[Log] Fishing on Newhall

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Island Clearing, Newhall
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Peeper is lounging a ways down the beach, far from sight of anyone else. She also tugs a lot at the swimsuit that she bought on a slick sale girl's recommendation.


Tyr hops out of the O'Malley, his sleeves rolled up, but in his jeans and boots nonetheless. "I really gotta purchase a swimsuit, don't you think, Sai?" he asks the second mate.


Early morning finds Saienne standing at the foot of Grace's ramp carefully wrapping a length of fine monofilament line around her fingers. The top of the line is attached to a piece of wood. She has her canvas satchel slung over one shoulder and her hat crammed onto her head. Despite the hour, there is heat to the bright air. Not the clammy and humid horror of midday, but a dry and fresh heat that carries with it the promise of a very beautiful day. She is concentrating on winding her line, but she does notice Peeper down on the shore in her swimsuit, and looks up, sideways, to Tyr when he comments. "A swimsuit? That what that is?" She grins crookedly.


Peeper pokes her head up like a meerkat, turning it to and fro, and when she spots people, even at distance, she tries to bury herself in blanket and sand.


"Well. It's a bikini," says Tyr, as if he's not quite getting the implied irony there. "So. Yeah." He shrugs his shoulders, then waves to Peeper. "Hey, Peeper!"


Peeper pauses for a long, long moment. Aparently the invisibility didn't take. She raises a hand gingerly and waves back for a moment.


Saienne squints down the beach towards where Peeper is trying to bury herself. "Bikini." Saienne rolls the word around in her mouth as if she's never said it before. "Good gorram. I just ain't got the... nerve, I reckon." As she speaks, she is winding the line still, and getting to an end of it she slips it off her fingers and around the piece of wood. She pushes her sleeves up to her elbows. "Reckon that's just about as much as my flesh as folks should be forced into seein'." She grins crookedly and looks to Tyr. "You headin' on down to the shore, then?" Peeper's wave gains a cheerful wave in return.


Tyr shrugs his shoulders. "Well, you may not got the nerve, but you got the rest," suggests Tyr. It's more light teasing than real flirting. "And yeah. Maybe I'll go see what Peep is up to."


Peeper is up to feeling caught. She was laying out under the sun, but now she curls up to try and hide the expanses of bare skin. She rubs sunscreen over her skin as well, and her cheeks burn with a familiar embarassment.


Saienne laughs to Tyr. "Oh, give over," she says, chuckling her low, rumbling laugh. "I ain't the type, an' you know it." She hoists tucks her wound line into her satchel and then hoists the thing a little more securely over her shoulder. She starts down the path towards the shore and, drawing up to Peeper's curled form, comes to a stop. "Mornin'," she says, clearing her throat. "Room for company?"


Peeper blinks, and blinks again. She just nods and looks towards her feet, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth a bit.


"Hey, Peeper. It ain't no big thing. I'm not gonna stare or nothing." Tyr settles himself down next to the computer tech, looking out at the ocean. "And what is that wire for, Sai?"


Peeper just slumps, looking at her own chets and then deciding it's not such a surprising reaction. She scrunches her toes in the sand quietly and uses her usual tactic of stone silence to keep out saying something dumb.


Saienne nods in agreement with Tyr's assessment. "I expect we could face the other way, even, an' if I tilt my hat brim just so -" which she does "- it stops me seein' anythin' above a certain height, so if I sit down..." And, so saying, she does, folding her legs beneath her as she sinks into the sand. "Well, hell, I can barely see anythin' but your toes anyhow." Saienne tilts her head and peers back up at Tyr. "Fishin'," she says. "I thought I might try catchin' us some lunch or somesuch." She pats her satchel. "It ain't nothin' more sophisticated than a crab line, but I might get lucky."


Despite his promise not to took, Peeper might notice that Tyr glances over when she looks down at her chest. And then he follows her eyes. And looks a bit. But then glances away. "Ah. Fishin'. I didn't think about that. If you get somethin' good, I could grill it on up."


