ArchivedLogs:Shark-Fishing

Shark-Fishing
Dramatis Personae Shane, Sebastian, Peter, Ross
In Absentia	2013-07-19 '
Location <XS> Lake
Bright, bright, bright; the lake glitters wide and expansive here, stretching off into the distance. Sunlight, moonlight, starlight, it catches them all. Lapping at the rocky shore, its deep waters are frigid in winter and cool even in summer. A stone pier stretches out a ways into the water, wide and smooth, though often icy in winter. The water teems with life nevertheless, home to myriad species of fish that provide for ample fishing or just lazy watching on a slow summer day, for those who want to take a boat from the boathouse out to the center of the lake, or perhaps lounge on the pier and try their luck. Peter has arrived at the lake after class -- armed with a white tank-top, blue swimshorts, a duffel bag full of hastily assembled SWIMMING GEAR... and a fishing pole. The duffel bag is deposited next to him; the swimming pole is currently in his hands. He's fumbling with it, trying his best to remember his uncle's tentative lessons from over a year ago on how to properly cast -- oh, yes. There we go! Whip, WHIIIIIRL... and off goes the turkey-bone scavenged from the kitchen, WRAPPED IN FRESHLY OVEN-BAKED BACON. S'probably gonna get all soggy and /gross/, now. Peter's sitting on the pier, legs dangling over the water -- a bare toe occasionally stroking against the rippling waves! The oppressive heat of the sun has left him regularly reaching for the tiny water spritzer he brought with him -- also, with his arms and sternum mostly bare, it leaves him /sparkling/ in the sunlight -- a flashing metallic blue beacon that gleams with a prismatic coating. Shuffling from the path leading from the Mansion, comes Ross, gathered in a bathing suit...apparently. She plans on facing her fears of the lake again, after it so kindly swallowed her up last time. Her ears are pointed forwards since last time she was here, and her skin is still purple. She spots peter, waving, and skips towards his area without any invitation, both curious by what he is doing and also hoping to relieve boredom. Dun dun. Dun dun. Dun dun dun dun dundundundundundundundundundundun... Actually no. The lake today is caaaaaalm. Calm calm calm and a blessedly /cool/ haven from the oppressive heat. Occasional SPLISHes as fish surface to nab skittering water-surface insects. Occasional SPLOOSHES as birds dive to nab surfacing fishs! No sharkfins in evidence. But there are /ripples/. Somewhere out diiiiiistant in the blue. Far off! It's a /big/ lake. Very big lake. Hard to see, at first. But then closer ripples. And then nothing. "Nnngh," Peter mutters, reaching for the spritzer bottle again. Spritz! Spritz! Spritz! All over his face and shoulders. His cotton tank-top is beginning to look sweated through, though it isn't /sweat/, it's just water. So! Less stinky, maybe. He is shiny and bright as Ross approaches, /gleaming/ in the sunlight. When he sees Ross hopping up on the pier, eyes widen a little bit, turning away from his fishing line -- and that red bobber which will tell him if anything sinister is going on! -- though still holding the rod steadily in one hand. "Oh," Peter says, a little hesitantly -- before meekly grinning: "Um, hi, Ross. Uh. I didn't think anyone would be out here today -- with the heat and -- well I guess the heat is a /reason/ to come out," he quickly adds, as if just realizing this! "So um. Hi!" Peter gives the rod a tiny tug. Not noticing those distant ripples! Nor the sudden /disappearing/ act they pull. Ross stretches outwards, slightly curious. "So, what are you doing today? Are there even /fish/ in this lake? Anyways, enough about me, how are you?". She smiles, sitting near him, tossing a towel down underneath herself. She begins to lather sunscreen on her purple skin, not knowing if it's even still affected by the sun like normal skin or if it /is/ normal skin. She stretches. "It's a nice day. Hot, though." There is an abrupt /tug/ on the end of Peter's fishing pole! OMG he has caught a BIG ONE. Yank. