You're not in Ketra anymore...(Open!)

[Anonymous]

Sounds like they thought the entire planet was bad then.  That would explain why no one in Adela or Serendipity knew anything about Aedolis.  As tempting as it was, he couldn't hold Thomas' fear against him.  Not if everyone thought that was what happened... even Cook seemed to believe that something awful happened to Thanatos.  Cook was just, thankfully, not the type that scared easily.  Samari scribbled a few shapes on the paper, tapped the end of the pencil against the paper and tried not to be too distracted by Cook's tentacles in the corner of his eyes.

The planet question was enough to take his mind off them.  He shrank a little, biting one end of his lips.  "Before today I... thought there was no such thing as life on other planets.  It just seemed..." Samari tapped the pencil, trying to think of the word.  "Insignificant?  There are so many things we don't know about our own... planet, why think about what's on another one?"  He sketched a few more lines and looked down at the drawing.  It was far from done, but still seemed confusing.  Like he was sweeping the pencil around randomly inside the box.  He needed to see the skeleton of this motor, then it might be easier to understand - and easier for the craftsmen back home.

Samari looked up from the paper again when Cook asked where he'd prefer to eat.  "As long as I'm far away from the men... until we reach Thanatos and they see that it isn't a plagueland.

Cook?" he asked soon after, bracing himself on his elbows and leaning into them.  "Is it easy to take apart a motor?  Can you put it back together after?"

[Anonymous]

"I think that was the way on most planets for a good long while. I don't know how much life was on other planets before humans and the like started spreading to others than their own, but at one point or another, all but the most advanced planets thought they were the only life in space." He paused "I think you can find life of some sort on most planets now though, even if it's just a little outpost, or some wild beast."

"Well, it depends on what motor" Cook admitted, looking back at his mixer. He knew if he took it apart, he could (probably) put it back together. "Here" He said, drying his hands and coming over to the table. "Take it into my room and use the table in there. For it to work again, it has to go back exactly as it was, so if you want to take it apart, it's generally best if you diagram it as you go" Dinner was soon, and trying to move a partly disasembled little motor was not so easy.

"Go ahead and get settled, I'll bring our meal in there and then sound the dinner bell." Cook said, returning to the food and setting aside their portion before preparing the table for the rest of the men, scarcely taking note if Samari did as asked or not.

[Anonymous]

It wasn't meant to be a barb, but Cook calling the planets that knew about life on others advanced definitely found some nerve and stung.  He was nearly overcome with the ridiculous urge to convince Cook that he, and Thanati in general, were perfectly civilized, despite not paying much attention to other planets.  That was silly though.  Cook saw enough of him to see that, dried blood and ragged clothing aside, he was a civilized creature.

Just... not an advanced one.  Samari did his best not to shudder in distaste.

Instead he rolled up his paper and stood, cradling the motor against his chest.  "All right, I'll see you in a bit."

Samari walked to Cook's room and set the mixer down on the table.  As he unrolled the paper he wondered if it would be more practical to wait until they ate before littering the table with the little bits of metal that were inside the motor.  So he rolled up the paper and sat down, holding the motor at the edge of the table and looking at how all the bits fit together so he'd have some idea how it fit together when he took it apart.  He was going to need a scalpel.  He wondered if there was any liquid in there too, then decided there wasn't because Cook didn't give him a towel.  

After a couple minutes of looking at the motor, Samari nudged it toward a corner of the table and waited for Cook to show up with... what meal was this anyway?  He'd have to ask once he came in.

[Anonymous]

The men could be heard coming down the corridors, tromping over the grates in the floor and chatting with each other. The bench was scraped back as they took their places, still continuing whatever discussion they'd had going, not bothering to stop for eating.

Cook got them served, quietly informed the captain that he would be taking dinner in his room along with the passenger and left them to their disorganized conversation.

"Okay" He breathed, glad to be done with the meal for the time being-- other than eating it himself. "Here" He set the plates on the table. "Don't mind them in there, sometimes their talk gets a little crass, but they don't mean nothing by it." He assured. He himself didn't much care. He'd been traveling around on these ships for awhile with all manner of sailors and pilots. He hadn't heard Samari use any such language. In fact, Samari seemed quite polite, and Cook hoped he wouldn't be offended by anything he overheard-- not that making sense of it was likely, as the men talked through mouthfuls of food, but one never knew.

He took his seat, making sure to keep all of his tentacles on his side to the best of his ability. "Go ahead and eat. Once they're done I'll have to clean the dishes and whatnot" But that could wait for a little while at least. He dug into his meal.