Peeper still isn't brave enough to stretch out in so little fabric. She looks to the horizon, mumbles a quiet hello, and sets her gaze on the horizon.


"'Good' might be stretchin' the truth of things a little. It ain't like I had any proper tackle stashed away in my bunk..." She grins again, crookedly. "But my brother Daniel did always say that fishin' was more luck an' skill than anythin' else, so I reckon we'll see. I reckon I got the luck, even if I ain't got the skill." She looks between Tyr's tanned face and Peeper's coral-tipped toes and the brim of her hat casts a dark shadow over her eyes. "So. Either of you done any fishin' before? Got some skill hidin'... somewhere?"


Peeper just shakes her head to answer the profered question.


Tyr shakes his head. "I would go to the shallow little ponds and try to catch 'em with a net or my hands to grill up," he explains. "But not so much with a line and a pole. Or -- well. Whatever." He gestures at Sai's contraption.


Saienne shakes her head. "Just a line an' some hooks that I bent up out of..." She trails off and rubs one thumb along the line of her jaw. "Suffice to say, if Hatch comes round askin' about... somethin'... missin'... it surely had nothin' to do with me." She grins again, brightly. "So - a little skill, but plenty of luck. I reckon I'm goin' to walk along to the rocks an' see what I can see." She has bent forward to unlace her boots, and while talking is rolling her trousers up to her knees - the ugly scar around her ankle showing proud in the bright sunlight. "Either of you comin'?"


Tyr shrugs his shoulders and gets on up to his feet. "I don't see why not, Sai," he says to her. "I might as well come along, right?"


Saienne starts to walk down the beach, her feet sinking into the hot dry sand making her gait slightly laboured until they hit the harder wet sand of the shoreline. "So, shallow ponds? Back by the ranch? We din't have no ponds, really - just a creek runnin' down the back of the orchard. Best days of my gorram life, sittin' there with Daniel an' William in the sunshine." She smiles at Tyr, a smile tinged only slightly with sadness, and asks: "Did you go on your own, then? Up to the ponds?"


"They weren't much, but they had fish sometimes," says Tyr with a shrug. "And sometimes I'd go alone. Sometimes -- I'd go with my folks or a friend."


Saienne muses, as they walk parallel to the clear waters, "I never did much like fishin' on my own, truth be told. Always felt a little too solitary, an' all." Her manner is such that it indicates something of a withdrawal. "Din't mean to pry." She says, seriously, and pokes around inside her satchel for a moment. "I reckon," she says, in lighter tones, "We should try from the rocks. In the shallows. Try for little 'uns."


"Naw. It's all right, Sai. I mean, I consider ya a pal and all. You can ask. Just get kinda blue when I think about my folks soemtimes." Tyr shrugs his shoulders, as if to dismiss that there would be a problem with her asking.


"Well, me an' all. Not my mother, so much - never did see eye to eye - but certainly Daniel an' Lottie." She pauses to look out across the sea. There is nothing but the reef on the horizon; waves crashing on coral with a thunder muted only by distance. "But I often think talkin' on them helps keep them livin', in some... that don't make no sense." She grins crookedly again and puts a foot on a low rock, ready to clamber up and start fishing. "Good gorram," she mutters, wincing because the stone is not as smooth as she would like - crumbly granite all covered in large white barnacles. "I ain't been ramblin' barefoot in so long that the soles of my gorram feet have turned to marshmallow, or somthin'."


"Aw. It made sense to me, Sai," says Tyr with a brief grin. "So don't think nothin' of it." He gives her a little elbow of 'cheer up.' "And yeah. S'why I kept my boots on."


Saienne looks a little keenly at Tyr, and then, her dark eyes narrowing slightly, down at his booted feet. "Well, ain't you just that little bit sharper than you look!" She smiles instantly, however, her jibe meant with nothing but good humour. "I reckon I surely won't be ramblin' far..."