childe | tartaglia | a̶j̶a̶x (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
narbrawl) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
jigokulogs2022-07-10 08:56 pm
narbrawl) wrote in jigokulogs2022-07-10 08:56 pm
Entry tags:
[open] excuse my ego can't go incognito
Who Childe & you!
What Childe caught a sea bass! No, wait—it's at least a C+! aka fishing adventures in Jigokucho!
When Mid July
Where By the Sanzu
Content Warnings N/A
i. sega bass fishing
[Under any other circumstances, going fishing in the evening would feel downright unnatural to Childe. He’s used to rising before even the sun, to trudging across snow fields and watching a blanket of golden light creep across the ice. In its place, he finds himself bathed in neon and perched on a railing beneath the underpass where Shugou-dori cuts the river in two. According to the owner of the bait shop, not only is this a prime spot but the time of day is absolutely crucial to that: ”Trust me, after dark is when you start reeling in the big boys. You won’t even know what hit you.”
Well, so far he hasn’t seen much proof of that. The bucket at his side is sadly empty of fish but, judging by the array of old bottles lined up next to him, he’s made good progress with the more… inanimate residents of the Sanzu. It doesn’t bother him; fishing, at least nowadays, isn’t so much about the haul as the act itself and, even in the middle of a bustling city, it immediately calms Childe’s mind.
Overhead, the foot traffic is constant and the back and forth of Jigoku-cho’s night owls casts warped, flickering shadows across the concrete. He meditates. On the city. On each of his most recent fights, the shots he should have taken and the blows he could have avoided- nearly chipped a tooth that one time, that’s no good at all. And, against a surprising amount of mental resistance, the events of the month before. He’s still waking up with the taste of corrupted blood in his mouth, something that hasn’t happened since he was a child, and it unsettles him to know how much hold those memories still have on him. The stutterer is gone and Tartaglia has taken his place but it won’t-
The line snags, dragging him out of his thoughts- and he’s met with immediate disappointment.
Pulling a waterlogged massage wand out of the river, Childe decides, is a sign that he should take a break. Sighing, he takes the end of the wand between two fingers and dumps it beside the bottles.]
… I’m starting to think I got taken for a ride…
[Oh, and of course he’s doing it all in style.]
ii. super black bass 2
[Okay, maybe that was premature.
There’s something in there. Childe has spent the last fifteen minutes watching it circling his line and, though its shape is indistinct thanks to the murky water, it’s definitely big. Since when did fish that size live in the middle of a city? It’s not like he has any intention of putting anything he catches in his mouth given some of the stuff he’s pulled out so far but this is a challenge he can’t back down from. Hell, it even feels a little like he’s being mocked.
There’s a light splash and, frowning, he leans forward. The shape has gone- and then suddenly so has the fly. Before he has a chance to react, the rod jerks in his hands and the line begins to unwind like crazy as something big snags on it. With a startled laugh, Childe begins his counterattack, reeling it in as fast as he can without snapping it altogether. It’s a lot harder than it seems and, by this point, whatever it is on the end is splashing so hard that the spray comes over the railing.
Wedging one foot against the post, he turns and calls out to the nearest person. His grin is broad and his eyes shine even in the gloom.]
Hey-! Gimme a hand over here!
iii. reel fishing: wild
[Or, you know, he could eat shit.
The rod is the first thing to go, flying forward and dragging him with it before he has a chance to steady himself. There’s something oddly comedic about the way Childe goes, head first, over the side and into the water.
Now there’s a splash.]
What Childe caught a sea bass! No, wait—it's at least a C+! aka fishing adventures in Jigokucho!
When Mid July
Where By the Sanzu
Content Warnings N/A
i. sega bass fishing
[Under any other circumstances, going fishing in the evening would feel downright unnatural to Childe. He’s used to rising before even the sun, to trudging across snow fields and watching a blanket of golden light creep across the ice. In its place, he finds himself bathed in neon and perched on a railing beneath the underpass where Shugou-dori cuts the river in two. According to the owner of the bait shop, not only is this a prime spot but the time of day is absolutely crucial to that: ”Trust me, after dark is when you start reeling in the big boys. You won’t even know what hit you.”
Well, so far he hasn’t seen much proof of that. The bucket at his side is sadly empty of fish but, judging by the array of old bottles lined up next to him, he’s made good progress with the more… inanimate residents of the Sanzu. It doesn’t bother him; fishing, at least nowadays, isn’t so much about the haul as the act itself and, even in the middle of a bustling city, it immediately calms Childe’s mind.
Overhead, the foot traffic is constant and the back and forth of Jigoku-cho’s night owls casts warped, flickering shadows across the concrete. He meditates. On the city. On each of his most recent fights, the shots he should have taken and the blows he could have avoided- nearly chipped a tooth that one time, that’s no good at all. And, against a surprising amount of mental resistance, the events of the month before. He’s still waking up with the taste of corrupted blood in his mouth, something that hasn’t happened since he was a child, and it unsettles him to know how much hold those memories still have on him. The stutterer is gone and Tartaglia has taken his place but it won’t-
The line snags, dragging him out of his thoughts- and he’s met with immediate disappointment.
Pulling a waterlogged massage wand out of the river, Childe decides, is a sign that he should take a break. Sighing, he takes the end of the wand between two fingers and dumps it beside the bottles.]
… I’m starting to think I got taken for a ride…
[Oh, and of course he’s doing it all in style.]
ii. super black bass 2
[Okay, maybe that was premature.
There’s something in there. Childe has spent the last fifteen minutes watching it circling his line and, though its shape is indistinct thanks to the murky water, it’s definitely big. Since when did fish that size live in the middle of a city? It’s not like he has any intention of putting anything he catches in his mouth given some of the stuff he’s pulled out so far but this is a challenge he can’t back down from. Hell, it even feels a little like he’s being mocked.
There’s a light splash and, frowning, he leans forward. The shape has gone- and then suddenly so has the fly. Before he has a chance to react, the rod jerks in his hands and the line begins to unwind like crazy as something big snags on it. With a startled laugh, Childe begins his counterattack, reeling it in as fast as he can without snapping it altogether. It’s a lot harder than it seems and, by this point, whatever it is on the end is splashing so hard that the spray comes over the railing.
Wedging one foot against the post, he turns and calls out to the nearest person. His grin is broad and his eyes shine even in the gloom.]
Hey-! Gimme a hand over here!
iii. reel fishing: wild
[Or, you know, he could eat shit.
The rod is the first thing to go, flying forward and dragging him with it before he has a chance to steady himself. There’s something oddly comedic about the way Childe goes, head first, over the side and into the water.
Now there’s a splash.]