Chapter Text
"You could say– I’m hooked." Grace grins gleefully at his faceless audience, the alien fishing rod held pointedly in the air. He steadfastly ignores the low groaning of Adrian on the beach and continues to grin and stare straight at Rocky.
"Is no hook." Rocky points at the fishing rod which, to his credit, does not have a hook.
It does not have a hook because Rocky did not make a hook. At the end of the thinly woven metal fishing line there are two halves of a clear xenonite sphere (dodecahedron if we’re being pedantic, and both Grace and Rocky are) around the size of a basketball. Between these halves is a rough brown lure that looks a bit like a crumpled up piece of paper and inside this is a tiny motor and speaker that twitches and squeaks out an A flat in the water. The lure also smells absolutely vile. While Eridians themselves have virtually no sense of smell (barring the few spare moments when they open their ventral seam to eat) it seems that ocean dwelling creatures do. And unfortunately the scent that appeals to these creatures, the pheromones of a sponge-like creature that Adrian soaked said lure in for a few days, absolutely does not appeal to Grace.
"You bad at fishing, question?" Grace stares at his unappreciative audience over the smelly, twitching, shrieking lure and heaves out a big sigh. He pushes his fishing rod towards Rocky, who holds it alongside his own, and falls back onto the boat with a dramatic flourish. A dramatic flourish that happens to knock his head onto the side of the boat.
"Fudging– ow." Rocky titters unsympathetically. However the titters quickly turn into shrieks as Grace rocks forward onto his knees, shaking the boat in the process.
"Sinking! Sinking! Not man and children first! Rocky stay on door, Grace drown!"
"It’s ‘women and children first’, Rock." Grace mutters rubbing his head, making sure to add an extra wiggle into his hips as he shuffles back onto his seat.
Rocky hisses like an angry kettle.
"No women on Erid." He stomps three limbs angrily while the other two clutch onto the sides of the boat, both fishing rods hastily neglected. "Just one man and is Grace and he leaves boat last."
Grace squints his eyes and then pointedly turns away from Rocky. He points at an empty pane of xenonite on the other side of the biodome. "Is that a bird?"
"...what, question? Grace have brain damage, question? No birds on Erid you–" Rocky’s incredulity shifts into a shriek as Grace stumbles to his feet rocking the boat in the process.
"It could be a plane, true." Grace tilts his head at the xenonite, stroking his chin in a show of contemplation. Grace tsks."But," he takes a step towards the side of the boat and the shrieks increase, Grace raises a hand to shade his eyes and leans over the side of the boat as the water sloshes against it. "I have the feeling that it might just be, hear me out, Superma– whoa!"
Rocky yanks Grace onto the floor of the boat. He uses a couple feet to brace Grace, preventing him from impacting the ground and gently laying him down, before grouchily climbing on top of him.
"Idiot idiot. Not funny. Stupid Grace. Stupid stupid stupid."
"Hey! What have you got against my buddy Clark over the– phleg." Grace spits out one of Rocky’s claws with a grimace, sticking his tongue out in distaste. "Don’t put your claw in there! I don’t know where you’ve been."
"Shut up." Rocky frantically shakes his claw. "Gross gross gross. Grace stupid and gross."
"You’re gross." Grace shuffles irritably on the floor of the boat under an alien that is 1: too heavy and strong to move and 2: too concerned about breaking brittle human bones to exert any true force.
"No. You gross." Rocky hastily dances his legs over Grace, attempting to bracket him in while avoiding stepping on the misbehaving human rolling back and forth below him.
"Mmm, no." Grace reaches his arms above his head and manages to get them on top of Rocky’s carapace and he pulls himself out from under the alien. "You’re gross."
Rocky barrels forward into Grace, pressing him against the side of the rowboat. "No no no Grace is the one who is–"
Both freeze as the boat tilts dangerously to the side. Rocky quickly scrambles to the other side.
Despite narrowly avoiding capsizing, both Grace and Rocky still sink, just to the bottom of the boat, as what sounds like a fog horn blares from the nearby beach.
"Both stupid stupid stupid stupid," Adrian yells from the beach, pacing an anxious line back and forth on the shore, "Ryland and Rocky want to drown, question?"
The two chastised saviours of Earth and Erid stay pressed to the bottom of the boat.
"Rhetorical question, clarification," Adrian huffs, "in case Rocky and Ryland no understand like they no understand common sense of no wrestle in boat."
Grace’s guilty expression peeks over the side of the boat besides one of Rocky’s hands which apologetically tap tap taps a claw in Adrian’s direction.
"Sorry, Adrian."
"Sorry sorry."
Adrian stops pacing and stomps one of their legs, which burrows deeply into the sand. "This is why boat not allowed while waves on. Rocky and Ryland enough trouble on calm water."
