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Post by Èdan on Aug 28, 2021 6:53:14 GMT -6
If the shadow can be persuaded to phase through the water, it could do any number of things - Locate fish in hiding, alert when something is about to be caught, even corral fish towards a net or lines with some tactical spooking. It isn't half a bad idea, he realizes, scratching the chin with an increasing smile. Of course, it all relies on forming that first line of communication with it. If it can't understand him, and he barely reads its more than apathetic expressions (Perhaps even entire lack thereof) none of that's going to take off anywhere, really.
The thought gets interrupted when the line suddenly grows taut and begins to pull. Snatched from the planning contemplation, he reacts quickly to stop the line from pulling and begins to tug it back. Whatever is caught on the line now is putting up a hefty fight, much more than the fish before. It doesn't feel exactly larger, but the strength behind it is certainly more.
. 39 . Atrum: 13 (4/5) Wet Season: 39
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Post by Èdan on Aug 28, 2021 6:57:11 GMT -6
The back-and-forth battle extends for quite a bit, as the man tries to drag the catch closer to shore. To his side, the shadow has crept up the boulder again, brought closed by the sudden action and commotion. Aware of the proverbial (and literal) splash zone, however, it does keep a little further behind him, in case whatever it is ends up dangerous. Letting the line go slack and then reeling it in again, the catch eventually gets close enough to start breaking water. He quickly notices the fin of the back and the sharp cut of the tail and swears under his breath, keeping focus on the reeling.
He knows the shape from ocean tales and more than a few illustrations in manuscripts, though he hasn't exactly encountered them anywhere else but here. He does remember the first one of these, though, a real rough of a catch. Who knew those black rubber-looking things could be so tasty to things like this?
. 40 . (added) Atrum: 14 (0/5) Wet Season: 40
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Post by Nadia on Aug 28, 2021 12:18:42 GMT -6
There's a pretty flash of colourful scales.
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Post by Èdan on Aug 30, 2021 6:35:22 GMT -6
"Come on.." he grumbles, pulling the line closer to shore as the fish finally flops up upon it. It continues to thrash there, not yet ready to give up the proverbial fight, and while he could respect the spirit of that, he also has the unpleasant business of having to hold it down to stop it from moving about too much. It's definitely bigger than some of the others, so he really has to make sure his weight is on top, before the head is finally braced against the ground enough to reach the mouth and quickly unhitch the hook from it. The removal itself isn't the painful part, but the reflexive reaction of sharp teeth suddenly clamping down makes him pull the hand back in reflex.
Clever little bastard.. There's a scoff as he lets go of the head, instead picking it up by the tail to half-drag it towards the bucket, shadow in quiet (And suspicious) tow.
. 41 . Atrum: 14 (1/5) Wet Season: 41
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Post by Èdan on Aug 30, 2021 6:49:28 GMT -6
The carnivores are always the most bothersome to deal with. Not that he can fault the thing for trying.. Every living thing has but one objective and it's to keep on living (In whatever fashion they define both 'living' and 'keeping on'). The shark makes one last thrash and bite at the air, before he finally releases it into the bucket, where it settles after some moments. He rubs the fingers together, feeling the skin scuffed up some by the scaled body, but nothing that wouldn't heal given a day or two. The better grace is having avoided it biting into the arm, which would have been a whole other issue.
He returns to the fishing pole, seeing the green eyes flash for a brief moment before disappearing into the grass, as if alerted at being seen. Perhaps the shadow has sense enough to figure out it's not quite so hidden from his sight as from some others.. That would certainly make things easier in the long run, though likewise make the shadow more probably to become better at said hiding.
. 42 . Atrum: 14 (2/5) Wet Season: 42
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Post by Èdan on Aug 30, 2021 7:10:23 GMT -6
He's not quite sure which is the better option, truth be told. It remains an oddly disconcerting notion that the shadow could become good enough as to escape even his observing sight, in time. And if it has the intelligence to match the rumours regarding its kin, well.. No-one really wants a sentient shadow to constantly scrutinize them. (That would just be rude. Compromising, but also rude).
