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PostPosted: Mon Aug 21, 2017 10:52 am 

Joined: Sun Aug 13, 2017 4:30 am
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Depths of Chicago's sea

Within the shallows of the Atlantic Ocean, deep underwater a few kilometres out from Chicago, an urchin community dwelled. Or at least, a community perceived by the everyday sea dwellers as a harmonious niche but to other more insidious and sinister creatures, a place to inflict harm. Centuries ago, the water hues would've been as clear as crystal and as light as day. However, years of humanitarian pollution, oil spills and shipwrecks have rendered this oceanic area of the world somewhat murky. An air (or water) of gloom overshadowing its, once, unspoilt nature. Corroded remnants of abandoned ships used in construct by the anthropomorphic sea dwellers.

The place, known to all locals and visitors was known as Beversea Hills’ Reef.
Looking out the window of a perforated makeshift boat which had since been converted into a diner, agent Guppy sighed. A gold coloured gilled anthromorphic fish with human like hands but plain tail fins, he was doning a regular office shirt under a trenchcoat. His face overshadowed by an oversized hat.
He was at a loss since his last case had ended. Yes. It was a win. Through a filtered goldfish bowl. The repercussions continued, however, to haunt him. Like a diluted pollutant that never quite faded away.
Small thoughts would wash up the shore as he’d wonder what it was like to eat, breathe and swim like a regular fish. However, that wasn’t the course that was taken so he was always quick to relinquish and let those thoughts drown out to sea.
He drifted his attention, to one of the angel fish female waitresses. Expression still unchanged. Although the glance did not go unnoticed.

"Whale whale, why the lorng face?" A voice broke in, coming from a sharp toothed fish. His accent mimicking that of a New Yorker.
Someone Guppy was all too familiar with. He slowly turned around from where he was seated and looked at him in an unphased manner. Truth be told, he wasn’t happy he was here.

A creep who always seemed to be at this casual diner. One he felt would often randomly and unwelcomingly come and talk to people. Today, was Guppy’s turn.

"You look different," Guppy said without answering his question. Truth be told, sometimes his grinny fangs made him uncomfortable "have you been fishing for humans?" He joked. Except the serious and almost uneasy tone let the light humour of the question down. Half the point of that question was to confirm whether this fish was above him in the food chain or whether he was more ambitious than settling for mudskippers.

“Well I don’t get nick named Count. Pirahnnacula for nothing!!” the fish laughed, slapping guppy on the back really hard. Which wasn’t appreciated or well received from the gold fish.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” fanged fish asked.

“Excuse me?” Guppy asked, raising a brow ever so slightly.

“Caught you staring longingly. Come on… Don’t be Koi!”

“What is it you really want?” Guppy cut him off. His puns were becoming one too much.

“Well…” the fangy fish said softly, turning his head from side to side rapidly, sweeping the surroundings with his ravenous eyes. Guppy noting any hint of subtlety being shot to pieces. Which made his fresh face frown again.

“I heard from an insider you’re some sorta a super secret agent!” he exclaimed. Leaning in far too close for the fish’s comfort.
Guppy backed away somewhat, wiping the spit off his face. He took his hat off to make sure he could clean his whole visage. A fresh face despite the annoyance he was donning.

“Well, guess it’s not a ‘super’ secret anymore,” he retorted.

“Listen to me pal! This’or pay huge…”

“Really NOT interested in the money,” Guppy folded his arms.

“Oh oh a tree hugger… am I RIGHT?! Yeah yeah… I get it!” which earned a further frown from Guppy.

“This really might interest you, you know.” The gruff fish said “I mean it does like you give two fins about the ohcean hear.” He continued to explain “you’ll knohw as we speaks right now, there’s a massive oil spill over yonder…”

Guppy’s eyes followed the Pihranna like fish’s finger which pointed out the window.

“I don’t see anything… what… wait…” Guppy’s eyes etched slightly wider for the first time since the conversation had started. He scrutinized the horizon “doesn’t look like an ‘oil’ that’s spilling to me…” He was thinking out loud. Nonetheless, ‘Fangy’ smiled and took the opportunity to reply.

“Oh! So you do care?” he sniggered with gleaming fangs. Stepping back to stand right behind Guppy, he placed two hands on his shoulders to speak as his conscience “now now, who made yous an expert on pollution spills all of a sudden? Could it be that it made ya who ya are todays?”

The agent glanced over his shoulder at ’Fangy’.
His words irked him. Much more than him invading his personal space once again.
Guppy pulled away to stare back at ‘Fangy’ defiantly. Keeping eyes locked whilst placing his hat back on his head.

“Welp. Doncha look at me like that son. That oil aint gonna clean itself up.”

“Why do YOU even care so much?” Guppy demanded “all seems a bit suspicious, this. Are you working for…?”

“Oh, you’ll be knowin’ all that in all doo course.” The Pirhanna like fish grinned “now GO!”

Guppy gave the fanged fish one last defiant and challenging look, before reluctantly turning around with a snort.

He could feel the ‘worn out welcoming’ stranger smiling behind him.

Seemed he wouldn’t be retiring soon after all.

“Agent Guppy… Agent Guppy…” a muffled digitalised voice could be heard.
Guppy stopped in his tracks before his journey towards the murk that was floating from the surface of the sea and infiltrating the rest of dwelling towards is home town.
He turned towards his trench coat and brought out a walkie-talkie.