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaank. It is pulling with a rather /firm/ amount of /strength/ back at his line. ZOMG BACON GIMME. "I'm, uh..." Creeping violet slips up into Peter's face! Which doesn't help the oppressive heat he's experiencing. "--yeah there's fish here, but I'm not -- like, I'm actually just, uh..." This announcement is interrupted by WHOAGOD SUPER-TUG. Immediately, Peter's interest /wrenches/ back to the fishing rod; the cord goes slack for just a moment -- the bobber dipping into the water. And then, suddenly, Peter /snaps/ the cord rigid and /tugs/, causing the rod to bend -- violently! -- downward, into the pool of water. Tugtugtug. OHO he's got one! Ross's head immediately darts upwards as Peter gets a bite. She watches furiously, biting her lip. This is somehow exciting to her. "What is it? Bass? A bigger bass? A different type of bass I didn't mention? I DON'T KNOW MANY TYPES OF FISH!". She quickly darts her head over to Peter, and then back at the water, and then back at Peter. She scoots closer, the pressure intensifying. She peers her eyes so forward they almost pop out of their sockets, just so intent on the matter at hand. TUG tug tug tug tug pullllllllllllllllll. Peter's catch is fighting BACK oh man. Wrestle tug SPLASH! There is a sudden ERUPTION that splashes out over the pier, splooshing chilly water a few feet up over its edge. The YANKtugging on the line doesn't stop. But very abruptly there is a tiny blue elfin-small /face/ peering up over the stone, slender elbows propped on its edge, gills still fluttering along his neck with the longer set at his side still mostly submerged. There is also a /fish/, medium-ish -- perhaps ten pounds of still-thrashing silvery body, clutched in one of his hands. Around the wriggling fish has been wrapped a torn-off scrap of /bacon/. "How good a fisherman /are/ you?" Huuuuuuuuuge black eyes peer up at the pair on the pier. "Cuz this one might be a battle." Oh, man. Peter seems somehow /overjoyed/ for that sudden swooping wave of cold moisture that sweeps up across the pier and lands atop of him; his head darts up as if he's intent on SMEARING HIS FACE all over the droplets that are descending. But he still hasn't released his grip on the fishing pole, even as that elfin blue sharkface pops out to greet them, bacon-wrapped fish in hand! Peter /does/ grin, though, hopping to his feet. "I think," Peter admits -- hnf! Pulling back hard on that line as he speaks, bracing himself on the pier -- actually /losing/ a step or two to the force of the next tug as the rod snaps down so hard and fast it looks like it might be on the verge of breaking...! "--the line is gonna break--" CLICK. Whirrrr; more line is fed, the fishing pole snapping back slack. "--before I can pull you up. I've got more bacon," Peter offers, nudging the duffel bag with his foot. The smell of bacon-wrapped turkey-bones emerging from inside! To Ross, he explains: "Shark-fishing." Ross leaps back as the sharkperson launches out of the water. She harmlessly, for once, rolls backwards, falling on her back. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, the fucking SHARK TWINS are here?." She continues to repeat more expletives under her breath, before rolling onto her face. Her hope of swimming in and conquering the lake has been squashed because her self-proclaimed nemesises has shown up. She reaches into her pocket, grabbing a piece of teriyaki beef jerky which she pocketed, and tossing it into her mouth, still faced downwards, and begins munching on it, angry. Then again, she's always angry, so... "We live here," the boy answers, mildly, "/I/ wouldn't get surprised if I knocked on the door to your dorm and found you inside it." The fish in his hands still thrashes; when he looks down at it he only just seems to /notice/ he's still holding it. With a frown that looks almost distressed, one very sharp black claw lengthens -- from barely-dangerous looking tiny nub to a gleaming-long spike that he drives quickly through the fish's skull. The thrashing stops. He wiggles his claw side to side. "Drum?" he offers Peter