[Anonymous]

Samari sat up a little straighter when Cook entered the room.  Whatever he had on that plate was still enough to get his stomach growling.  Out of habit he slid his tongue up the back of an eye tooth, which wouldn't be extended now.  He waved a hand when Cook advised him about the men's smalltalk, sweeping his hand down to pick up the fork.

"Sailors are sailors.  As long as they aren't planning to throw me... is it still called overboard?"  He looked up, blinked and stabbed his food.  "That would bother me.  I'd have to start carrying around something to protect myself."  Samari wiggled the fork, with the food stuck on the end, like it was a little sword and grinned.

Then he ate it, following it with a few more bites.  This time he didn't burn his mouth, but this food wasn't as hot as the last meal.  He hooked his ankles and swung them back and forth idly while he ate.  "I didn't ask you what time it was already did I?" He asked after a minute.

[Anonymous]

"Well, I suppose you could still call it overboard, though in space, it's not so simple as simply tossing you out the door. Don't worry too much. They might be a paranoid lot, but they wouldn't be likely to cross me, as long as I've got the captain on my side, and I do." The captain didn't hold to any such superstitious notions, or at least not like the men did. "Besides, you're perfectly safe in my kitchen." The men definitely knew better than to mess with the master of their food. It was widely accepted that the kitchen was Cook's domain, and if he asked them to leave, they were to leave. If he asked them to help, they were to help, and aside from meal times, they did not hang out in the kitchen unless invited.

"No, I don't think you did. Time don't matter much out here really, at least not in the usual way, but it's about 7pm or so, universal time, which just means we don't bother trying to adjust for the different orbits, day lengths, seasons, or any other anomalies we encounter around different planets. "You're welcome to go to sleep after dinner if you wanted. I'll be heading to bed after I clean up from supper. I have to get up early to make sure breakfast is ready and there's time to eat it before we start orbiting your planet in preparation for landing." He explained "If things go smoothly, we should be there before noon" But trying to cook and eat while preparing for atmospheric entry didn't work well.

[Anonymous]

"That's good news," Samari twisted his fork to tear another bite free.  "This little motor should keep me occupied enough to stay out of their sight."

His eyebrows rose when Cook told him it was seven pm and then went on about adjusting the time for orbits and... other things.  So complicated!  Back in Thanatos there was just the sun, maybe a clock if you could afford the time to maintain it.  Then again... how did you tell the time from the sky when you were in the sky?   Did they have someone to make sure their clocks were wound?  "Cook... I know I ask you for a lot of things, but do you think you could show me what sort of clock you use here?"

[Anonymous]

"Well, see those numbers up there on the console?" He said, pointing to a digital display. "That's one sort of clock. Instead of hands going around, it's just the numbers that change" He explained. "I don't know exactly how it works, just that it does" He shrugged slightly, rose and fished something out of one of his bags. Returning to his seat, he opened his palm to reveal a rather old looking pocket watch. "I don't use this one much, and most people now a-days don't either, but they're still around in some places, but digital" He motioned to the one on the console "are more common."

((sorry it took me so long to reply...and that it's so short))

[Anonymous]

((No problem <3))

Samari pushed himself off the chair a little so he could get a better look at the thing Cook was pointing at.  Oh!  He never even noticed that when he first came into the room.  It was so pretty, little slivers of bright light shaped like numbers.  Almost like the magic lights back in his home town.  "That's... that's really something... I've seen moving images like that before.  They were from magic of course.  Never one that could move through a series of numbers though."

He barely registered Cook getting up - and didn't look at what he was doing until he was finished admiring the clock.  Then went back to eating until Cook came back to the table and held his hand out.  

"Aaah," Samari slid a nail along the surface.  "Why would anyone not want to carry something like this around with them?  It's really nice..."

[Anonymous]

"Well, they don't all carry them around because there are other ways of telling the time, and there are lots of other devices with digital clocks in them, and they only barely have to glance at it to tell the time. These, called analog clocks, take most people a couple of seconds to figure out exactly what time it really is" He shrugged slightly. "Plus, these old pocket watches can be a bit on the fragile side depending on what a person is doing. This one, for example, would probably break if I kept it in my pocket during a mission or anything of that sort. That's why it stays in the ship, often in my bag. The ship has a fairly constant pressure and temperature-- aside from take off and landing anyway, but those forces can't really be helped."  He looked up from the watch. "How did you keep time back home?" He asked, allowing Samari to take the watch if he liked.