The man's not even halfway there when one of the hanging lines gives a small twitch. Something in the murky waters is taking a gander at it, though by the way the line only slightly wobbles, it's more like a test, a feel, than a bite. But, not one to pass on capitalizing on opportunity, he quickly crouches down, reaching out towards the net as the eyes scan the water. All that's needed is a shadow, just a splot of something darker (or lighter, in case it's one of those 'transparent' fish again) to betray it's location..
. 43 . Atrum: 14 (3/5) Wet Season: 43
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Post by Èdan on Aug 30, 2021 7:31:45 GMT -6
What he ends up getting is that, and so much more.. A pale shape becomes apparent against the muck, with a bold orange stripe to its side. Not the best of choices for camouflage, perhaps.. Unless the river had a season change in kelp colour similar to overland trees. (Even here, amidst all this magic and science, he rather doubted it). Slowly the net is lowered into the water, low to the ground and sand, as it creeps closer. The fish seems none the wiser, clearly more preoccupied with the shining object that is the hook. To it's own doom, under normal circumstances. In this case, the net pulls up sharply, cutting off any escape as the fish is easily caught within.
Now this is a pretty one. The colours being far more vibrant than the other lot before, perhaps likely to fetch that better a prize on the markets. He moves back towards the bucket, that ever-trodden path by now, and releases the thing into the water, as green eyes peer out from behind him.
. 44 . Atrum: 14 (4/5) Wet Season: 44
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Post by Èdan on Aug 30, 2021 8:00:29 GMT -6
When he turns, the eyes remain there, still staring at him. It's a point of curiosity that when he takes a step forward, they remain there, like a stubborn cat refusing to move out of the path. Hm. Perhaps the shadow has more courage than it's shown so far, after all. Even so, when he inches the next step a little closer, the dark thing hesitates, slinks back and darts back into the grass. Or, well, perhaps not..
Still, an amused smirk crosses his face, as he briefly digs around the box. The pale fish had barely touched the hanging line, so there's little issue putting that back in, but the shark had bent the previous hook on the fishing rod not quite to breaking, but enough to make it useless against anything sturdier than an anchovy. So he takes rod and hook, hopping back up onto the boulder where he replaces the old with new, and casts the line out into the river once more.
. 45 . Atrum: 15 (0/5) Wet Season: 45
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Post by Nadia on Sept 1, 2021 13:58:51 GMT -6
Something's on the line! It tugs and tugs and tugs. It feels like it's going to pull the pole right into the water with it. The water ripples ferociously with movement, stirring up mud and making it impossible to see the catch.
That is, until there was a sudden snap. One end of the line swims away and the other dangles miserably from the end of the pole. Well, that was unfortunate. Now the pole has to be restrung, ugh.
[The next 5 posts yield no results. You may use (delete) an 'Extra Line' to prevent this.]
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Post by Èdan on Sept 6, 2021 4:46:41 GMT -6
There is a peace to the whole fuss. For one, there's hardly any people around. For another, it's a nice way to enjoy the fresh air while banking on passing opportunities in the process. And with only the shadow as company, there isn't any barking or yapping to fill the air and break the otherwise pleasant stream-bubbling silence of the day. Or, so it seemed.
The first tug on the rod is faint enough, as if a current is sweeping faster or some debris bumped into it. But the second one comes with little warning and enough force to almost pull the man off his seat on the rock. The reflexes are fast enough to grab the rod as to prevent it from completely being flung into the water, but whatever is pulling on the line means business and might well be strong than even him. Skidding across the boulder, he tries to find purchase, to brace against something, anything, in order to make a counter-pull on the line.
