|
Post by Jack on Sept 10, 2021 16:18:07 GMT -6
Still rolling, it finds itself touching... dry sand? It tried to open its mouth and dislodge for a moment, only to find itself hopelessly trapped within it, there was no getting out. Still, it thrashed and rolled, probably only tangling it up worse at this point, but it wasn't quite bright enough to realize what was going on as it was pulled further and further onto land.
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Sept 10, 2021 16:34:42 GMT -6
The thing about appearances is that they rarely paint the whole picture. For example, any one person looking at the courier wouldn't really think of him as particularly strong. (And they would be right, because the courier isn't made to look strong). And yet the arms pulling the nightmare-looking beast of a fish out of water are giving it a run for it's money and then some (And those same onlookers would also be wrong, because appearing as something and being something are two very different things).
Out of the water, the man keeps dragging it further out to land, but quickly realizes the flaw in this plan.. For one it's thrashing up a storm, so if he keeps pulling it further along, eventually it's going to get in range of the box or bucket and really cause some damage. In so far both him and the shadow have been sharp enough to dodge the swipes of the tail, but stationary objects get no such protection.
Secondly, that there's no bucket on earth big enough to fit it. The realization causes a sour look to pass across his face. Despite being quite good at it, the problem with cooking up plans on the go is that sometimes one tiny detail gets lost in the heat of the action.
"..Damnit," he mutters, realizing they'll need to backtrack a little and instead pulls the fish back towards the shallow pool again.
. 63 . Atrum: 18 (3/5) Wet Season: 63
|
|
|
Post by Jack on Sept 10, 2021 16:40:57 GMT -6
The thrashes became slower and weaker as it struggled to breathe on land. With one last, mighty flop, it finally stopped, heaving as it breathed, hoping this wasn't the end for it.
[Congratulations, you've caught the fish!]
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Sept 11, 2021 0:52:33 GMT -6
Surprisingly, the fish seems to give up before its even thrown back yet, suddenly just stretching out across land in dejection. As he's dragging the thing back, a tempting thought occurs to him, of how both of the aforementioned issues could very easily be solved with the thing just.. expiring. It would still keep fresh (He can keep it even fresher if needed) and surely a fishmonger in town wouldn't mind bartering for a catch like that. It's even accepted that fate as inevitable, after a struggle that was barely anything in terms of time.
A very tempting thought.. but also one that would miss the minutiae of the situation (And he's not in the habit of making the same mistakes twice in so short a span of time). The shadow watches, drawing back, as the man drags the thing back into the shallow pool, nearly swinging it in for that last half. He then jumps in to wrangle the net off of its face, while the thing's still dazed.
. 64 . Atrum: 18 (4/5) Wet Season: 64
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Sept 11, 2021 0:59:50 GMT -6
Far from mere sympathy or chivalrousness, the purpose is entirely practical - The people here have a very special kind of approach to these beasts, even the mind-bogglingly violent ones, and to upset that sensibility isn't going to win anyone favours. (After all, if they can have sympathy even for blood-thirsty man-eating drakes, there's not much hope for explaining this away as anything worth saving). So, he has to keep this thing alive. Somehow.. A catch, with a catch.
With the fish placated, it's a lot easier to get the net off, following a few untwists from the rolling. Finally, he steps out of the pool and moves around to the rocks, where one of the smaller boulders is rolled into the water - The shallow pool was largely cut off from the rest of the stream, but only had one entry point big enough to fit the thing through. So he shoves the rock to block it, creating a rather large natural form of a bucket, so to speak.
"Try and escape that," he appraises the handiwork, quite content with the improvisation, as the shadow peeks over the edge at the fish inside. A few flakes of some of the rubbery-looking things are thrown in, in case the fish needs an extra pick-me-up.
. 65 . Atrum: 19 (0/5) Wet Season: 65
|
|
|
Post by Jack on Sept 11, 2021 9:28:00 GMT -6
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Sept 14, 2021 3:56:32 GMT -6
The whippish-looking thing certainly takes its time to recover, apparently more shocked about being dragged ashore than the minor asphyxiation itself (Not an unfamiliar feeling, even if uncomfortable enough to be pushed deep, deep down). The pellets seem to hardly catch its attention as it slowly gasps for water and just settles on the bottom, pacified. In a way the man's a little disappointed - What with the fight it was putting up, nearly matching strength-for-strength and bold enough to try and even go for him and the shadow on the shore, one would think it could take a better hit. To be sure, it annoyed the hell out of him when it did, but there's a difference between sheer hate and begrudging respect.
Hrm. Well.. Maybe this thing can patrol the pond back at the tower. That is assuming it ever gets that fight flare back. Hardly worth having a snapper like this as a deterrent if it gives up after only a minute.
. 66 . Atrum: 19 (1/5) Wet Season: 66
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Sept 14, 2021 4:02:06 GMT -6
The courier turns, appraising the catches so far, between the bucket seeming to be filled to the brim and the large eel-looking thing in the pool. Getting all of it back to the tower in one go is going to be tricky.. Not impossible, just a real fuss and a hassle. (Pretty sure he can get someone at the docks to come over with a container big enough for the eel, with the right set of words). The day is slowly edging towards the night as well, and while night never bothered him, he's learned it's not exactly a.. good picture, to be skulking around in the dead of night with a suspicious amount of goods on you, living or otherwise.
