SWIMMING IN MY HEAD | o, fishing

  • The only faith we have is faith in us

    "Speech"

    Cibil—the son of Poseidon, serpent of the seas, and a born pirate—was certainly made for the ocean. That much was obvious. What couldn't be noted from external features, was his affinity for working with his talons. He wasn't the most dexterous, the claws extending from the ends of his wings were a bit awkwardly placed for such intricate work as he was now attempting, but he made do. He had spent the better part of the morning tying knots and weaving a net for fishing. He hadn't ever needed to stoop to using tools for his own survival, but since he and his brother were taking up residency in this island clan for the time being, he had decided to demonstrate his fishing prowess. The most practical way to gather enough fish for everyone in the shortest time possible, Cibil had reasoned, was to craft a net and drag it through a school of fish. Shouldn't be too difficult.


    Indeed, the scaled beast found himself back in his natural element as soon as he slithers down the beach into the waters. He shifts instinctively in reaction to the salt water washing over his scales, talons retreating back into a double set of wings that turn from thinly stretched skin to rubbery flesh that propels him easily through the waves like a twin pair of flippers. He hugs the sandy ocean floor, the net caught in his fangs, long body rippling along as he peers about for silvery glints of fish. It doesn't take long before Cibil is darting through a packed grouping of tarpon. As the fish scatter around him and disperse into the shadowy waters, he reels around to examine the wriggling catch in his netting. Three tarpon trash wildly against the net and each other, still struggling to escape despite the impossibility of that task. The ends of the net are caught firmly in Cibil's powerful jaws as he thrusts himself through the glittering ocean back towards the shore. His catch, while not particularly difficult to drag through the water, becomes significantly heavier as he pulls it up onto the beach.


    The three fish, each about three or four feet and likely getting up to around one hundred pounds, should be suffice to feed a majority of the Tides. Or, at least, two of them will. The third will be an offering to Poseidon and later he will return to fish for himself and Dicearchus should his brother be preoccupied with other endeavors. Cibil heaves his still-fighting prize all the way out of the water and lays them out on the sand. Head bowed, he murmurs a quick prayer in thanks to Poseidon for providing him with a successful hunt and to the fish, honored beasts of the sea, for their ultimate sacrifice. With that, Cibil ducks his head and sinks his teeth into the spines of the tarpons, one by one until all three of them lay limp before him. Satisfied, Cibil begins to pulls them even further up the beach under the canopy of trees where he will sit to clean them.

    ( )

    take our ashes to the ocean

    who cares if hell awaits?

    were having drinks at heaven's gates

  • Wings beat the air, churning up dying leaves as Ichtaca followed the scent of prey and the squirming motions of silver within the ocean, the catsune landing upon the ground with a clatter. The adolescent landed on the ground next to the new clan member and stretched his wings out to their full extent before stretching his neck out towards the fish squirming within the net before they went still, then flicking his gaze towards the creature that held the net within his front paws. Golden-brown eyes watch silently this strange display that is nothing like his own religion, nor that this creature thinks itself as a 'god' which is a mockery in and of itself in the adolescent's opinion, the death of the trio of fish quick despite the fact they could have just as easily suffocated with being out of water. It wouldn't have taken very long. "What...what are you doing?" growled out Ichtaca, the catsune struggling to not tear into the other's flesh and consume him where he rested. Being a few hours as a member, he didn't expect anyone to know of him. Maybe they wouldn't kill him right away then...as long as he didn't resort to eating them or draining them of blood.