cheerfully, holding up impaled fish, still hooked over his claw and slapped down into the palm of his hand. "I could even," he says this like it's a /novel/ idea, "make a fire and /cook/ it." Except he's already nibbling hungrily at the bacon he's wrapped it in. Sniffing eagerly at the bag. "-- Oh my /god/, /bacon/-wrapped drum? -- C'mon," he's extending the offer to Ross now, too, with a small quick smile, "s'gotta be better than jerky." The line stops pulling for a moment, when Peter gives it slack. Then a tentative tug. Then nothing. Then another blue hand snakes its way out of the water to latch on to Peter's /ankle/ and pull. REVERSE fishing. "Is that the kind of fish it is?" Peter asks, attention split between the sharkboy with the fish, and the sharkboy in the water. "Y'know, I've never even -- had much seafood my uncle and I would fish but we'd -- let 'em all go, kind of just did it for fun? I could try some cooked fish it would be maybe kind of--" SQUEAK. Peter's eyes pop open as that blue hand snaps out and /seizes/ hold of his ankle; with a single pull, Peter's arms are flailing -- and in he goes! The fishing pole is held for just a moment, before he lets go in mid-air -- then -- SPLOSH! He's promptly /thrashing/ with a surprised yelp, head bobbing under the surface briefly, eyes squeezed shut -- but when his head pops back out, it's with a grin. And a hard /shake/ of his head, slinging water everywhere as he slaps at his hair, trying to get it out of his eyes. "...did he," Peter accuses Sharkboy #1 as he splutters for breath, "just use you as a /decoy/ to catch /me/?" Ross lifts herself up, smirking at the Sharkperson. "Not when I build my secret bunker. Somehow.", she replies, sarcastically. She listens to their conversation, when S1 offers the bacon wrapped leg. She smells it, immediately repulsing from the sense. She begins gagging. "Gah, no, eww bacon. It's disgusting and tastes nasty. No thanks, I'll enjoy my delicious beef jerky, instead of fucking bacon.". She munches on her beef jerky some more, enjoying it. Suddenly, Peter sploosh. She leaps back again, this time not falling. as Peter falls into the lake. "Peter! Are you okay?", she yells, worriedly. She then munches another piece of beef jerky. Thing One just offers a bright smile to this accusation! Nibbles on bacon. Thing Two curls an arm around Peter, and wipes a hand across Peter's forehead /for/ him, helping with the hair. "Oh, /man/, you brought a whole /thing/ of bacon? We could have a feast. C'mon let's do this." "-- You could just eat the fish and not the bacon," suggests Thing One to Ross. He peels the bacon /off/ of the now unconscious and dying drum, popping it in his mouth. YUM. "It's a freshwater drum," Thing Two answers the first question. "There's a couple of saltwater kinds, too, but --" Shrug. "They're -- bigger." He pulls himself up against the pier alongside his brother, sluicing water off his skin as he rises half out of the water. "-- where'd I leave my clothes," is kind of absent; he doesn't seem to /care/ much although notably (though he's still half-submerged) he isn't /wearing/ any. Thing One gestures farther down towards the boathouse. "I brought," Peter agrees, grinning widely beneath Thing Two's hand-wipe, "a whole thing of bacon. S'all been baked and wrapped up and some of it is wound over turkeybones 'cuz I couldn't think of a better way to attach it to a fishing rod and..." Peter /squeezes/ back! But only quickly; unlike the sharktwins, he needs /all/ his appendages to say afloat; he is not very good at the swimming thing yet. He knows enough to keep his head well above the surface, at least! "--oh yeah," Peter says back to Ross, "I'm fine I mean I can swim, s'okay." As Thing Two moves to clambor out of the water and up the dock, Peter briefly flushes violet! But otherwise just keeps treading water. "--is it okay? To make a fire in the woods here? I mean I guess you guys do it all the time? I actually have no idea um I mean," Peter's eyes drift back to his duffel bag. Slowly pushing his way through the water back toward the dock! "--how /deep/ does the lake go, anyway? Like, underwater. Could I reach the bottom if I held my breath?" Ross immediately shakes her head, puts hands in pocket, pulls out like, /several/ things of beef jerky. "I'm fine, beef jerky is amazing.". She still has no idea which sharktwin is which, and doesn't really care. Ross begins laughing when S2 mentions his lack of clothes, as she leaps back onto her towel. "I could fetch like, beverages, if you'd guys want. It'd take maybe a minute at most.". She smiles at Peter. "Peter, I bet you could reach teh bottom if you held your breath. The problem would be getting to the surface alive.". She smirks, nibbling on beef jerky, opening another packet once this one is done. "Beef jerky /is/ pretty great," Thing Two points out to Thing One. "We don't do it /all/ the time we, um. Usually eat everything raw?" Thing One shrugs, quick hitch-jerk. "Mmm. /Here/? Here you could make it to the bottom. Even a little bit out. But --" "-- /there/," Thing Two is gesturing farther off, where the lake glitters off into the distance, "out where we sleep, no. I don't think --" "-- wouldn't want you to try," Thing One says, shaking his head. He pulls himself out of the water (also sans clothing), offers one wet but at least not fish-bloody hand to Peter to help him out, too. Thing Two is eying Ross thoughtfully. "Fetch beverages?" he sounds -- uncertain. He pulls /himself/ out, too, the rest of the way, and /also/ offers a hand. TWO hands. Peter will get SO pulled out of the water. "We wouldn't let him /drown/. It just might not be fun." Thing One tips his head around to eye Ross, too. His other hand (still with dead fish held in it) hangs at his side. "Iiii think it'd take more than a minute," he says /also/ uncertainly, squinting across the wide grounds to the mansion, "/I/ couldn't even run to the mansion in a minute. Um -- but -- why --" he doesn't finish this question. His brother's lips twitch upwards faintly. "I need," Peter decides, "to get an oxygen tank. So I can check out the bottom of the lake with you guys, at some point. I have a snorkel in my duffel bag," he adds, but this last comment is a little shy, as if quietly acknowledging the /complete inadequacy/ of his current equipment to allow him to get down that far. Peter accepts the hands! And props his feet against the pier, apparently oblivious to the threat of SPLINTERS and BARNACLES. There's a bit of scraping as he scrambles up, but in an instant, he's out of the water, his clothes now /thoroughly/ soaked. He looks a bit happier (probably because of the coolness) now, though; in an instant he's darting toward his duffel bag to search. For things! "I brought," Peter states, quite proud of himself, "drinks too. Um just, like. Two bottles of iced tea actually they're just for me I didn't know if /you/ guys or Ross would want anything." Peter yanks out more of the bone-wrapped turkeys! And also, just a plastic baggy /stuffed/ full of crispy, baked bacon. "How could you guys stop me from drowning though? Like do you mean -- /oh/ can you like -- feed people air? With your gills? Would that even /work/?" Peter asks, suddenly -- intensely curious! If naked twins bothers him he doesn't show it; he seems more grossed out by the raw fish. But only a little bit. Ross hmphs, scratching her skin and eating more jerky. "I could totally do it in less than a second. Also, why what? Hmm?" She quickly turns to Peter. "Snorkels are under-rated, you could like, totally do it.". She says this sarcastically, biting off more jerky. "Peter, you didn't even know I'd be here. It's not your fault. I'll still blame you though." Ross quickly turns to him, smiling. "That sounds disgusting. Gill to mouth? It's like kissing a fish!". Ross rolls onto the ground, finishing the jerky and grabbing more. She tightens her bathing suit as she does this. "-- I've never tried that," says Thing One, thoughtfully, but then snorts, "-- but /no/, I just --" "-- meant that we'd pull you /out/. Before you drowned, c'/mon/." Thing Two leans forward to snatch! at the baggy of bacon. SnatchgrabCHOMP, okay he cannot chomp