The Crashing of Docks.... (Eni&Platy)

[tepidtea]

The sun beamed down from its highest point in the sky, warming the earth just enough for people to think how nice shade was. The sparkle of the sunlight over the slight waves of the water was mesmerizing to the eye; it alerted that sense that it needed to be glorified. The ever-slight bob of the docks made a slight sound each time they met for the chains extended. The motion was relaxing to say the least, or at least to the raven-haired male it was. Ashton was lightly dozing on one of the far docks, away from the boats. Being in the great outdoors wasn’t his cup of tea, but Ziya had begged him for some outside activity. The boy oddly requested to try some fishing, which he’d never asked before. Perhaps it was the walk to the market and his questions to the stall keeper how eh caught his fish.

Fishing was another one of those things that reminded him of his father, whom was great for the outdoors. Hiking, fishing, boating, hunting, you name it he at attempted it and had tried to bring Ashton along for the ride. Then a trait he’d gained form his mother left him with the inability to throw things away. He’d kept all of his fathers fishing and hunting gear, though none of the guns had ammo of course. So equipping the young dust with a Child sized fishing rod, worms, a net and a little bobber and hook they were set.

“How long does it take to get a fish?” Ziya asked softly, his gray hues looking at his Guardian. Ashton had an old hat over his face to shield it from the sun, arms folded under his head. Wearing shorts for once, his sandals were near by as his feet were lazily draped in the water.

“As long as it takes…” He muttered softly, falling silent again as if listening to the water lapping against the docks, moving them in a slight soothing motion. The dust sighed, staring long and hard at his little bobber, which was dancing among the waves. The boy too had his feet in the water, his shoes up next to Ashton’s by the net and old dusty tackle box. Ziya was sitting by Ashton’s middle, just in case a fish came to tug at his line or he fell in. Not that Ashton would be much help, as he couldn’t very well swim himself, though Shepard had taught Ziya the basics.

“Oh… Okay….” Came the yellow haired boy’s reply, his eyes giving his guardian one last look before eyeing his bobber again.  

[X Purple--Platypus X]

A pair of eyes, as blue as the water lapping at the fishing boy's feet, were watching over the pair as they sat on the docks; wasting away their time in the pleasant late spring heat. The golden haired youth seemed to be the impatient type and was asking the relaxed parent how long it would take. It was quite an adorable scene, especially with the child's toes dangling in the brine, causing plenty of ripples to scare the tiny fish away and prolong the time that he would have too wait before any success. The teen was tempted to point this out to the boy, as well as adjusting his set up of the boy's rod slightly so that it would be easier for the child to handle... But it wasn't his place to intervene and rain on their parade. He was sure that they were simply out for a pleasant family day out and his intrusive fishing tips wouldn't be appreciated, if anything they'd probably snap at him for butting in.

Instead he continued his quiet watch from his perch on his boat home's roof, thoughts tumbling around his head like the waves lapping at the docks. Observing the child and his father had set of a pang of angst through the teen. What he was seeing as something totally alien to him. He'd never had a father figure to sit beside him and take him out for such blissful trips out. The orphanage hadn't been bad, but obviously he hadn't had a solid parent figure. It was also true that Jeremiah, his adoptive father, had taught him how to fish - after all, the old fisherman gaining help with hauling nets and reeling lines had been the main motive in adopting Inge. But Jeremiah's methods hadn't exactly been caring or a particularly caring way of teaching unlike the shining example on the docks right now. Snappish and rude the old man had got Inge to grips with a rod within a day or two, quick and effective but with little love.

Inge didn't believe that there wasn't love in the rugged seaman's heart; the teen liked to hope that under the weathered and sea salt battered exterior there was some feelings.. But Inge was still a child in a sense and dearly wanted that affection to shine through every once in a while... Thus, the azure eyes began to well up and he had to divert his eyes from watching. Perhaps going inside would be a better idea - to spare him from any more tear jerking acts of good parenting. However, his silent escape was rather ruined by an empty paint can falling off the roof with a clatter as he shifted his weight..