Something cold passes through the foot, making his head turn sharply towards the ground, only to see the shadow standing there, just beside the shoe. One small tendril is raised towards the leg, while another is pointing to something within the water. (So those things do cause some sensory reactions on touch, even if ghostly).
. 67 . Atrum: 19 (2/5) Wet Season: 67
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Sept 14, 2021 5:06:49 GMT -6
He quickly notes the curios fact, before focusing on what the shadow is actually drawing his attention to. And it's certainly a sight - In the pool, towards the side furthest from the dark eel, something.. very bright is crawling along the sandy floor, only to make sharp jabs and turns halfway through. If at first he assumed it to be trying to dig, then walking over to get a better picture through the rippling water made him quickly correct that assumption. The scene itself is actually a lot more strange.
The creature itself (It is not a fish, that much he knows) looks like a poorly designed pincushion by an abstract artisan, who was simultaneously colourblind or assumed bold colors were exactly what nature needed. To be sure, bold colours can be a warning, but in this case it seemed more an invitation to be eaten than discouraging. Not many things in nature came in what the City called 'bubblegum pink'.
. 68 . Atrum: 19 (3/5) Wet Season: 68
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Sept 14, 2021 5:13:47 GMT -6
And yet that isn't the strangest part. No, the strangest part is how this moving pincushion is apparently picking a fight with some shells in the sand, shuffled up against them as if expecting to joust them into defeat (Except the speed is hardly anything, the enemy isn't moving and not to mention the whole concept that it's certainly supposed to be done with both sides having lances, not just one. A strange story of a knight and a windmill comes to mind..) Neither shell seem particularly phased by it, and indeed, he's not even sure if they're technically alive.
But, a catch is a catch. He reaches the net down into the water and scoops up both parties with some precision swipes (Not that it could exactly make a speedy break for it), before standing back and heading to the bucket again. The shadow trails, and though he's not quite confident in reading it's demeanor, he's become familiar enough with some micro expressions to suggest it might just be a little bit proud over this.
. 69 . Atrum: 19 (4/5) Wet Season: 69
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Sept 14, 2021 6:01:45 GMT -6
Quite the valuable information, which can prove to be useful in future, thus adding to the shadow's value. As for the here and now, he dumps the pincushion and shells into the bucket, adding even more to the somewhat crowded situation there. Right, well.. He'll need to get this back to the tower and maybe invest in a more convenient container for these things before he returns. As for now, he begins to gradually pack things up - The lines on the trees are taken down and rolled up, the net is cleaned properly, with the webbing attached to the handle, and the fishing rod reeled in and secured.
Placing everything back into the box, he does notice one casualty to the previous whipper-eel incident, and that being one of the bait bottles having a slight crack in the side. Ah, well.. Might as well put it to one last use, before they ship everything out and back to the tower. Standing, he scatters the bait into the pool and goes back to tying down the equipment.
. 70 . (added) Atrum: 20 (0/5) Wet Season: 70
|
|
|
Post by Jack on Sept 17, 2021 21:27:36 GMT -6
Plop, plop.... Looks like it's raining... At least some of the fish are coming to the surface slowly?
[Nothing happens]
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Oct 19, 2021 15:05:01 GMT -6
A splashing of happy feet heralds the return of the courier to the river delta, though perhaps more importantly, it heralds the return of the one to whom the feet belong to. There had been some months of peace and quiet and calm.. but all things having to come to an end, eventually the pup was returned to the man, dressaged and proper and all. Well, perhaps not quite 'proper', given he is still looking to be prone to chase the first bit of movement he can find in the grasslands around the river, but with a few more tricks up their sleeves.
Also, a couple more pounds. The man knew these things can grow to some size, though the difference between then and now ended up a little more than he had anticipated. It's a good thing the leash is adjustable in size, for otherwise he'd be forced to run after the thing hand and foot (Mostly the hand).
. 1 . Perscitus: 28 (1/5) Dry Season: 1
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Oct 19, 2021 15:11:44 GMT -6
On the other hand, being larger, it makes the risk of him throwing himself at a puddle and drowning somewhat lessened, especially given the tide of the rivers have turned and the banks are shallow and dry. What little water remains seems to trickle through the deeper streams, leaving plenty of sandbank caked with algae and other river detritus assortments. If the pup's training ends up as good as expected, perhaps he could scrounge up some finds while the man deals with the nets and the lines.
For now, they need to find a spot to begin with. Sure, they could return to the usual haunt, but given the river's plentiful exposure it could be worth walking along one of the larger streams and see what comes up. There's certainly no end to the options, though the trick is finding one that doesn't exactly put them into contact with anyone else trying to grab a catch from the dwindling waters.
. 2 . Perscitus: 28 (2/5) Dry Season: 2
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Oct 19, 2021 15:16:07 GMT -6
In part due to the man's preference for some restful quiet. The river's pretty much the only place in the whole area that seems as sparsely placed as it is attended. The perfect sort of place to let one's hands work while the mind can turn over new ideas, plans, plots, and digest the rest. Though, it's also in larger part due to a rather odd sense of competitiveness among the fishers. One would think the river wide enough for there to be space for all, and yet he's already encountered several fishers over the months who side-eye his passing of their perch as if they were panning gold from it.
Perhaps they were, he hasn't been around these parts long enough to know whether the river held some mythical 'golden fish' that is actually made from gold. Hell, the pup's scales could pass for that, if one didn't know too much about the beasts (or has not seen too much actual gold up close).
. 3 . Perscitus: 28 (3/5) Dry Season: 3
|
|