"We’ll try not to be rowdy and tip the boat over, I promise."
"Rocky also promises to keep Grace from tipping the boat over."
A disapproving warble echoes from the beach.
"...Rocky will also try not to tip over the boat."
"Good." Adrian nervously runs a claw up and down one of their legs. "Both okay, question?"
"We’re okay, Adrian."
"Yes yes yes all good."
Adrian’s stance relaxes and they bob their carapace back at them. "Good good good."
Grace and Rocky awkwardly resettle on their seats on the boat. Rocky passes Grace his fishing rod.
They sit for a few moments in silence.
"...Adrian say out of Grace’s tiny tiny hearing range that it is Grace who is gross."
Adrian lets out a noise like an offended kazoo. "Adrian did NOT say."
"Uh huh, sure, Rocky." Grace drawls, sparing a glance (and smothering a smile) at Adrian stomping around self-righteously on the beach. Their offense overpowering their leftover nerves. "That’s a bit rude for me to believe it’s coming from Adrian."
"Is not rude if is true." Rocky raises two arms and shrugs his rocky shoulders, the guy has seen too many movies. "And both Rocky and Adrian agree so ‘Grace is gross’ is true true true."
"No no," Adrian skitters towards the boat. When they step in the water they scramble backwards frantically shaking it off their claws. "Not true not true Adrian no say that."
"Adrian also say that Grace beard sound ugly." Grace slowly puts down the hand that was idly scratching at his chin.
"No," Adrian cries, "facial hair sound fuzzy soft nice not ugly. Rocky mean mean lie lie."
"Me?" Rocky asks, hand pressed to his carapace like a femme fatale when the detective arrives before the life insurance check does (he has been watching way too many movies). "Rocky is just telling truth! Telling Grace what Adrian really think when Adrian is not being polite."
"Rocky," Grace warns as he glances at Adrian angrily chittering on the beach, "When they literally bury you in the sand I’m not gonna help you."
"Grace no can help anyways." Rocky flaps his claws at Grace dismissively. "And Rocky not getting buried in sand."
"Oh yeah? And why’s that bud? You gonna out wrestle your mate for once?"
"No. No wrestle on boat." Rocky projects pointedly in Adrian’s direction.
Adrian freezes on the beach.
"And," Rocky continues, "Adrian can not do anything from on beach while Rocky is–"
Rocky freezes, tilting his carapace and clicking curiously as small quick splashes approach the boat.
Ting!
Grace flinches back as Rocky shrieks. He blinks in surprise and looks down to see a smooth stone sitting on the bottom of the boat. He raises his head to see Adrian standing on the shore with an arm sticking straight out towards the boat. Grace grins.
"Good shot!" He calls out, snickering as Adrian responds with a couple bows.
"Rocky is the victim of unwarranted attack!" Rocky waves three arms around in the air. "Brutalized without cause by cruel cruel Adrian who throws stones at their perfect lovely kind mate."
"Did not throw. Skipped."
"They have a point, Rock." Grace nods.
Rocky lowers his arms. "Rocky has been betrayed on all fronts."
He taps at the panel Adrian knocked into and whines. "Vibrates weird now. Sound annoying. If Adrian so good at skipping stones then why could Adrian have not aimed for silly flotation ovals."
Grace looks down at said flotation ovals. Rocky has a foam water wing on each of his five limbs and two overlapping tubes angled around his carapace. He looks ridiculous. Although Grace is not much better, he’s wearing the bulkiest life jacket he’s ever seen and he had to argue with Adrian to not have a life preserver wrapped around his hips for the entire boat trip.
"Floatation ovals stay on, statement." Adrian says.
"I think you look cute, Rock." Grace grins.
"Grace think wrong again,” Rocky rumbles, “why Grace not have floatation ovals on all limbs, question? Unfair unfair unfair."
“Hey, I’ve got these two!” Grace flaps his arms showing off his own water wings. “We’re water wing buddies.”
“Grace not water wing buddy. Only two.” Rocky points grouchily. “Water wing slacker.”
“Wh- I am not a water wing slacker,” Grace sputters, “I’m only wearing these out of solidarity for you in the first place! Unlike you I don’t need water wings to not sink! Heck, I don’t even really need this.” Grace smacks his hand against the thick foam life vest encasing his entire torso. “I could–”
“Ryland need, statement.” Adrian chimes in from the beach.
Grace stops mid-rant with a sigh and turns to Adrian with a weary expression.
“Adrian.”
“Ryland.”
“While I won’t dispute the safety of a life vest, humans are naturally buoyant and float so I don’t really need–”
“Humans always float with breathing holes not in water, question?”
“Well no but I’m a strong swimmer so–”
“Humans never get tired from swimming, question?” Adrian cuts Grace off.