yet. He opens it first, and offers it to his brother /before/ taking a piece to chomp. "Peter you brought a /feast/." Thing One is /probably/ like *_* right now, you just can't tell because his eyes are still mostly just huge coal-black pits. Thing Two munches bacon. Happily! "-- Peter likes kissing fish just fine," he says lightly. He tips to the side, bonking his head against his brother's shoulder. "I'm getting our clothes. /Then/ fire. And /fish/, oh man. -- I think what he was asking is why are you being nice. Suddenly." He gets to his feet, stretches lazily, bonks both Peter and Bastian lightly on the shoulders with closed fists and slips down off the pier back into the water. Shortest route to the boathouse. And CLOTHES. "We're buying you scuba gear," Thing One says, seriously. "-- could we /make/ you scuba gear?" Peter blushes at the mention of fish-kissing, but otherwise just silently offers BAG OF BACON to Thing #2; upon bacon-snatching, he grins, and only adds to the mention of the feast: "Ms. Chavan made it, I have no idea how to make -- I mean I've done it in a frying pan but did you know you can make bacon in an /oven/?" he says, as if this was. An /amazing/ thing. The shoulder-bonk is received! And Peter watches as Thing #2 slips back into the water, still grinning thoughtfully. "--oh Ross you don't mind. Cooked fish, right? Um. I mean -- I dunno so many people have different diets here, and..." Peter turns to blink at Thing #1! Who is, /probably/, Sebastian. "--I dunno. Could we? I bet we could. Oh man, I wonder if I could incorporate it into the suit I already -- um, I mean. That'd probably be overdoing it? But I meant to make it machine washable /anyway/. But, just a normal scuba suit would work too, I imagine. I have /no/ idea how they work though I've never even really gone /swimming/ before I met you guys." Ross laughs when Peter blushes. "Yeah, cooked fish is fine! My father and brothers used to go fishing all the time until they died.". Her mention of their death immediately sends her usually energetic mood away, having just mentioned it without thinking. She leans her head downwards, but decides to snap out of it to not be a downer. "So, uh...what type of...fish?". Ross slowly gets this out, slightly embarassed. She begins eating her beef jerky more, before laughing to attempt to look happy, failing miserably. She turns away, not wanting to ruin their fun. "I think," says Thing One -- who is /indeed/ Sebastian, his smile curves small and carefully closed-lipped in warm amusement at Peter's idea, "that maybe we should just focus right now on. Making the suit really good how it /is/ and then expand it into a -- /everything/ suit. It doesn't /have/ to do everything, though, you know. Sometimes it's better to do one thing really /well/." The rest of his claws are lengthening; he's slicing the fish open in deft practiced strokes to gut it and clean it right there on the pier. The smile fades, his head tipping to the side at Ross's words. "Did you go with them?" he wonders absently. Slice slice slice. "This type of fish." His claws continue working, quick-efficient at the silver fish. "It's a drum. There's a lot of them in this lake." "They aren't quite as tasty as some of the others," Shane is ambling back, now -- now he has boxers on! Clinging wetly to him; he's also got a /bundle/ of other clothes, some of which are presumably Bastian's, tucked in his arm as he makes his way back down the pier. He dumps the clothing well out of the way of fishguts. But keeps in hand one piece of it -- a wide red collar, /that/ he offers to Peter instead. "But they're kind of everywhere and there's not really any danger of /over/fishing them so I like to eat them." "--yeah," Peter agrees with Sebastian, a little flustered at this. "I guess I -- keep wanting to do /all/ the things but, yeah, we should -- yes. Concentrate on making it do the things it's /supposed/ to do, first." He watches, fascinated! As Sebastian guts and cleans the fish. Ross's mention of dead father-and-brothers gets Peter's eyebrows to quirk up, a quick glance of concern