ORIGIN - Now Selling: S.P.I.T.!

S.P.I.T.!
Sanitary
Painkilling
Independantly-made
Tonic

Now selling at your local backstage pharmaceutical for only ONE shiny thing or small favor a glob!

Yes, we measure by globs. The metric system has not been invented yet.

Kaimana had not been out of the water much since she got her gills. It was the best pastime distraction she could have asked for -- she really ought to find Master Farina and thank her! Fishing and diving had never been more easy. Truly she was thriving as she always had been, but key things had changed for Kaimana too. A few of her friends were in chrysalises or nowhere to be found, including her own son. It had brought her some sadness, some anxiety... that because she had tried to keep him safe from the Black City, she had ended up losing him... And she had tried to remain as her friends did, silent and encased in stone, but it just never worked out for her. Maybe Kaimana just loved living too much, too many small details kept her awake and still waking. Regardless, she had not been a very good friend to those remaining since gills. She had left those troubles and worries on the land.

However, her second Farina-granted mutation and the call from Nemean beckoned her back. It seemed as though the Gembounds of the caves were being called together for some kind of Tournament! Kaimana wasn't one for fighting, but she also wasn't against it. Kaimana had nothing that I would classify as bloodlust, placid as she typically was, so it probably wouldn't be all that entertaining to watch or participate (especially if kids were being endangered -- and they were). But what Kaimana did know that fighting led to wounds. This is obvious, let me continue-- wounds led to a need for medical assistance, yes? And you see, this is where Kaimana's second mutation comes in. Farina must have understood that Kaimana was a lackluster healer, because she had granted Kaimana antibacterial saliva similar to a Drinker's! The leopard had discovered this while licking her own wounds received via simple exploration.

Oh! And wasn't Orion on the way to Canis? That reminded her of something--

So what was Kaimana going to do now? Well, she had collected some bark or stones with divots large and curved enough to serve as containers, gotten some nice-smelling plants, and set up a station by a little bit of water from a nearby clean water source, to put together a potion of sorts! The key ingredient was her own saliva. She had added sweet scents and a little bit of water in an effort disguise the inherent ick factor of the serum. Out of the eyes of any potential customers, Kaimana had made some of this S.P.I.T., loaded it into a container, and carefully carried it to the backstage area of the Forum.

Now, medics, backstage audience members, and fighters would find her hawking. "PAINFUL INJURY? OPEN WOUND? I HAVE A SOLUTION, LITERALLY!" Ah, Kaimana cracked herself up. Which is to say, she was chuckling in her sort of off-kilter way, and it probably wouldn't sell well. I mean, if I saw a street merchant laughing at their own commercialized puns, I would probably walk right on by because I have social anxiety and I don't associate with nerds. But hey, that's just me! And maybe also you! Anyways.

He'd come to help, warned by some of the Forge (he was working on those farms in Pegasus) that medics might be needed. He'd been meant to help teach Maximus about medic stuff, but partway through the fights, Maximus had up and left. Oliver wasn't sure why. He'd missed the yelling, and all he really knew was this:

That there was muffled roaring, music, thumping of drums from the arena above. That the scent of blood sometimes drifted down when the doors slammed open, and a fighter came in or out. And that wounded were cycling through like some sort of weird buffet on a moving line, though Oliver didn't know anything about those. So the comparison was really a moot point. But he was here, now, a few herbs in a makeshift basket at his side, crouched with blue eyes blown wide and tufted ears flattened back against the chaos of it all.

Kaimana's presence--her shuffling around, setting up her little stand and finally her call--was a blessed distraction for him. Nobody'd come for help just yet, so maybe he'd be okay to... just go over and talk, for awhile?

He crept over, curiosity in his face, showing no trace of the fierceness shared by the beasts above. He, like Kaimana, was generally a placid being, taken sometimes to an extreme.

"Excuse me?" he offered, softly.

Now, his introduction might have been a little smoother if he'd known what a "solution" was. He didn't. But he sensed that there was more to the word, like wordplay, and now he was interested, so he did the smart thing: he asked.

"Hi."

...Eventually.

"I'm, uh, Oliver," he began, then realized his soft voice would be completely inaudible against the bellow of the drums above.

He tried again. "HI? I'M OLIVER. Uh, what do you mean by--WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY SOLUTION, LITERALLY? -I'm a MEDIC," he added, to help explain his question.

He gazed at Kaimana hopefully. With luck, she'd be friendly! And explain things, and maybe he could... buy? Trade for? Her, uh--whatever it was that was.

@Kaimana

Kaimana's eyes were specifically trained for approachers -- clients, customers! She wouldn't miss even one! It was that talent that stall-owners and hawkers had, to spot anyone slightly leaning towards or glancing at their booth, anyone who possessed even the most basic amount of interest that intelligent beings have for all things. Very perceptive, very intimidating. Kaimana would be polite about it though, not calling out to rope in anyone in particular. If anything it just boded well for Oliver, who was nigh undetectable otherwise.

The winged canine approached, and Kaimana leaned forward somewhat theatrically to hear them at first. When they raised their voice to compete with the drums, Kaimana withdrew, eyebrows raising just a little. The inquiry relaxed her. A medic, eh? "HELLO, Oliver. I am KAIMANA!" Her voice also had to compete with the drums above, except unlike Oliver's, hers projected well. "and a SOLUTION," she gestured to her aqueous solution, "is a LIQUID WITH SOMETHING MIXED INTO IT--!" The drums were finally starting to die down. "--AS WELL As a means through which a problem can be solved, resolved, etcetera." Her gesturing paw then moved to point at Oliver. "In your case, a patient's injury would be the problem! Thus, I present to you," the gesturing paw spooned out about half a glob of the container's contents and held it forth, "S.P.I.T.! Sanitary, painkilling, independantly-made tonic." Kaimana chuckled, feeling like a very clever cat right now.

She raised a brow and beamed at the medic -- a look, she hoped, that would prompt more questions.

@Oliver

Oliver was utterly impressed. Kaimana--err, KAIMANA--seemed to know what she was talking about. She spoke with confidence, and she was smart. He winced a little as the drums hit their high point, but then they faded, and he was able to speak a little more... normally. And hear at a reasonable level, too--the jaguar wasn't shouting anymore. They didn't need to; that was nice.

So a solution was liquid with stuff mixed in--he made a mental note! He knew the other meaning, of course, so now he beamed right back. But it wasn't a question he fired at her, first, but praise. "Oh!" and his tone was gentle; "So it's--both! Like, a mixture and a... problem solver! That's really smart," he said, and he looked, and sounded, sincerely admiring. His eyes were wide, and his words earnest. "So--you named it S.P.I.T.? What's in it?" he went on, pushing back up to creep a little closer, peering at the goop on her golden paw.

"It's not, um--real spit, right?" he asked. He sounded like he were half making a joke... but half afraid it might be. Spit, that is. "M... most of my stuff's, uh, just plants and water," he went on--oh, and another question! "What are you--selling it for? Trading it for?"

...As long as it wasn't really spit, of course, but that was a silly idea!

@Kaimana