<blockquote><div align=justify>TIMESTAMP: 17 Dyo 81382 OoC; Ah, I'm really sorry that this took so long. D; And it didn't even turn out that great, for an intro. Sorry. BiC; It was Ayres' least favorite pui of his least favorite paquite of his least favorite quarter – every pui was. But today in particular was especially horrible. There was no food in the house this morning, and Ayres didn't feel like braving the queue at the grocery store – instead, he decided to go fishing. His niece, Tully, enjoyed fish for breakfast about as much as she enjoyed jumping barefoot on broken glass and barbed wire, but she was far too tired to go out for breakfast herself. So she gurgled unintelligibly from under the covers in her room while Ayres gathered his polespear, ike jime, and two-piece wetsuit from the fishing supplies closet. And as Tully dreamed away the wee hours of the morning, Ayres paced along the path to the docks. Ah, he thought as he walked, inhaling through his nostrils, That subtle, briny perfume of rotting marine life. The fish-scented air was brisk and chilly against his exposed face, hands, and feet, but the rest of his body was encased in the wetsuit specially tailored for his outrageously elongated frame – all eight feet, eight and three-quarters inches of him. And in one hand, he gripped a polespear; in the other, a curved spike attached to a wooden handle. An ike jime, used for delivering a fatal stab to a fish's hindbrain. As Ayres neared the dock, the prospect of cold water, hunting, and gutting several large fish, all before getting to eat breakfast – well, it began to seem a lot less appealing. Nevertheless, he reached the docks, located his twenty-four foot boat, and untethered the vessel before climbing aboard. Back home, he was sure, Tully was still sleeping away, tucked up nice and warm in her bed with piles of oversized quilts and comforters over her. He shivered in the frozen morning air. It wasn't fair. With a disgruntled sigh, he started up the boat's engine and eased it out of its spot, steering with a fluid, practiced grace. Out between the rows and rows of boats he went, still half-asleep and very hungry. After a bit, he neared an area that he knew was good for spearfishing. It was near enough a certain shore to swim to, but most vacationing 'dragons didn't swim there on account of the territorial fish species. Ayres hated swimming more than he had to, so he eased his boat as near as he dared, then he cut the engine and grabbed his polespear. Taking a few deep breaths, he eyed the frigid water and seated himself on the edge of the boat railing. He knew he had to do it; he had to jump in and find something to eat. He had to, so he and Tully could have breakfast. But it was just too damn early to fish. Well, y'know, Ayres told himself groggily, I'm gonna have to find something for breakfast. Taking on hordes of screaming customers is not advisable on an empty stomach.</div>
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td> <font style="font-family: verdana; font-size:12px;">OOC: naw, it's fine! i'm a little rusty myself anyway. hey, don't forget to timestamp. -- He was certainly not a vacationing pendragon, that was certain. The white-bright morning's cool breeze ran through the arden's aqua coat as he stood upon the beach's shore. It bore the smells of the early day, sea brine and dew. A deep inhale would find the scent to be a most welcoming part of a seaside awakening. Or, at least, so was the case for Ploy. He puttered forward after relishing in the glory of the new pui and then ventured a first foot into the lapping lick of the tide. Immediately, it jolted him with a flurry of sensation. The hairs on his body launched upright. His flesh bore goosepimples. And his groin tightened ever so slightly. All of it was familiar, and in its familiarity he still found sheer delight. The quivering cold was refreshing. It snuck through the body, danced up the spine like spider-legs, and claimed all it touched. Partnered with the bittersweet nip of the fresh Dyo's early pui, the seaside cool was just the perfect thing to revitalize those groggy morning senses. Ploy's lips curled into a molasses slow smile. He was there to fish, just like Ayres was. He'd risen just before the crack of dawn to arrive here at the most crucial fishing time in the pui. But unlike Ayres, he came equipt rather minimally for most of what he needed was found on his body, simple as that. This morning's trip was naught more than an event of pleasure. Although the objective was to catch something edible, Ploy had decided to take the day off from the market to come make play. Few who were immersed in the business world ever gave themselves any time for play through the week. A day lost meant less gained, financially, but Ploy wasn't an arden with much to begin with. The water's depth increased as he approached the endless horizon. The sound of his otherwise quiet steps now plagued with the splutter and splash of the rippling waters, though not for long. Soon, he'd stepped far along enough to find the water hip-high and no longer too cold for comfort. At this point he made the final treacherous dip in. His aqua body arched, and then...! The liquid-glass filled in the break where his body once stood. A moment later, a boat puttered in. </td></tr> <tr><td style="background-color: #8cb1a7;"> <font color="#e2e0af" style="font-size:15pt; font-family: comic sans ms; line-height:6pt;"> PLOY AHACK SETTE </font></td></tr> </table>
