The Destiny City Reservoir opened about two years ago and is an easy escape from the big city. It's a five minute drive outside of the Eastern side of town and features clear water and sandy beaches--although, the sand here is notorious for squeaking when you step on it. It's a hot spot for all fun summer activities, but it's been in the news for mysterious reports of some strange, aquatic monster. Some accounts say they've spotted a twenty foot long, snake like creature capable of rearing a long neck high above the water. It's hard to tell if the videos are doctored, but there are too many rumors to dismiss easily. Something strange might be lurking deep in the water. Or it's just a hoax to get people out to the Reservoir!
But…Sometimes, people feel like something is grabbing their ankle, even if they are just wading in the shallow end. In the deeper parts of the water, it gets a little more intense: something has been said to grab onto ankles and pull. People have been warned about dangerous pranks, but so far no one has been caught. In the shallow end, anyone unfortunate enough to be targeted may feel themselves being knocked off their feet and tugged into the water; anyone in deep water may feel a firm grip on their ankle, tugging them lower and lower. Somehow, anyone it targets is freed--either by wriggling and fighting, or because someone intervenes and pulls the would-be victim up. No one has drowned in the lake. Yet. It's impossible to see who, or what, is doing this, but it usually gives up after one failed attempt. Usually.
While you may find yourself harassed by the supposed cryptid, or see something visibly odd in the distance, you cannot take any pictures of the creature. Who knows if you're even being attacked by the cryptid–or just another youma?
But…Sometimes, people feel like something is grabbing their ankle, even if they are just wading in the shallow end. In the deeper parts of the water, it gets a little more intense: something has been said to grab onto ankles and pull. People have been warned about dangerous pranks, but so far no one has been caught. In the shallow end, anyone unfortunate enough to be targeted may feel themselves being knocked off their feet and tugged into the water; anyone in deep water may feel a firm grip on their ankle, tugging them lower and lower. Somehow, anyone it targets is freed--either by wriggling and fighting, or because someone intervenes and pulls the would-be victim up. No one has drowned in the lake. Yet. It's impossible to see who, or what, is doing this, but it usually gives up after one failed attempt. Usually.
While you may find yourself harassed by the supposed cryptid, or see something visibly odd in the distance, you cannot take any pictures of the creature. Who knows if you're even being attacked by the cryptid–or just another youma?
The first rock thunk'd, slipping the surface and sinking with a thunk as Albite wandered the perimeter of gently lapping waters more carefully, half bent with his hands in the pebbles that ended up churned up by larger wakes, land rovers, people hauling jet skis. He hunted for something smoother, flatter, more uniform beneath his grip.
His dreads dragged, the scraping eerily sonorous, without the usual loudness of the crowds to ruin it. It was finally dark enough, cold enough, late enough that he didn't expect anyone else to be around while he took soothing pot shots at 'Nessy'. It'd become ritualistic at this point, to see which face the tentacled beast wore, if it was youma, or rare, magical phenom.
To try his luck at seeing to the depths with something like doberman level focus and pitbull level longing---
The way he stared into the next slide of tiny, ringed ripples that burbled up from his stones splash like it both owed him money and held the key to unlocking better memories from easier times.
The next throw held less grace, more anger ---
Another, multiple stones ---
And before he knew it he was stood at one of the jutting, concrete wharfs edges, stones gone, hands fisted. All quiet rage and overclocked energy waiting in stasis for a fight that wouldn't come.