“Humans tired easily,” Rocky adds helpfully.
“Okay, that may be true but–”
“Human face never down in water because Ryland busy looking in water, question?”
“...”
“Water wings stay on. Order.” Adrian finishes.
“...Adrian read human drowning statistics while Rocky made boat.”
“Bad bad bad.”
“Bad bad bad.” Grace echoes with resignation.
“Quick, quick!” Grace leans his side against Rocky, expectantly peering into the water. “You have to reel it in before it gets away! You should–”
“Grace should not be saying should. How many fish has Grace caught, question?” Rocky continues without a response, “Zero. Grace has caught zero fish. Grace should not give fishing advice when Grace has caught no fish.”
Grace huffs. He furrows his brow as he hears a grumbling noise below where Rocky’s fishing line disappears into the deep blue water. “Um. Is the rod supposed to be making that noise? Is it, like, breaking out of the trapping mechanism?”
Rocky stops reeling and slowly tilts his carapace up at Grace, clicking at him irritably. “Is not breaking out.” The grumbling continues underwater at a constant volume. “Rocky made rod perfectly. Fish cannot escape from rod.”
“Besides,” Rocky adds, going back to reeling, “noise is not from rod.”
“What?” Ryland squint incredulously. “If it’s not the rod then what’s making– holy smokes!”
Grace rears backs, blinking in disbelief at the dodecahedron at the end of Rocky’s fishing rod. The two halves of the xenonite shell have snapped together with a spongy rubber lining seal to act like a miniature aquarium. Inside is a small alien fish. A small alien fish that is currently screaming.
“Oh fudge.” Grace stares slackjawed at the creature. Its carapace is a deep purple and it looks almost shrimp-like with its small curved body and tiny caudal fin. Much like everything he’s seen on Erid so far it lacks a face and it also seems to not have any legs. But what it does have, that is decidedly not shrimp-like, is a dozen or so translucent cilia, spongy thin hair-like protrusions from the carapace, scattered all over its body which stand out erect.
Grace notices when the shrieking stops not only do the small spiracle pores laterally lining the carapace close, but the cilia untense and drift loosely around the creature. It shifts slightly in the water before the cilia retense and the shrieking starts again.
“Rocky is master angler,” Rocky preens, “Grace can applaud now.”
Grace claps his hands mindlessly, attention still locked on the creature.
“It’s horrifying,” Grace crows with delight, tilting his head to see the creature from different angles.
“Adrian researched for months to find suitable fish for Grace and selectively bred this species for 27 generations to make suitable for Grace environment.” Rocky states with pride for his mate who shifts in embarrassment on the shore. “Adrian smart smart smart.”
“Was not that hard.” Adrian’s humble murmur barely reaches Grace’s ear.
“You did amazing, Adrian,” Grace gushes, “This is so cool. Thank you so much.”
“No humble,” Rocky demands, “Adrian amazing amazing amazing.”
Adrian waves a hand coyly and shuffles their shoulders giddily at the praise.
“...did take some time to find fish that would be okay in lower pressure atmosphere environment.” They admit.
“I bet! We have some deep sea fish on Earth that can’t handle atmospheric pressure above the ocean.” Grace frowns thinking about the poor blobfish. “That was great foresight Adrian.”
Adrian coos wiggling happily.
“Was it hard to find fish that were adequate for other parts of my environment? Beyond the atmospheric pressure.” Grace asks.
“Oxygenated atmosphere was not too difficult,” Adrian replies, “since many aquatic species do not directly interact with the ammonia in the atmosphere and already live in an oxygenated liquid environment by nature of being aquatic.
“However,” Adrian continues, “most still struggle to survive in full oxygen which is why Rocky created the containment pods to keep creatures safe during fishing activity.” Rocky obligingly holds up the containment pod at the end of his rod, humming encouragingly at Adrian.
“Interesting! I would have assumed oxygen would’ve been a much larger hurdle. But,” Grace’s exuberance shifts to a mild grimace, “I suppose hydrogen and oxygen can prove useful at least occasionally.”
Rocky pats Grace on the shoulder, even across the universe his thesis still haunts him like a particularly foul odour.
“Anyways,” Grace snaps out of his most recent bout of self-pity, “was temperature much of a hurdle? I know Erid’s oceans are much hotter than Earth’s.”
“Yes yes, good question. Was difficult to find fish capable of living in low atmosphere conditions and at low low temperature.” Adrian idly taps their fingers. “Most selective breeding done to make creatures more adaptable to lower temperatures.”
“Amazing,” Grace mutters, gaze captured once more by what he’s mentally dubbing the Shrieking Shrimp. “This is just- so cool Adrian. I really can’t thank you enough.”
