Fishing - [Risa; the Scotts]
Aug. 14th, 2009 04:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
allmhadadhFishing on the sea shore was virtually impossible for any number of reasons; the biggest being, of course, that they had several seriously pissed off dockhands who would probably have an eye out for them. But another reason was that it was too busy and bustling for any such thing, and therefore any attempt at fishing would have to be made somewhere slightly quieter.
Risa's weather-net system controlled everything. Rain, temperatures, everything. It was a fine tightrope to walk, controlling the climate of an entire world, and when the system fell it tended to be nearly catastrophic. Luckily for the inhabitants and tourists, it only rarely did that. But it was a fine tightrope and certainly there had to be some balance towards natural ecology.
On the interior side of the city, among mountains and cliffs and trees were the rivers that fed the sea; deep cut rivers that were still surprisingly untamed on a world where everything else seemed to be. And the fishing there was good.
Scotty had stopped back at the locker to grab his paperwork, and the PADD for the other Scott if he so wanted it to navigate them, and they hopped the public transit system that was pretty much free to get out of the city for a few hours. Back in those mountains and trees were plenty of hiking trails, but it was surprisingly bereft of parasitic insect life, or at least the kind with a taste for human blood, and it was likewise bereft of all that many people. The sounds of the city faded to the sounds of leaves and water and echoes off of rock; the light filtered down in dappled yellows across near-black dirt and green ferns. They certainly weren't the only people who would fish here; in fact, they rented their poles at a shack catering to fishermen up the road from the trails, but it was fairly quiet.
The younger Scott thought any number of times that he should beg off, that he should tell the older one that he had no right to go interrupting shore leave, that there was no obligation and about a million other things that were far too ingrained into his thought patterns. Somehow, he stopped himself each time. That had gotten them no where, and it was fairly clear now that they tended to make the other Scotty unhappy. He didn't really understand why they did, but he knew he didn't want to cause that look anymore. He just kept reinforcing in his own head that if the other Scott didn't want to be here, he wouldn't be. It would probably take him awhile to believe that, but he worked on it.
He himself was not sure how to feel, except still half-exhausted. But in a good way. Where you were too tired to be so jumpy, but awake enough not to miss things. He still felt off-balanced and like he was in rough waters, but not on his beam-ends, waiting for the sea to take him down. Ultimately, if he had any specific way to describe it, he would probably say that he was a little lost, and a bit afraid, and rather warmed, and trying to both retain himself and still flex enough to let someone else do the leading, even if this outing was his idea. He was pretty sure all that was a first, in his living memory. He didn't try to wonder if it would be the last; just lived the now.
Risa's weather-net system controlled everything. Rain, temperatures, everything. It was a fine tightrope to walk, controlling the climate of an entire world, and when the system fell it tended to be nearly catastrophic. Luckily for the inhabitants and tourists, it only rarely did that. But it was a fine tightrope and certainly there had to be some balance towards natural ecology.
On the interior side of the city, among mountains and cliffs and trees were the rivers that fed the sea; deep cut rivers that were still surprisingly untamed on a world where everything else seemed to be. And the fishing there was good.
Scotty had stopped back at the locker to grab his paperwork, and the PADD for the other Scott if he so wanted it to navigate them, and they hopped the public transit system that was pretty much free to get out of the city for a few hours. Back in those mountains and trees were plenty of hiking trails, but it was surprisingly bereft of parasitic insect life, or at least the kind with a taste for human blood, and it was likewise bereft of all that many people. The sounds of the city faded to the sounds of leaves and water and echoes off of rock; the light filtered down in dappled yellows across near-black dirt and green ferns. They certainly weren't the only people who would fish here; in fact, they rented their poles at a shack catering to fishermen up the road from the trails, but it was fairly quiet.
The younger Scott thought any number of times that he should beg off, that he should tell the older one that he had no right to go interrupting shore leave, that there was no obligation and about a million other things that were far too ingrained into his thought patterns. Somehow, he stopped himself each time. That had gotten them no where, and it was fairly clear now that they tended to make the other Scotty unhappy. He didn't really understand why they did, but he knew he didn't want to cause that look anymore. He just kept reinforcing in his own head that if the other Scott didn't want to be here, he wouldn't be. It would probably take him awhile to believe that, but he worked on it.
He himself was not sure how to feel, except still half-exhausted. But in a good way. Where you were too tired to be so jumpy, but awake enough not to miss things. He still felt off-balanced and like he was in rough waters, but not on his beam-ends, waiting for the sea to take him down. Ultimately, if he had any specific way to describe it, he would probably say that he was a little lost, and a bit afraid, and rather warmed, and trying to both retain himself and still flex enough to let someone else do the leading, even if this outing was his idea. He was pretty sure all that was a first, in his living memory. He didn't try to wonder if it would be the last; just lived the now.
