The Soulforged
03-23-11, 02:25 AM
Step one: be a little crazy, because let's face it, who honestly spends their mornings trying to hunt down a mermaid? And, you can't go hunting in the evening (mermaids have an early bedtime).
If a hunter has already accomplished the first step, and let's face it, a majority of people can do that with no problem at all, a hunter must find an appropriate area. It is a standard rule that the prettier the area, the prettier the catch. Well, maybe not exactly, but how often do you see pretty ladies hanging around in trashy areas. The answer? Not often.
That being said, some people prefer their women a little on the trashy side, and there ain't nothing wrong with that. Still, today's hunt was for a high-class lady, and high-class ladies are easier to find at high-class places. It's a fact of life.
The spot chosen today was prime territory. It was a lake of some sort, and MAN was it pretty. Sparsely populated by peach trees, of which the fruit was the ripest it could be, every inch of the area was well-cared for. The grass (a color of the darkest jade), was trimmed to perfection. Several rocks of some sort, possibly marble, were arranged in a most convenient fashion. Each rock also seemed to have been cut by hand, as the rocks were far too comfortable to one's buttocks when sat upon. To sit upon these rocks was to sit upon a surface that seemed to have been molded for one's very own behind.
The spot was so good, it more than likely was illegal for an ordinary person to be there. It was probably one of those places where diplomats or royalty came to relax, sunbathe, get hammered, or do whatever it was those types of people do.
If one is mentally unstable enough, and has chosen the proper location, the third step one must see to is bait. One cannot go hunting without the proper equipment. After all, offering a pretty lady nothing at all gets a hunter nothing at all in return. A hunter must have above all, the proper bait. It was at the third step that Seed had hit bit of a snag.
Just what, exactly, qualified as proper bait for a half-women half-fish creature?
Not sure of the answer, Seed figured the best thing to do was cover all his bases. In case mermaids were fish-like in their eating habits, he had procured an assortment of fish bait. Some type of eggs, some sort of doughy substance, worms, and multiple shiny objects to dangle on his pole.
He had an assortment of objects for catching female women as well, should mermaids be more inclined to female human tendencies. Several pieces of poetry, pictures of muscular men, a sack of gold, and several shiny objects to dangle on his pole. All of these things were stolen.
In order to pass the time, Seed had brought a case or three of beer. He was proud of this particular decision, because not only did he like to drink, but the beer could also double as bait for the mermaids (human female wise). With a grin, for this was shaping up to be a very good day, Seed cracked open a bottle and set himself to work.
He had already picked himself out a spot. Right next to the crystal clear water (seriously, he could shave his face in its reflection), atop a very smooth rock. Most of the time sitting on a rock was not the greatest of experiences, but as previously stated, the rocks here were something else entirely. He checked his rod (fishing rod that is), grabbed a particularly shiny lure, and gave it a try.
His cast was perfect; he had gone fishing a couple of times in his youth, and what he had learned still managed to stick around in his head. He remembered how to put the bait on the hook, as well as cast the line. With bait such as worms, the fisher simply had to sit and wait. When there was a bite, the fisher reeled the line in. With lures, the fisher had to cast out the line and reel it back in continuously. It was more work, but Seed had always preferred lures over bait. Something about seeing the sparkles in the water made fishing more fun.
The first cast proved fruitless, but that was to be expected. He would most likely have to cast the line out many times in order to get a bite. That was okay though, Seed had a whole day to kill. As well as several packs of beer. Speaking of that substance, he took a long swig of a nearby bottle.
He was forgetting something. How to catch a half-women half-fish? He was a little crazy, for sure (all right, maybe a bit more than a little). He had picked out a perfect spot, and had plenty of bait. What else was there?
"Of course!" Seed muttered as he smack his forehead. "I need a good line!"
In order to clear up what may be a misunderstanding, Seed was not referring to a fishing line. He had a good fishing line, he had tested it himself (as well as tangled it up for a good hour). No, Seed was thinking about an entirely different type of line.
The man took another drink, cleared his throat, and stood up atop his rock. He then spit on the grass, took a deep breath, and began to shout across the lake.
"Hey baby! If you were a booger I'd pick you first! No? All right, any pretty mermaids wanna go to the buffet? Just lay on the table and I'll grab what I like! Anything? 'Kay, how about this one? Any sexy mermaids wanna play house? You be the door, and I'll slam ya!"
Satisfied that he had thrown out not only one, but three good lines (four if one were to actually count the fishing line itself), he plopped back down atop his rock. With a grin, he finished his bottle (Seed could down them pretty quick), and opened another one.