“Glad Ryland is happy.” Adrian sways gleefully in place.
“Adrian bred four different species of creatures for Grace.” Rocky chimes in.
“Four?!” Grace sputters, “Adrian that’s far too generous, you really didn’t need to dedicate all this time and effort for me.”
“Worth it worth it.” Adrian shoots back. “Make Ryland happy and interesting experiment for Adrian.”
“Rocky surprised Adrian work with sea creatures at all.” Rocky admits slyly. “Suprised surprised.”
“Small creatures okay.” Adrian stresses. “And worth it for Ryland.”
“Worth it for Grace.” Rocky bobs in agreement.
Grace lets out a wet laugh, wiping subtly at his eyes. “You guys are way too good for me.” He waves away the protective disgruntled orchestra that line encourages. “I know, I know. I’m getting better at cutting back on the self-deprecating stuff.
“But,” he stresses, “that doesn’t change the fact that you are both so good. So so so so so good. So, so there.” Grace finished lamely, clearing his throat and adamantly ignoring the soft coos from both his companions and the burning of his cheeks.
After a minute, Adrian kindly throws him a bone.
“...Ryland want to know fun fact, question?”
“Yes.”
“On Erid there is no single evolutionary ancestor for all ‘fish’, is just colloquial term used for convenience.”
“No way!” Grace crows, “That’s the same with fish on Earth!”
“Really question?!” Adrian clicks excitedly, “Ryland is not pulling on Adrian’s legs, question?”
“No no, it’s true I swear–” Grace happily rambles back.
Rocky settles into his seat and brings the containment pod closer, tapping on it inquisitively to both get a better view of the creature held within and test the integrity of his invention (he knows his work was perfect but it never hurts to get confirmation of that fact). His nerds will keep each other occupied with excited rambles about biology for a while.
“Almost got it–”
“Grace making life difficult for himself intentionally, question?” Rocky lets out a loud musical sigh, “Why Grace insist on using rod, question?”
“We’re fishing! I want to use the rod.”
“Can also fish with net, statement.” Rocky points a claw at the handheld xenonite net (which to be entirely honest is more of an elegant welding of a rounded xenonite bucket to a long net handle) lying in the boat. “Creature is floating on surface. Catch with rod is stupid stupid stupid.”
“Shhh if you don’t shut up it’ll go away.” Grace replies, ignoring Rocky’s low mutters that it ‘hasn’t moved in the last ten minutes, statement’. His eyes remained locked on the creature floating serenely on the surface of the water as he dangles the, fully reeled in, over-engineered rod above it.
Fifth time’s the charm. Grace slowly lowers the open containment pod onto the creature. When the bait touches it the rod vibrates and he flicks a finger against a switch on the rod. He laughs in delight as the containment pod closes around the creature.
He holds his catch up in the air with pride.
“Wow,” Rocky holds the note for a full four seconds, “Grace has caught creature that has not moved for past ten minutes. Amaze. How did Grace do it, question? Grace have PhD in catching sedentary fish, question? Took seminar, question?”
“Thanks for the support, Rock.” Grace grins down at his catch. “I’m sure we can find you a seminar for catching fish too.”
Rocky stops sarcastically doing jazz hands to stiffen his legs with offense. “Rocky no need seminar, statement. Rocky–”
“Look at this,” Grace points excitedly at the brown creature, it has comparatively soft skin for an Erid creature that is almost armadillo-esque, “it looks like a starfish but it has four limbs! So it’s- hm.”
He tilts his head in consideration. “A square fish? No a quadruple fish? Quatorze fish? No wait, that's fourteen,” Grace gasps in delight, “oh my god it’s a “quat” fish.” He snickers to himself.
“...glad Grace can entertain himself, statement.”
“Anyways, it has bilateral symmetry! I haven’t seen that in awhile. Y’know,” Grace ponders, “I wonder if there is any evolutionary advantage for bilateral symmetry on a planet that seems to–”
The quat-fish suddenly tenses, bending all four of its limbs onto the top of its body and flipping over. Grace freezes as he stares at the newly revealed undulating circular orifice full of teeth. He is suddenly reminded of an antlion’s trap and the Sarlacc in Return of the Jedi.
“That’s a lot of teeth...” Grace peers warily across the surrounding water, eyeing a familiar brown shape floating on the surface a few meters away.
“How- uhhhh- how many of these are in the water?”
“47.” Adrian promptly replies
“HM.”
“Why Grace squeaky, question?”
Grace doesn’t answer Rocky’s rude query. His eyes are locked on the spiral of pinpricks in the quat-fish’s mouth. Why couldn’t it have had the stupid gummy grin of Earth’s catfish? Grace thought. Even if catfish did have teeth at least their silly moustache lessened any sense of dread you had staring into their mouths.
