i think one of my fave things this season is grian's obsession with fishing. It feels like he's trying so hard to be normal and have a slow start to the season to the point that he's overshot the goal and now does nothing but fish.
he's managed to become more cryptic than usual and i think is being claimed by the ocean, which yknow, good for him
when anything silly like this happens my brain instantly thinks of tma.
statement where a man physically cannot stop fishing
Statement of... Grian. That's it? No last name? Okay. Statement of Grian, regarding a speaking fishing rod and water that has eyes one can get lost in forever. Audio recording by [STATIC], Head Archivist of [REDACTED].
Statement begins.
——
There's something about fishing that I've always enjoyed. Maybe it was... the peace? I'd never really liked “peaceful” activities before, just didn't have the attention span for it. I'd always prefer going off to bother one of my friends about something, usually to procrastinate on the back of my builds. I'm a naturally social guy, but... somehow, fishing excited me. Isn't that wild? Out of everything one can do, I chose fishing.
Well. Chose is a strong word. Depends on your definition of ‘choice’. Sure, I wanted to go fishing to get some food– maybe fish up some supplies if I got lucky– but I never wanted to stay that long. Never thought...
I remember how, a few years back, I got myself involved with some strange... plants? Fungi? I'm no scientist. I got involved with mycelium. Let it do all sorts of funky things with my brain. It was a strange feeling, just drifting in the darkness while something else pretended to be me. And, let me tell you, it did a right poor job of pretending. I didn't mind, though. It got the job done. That's all I wanted, really. I was fine with whatever came with the deal, since I had made it myself and all. I chose to do something that may have been... that was... stupid.
Not with this, though. I don't even... I don't even know how it happened.
Now, I'm very familiar with getting sucked into a certain activity and losing track of time. I do that more often than not, I'm afraid. Usually with builds, sometimes with other things. This was not it. I knew– I could see the sky so clearly, saw the sun sinking below the horizon and the stars appear– time was passing. In fact, I felt even more aware of time than ever. But I didn't... care? I didn't want to care. It was so quiet. So peaceful. And the water was beautiful...
I'd cast my fishing line. I'd catch something. I'd reel it back in. And I kept doing that. Again, and again, and again, and it was so quiet. After a time, I wasn't even certain I could hear the splash of the bobber anymore. Couldn't even hear the sound of my own thoughts. I don't think I was thinking anyway, but... it's disorienting just to remember it.
At some point it started raining. I really hate rain, especially when it's cold and windy. But all I remember feeling was happiness, because rain meant more fishing. Better fishing. I couldn't hear the rain, either. Barely even noticed the fog all around me when the rain finally cleared up.
I remember... Scar came by, I think. He was looking for me. I was right there, standing by the lake, surrounded by that fog. And yet... despite how close he got, it was like he couldn't see me. Maybe the fog was too thick. But he mentioned the fishing rod, how it was standing on its own. The fishing rod that I was holding. That I had been holding. And I...
I was so afraid.
I came to on the lakeside, my lower half submerged in the water. I was thoroughly soaked– though grateful I hadn't drowned. The fog had cleared, and the fishing rod was gone. Maybe it wasn't ever there. Maybe this was all some sort of strange dream... but Scar keeps saying that he was searching for me, and all he found was fog.
I don't think I'll go fishing again. Not any time soon.
Statement of Gemini Tay, regarding a neighbor with a very intense hobby. Audio recording by [UNINTELLIGIBLE], Head Archivist of [REDACTED].
Statement begins.
——
Look. Okay. I like to fish. That's not weird. It's a good way to get loot and food and- I don't know, it's relaxing. I like it. I'd say I do it a normal amount.
But I have this neighbor. Grian. We go fishing together sometimes, and it was all totally normal for a while. Y'know, as fishing tends to be. We'd just sit by the water and chat. He went without me sometimes—which was fine, I didn't take offense or anything—and I always knew he was a little more... into it than I was. Like fishing was his only hobby or something. I didn't think much of it. Why would I? Everybody has one thing or another that they're really into.
Grian, though... he's, like, really into fishing.
His usual fishing spot is by my house. I live out on the water. The way the ship rocks at night is soothing, y'know, and... well, that's all besides the point. I can see Grian when he's out fishing. I don't watch him or anything weird, but he's within my view. Sometimes I'll join him if I spot him, and I was in the mood to fish the other day when I saw him out there. So I went to go grab my rod, and I haven't gotten completely organized yet with the new boat and everything, so it took me a while to find it. When I came back out, Grian was... off.
I don't know how to explain it. I'd been gone for maybe three minutes, which I know isn't that long, really, but he hadn't moved a muscle. And I mean one singular muscle. Nothing. He was perfectly still, and so was his fishing line. He had his feet dipped into the water, but it kept on flowing almost as if it was going through him. It was like he wasn't there, or maybe he was, just- he wasn't him.
I told myself I was overreacting. I probably was, people sit still all the time, especially when they're fishing, but then- well. I swear I'm not crazy, okay? I swear.
He had two fishing lines. One rod, two lines. And I know that doesn't sound spooky at all and only barely sounds even a little weird, but the second line... it appeared out of nowhere. Grian didn't even seem to notice. That's when it started raining—it's rained a lot lately, but he doesn't fish any less—and he definitely didn't notice that. He kept on sitting there, didn't blink, didn't wipe the raindrops off his glasses... nothing.
Looking back on it, though... I- I didn't really do anything, either. I was too invested, I guess. That doesn't feel like the right word. I couldn't look away. I had to know what was going on. I stayed out on my deck, just watching him.
And I know I said I didn't watch him earlier, and I usually don't. Really. This time was just weird. He was weird.
It only took another minute for the third fishing line to show up. The other two had been so still before, but they seemed bolder now. Because of the rain, maybe. Like whatever they'd been hiding from in their stillness was gone. They didn't bob in the water like normal fishing lines, they sort of... I swear they were trying to catch something. It wasn't- it wasn't like Grian was fishing, it was like the lines themselves were fishing. And then there was four of them, five, six... all digging through the water. Like they were looking for something. Grian still hadn't moved. I guess I hadn't, either.
The lines just kept coming. They got harder to see through all the fog and the rain and it got dark, but I knew they were still there. Growing. They covered the surface of the water until that was all there was. I could feel them hooking themselves onto the bottom of my boat, clawing their way along, making sure that whatever they were looking for wasn't there.
And then it was dawn. Out of nowhere, it was day again and the rain was gone, and so were the fishing lines. Grian was kicking his feet in the water and it rippled and after a minute, he got up. He packed up his rod and went home like nothing had happened. I don't know that he knew what had just happened. If anything did. Maybe it was in my head, or something. But... I swear it happened.
I checked on my boat afterward. Dove into the water and took a look at the outside of it. It's brand new, like I said, but the bottom was covered in these tiny little dents. Perfectly fish hook sized.
I don't know why I'm telling you this, really. Maybe I should just talk to Grian about it. Maybe I should pretend this all never happened and take my boat somewhere else.
Or maybe I should go fishing. Maybe that's the only thing that'll explain it.