thrown her way -- but he doesn't say anything as Sebastian asks whether or not she also fished. When Shane returns, Peter's concern melts away into a bright, easy grin -- he reaches for the collar, taking it happily! And shifting forward to, maybe with a slight fluster of his face, buckle it around Shane's neck -- fingertips brushing across his jaw as he does so. Making sure the flaps are over the gills, and the bright red <3 is at the front. There's a certain quiet /focus/ to this act; it's only when he finishes that he speaks: "--oh you guys. Like, selectively hunt? Based on -- fish populations? That's cool. Are there fish you don't hunt 'cuz of that?" Ross looks down at her wrist, realizing she doesn't have a watch. "Oh shit oh shit, I have /detention/. Like, in five minutes. Shit, what do I do....". Her sadness has been replaced by worrying that she will get in even more trouble as she gets up, pacing back and forth. "I'm sorry guys, I'll have to go. Enjoy your...whatever.". She then sits down, and begins finishing her slim jims, for whatever reason, having completely forgot about the sadness from earlier. "Skip it, s'what I always do," Shane says with a quick grin. He turns to peck Peter lightly on the cheek, arm snaking around the other boy's waist. Sebastian grimaces, finishing his FISH cleaning and laying out neat strips of fishmeat against the bacon. "Don't skip it, you'll just get /more/ detention." He leans over the edge of the pier to wash fishguts off his hand before reaching for his shorts to tug them on. "But yeah, we -- you know," his nose wrinkles, "it's funny because people always like to feed us fish --" "-- like out /here/ but we don't actually /like/ to eat fish that much?" Shane finishes. "I mean we /do/. Tastewise. S'fucking delicious. But /commercial/ fishing is pretty high up on things that are completely screwing over the environment so --" His shoulder hitches upwards. "So we like to do it ourselves. There's definitely fish that are /terrible/ and fish that are okay --" "-- and /some/ places are good about it but it can be hard finding which is which -- like /troll/ yellowfin tuna is good up here but pretty much all bluefin is /so/ overfished. Snapper is horrible which is a shame because /yum/. Preeeetty much any shark or swordfish," Shane laments. "-- he could give you a long list," Sebastian says with a small smile. "Anyway. C'mon. Let's cook this. You coming to the city with us after? There's thing tonight." "Don't," Peter advises Ross, in face of Shane's advise -- merely managing to repeat Sebastian's! -- "skip detention they will -- yes. Just give you /way/ more. Shane kind of just likes detention," Peter finishes, and then he's watching as Sebastian finishes up with the fish, listening to the sharktwins as they talk about. DELICIOUS FISH MEATS, and which they prefer to avoid. "--man I don't even know if -- like, the most I've ever had were frozen fish-sticks," Peter announces, "I don't even know what those are made of -- huh? Oh, /oh/," his eyes widen at the mention of the city thing. "--yeah, I." He grins. "Yeah, I'm coming. Hoping to see some other people there too. Ross, I'll catch you later, okay?" A hand descending for one of Shane's shoulders. Squeeze. "The trick," Shane says quite earnestly, "is to just build up a critical mass of detention and then they give up. See ya, Ross." Sebastian snorts, amused. "It's a terrible trick, it hasn't worked for him yet." "Fish sticks almost certainly had terrible fish in them. I eat a lot more land-meats, on land. They're -- mostly not so great /either/ but they're only /raping/ the earth, not, like, raping it with /switchblades/ and then pissing in the wound. Which is pretty much --" "-- a lot of commercial fishing," Bastian agrees, albeit not without a wince for his brother's colorful imagery. He gathers the meat carefully, nodding towards the woods. "There's a place where --" "--we won't burn everything down /or/ get seen from the mansion. We should get Taylor. He's coming tonight. And this is a lot of meat." His teeth flash in a bright smile at that thought. Mmmmfoods.