Gone Fishing

Fishing had been one of the very first activities Lewis had witnessed when he surfaced, having based his appearance off a boy being taught the skills; and so naturally it became a rather nostalgic pastime for them. It could be a peaceful moment to yourself, shared in the company of close friends or even lead to meeting new people, passing the hours with chatter and the excitement of a bite. In truth he didn’t have all too many people who fit the close friend bill, but he’d had some of the best conversations with those few who did. Usually they were other dreadnauts, no, they were always dreadnauts, able to discuss more shared experiences and talk about things he’d never dream of letting slip to anyone born on land.

It had already been decided, today would just be personal time. Muttering to himself, he gathered up all the things he would need from their various homes around Starling’s house, everything felt so scattered but at least it was an organised mess, mostly. Fetching his hat from the stair post was the final task and he walked into the tv room where he seemed to be watching the usual odd programs, this time something about aliens. Lewis tapped him on the shoulder to signal he was going out, prompting him to bend backwards over the couch to see him and give a thumbs up; his die-eye spun with movement and he realised the mistake of inverting, switching the direction of his hand so it read correctly the right way up. The door creaked when opening like every other day and Starling righted himself, silently wishing for his housemate’s outing to go well. 

Stair three was still broken and he hopped down, it had made his entire month when he’d been able to move into this rickety place, even if it was a little bit of a trek to make it back to the lake. Trek he would, taking in the scenery of the place he’d called home for centuries now; he missed the pines it had been named after, but the rusty earth formed such interesting shapes in their place and more hardy plants clung on. Greetings were swapped with a few strangers on his way over, nothing more than a smile and nod or hello, but the acknowledgement felt nice. 

He was glad to see his spot was all but deserted once he arrived, since the weather was so nice he was concerned it would’ve been busier, but it really would be nice and quiet this time. The little dock was a perfect place to sit and so he laid out his things by the end, taking his place with faux talons creating ripples on the lake’s surface. After all his practice he’d formulated the perfect bait, prepping a line to be cast.

It flew out in one perfect motion, the little bobber making a satisfying plop as it landed in the water, and now to wait. Clouds drifted by slowly and Lewis found himself seeing images in them, first a conch, next a rather large jellyfish, and so on and so on. A gentle tug on the line pulled him out of daydreaming and he went to reel in, not wanting to pull too hard but aware he might miss his chance. It felt awfully light but he wanted to believe it could still be a decent fish, however as it neared him it became crystal clear that it was nothing more than a plastic bag. Just trash. His face wrinkled in disgust as he was forced to pull out the disgusting thing, not wanting to leave it to harm the environment, and despite its many holes it still threatened to tip its watery contents onto his lap.

Next catch simply had to be good to make up for whatever that was, and of course something had taken his bait and swam off. Oh well. He cast off once more, crossing his fingers for a bigger bite, well, any bite at all really. Trash like that was a terrible start to the day. Again the bobber dipped below the surface and he was quicker to react, however when it felt light in a similar manner he felt dread creep up. Was the deep really going to spend the whole afternoon spitting worthless items at him? At least he could clean the place up a little. A shining sparkle caught his eye as he planned to reset, his mood switching from annoyance to curiosity. 

Gleaming on the end of his hook was a fascinating scale which felt as if it held some sort of power, now this could make him forgive the plastic. Perhaps it would be a bountiful day after all.