“Guppy here.” He said apathetically. His eyes still locked on the black and red murk in the far distance.

“Not very bright eyed and bushy tailed this evening, are we mister Guppy?” a British accent was heard over the rudimentary communicator.

“Well, I AM a fish…” Guppy sighed. He knew he used to have a better sense of humour but somehow time had made him harsh.

“Very well,” the agent on the other line replied “Guppy, I need you to investigate a ship above water. We suspect they are dumping some sort of pollutants into the ocean. Unconfirmed as to what it is. Not too far from your home town. Beversea Hills Reef…”

‘They really need to change the name. Not much of a tourist attraction anymore.’ Guppy’s eyes frowned to a tired and bothered look.

“Yeah I already got tipped off about that!” Guppy replied, making haste towards his destination “Hey! Did you guys take anymore recruits since my holiday started?”

“No. None to our knowledge Mr. Guppy.”

Guppy had no time to consider who the creep was back at the diner and why he had approached him and made him aware of some sort of sinister incident going on.

For now, he had to get within reach of the murk. Which no doubt, may have been linked to the boat above the water.


Guppy thus made his way towards his destination. The murky horizon ahead. Credit reluctantly due to the Pirhanna back there for tipping him off before his agency.
Something still didn't smell right in his mind. And it wasn't just the fact that that fangy chap wasn't very vigilant with flossing his teeth.

Guppy stopped swimming for a bit. Hidden amongst some deep rocks which almost served as a cliff top, he was able to gaze out into the distance and have better look at the murky mist ahead. By now his fishy eyes could make out more detail of its diluting path. Black and red slick slowly infiltrating the lower depths of his home town.
Sure enough, the source responsible was not far away either.
An oversized ship could be heard chugging the waves from high above. A daunting foghorn sounding intermittently to signal its approach.

Before he could swim any further, he suddenly felt a fin brush his shoulder.

"...what the?!" He yelped, swishing around to point a gun at the perpetrator.
What he saw, instead, however, was common cod fish that had sunk to the surface of the platform they were on. Eyes wide open and darting. On its side and rasping.

"Hey, are you alright?" Guppy asked, cautiously lowering his gun to observe the fish.
It was a sinking realisation after Guppy calmed down but what he noticed next was an ill appearance of the fish before him. He had a cluster of blisters on his gills. Inflamed and bulging. With white heads.
Around the rest of the fish's body was streaks of tarry substances.

"... Can't... Breathe..." The fish managed to gasp "I can't..."

"No, stay with me here!!" Guppy said, his first instinct to try and help the casualty but though twice about touching the contaminant riddling its gills.
As a result he stood there sheepishly with palms out.

"... You... Need to get out..." The fish was muttering "no one can survive this... Thing..."

Guppy knew the victim was on borrowed time now. Choking out bubbles with what sounded like lungs ripping.

He sighed deeply. Yet conversely his heart was racing.

His eyes widened somewhat with his mouth slightly ajar as heard a body hit the ground with a slap before his feet.

Another victim. Bloated, tumourous and covered in blisters. Choking and gasping.

"...can't... can't breathe..." the fish's tongue lolled out. Practically paralysed.

The gold fish gritted his teeth as heard the fish's dying words.

Guppy's fishy body was suddenly cast in shadows as he looked up to see a rain of fish sinking towards where he was.
Floating down against their will like a pummel of rain.
He had to get out or he'd find himself to one fate or the other.
Battered by a pile of dead bodies.

Or contaminated with the pollutant which would have him meet the same fat as the school of fish.

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PostPosted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 7:23 pm 

Joined: Sun Dec 29, 2013 5:43 pm
Posts: 38
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Beversea Hills, close to the slick in progress:

Moving swiftly with the prevailing current, a contender for possibly the oddest fish in the sea was speeding towards the Beversea Hills District, and the ship in the process of spilling an as-yet unidentified pollutant into the waters there. The anonymous tip hadn't been a red herring, as she'd feared- a spill was in progress... accidental or deliberate it was difficult to say, but since the ship was stuill chugging along, the crew apparently unconcerned about the substance spilling by the gallons into the ocean suggested the latter. The possible damage a spill like that could do... even to waters already as murky as Beversea Hills... it was enough to make a person green around the gills. Were there no depths people wouldn't sink to? When would they realise it wasn't all just a drop in the ocean?

She shook her head to clear it of that line of thought. Pondering the ills people could do to one another could wait, right now she had to investigae what damage had already been done... her eyes widened slightly as she observed a dense rain of fish falling towards the ocean bed- school might be out, but class was in session! She needed to see just what effect the spill had had upon the unfortunates plummeting to the bottom of the sea. With a flick of her fins she swam closer, skirting the edge of the slick as she made her way down, in time to note a peculiarity: Amongst the mounting pile of poisoned poisson, a single golden-coloured fish floated, evidently in distress, but just as evidently not a regular civilian. He had a purposeful way of moving and a jaded look in his eyes that made her believe that, if he didn't know what was going on, he was looking into it...getting to grips with the scale of the problem. It might be a good idea to begin her enquiries by finding out a little more about him? Drifting gradually towards him, she lightly tapped his shoulder before addressing him.

"Pardon me if I'm interrupting," she said politely, "but you seem a little out of your depth here. I was wondering, have you any idea what the substance causing this is? And," she added, as she looked around to take in the scene, "if there's anything we can do about it? This seems almost like a deliberate act, but I don't want to rise to that bait without being able to back the accusation up".

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