"Today's gonna be a good day," He said with a smile as continued to cast his line (both physically as well as vocally) out into the beautiful lake before him.
If a hunter has already accomplished the first step, and let's face it, a majority of people can do that with no problem at all, a hunter must find an appropriate area. It is a standard rule that the prettier the area, the prettier the catch. Well, maybe not exactly, but how often do you see pretty ladies hanging around in trashy areas. The answer? Not often.
That being said, some people prefer their women a little on the trashy side, and there ain't nothing wrong with that. Still, today's hunt was for a high-class lady, and high-class ladies are easier to find at high-class places. It's a fact of life.
The spot chosen today was prime territory. It was a lake of some sort, and MAN was it pretty. Sparsely populated by peach trees, of which the fruit was the ripest it could be, every inch of the area was well-cared for. The grass (a color of the darkest jade), was trimmed to perfection. Several rocks of some sort, possibly marble, were arranged in a most convenient fashion. Each rock also seemed to have been cut by hand, as the rocks were far too comfortable to one's buttocks when sat upon. To sit upon these rocks was to sit upon a surface that seemed to have been molded for one's very own behind.
The spot was so good, it more than likely was illegal for an ordinary person to be there. It was probably one of those places where diplomats or royalty came to relax, sunbathe, get hammered, or do whatever it was those types of people do.
If one is mentally unstable enough, and has chosen the proper location, the third step one must see to is bait. One cannot go hunting without the proper equipment. After all, offering a pretty lady nothing at all gets a hunter nothing at all in return. A hunter must have above all, the proper bait. It was at the third step that Seed had hit bit of a snag.
Just what, exactly, qualified as proper bait for a half-women half-fish creature?
Not sure of the answer, Seed figured the best thing to do was cover all his bases. In case mermaids were fish-like in their eating habits, he had procured an assortment of fish bait. Some type of eggs, some sort of doughy substance, worms, and multiple shiny objects to dangle on his pole.
He had an assortment of objects for catching female women as well, should mermaids be more inclined to female human tendencies. Several pieces of poetry, pictures of muscular men, a sack of gold, and several shiny objects to dangle on his pole. All of these things were stolen.
In order to pass the time, Seed had brought a case or three of beer. He was proud of this particular decision, because not only did he like to drink, but the beer could also double as bait for the mermaids (human female wise). With a grin, for this was shaping up to be a very good day, Seed cracked open a bottle and set himself to work.
He had already picked himself out a spot. Right next to the crystal clear water (seriously, he could shave his face in its reflection), atop a very smooth rock. Most of the time sitting on a rock was not the greatest of experiences, but as previously stated, the rocks here were something else entirely. He checked his rod (fishing rod that is), grabbed a particularly shiny lure, and gave it a try.
His cast was perfect; he had gone fishing a couple of times in his youth, and what he had learned still managed to stick around in his head. He remembered how to put the bait on the hook, as well as cast the line. With bait such as worms, the fisher simply had to sit and wait. When there was a bite, the fisher reeled the line in. With lures, the fisher had to cast out the line and reel it back in continuously. It was more work, but Seed had always preferred lures over bait. Something about seeing the sparkles in the water made fishing more fun.
The first cast proved fruitless, but that was to be expected. He would most likely have to cast the line out many times in order to get a bite. That was okay though, Seed had a whole day to kill. As well as several packs of beer. Speaking of that substance, he took a long swig of a nearby bottle.
He was forgetting something. How to catch a half-women half-fish? He was a little crazy, for sure (all right, maybe a bit more than a little). He had picked out a perfect spot, and had plenty of bait. What else was there?
"Of course!" Seed muttered as he smack his forehead. "I need a good line!"
In order to clear up what may be a misunderstanding, Seed was not referring to a fishing line. He had a good fishing line, he had tested it himself (as well as tangled it up for a good hour). No, Seed was thinking about an entirely different type of line.
The man took another drink, cleared his throat, and stood up atop his rock. He then spit on the grass, took a deep breath, and began to shout across the lake.
"Hey baby! If you were a booger I'd pick you first! No? All right, any pretty mermaids wanna go to the buffet? Just lay on the table and I'll grab what I like! Anything? 'Kay, how about this one? Any sexy mermaids wanna play house? You be the door, and I'll slam ya!"
Satisfied that he had thrown out not only one, but three good lines (four if one were to actually count the fishing line itself), he plopped back down atop his rock. With a grin, he finished his bottle (Seed could down them pretty quick), and opened another one.
"Today's gonna be a good day," He said with a smile as continued to cast his line (both physically as well as vocally) out into the beautiful lake before him.