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'Fishing' was a weird concept to Luke. If he really wanted to eat fish, he could certainly buy some for less effort than it took to catch one. Or if he wanted to train a hooked aquatic pokemon, it was more reliable to spend the money for a well-bred water-type than to leave it up to luck. But the fishing Emil spoke of didn't seem to be for the goal of sustenance nor training - it was some kind of recreational thing, apparently. And, well... if Luke wasn't battling his pokemon against one another or swinging his sword, he was usually napping or staring into space. The idea that he could learn something new to fill times of boredom was a promising one.

Luke mirrored Emil's movements, trying all the while to make it look like he knew exactly what he was doing and he only happened to repeat his companion's motions out of pure coincidence, not because he had no idea what this whole sport or whatever it was was supposed to entail. He crouched at the edge of the pier, staring into the clear water and taking in the now-familiar scent of the shore. Emil could not be faulted for his obliviousness of the sign's warning, for the redheaded boy was just as guilty. He pushed back up to his feet with a sound like an expectant "so" and waited for further prompts from the other boy. Not that he needed further prompts, of course.

Luke watched and listened at full attention. If there was one thing he'd gotten good at, it was leaning from example, and all the better if the example was actually explained in a way he could understand. He repeated the steps on his own line as they were described and demonstrated, still fumbling obliviously with the bait - it was gross - when Emil's hook went sailing over his head at a distance that whistled in his ears.

"Arceus--!" He ducked too late to avoid the unexpected projectile, so it was fortunate that the point missed him regardless. He blinked in passing astonishment only briefly before responding in a more coherent way, "Are you sure that's not some kind of weapon?!" He dismissed his aggravation, though not without a bit more grumbling, before returning his focus to the rod in his hands. He finished the preparations Emil had displayed and cast his line into the water. Something about the way it was done made him suspect that there were probably such things as good and bad casts, but Luke wouldn't know the difference anyway, so he dismissed the thought.

When Emil said that they would be waiting, Luke assumed maybe a couple of minutes. It was a form of recreation, after all; any longer than that would start to remove the point of it being a means of entertainment. So when five minutes had ticked by and the lure at the end of his line showed no signs of movement beyond its lazy bob, Luke was already starting to lose his fragile patience. "How long does this usually take?" he said. It seemed sort of unreliable to just sit there and wait. Couldn't they just yell or something to get the water-types' attention?

He sure didn't sound very convincing, especially with the way he phrased his advice into a question. It couldn't really be helped, though, Luke supposed. He watched as Emil drew in his line and cast it out again, deciding to do the same. One more try, he resolved. If nothing happened after one more try, for a total of four casts between the two of them, then clearly something was wrong with the water or the pokemon in it, and there was nothing to be done about that.

He reeled in the line for his second cast and was startled to find the bait missing from the hook. "What the hell?!" The turn of events triggered an unnecessary vehemence in his tone and posture, and he hurried to set a fresh piece of bait, "Don't screw around with me, you stupid fish!" The rig sank into the water with a heavy plonk. 'One more try' was right out the window. Luke wasn't going anywhere without teaching those sneaky bastards a lesson.

Emil might have been placid and patient, but Luke was very much not. He leaned forward with his brow stubbornly knit, glaring at the water as if challenging it. The exercise was in vain, however, and drew no prey to his bait. His companion, however, seemed to have a stroke of luck, and something seized his line. Luke's postured straightened in attention, and he stared wide-eyed at boy fighting against the thing on his hook. Like this, it really did look like a sport.

The noble pressed himself against the pier's railing, leaning into it to try and find what it was against which Emil struggled. "What is it?!" he said when it became evident that he would not spot the creature. He turned back to the blonde boy, wondering if maybe there was something he was supposed to be doing to help. His eyes wandered back to the water, like a child staring at the mailbox on a day when a package was expected to arrive. This whole 'fishing' thing wasn't nearly as boring as he thought, once something actually happened.

"Ah--" Luke caught the near-slip of Emil's hands on the rod, relieved when the thing did not jerk out of his grasp but anxious that it could very well do so at any moment. "Well don't let it go!" That obviously was not the other boy's intent, but Luke felt the need to say it nonetheless. He stared out into the dim water once more, then suddenly turned around yet again, his tone eager, "What should I do?"

"Emil!" Luke was at the railing too late to try and prevent the fall and was left staring once again into the dark ocean, green eyes wide. What the hell was he supposed to do now?! He couldn't just jump in after him; then both of them would be in trouble. He took only a moment longer to consider his options before pulling the white premier ball from his side and releasing Leste onto the pier. The Pidgeot was far from a water-type, but he had at least learned how to ride her properly, so she could bring them to the water's surface to search for the fallen boy more effectively. With a short series of commands, the pair circled somewhat clumsily over the area into which Emil had disappeared, the redheaded boy calling his friend's name intermittently and scanning for some sign of him.

Fishing was suddenly incredibly not cool.