. 46 . Atrum: 15 (1/5) Wet Season: 46
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Post by Èdan on Sept 6, 2021 4:50:58 GMT -6
Normally this wouldn't be as big of an issue, for his own size alone would be enough to balance out whatever force the fish is exerting.. But this thing, whatever it is, is not only matching it but also seriously outclassing it. Stubbornness flares, the contest not something he's so willing to give up on, and the jaw tightens as he tries to fight back on the pull. But the rocks are smooth and covered in algae, and the boots, for all their ability to remain dry, are slipping ever closer to the waterline with each step and slip of rock.
There comes a point where stubbornness finally begins to yield to survival instinct, to considering just letting the rod go entirely lest whatever is there pulls him into the water. (Swimming wasn't an issue so much as whatever was waiting beneath the wave for him. And he rather doubted the shadow would have been able to help fight it off, even if it had been inclined to).
. 47 . Atrum: 15 (2/5) Wet Season: 47
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Post by Èdan on Sept 6, 2021 4:55:32 GMT -6
A rod he could replace, but it would be a far more troublesome affair to show up to the Temple with wounds needing healing because a fish got the better of him. And that's assuming he can escape the fish. But before all that has a chance to unfold, there's a minute sound among the cacophony of splashing water, muttered cursing and boot-skipping stones. A faint snap.
The resistance suddenly disappears, and although the momentum overall brings him forward by foot, all things being equal, the release sends the rest of him toppling backwards onto the rocks. There's reflex enough to brace, but even then the landing is hardly comfortable, as he sits up with a sore groan, taking stock. The shadow has crept up on the boulder behind him, perhaps concerned (Though he wouldn't count himself so lucky just yet), he's not in water but one foot is only inches away from the river's surface, dangling over it. And the rod, well..
. 48 . Atrum: 15 (3/5) Wet Season: 48
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Post by Èdan on Sept 6, 2021 5:04:21 GMT -6
He bring the thing into view, having expected to find the shaft half dangling from one broken end or another. Instead, only the line gently drifts in the breeze, frayed and broken from where it had snapped. "Son of a.." he mutters, (Finding it still weird to adopt the common phrase. It just doesn't have the same 'oomph' as what he's used to) but can't be too annoyed. All things considered, it was either going to be him or the rod in the water and he should count himself lucky enough that only the line broke. Otherwise he'd need to go and replace the entire thing, which is a much greater hassle.
Rising to his feet, the shadow actually creeps a little closer, as if picking up on the distress. He makes a dismissive gesture, more instinctual reaction to that type of sense, carefully navigating the rocks to hop back down to solid land and towards the small box.
. 49 . Atrum: 15 (4/5) Wet Season: 49
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Post by Èdan on Sept 6, 2021 7:17:08 GMT -6
The shadow backs up, but follows close. Closer than it has so far, though whether the concern has genuine cause it another matter. The man's far too annoyed with the state of affairs to focus on that at the moment, instead rummaging through the box with no small share of mental grumbling. Perhaps taking the pup along would have one specific benefit, once he's grown - Anything bigger than him can deal with the rakai's predatory nature. The way he's heard it, those pups can grow to quite the size, too.
Crouching down in the grass, he spends a good several minutes replacing the line (Again) unstringing it from the hoops, replacing the coil and finally running the fresh line through again to the tip. Along the way, he makes sure to double-check whether the rod itself has any structural damage to go with it. It's made to flex, but even things made to bend can eventually break if you put enough force on it (A concept that not surprisingly applied to both objects and people). Finally, he grabs the first lure visible in the box and attaches it to the line, replacing the hook that had been taken with whatever it was as well.
That done, he hops back on the rock, surveys the water with some contempt (Just in case the beast was still lurking somewhere) and settled down to cast the line once more.
(to cancel out event) (bait)
. 50 . (added) Atrum: 16 (0/5) Wet Season: 50
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Post by Nadia on Sept 7, 2021 12:07:37 GMT -6
The new line is lucky!
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