would be best to teach me, that is your expertise." She nods, expression sobering. "Or if you would prefer to just ride and see the sights, I can be a simple passenger. It is still new to me. I suppose, then, I have not explored Shadow as much as I think I have." A flash of a small smile, and admission of her youth.

Obi looks her up and down and shrugs. "Osebo's always been a little proud of himself," he admits. "But I think his main concern was the length of your legs, but we can get past that. And if he's anything like his owner, he'll respond fine to a woman's gentle touch."

Miho's eyes drop away a moment, a smile still on her lips.

"Can you drive a standard transmission?"

Miho nods.

Obi will step back around the bike and grab her by the waist, lifting her gently onto the bike. A quick explanation of the hand controls for the throttle, clutch and break will ensue, along with the foot break and gear shift.

Miho settles comfortably upon the bike, wiggling a little to find the best place to sit so that she can reach everything easily. She is intent upon Obi's instructions, asking questions where needed, and storing the information away carefully.

He'll have her get back off the motorcycle and walks the bike to the back door to the boathouse. "There's boots that should fit you in the mudbox over there, and a pair of socks in my chest by the bed."

"I'd have to shift a little further to find you leathers since you've already emptied the wardrobe," he admits. "Denim will have to do for now. If you do any serious damage, well... we can get to Vesta quick enough."

Miho stops to put on the socks and boots, then follows Obi out. At his words, she cocks her head and says quietly, "Then my object must be not to fall off nor damage myself. You shift, and I will drive? Or would you rather to drive until I am properly dressed? He will seat us both, correct?"

"Not much difference than riding a horse double," Obi admits. "But, yes, the object will be to not damage yourself."

"I think it best that you try a few times yourself, trying to get it in gear and putter about in first or second," he suggests. "Then we'll take a little trip that I'll drive for and we'll find you your own bike... Automatic if you need." His warm tone flattens just a bit in distaste at the concept, not his cousin.

"I won't need," Miho says with confidence. She does as he suggests, riding for herself for a bit and testing the gears, shifting, braking, turning and learning how to shift her weight so the bike doesn't fall. When she is secure in it, she returns to Obi, and waits for him to join her. A soft smile lights her face, her eyes, a faint glow of windburn on her cheeks. "I like him. But if you do not wish to detour for a bike of my own, that is fine as well, since he will carry two. Although I would understand your wish to have him to yourself."

"It wouldn't be a detour," Obi assures her. "I'm getting hungry and the shop where I bought Osebo is next to my favorite diner in Vesta."

He climbs on the bike in front of her and produces a pair of sunglasses from his recently donned leather jacket. Pulling a black knit cap over his head, Obi looks back at Miho. "Just lean with me, OK?"

Miho places her arms about his waist to hold on, leaning against his back, and agrees.

Osebo roars at his command and soon the trees of the valley are flying by as his master ticks through gears. A few sharp turns are jarring as Obi seems to turn almost directly into the cliff face or a stand of trees, both times just shooting gaps wide enough for the bike. Miho can catch the slide of Shadows as they move through the barriers that surround Vesta colony. As they emerge from the valley pass the city sprawls below them, glittering spires mixed with older stone homes. He pauses on the hill and offers Miho a smile. "Vesta," he says, the word filled with any number of meanings.

"Food or bike first?"

"Food," she says without hesitation. "The ride was beautiful, but I am hungry after swimming and the ride. This is beautiful, Obi." She sits back, leaning away from him for a moment so that she can look at the view.

"Yeah, kinda my home away from home. We'll stop at the Sunset Diner over on Parker Ave. Only the waiters are robots, not the cook," he decides.

Miho blinks, not entirely certain whether that was in jest or serious.

"How's the leg holding up?" he asks before they begin.

"I am stronger than I look," Miho smiles. "I will be fine. Although if you wish to fuss over me more later, I might not object." Her smile teases with a flash and sparkle, then turns shy and glances away.

"To the diner then," he smiles, kicking the bike into gear again and roaring down the hill. Miho will notice that most of the vehicles have no drivers, being guided by some sort of remote control. Obi weaves in and out of them with seeming disregard for safety. Those that do have drivers are as he suggested earlier. Humanoid replicas of plastic and chrome driving their living masters. Robots in different primary hues carrying loads on the sidewalks and between buildings. He parked in front of the diner, a gleaming steel structure and led her inside.

He slid into a booth about not far from the door and shook his head as the robot waitress rolled up. "Greetings Detective, it has been 3.4 months since we've seen you. Would you like your usual beverage today?"

Obi shook his head, "No, just water for me at the moment. Miho?"

"Water is fine," Miho agrees. She sits opposite Obi in the booth, and leans across to ask, "What is good to eat here? I'm starving..." As she sits back again, she regards him quietly, seeming thoughtful behind dark eyes.

"I won't admit to liking the sweet potato pie," he chuckles. "It's entirely too much like the yams of Uzoma."

"I was planning on an omlet, personally. I can order for us both if you like," Obi offered.

Miho nods. "Thank you."

When the server returned Obi ordered good size meals for both of them. Eggs and potatoes, with sides of different pork products. Toasted bread and griddlecakes with butter and syrup. With the meal he had the robot bring citris juice and milk, probably soy.

"So, some dessert?" he offered as the plates were cleared from the table.

Miho sits with one elbow on the table, her chin propped on her hand, watching Obi. She brushes her hair back out of her face with her free hand, seeming to take a moment before she fully realizes he has asked a question.

