#01 — rowan landvik.

[charliejackson]

"Wow," he chuckled, "you really took that piece of string and ran with it." As much as he tried to shield his amusement it proved to be completely impossible. Somehow with everything going wrong previously, the sarcasm between the two of them was on point. "But hey," his large shoulders curled up into a shrug, "you're happy with just anything then I think that speaks for itself." The quip took his dark eyes to glance at the blonde once again and he realized something positive had come out of an unfortunate situation. Her company wasn't half bad. "Just because it wasn't successful with you doesn't mean I'm doomed. Maybe you're the problem..."

Briefly he wanted to ask if they were on another date. Women liked to bring up the children question, be sure that their interest was viable and that there was something promising ahead in it. Instead, Charlie only had more dry humor. "Heard from experience, huh? As in you have a secret kid somewhere?" Charlie wasn't surprised and he shook his head to convey that much. "We all know someone that has a kid. I'm not sure that qualifies as experience." It was easily shrugged off and moved on from. He didn't like to broach the subject of how the future he'd once wanted seemed nowhere to be found. At the water's edge life was simple. With his line cast in and his lure doing it's work, Charlie glanced at Rowan once more. "You don't think they feel pain? I'm sure they do, it's all part of the process and sacrifice." He was about to tease about how he hardly used live bait and that she was a sociopath but he felt something hit his line.

"Okay, offended that you just called my taste in coffee shit, first of all," Skipper pointed out with the hand that was holding her coffee loosely against her chest, as though she were any bit of offended (she wasn't, but he didn't have to know that). "With that attitude, you might have a successful date in... oh let's say three decades? And that's probably just me being generous, because y'know, can't teach an old dog, right?" Her lips quirked in a semi-smile, the first sign she'd allowed him that she, not only liked their mornings spent fishing together, but actually enjoyed them.

Her brow raised with just the slightest tic, wondering if there was a reason the world would be grateful if he didn't have kids. Frankly, she shouldn't have been reproducing either, but fate had other things in mind when it came to that and thankfully, August was nothing like her and everything like the man who raised him. "Heard from experience... if that makes sense. I, uh, know someone who has a kid. I'm not really mom material myself, if that even surprises you.'' Settling next to Charlie, she set her coffee down on the dock and popped open her container of worms, eager to scoop one up in her hand before putting it on her hook and easily casting it into the water to never be seen again. "You think worms know what's going on? Or are they just a bunch of mush with no brain inside?"

@charliejackson

[charliejackson]

A quip nearly launched off his tongue in the vein of her just accepting whatever she got, thankfully Charlie was able to bite the comment down rather let it gain an ear. One that likely wouldn't be happy to hear such feedback. They didn't know each other well enough, nor had they the comfort to joke and tease on that level. He supposed that's what these fishing trips were to accomplish. Finding common ground after such an awkward date together. "You may be perfectly fine drinking shit coffee but I am not," he returned, shooting her a look right back. "It's an important staple of the day and here we are already starting off on the wrong foot." Now a bit of a teasing tone came along with the words even if they gave Charlie pause to think. Should it be this hard? Maybe he was overthinking things and now it became all about trying rather than them simply be natural with each other.

As they headed out to the water Charlie began prepping as they moved. Making sure his lures, line, bait, etc were within reach. As soon as they'd reach the sore his line wouldn't waste much time before hitting the water. "Who you calling an old dog?" A smirk was present and Charlie was fully at ease then. Fishing was his happy place, his zen, where everything made sense. "If the world is lucky I'll never have 'em either," he shrugged as he wade quick work of tying a lure onto his line. It wasn't that he didn't like kids, sometimes in the past he'd been positive that if he'd met the right person he'd be eager to have them, but he was getting older and life was full of knocks rather than blessings. "Is that what you've heard or something you know from experience?" He couldn't remember if she'd mentioned kids or not. The date had gone off the rails and he wasn't sure they'd done much in the way of getting to know each other.