“Ryland no need to worry about quat-fish,” Adrian soothes, “is herbivorous creature. No want eat Ryland, only seagrass.”
“Grace know human epidermis thinner than many varieties of seagrass, fun fact!” Rocky chimes in before Grace has time to sigh in relief.
Grace stares at Rocky in abject betrayal.
“Is only issue if Ryland pokes mouth with digit on extremity,” Adrian huffs, “teeth can only masticate if further in.”
Grace stares at the undulating mouth that can only masticate if something is pushed further in. He feels his digits on all his extremities simultaneously clench.
“I don’t think I’ll be swimming for awhile.”
“Oh no.” Grace shoots an unimpressed look at Adrian, the most anxious, attentive, and physically distant life guard he’s ever known, for that ingenuine response.
“If Grace want to swim again will need to get much better at fishing.” Rocky makes a note of tapping to better perceive Grace’s empty fishing bucket. “Do not think Grace will go swim anytime soon. Unlikely.”
Rocky titters and steps out of the way of the quat-fish ball Grace swings at his carapace.
“We’re never gonna catch fish if you don’t stop talking.”
“Rocky not problem. Grace not blame Rocky for Grace’s inability to fish. Grace need shut up.”
“You shut up.”
“No. You shut up.”
“If you just shut up I wouldn’t need to keep telling you to shut up.” Grace grinds his chin into the top of Rocky’s carapace to make a point.
Rocky sits perched in between Grace’s bent knees on the floor of the boat as Grace curls his body around Rocky. They fish, quite literally, on top of each other as they continue bickering.
“Eridian fish have good good hearing,” Rocky clicks back, “can hear that Grace not shut up and all other gross human body noises from 9 kilometers away.”
Before Grace can defend himself a growl erupts from his stomach. Rocky extends two arms in vindication. “Grace gross body proves Rocky point.”
Directly across from them on the shore Adrian trills a note to catch their attention. Grace tilts his head up to see them, his body still draped on top of Rocky and their many floatation devices. “Adrian put human snack in Ryland life jacket pocket.”
Grace quickly checks his pocket and lets out a gasp of delight, ignoring Rocky’s displeased warblings.
“Disgust disgust, Adrian enabler, disgust.”
“Thank you, Adrian!” Grace grins at Adrian who happily coos and returns a gleeful thumbs down.
As Grace munches on his snack Rocky continues to make exaggerated shivering and grunting noises of disgust. Grace feels Rocky still within his arms and tilt his carapace towards the beach.
He can’t hear Rocky clicking towards Adrian but he can feel the vibrations through the xenonite suit and the hairs on the back of his neck raise in a way he associates with Eridians gossiping outside of the human hearing range. Then Rocky stiffens and straightens up from his sitting position, lifting Grace up slightly with his offense.
“Rock is not being dramatic!” He shrieks in Adrian’s direction.
Grace doesn’t bother to stifle his snort. He slowly shakes his head at Adrian in fond exasperation, grinning as they slowly shake their carapace back in return.
“No no no,” Rocky says, alternating between clicking in Grace’s and Adrian’s directions, “bonding commiserating over Rocky is not allowed! Stop stop mean rude traitors. Betrayers of Rocky who has not done a single thing wrong in his whole life." He bemoans
“Fine fine if you’re gonna be like that we’ll stop.” Grace allows himself a pause for dramatic effect. “We’ll just gossip about you when we meet for our next book club.”
“Yes yes,” Adrian confirms as they both ignore Rocky’s sharp offended shriek, “we follow up on adventures of anxious robot who murders and gossip about stupid things Rocky has done recently."
"DIVORCE! ROCKY DIVORCE BOTH! IRREVOCABLE DIFFERENCE THAT ADRIAN GRACE ARE CRAGGLY MEAN VENTRAL HOLES! DIVORCE ADRAIN DIVORCE GRACE."
"We’re not married bud, you can’t divorce me." Grace reminds Rocky, clinging onto his shaking form.
"WILL MARRY JUST TO DIVORCE!"
A few beats of silence follow, interspaced with amused Adrian noises. Grace feels his fishing rod vibrate within his hands and can’t find it within himself to care about it right now.
"OR IF PROCEEDINGS TAKE TOO LONG ROCKY WILL DISOWN GRACE.” Rocky rushes to add when Grace opens his mouth. “LEAVE GRACE AT SHELTER WITH OTHER LEAKY RUDE HUMANS."
"Wh- hey!" Grace sputters.
"Adrian will adopt Grace from shelter. Hug Grace lots and feed him many sucrose pellets with citric acid powder."
"Aww thanks Adrian, this is why you’re my favourite."
"...Rocky not talking to either of you anymore."
