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[img]https://i.postimg.cc/DyH88WMW/Kid-s-Hat-Final.png[/img]

[color=8258fa]Level:[/color] 7 (19 -> 34 -> 37/70)
[color=8258fa]Location:[/color] Edge of the Blue - Luma Pools -> Bottomless Sea
[color=8258fa]Word Count:[/color] 1264 (+3 EXP)

[color=8258fa]Hat:[/color] Default
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In spite of the sounds of rescue, the following confrontation, and general chatter and activity, Hat Kid managed to peacefully nod off on the palm-shaded patch of sand she lazily occupied. Picking up zero hits on her Compass Badge told her there was nothing that currently demanded her immediate attention, and so decided she’d rather pay it to nothing other than her afforded relaxation time to rest her head. It wasn’t long until she was roused by food smells unfamiliar to her, but in their own way enticing nonetheless. She sat up and tilted her hat out of her eyes to observe the culinary activity that brought it about, then popped up onto her feet and made her way over to join the others around the fire. A feast was in order, it seemed, courtesy of Link, Cadet, the (rest of) the girls, and a new guy who happened to befriend a nearby chimp. Whatever they were serving, she wouldn’t be saying no to a free meal. [color=8258fa][i](It IS free this time, right?)[/i][/color] Shameless thoughts of repeat freeloading aside, with the contents prepared and set, she set in with the others to help herself at the proverbial ring of the dinner bell [s](one that Link could probably hear for some reason)[/s].

She [i]liked[/i] the fish, but she wouldn’t say she [i]loved[/i] it. Certainly, it was pleasant for what it was, as light a flavor as it had against a semi-crunchy, flakey, succulent texture, but something about it she hadn’t the palate to place gave off an underlying impression of “We worked with what we had.” Still, not bad overall… definitely better than what the Mafia ‘of Cooks’ could manage, which admittedly wasn’t saying much considering [i]their[/i] food resided on an astonishingly low qualitative end of putting any partakers into an early grave. Strangely, nothing struck her as anatomically bizarre about the fish, being no more weird or alien to her than any other creature she had likely encountered (and/or tasted) in her unrecounted space travels.

This thing they called [i]’froot’[/i] was another thing entirely. Her off-hand knowledge was of its [i][b]exclusive[/b][/i] use in decorative table arrangements in ornate bowls or horn-shaped baskets, the same way hamburgers were clearly furniture made by/for earthlings to sit on (a previously held myth dispelled for her back at the Hammerhead branch of Grillby’s). She was unaware until now that it also came in edible form, and was apparently enjoyable at that, going by the reactions of others. The only question that remained for her was which one to try first.

At any rate, she opted for cooked and raw bites of each for a proper sample size and reference. The hot pink one in the green-striped, less than edible shell proved better left raw, if good in its own right. Cooking it seemed to render out some of the juiciness and reduced the texture somewhat, even if it ended up enhancing the decadently sweet flavor overall. The uninitiated child’s second eager bite closer to the rind was met with a pause of displeasure at the unintended crunching sensation that hadn’t happened with the first. Put off by this, she reflexively spat out the black she had caught a mouthful of and reexamined the partially-eaten melon wedge in her hand to notice plenty more still within it. She wondered then if filtering them out as you went was part of the experience, for meticulously removing them seemed unduly laborious for the otherwise pleasurable act of consumption. She tried again, this time expecting it, sucking down each flavorful bite of watermelon and projectile spitting the seeds out in any direction--enough to quickly develop a feel for and start having fun with it. Like that, she went from working around her food to playing with it like the child she was, messy smile and all.

The golden one with the ‘prickly-but-not-really’ skin was great either way. A little less sweet, but just enough with a balanced tang--somehow moreso when grilled. To boot, when paired with a bite of fish, it made [i]that[/i] better too! Preferable cooked, but excellent regardless. Definitely the highlight of the feast. The ‘creamy boomerangs’ were a toss-up as to whether they were better cooked or raw, but were hard not to love either way. If anything was for certain, especially after experimenting with it, they were certainly better by themselves than paired with anything else they were serving. Thankfully, they would have no shortage of them for the road.

Soon enough their recess came to an end. They re-split the party between both vessels--Hat Kid assuming a roaming post in the Atomos’ ballista bay once more--and set off downstream. The passing scenery of lush, red flora and glistening waters brought a peaceful smile to her face. Not that she didn’t normally smile by default already, but it made her feel slightly more at ease while it lasted. It didn’t take long for the colors to run with gloom and decay the closer they got to the Sea until there was naught else to behold, marking a complete turn in the child’s attitude and expression, changing at pace with the scenic transition.

For all the comfort it was worth, the abyssal black waters may as well have been a bottomless void of open air, no more welcoming than it was by feeling and appearances alone, coupled with an endlessly-spanning storm that could throw them into it with a wrong turn in any direction. Thalassophobia wasn’t quite the word. She had actually been [i]in[/i] the Deep Sea once before--or a rift-borne imitation of it at least (which too was seemingly bottomless)--but at least [i]it[/i] was stable, even when it was [i]un[/i]-stable… [i]and[/i] she couldn’t drown or anything else in it. What she found here was strikingly unnerving by comparison… to [i]anything[/i] she had experienced up to this point. Only Vanessa had ever made her nervous like this once before.

Perhaps the most critical distinction between this and the dimensional dream reflection of the ocean and its depths as she had experienced it before was both the inherent and readily apparent realization that they weren’t alone, and they didn’t yet know what all awaited them. Sharks seemed an appropriate tone-setting opener, of which she could see more beneath the water’s practically opaque surface, and on which some seemed to place inordinate focus. What worried her more was the atmosphere itself and the foreboding promise of doubtlessly greater dangers that lie beyond; things that were bigger and much more threatening than a mere school or carnivorous fish.

Lo, she was shortly proven to be right, for they soon had back row seats to a duel of arguably mythological (or at least cinematic) caliber between two sea monsters. Bowser had the right idea… at first: Just leave them alone to fight each other and move on. Then, for no apparent reason--probably some arbitrary affront to his pride or whatever--he decided to ignore his own advisement and jumped into the water anyway, seemingly with every intention now of getting involved. Geralt, with his new upgrade, followed in after, followed by Sakura. She guessed they wouldn’t be leaving this one alone after all, but that still put her at a loss for what she, specifically, would do. [color=8258fa]"Hey!"[/color] she called tothe remaining Koopa family, joining them on the control deck and looked to them expectantly for some kind of action plan, hoping they might have a better idea, and waiting to hear it if so, before compulsively, recklessly devising and enacting one of her own on the spot.