"Your guess is as good as mine," She offered a shrug, not having bothered to ask just how the café had come to run out of what was likely their most popular additive. His curiosity was well-placed, though. What kind of café did run out of creamer? Maybe Skipper just had questionable choices in cafes, but it was usually better to find one off the beaten path then end up fighting with dozens of morning tourists at some hip, overpriced joint that just popped up. "Oh, c'mon, you're being dramatic." She couldn't fight off the eye roll that happened at his reaction to the bitterness of the coffee, as though it were any worse than a short of whiskey neat. Part of her wanted to tease him a little more, after all, that's what someone does with a friend, right? But after the mishap after mishap during their attempt at a date, Skipper knew he had plenty in his arsenal to tease her over too and wasn't far enough into her morning coffee to take that.

Instead, the blonde opted to hold her worms and pole tight and follow Charlie out toward the water where they'd spend the majority of the morning trying to catch something (him being far more successful than her usually). "Can't teach an old dog new tricks, right?" She was always an early riser, it came with ease after years of being on active duty, but what was always up in the air was when her body decided to rest at night. Sometimes she'd get lucky with an early night and others would keep her up tossing and turning. "At least you don't have kids, I've heard those guys never sleep."

@charliejackson

[charliejackson]

Often times Charlie found that most things could be salvaged. A date with the blonde may not have gone right but a left turn into something else, something like friendship seemed more feasible. At least in his experience fishing brought out connectivity. Connecting with nature and usually being under the sun seemed to do wonders, plus it was a quiet activity. There was never a worry about having to maintain a conversation, and random chit chat was actually the norm. Hell, sometimes he even found that people tended to open up. Fishing was like Vegas, what happened out there stayed out there.

"Ah, thanks," he commented, taking the offered coffee. The bitterness she mentioned moments later was smelt as Charlie brought the hot drink to his lips. Which, had him refraining from a sip of the caffeine and jump start to the dawn on the way. He actually wasn't the biggest fan of black coffee but he didn't like it sweet either. Just some milk or plain creamer to ease the bite. "How does a cafe run out of something like creamer?" While his eyes were narrowed the look was friendly and playful. A tease more than anything. Charlie took the plunge and had a swallow and winced momentarily as he would if it were a spot of whiskey.

A smile tugged on his lips as he watched Skipper nab a can of worms. Classic. Old school. And even though he wouldn't say it, no one knew he was thinking it — basic. It still worked much of the time and he would always teach it as grounds for starting out with children, but it was rare that it would have the success his lures and bait would draw. That was why he was the professional, the sportsman, he supposed. "You ready?" He took another sip. It wasn't that he didn't know what to say or didn't have conversation he could conjure up with Skipper, Charlie was just ready to get to the water more than anything. "You know," he began as he turned and led the way out, "I never think to hit the bed earlier when I know I have an early morning. You think in my old age I'd learn by now."

location: jimmy's supplies; bait and tackle.

closed starter for @charliejackson

Being awake before the sun wasn't ever out of the ordinary for Skipper, but between her recent run in with the past and the pressure of trying to form a bond with a kid who clearly was doing just fine without her, she'd managed to crawl out of bed before the sun even started thinking about rising and made it to the tackle shop a little before she'd agreed to meet Charlie there, two coffees in hand for their early seaside adventure that weekend. "Gotta love Jimmy's trust in humanity," the blonde commented as the man she was meeting grew near, immediately handing off the coffee she'd meant to offer him before digging into the pocket of her shorts and pulling out a wrinkled five-dollar-bill, shoving into the rusty cash box the bait and tackle supplier set out before opening the cooler below and grabbing a container of semi-fresh worms. They weren't perfect and she had cooler tackle in the box in the back of her old Bronco, but these would do just fine. The memory of their date, though she wasn't even sure if it could be called that, painted with the awkwardness they'd fumbled through before calling it, was enough to keep her words at a minimum. Regardless of what happened in their recent past, the man made for pretty good company and was a half-decent fisherman, so she kept him around. "The cafe was out of creamer, hope you like it bitter."