"...wanna bet he doesn’t last two minu- OW! Don’t pinch me you little jerk!"
"Grace stop being prude, just call Rocky a bastard"
"Wh- I will- ROCKY!"
Grace and Rocky, once again, sit on the floor of the boat. Their fishing rods lie abandoned in the boat once more as they both pout and sulk with their backs pressed together and their arms crossed.
They both turn towards a soft tapping noise. Watching as a stone skips across the water of the biodome, bounces off the xenonite wall of the biodome, and skips back across the water to land back in Adrian’s claw on the shore.
It is at this moment that they both independently decide to interrupt Adrian’s moment of peace.
"Adrian, why don’t you come on the boat instead,” Grace calls out, “I’m sure you’d be a much calmer and good natured fishing buddy than someone."
"Adrian join Rocky on boat! Much more competent buddy than Grace." Rocky yells.
"Adrian join neither on boat. Adrian stay on shore where is safe. Not go near," they stop to do a disgusted vaguely horrified hand flap "ocean."
"But Adrian,” Rocky calls in a teasing lilt, “ isn’t ocean the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard."
"...Adrian is ignoring you"
"Wait,” Grace stops thinking of how to tempt his large teal friend onto the boat for a moment, “Adrian are you scared of the ocean?"
"Yes. Is rational fear. Ocean is deep and muffley and distorted and big creature live in there. Adrian no want to be in ocean with creature bigger than Adrian."
Grace sits and recontextualizes all his memories of Adrian the anxious, attentive and very distant lifeguard under a new light. His mind also catches on Adrian’s last statement. Grace shuffles to sit beside Rocky as he looks at the eridian on the beach that stands at around two meters tall and over a meter wide.
"How big can Eridian sea creatures get?" He asks.
“Do not get them going about the ♬♬♩” Rocky groans.
Adrian taps their claws on the beach anxiously before leaning towards the water and warbling in a conspirational tone. “♬♬♩ is one creature, main body is around 10 cubic meters but is not just that, strong emphasis.” Grace pales and Adrian shivers, tucking their limbs closer to themselves and further from the water’s edge. “It is covered in dozens and dozens of spindly limbs with graspers on the end that can extend up to 30 meters and grab and pull and yank down down down to mouth.”
“Is like anemome on Earth.” Rocky follows.
“That does not sound like anemone on Earth.” Grace breathes out quietly.
“Is so,” Rocky counters, “have tentacles to pull food to mouth and body is suctioned to ocean floor.”
“Not always,” Adrian says, “can be sessile yes but can also creep slow slow slow along ocean floor if sense lack of food in environment. Bad bad bad bad bad bad.”
Grace mentally categorizes the creature as Infernal Meganenome From Hell. He picks his fishing rod back up just so that he has something to do with his hands. “...I don’t know if I wanna be in the ocean either, bud.”
Rocky sways dramatically and lets out a long note of exasperation from his vents. “Meganenome not even on this continent. And is not predator of Eridian. Soft grinding teeth only suck up sea worms. Adrian listen to too much bad audio drama.”
“Adrian not listen to that audio drama.” Adrian warbles. “Fear of creature and water bad enough already without listening to audio drama.”
“Okay, guys,” Grace interrupts with a mild quaver in his voice, “as a soft creature currently in the ocean that that aforementioned monstrosity lives in, do I need to be worried?”
“No one listen to Rocky” He trills quietly, “Creature not on continent, Rocky says, but no logic too boring for Grace and Adrian.”
“Ryland safe.” Adrian assures. “Grace habitat artificial ocean. No direct connection to actual ocean.
“But,” They continue, “Adrian still not get in water. Is principle of the thing.”
“Irrationality of the thing.” Rocky chirps quietly.
Adrian flings a rock in his direction, it bounces quickly towards the boat. Rocky, having learned from past errors, ducks and the stone skips past the boat.
Rocky’s arrogant crowing over his physical feat is interrupted by a thunk and a soft plop into the water, as the stone slams into his suit on its return from the other end of the enclosure.
Grace laughs uproariously over the side of the boat as Rocky whines. Wheezing he uses both hands to wipe tears from his eyes. Grace stops and raises his head as a sudden splash sprays water onto the back of his hands.
Both Grace and Rocky sit still and watch as Grace’s fishing rod slips below the water.
The silence stretches out.
"...How do we get it out."
"Grace could fish it out of water with his–” Rocky grinds out, “oh nevermind."
They sit.
"Grace is clumsy and bad at fishing."
"I’m not bad at fishing!” Grace yells. “You’ve never even fished before!."
"At least Rocky no drop fishing rod in lake. AND,” Rocky adds, “unlike Grace, Rocky actually catch fish with fishing rod.”
“I caught a fish too!”