Then she nods. "I would love dessert. Something sweet, but savory as well. There were these cookies when I grew up, with bright lemon flavor, and cheese, and sugar sprinkled over the top, and a hint of an herb I cannot recall the name of. They were my favorites. I should go home once more, just to have them again."

She smiles, considering him closely. "What are your favorite tastes, Obi?"

"Hmm. I like navel oranges fresh from the tree, curry so hot that by the end of the meal you can't taste anything for the next day, lemon sorbet with a hint of mint," he says, his eyes shut as if imagining each taste.

"But a the top of the list is the hint of sweat on the lips of a beautiful woman," he winks at her.

A soft smile, a little shy perhaps, tilts Miho's lips and she looks down at the table.

"And yours?"

She looks back up, meeting Obi's gaze. "The lemons where I grew up. Sharp cheese balanced on a slice of tart apple. Leathery jerky that seems years old, but has sweetness and spice and was perfectly made and chewy. Dark chocolate nibbled between sips of red wine." Her smile teases. "I can't say I know the taste of a woman, but I'm certainly someday I'll learn to appreciate the taste of a man."

"And a lucky man, he'll be." Obi smiled and offered her a wink, "Of course, he'd best watch out for overprotective fathers and cousins."

For a moment it looks as if Miho might say something in return, but the moment slips away.

Obi just smiles and offers her a wink.

"So, tell me about what sort of bike you'd like," he suggests as he finishes his drink.

"I like Osebo, but I am smaller than you, so I suppose a smaller bike would be easier to control," Miho admits. "Something that suits my taste - dark and sweet all at once. But I want her to be fast. I will have to keep up with you," she grins at him.

"I'm not so sure that it won't be me that's trying to keep up with you," Obi chuckles.

Miho's grin widens.

"Let's go talk to Sonny and see what he can do for you," he suggests as he presses his thumb against a pad on the server's tablet. The screen flashes "Detective Abidemi - $74.96" and they're on their way.

Sonny is a large man, probably weighing more than Obi and Miho combined. His garage is large bright warehouse with several cars and motorcycles in the multiple bays. Sonny's hands are permanently stained by nicotine and grease, but Obi doesn't hesitate greet him with a firm handshake.

"What's going down, my friend?" the mechanic asks. "That beast of yours sounds healthy enough."

"He's fine, Sonny. I'd like you to meet Miho. I've been teaching her to ride and well, she needs some wheels of her own. Got something to suit?"

Sonny looked Miho up and down. "She's been riding Osebo? Stronger than she looks."

"Can you pick it up once you put it down?" he asks Obi's cousin.

Miho's smile both tilts her lips and lights her eyes. "I will have no difficulties with lifting a heavy machine." She throws a glance to Obi, using her cousin's expression to take the measure of just how honest she can be with this man.

Obi nods, a mischevious smile reflected in his eyes.

"I am slight in build, but strong. I could lift you if you would like to see." Her grin flickers in her eyes, amused and teasing, and enjoying the difference between appearance and reality.

"You a skin job like him?" Sonny laughed. "Honey any time you decide you want to pick me up, you know where to find me."

Miho's expression shows confusion at his description. She smiles in the face of the laugh, a smile that fades when Sonny's does.

There's a flash of something across Obi's eyes again and it's just as quickly gone. Sonny's only visible response is a shrinking smile as he turns and walks them toward a bay where there are several bikes standing. "I'd think something in the crotch rocket genre would fulfill the needs you have for some hulking machine between your legs." He indicates two bikes. One is a blue so deep and dark that it might as well be the black of Osebo or the deep of the ocean, where the green never touches. The other was a vicious red, slashed with yellow and black checks and lettered like a racer. Both were low slung and compact models that would call for her to hug the bike more than Obesbo had demanded but seemed to promise at least his equal in strength and speed.

Miho moves on soft steps to the blue one. She runs one hand along the frame, tasting it with her fingertips before she tips it upright and swings one leg over it so she can see how it fits. "Do you mind if I take [insert Japanese name for depth of the ocean here] for a ride?"

At Sonny's assent, Miho takes the deep blue bike out, testing the feel of her. When MIho returns, her hair shows the wind and her dark eyes are alight. "Yes, this one." She throws a smile to Obi, delight in her expression.

Obi nods in response to her choice. "If I can get you to keep your lecherous hands off her, maybe you have some leathers to fit her too?"

"Don't hate the player, brother," Sonny jokes as he leads her to a rack with numerous outfits on it. "Take your pick, my dear. The detective's money is always good here."

Miho looks through the racks, asking questions, and finally selects a pair of heavy black leather chaps which fit like second skin over her jeans. She selects a black leather vest which clings to her slender form, over her blouse, then over that she puts a leather jacket which has been stained a deep blue, nearly the same color as the bike. All are thick leather, and certainly not merely decorative. She finishes with boots and comfortable riding gloves, the latter of which are tucked into a pocket.

Once she is changed, she throws her arms around Obi's neck and gives him a kiss on the cheek before stepping back, almost shy. "She is lovely. Let's ride."

Obi leads her out of town after they leave the shop, with Sonny still watching her when they pull out. Obi heads north, about the lake and makes a few subtle shifts until Miho can tell that they've definitely left Vista, even if the terrain seems remarkably similar.

He pulls to a stop under a spreading oak tree that stands at the corner of a crossroads. "Now, it's your turn," he said as she pulled along side. "Where will you lead me without your water?"

To be continued?