“Grace catch fish like shooting fish in barrel, take no skill.”
“Well it’s hard to compete with a living sonar machine, I don’t have a way to cheat and know where the fish are underwater.”
“Grace has eyes,” Rocky stomps a leg. “is biological cheat too.
“And,” Rocky continues, “even without eyes Rocky can see that Grace hold rod wrong wrong wrong.”
“That’s how you’re supposed to hold it!”
“Too many fingers, statement.”
“Too many–”, Grace sputters, “I do not have too many fingers! If anyone has too many fingers it’s you.”
“Rocky know Grace bad bad at math, but Grace cannot even count, question? Stupid stupid stupid.”
“I can too count! And you have fifteen fingers which is more than I have, if you wanna talk about having too many fingers.”
“Grace stupid stupid stupid. On Earth, twenty is less than fifteen, question?”
“Twenty!?” Grace yells incredulously. “Where the heck did you get twenty from.”
Rocky spends a moment to just stand and click at Grace in disbelief. The next words he says are dripping with unveiled patronization.
“Grace have four limbs, statement. Each limb has five fingers, statement. Therefore Grace number of fingers is four times five. Which is twenty. When Grace last sleep, statement?”
It is at this moment that Grace remembers toes exist. But Grace also hasn’t forgotten that he hates losing an argument.
“You watched me sleep you jerk. And these,” Grace lifts both feet at Rocky. “are not fingers! They’re toes and they’re basically useless. I only have 10 fingers. So you have more fingers than me.”
“...Human body design is stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid-”
Grace tosses Rocky’s rod into the lake. Adrian sighs and droops on the shore while the two saviours of Erid and Earth increase the volume of their shrieking.
The tusseling that results from this argument is significantly more turbulent than their earlier one. The boat literally rocks back and forth as both of them belligerently shove at each other. Through great effort, and their squabble causing water to seep over the side of the boat, Rocky manages to dunk Grace’s head into the water.
He crows with delight at Grace’s wet glasses and sopping hair. Grace glares down at the blurry brown shape of his friend with bulging cheeks.
“Human body so inefficienct that eyes no longer useful, statement. Human eyes inefficient and human device for eyes so inefficient that a little water is all it takes to–”
Grace spits a mouthful of water onto Rocky.
Rocky emits an ear splitting note of pure disgust. He frantically drags three limbs against the front of his xenonite suit, his claws bumping into the floatation devices.
“Water sound gross and annoying, yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck. Leaky Grace gross gross gross annoying annoying annoying.” He shrieks, xenonite covered limbs dragging down his suit faster and faster. But the water still clings to it.
Grace leans against the side of the boat and laughs unapologetically as his friend visibly vibrates with disgust.
Rocky, who cannot reach a splotch of water wedged under a floatation tube, angrily rams the tube into the side of the boat beside Grace. Both astronauts freeze as the water, which should be below them, suddenly shifts orientation. They plummet into the water as the boat capsizes.
Rocky and Grace kick through the water, buoyed to the surface by their respective floatation devices. When they break the surface of the waves of their own creation they both cringe at the loud panicked shrieking of Adrian on the shore. They stand half meter shorter in height due to the deep pit their anxious pacing has worn into the beach.
Rocky and Grace begin their shameful doggy paddle back to shore, with Grace occasionally providing a helpful shove to the five-legged beachball drifting beside him.
By the time Adrian finishes chewing them out, interspersed with repetitive verbal checks and gentle patdowns to confirm that they’re both doing okay, most of the water has dried from their forms. Flotation devices have been removed and Grace sits in damp clothes beside Adrian with Rocky, in his very squeaky xenonite suit, on their other side.
The odd intergalactic trio sits in silence for a few minutes, ignoring both the water, with the boat floating along keel proudly pointed up to the sky, and the pit, otherwise known as the physical manifestation of Adrian’s anxiety.
Through the mild telepathy that comes from being locked inside a small ship for years after taking their own respective suicide missions, Grace and Rocky both unsubtly scoot (in Rocky’s case squeakily) towards Adrian at the same time. They both lean expectantly against the large eridian.
Adrian manages to ignore them for a couple seconds before they cave, bringing a limb around each of their idiots and cuddling them close. The grouchy rumble Rocky and Grace can both feel from where they are pressed against Adrian’s carapace is undercut by the clear care of their hold.
“Sorry Adrian,” Grace mumbles directly into their suit. His tired arms grasp as far as he can around their carapace. He can feel his heartbeat from where his chest presses against them.
“Sorry sorry sorry sweet mate, Adrian.” Rocky echoes, claws lightly tapping and scratching a familiar melody onto Adrian.
They both feel tension seep from Adrian as the grouchy rumbling shifts into a familiar purr of fond exasperation. Adrian lifts them both up to press them closer to them.
“Adrian is glad that,” They lightly squeeze the two encased in their arms for emphasis, “despite Rocky and Ryland act like stupid stupid idiots idiots, both are okay. Adrian’s stupid stupid idiots. Mine mine safe safe.”
Rocky and Grace hum back at the gentle chiding.
“Is one species in water that Rocky and Ryland were unlikely to see even if not behave like idiots,” Adrian hums softly. “Likes to stay on ocean floor. Can come on beach, but even with selective breeding prefer water. Have 9 legs with 3 modified with claspers, cylindrical main body slightly dorsoventrally flattened, thick carapace. Body small like young pebble. Curious mischievous creatures.”
“Is like Earth crab.” Rocky chimes in.
“Oh my god,” Grace gasps with profound delight, "carcinisation across the universe. Evolution really does pick favourites.”
“Word, question?” Adrian asks.
“Not this word, plead.” Rocky begs.
“I’ll tell you all about it later, Adrian,” Grace promises. “It’s really cool even if someone doesn’t understand that.”
“Deal.” Adrian hums.
“Adrian should try fishing.” Rocky prompts out of nowhere.
“Fishing rods at bottom of ocean, statement. Adrian not getting.” Without missing a beat they add, “Rocky not getting either, statement.”
“Not rod,” Rocky assures, “net.” He points a claw at one of the non permeable xenonite fishing nets sitting on the shore. “Rocky left one on shore for Adrian before went fishing. Thought more Adrian style than rod, statement.”
Adrian clicks at the net, considering. An uncertain hum shakes from their carapace.
“It’s fun,” Grace adds, “and you don’t even have to get into the water if you don’t want to.”
“...Adrian will try fishing for a couple Earth minutes with net,” they concede.
With that Adrian stands, still carrying Grace and Rocky and hesitantly walks closer to the net by the shore. They pause by the net, slowly lifting one of the three limbs they are standing on, wobbling slightly, and hastily lowering the limb back to the ground.
“As human say, ‘Adrian need a hand.’”
“Oh do you need help with- ookay,” Grace stammers as he is lifted across Adrian’s form. Rocky, getting with the program much faster than Grace climbs onto Adrian’s arm and makes grabby claws at Grace. Adrian delicately sets Grace into the crook of the arm holding Rocky. Grace grunts as Rocky bossily nuzzles his near 800 pounds into Grace’s stomach, keeping a few limbs gripped onto Adrian to keep his full weight off of Grace’s, very weak, human bones.
Adrian reaches their newly freed “hand” towards the net.
“Now don’t feel bad if you don’t catch anything,” Grace says, “a lot of the time people don’t catch anything while fishing.”
Adrian clicks at the water before scuttling along the shore.
“Even if not bad fisher like Grace,” Rocky adds ignoring Grace’s offended “Hey” and the hand Grace fruitlessly pushes against Rocky’s carapace, Rocky makes a point of cuddling even closer to the human, “fishing can take long long long long long–”
“Caught one.” Both Grace and Rocky freeze and gape, or in Rocky’s whistle, at the large creature writhing in Adrian’s net. Honestly, “in” is generous to the net considering the fact that about half of the creature is dangling outside of the net.
“Adrian is good good biologist,” Adrian purrs proudly, “catch many many many specimens in wild. Is easy.”
“How in the heck- man, I wish you were my lab partner back when I took entomology,” Grace mutters appreciatively.
“Adrian is best biologist,” Rocky boasts, carefully climbing off of Grace to scramble across Adrian and perch on their arm that is holding the net.
Adrian brings the net closer and then all lean towards it curiously. Rocky reaches out a claw to tap against the xenonite net.
“No tap on xenonite!” Adrian chastises, “Cause stress. Keep claws to self.”
Rocky huffs before following Adrian’s lead and softly clicking at the fish.
The final fish has a thick elongate body that stretches to just under a meter long and is covered in clumps of what looks like freshly cooled magma, with a shining orange peeking out between sections of its rocky carapace. The body of the fish, including a thick round tail, is surprisingly similar to an eel on Earth, specifically an eel that has had its head cut off. What Grace is considering the “front” of its body is a completely flat oval of the bright orange cartilage he’d seen glimpses of between pieces of the fish’s carapace. He tilts his head and sees a slit on its ventral side full of densely packed bristles like whale teeth.
“This is a ♩♭♭,”Adrian says pointing at what Grace has decided is a magmeel, “fish unique unique. Species lives deep underwater in cave with pocket of oxygen. Needed selective breeding to do well in low low Earth atmospheric pressure. But even before selective breeding does better in Earth atmosphere chemical makeup than in Erid atmosphere.”
“That’s so cool!” Grace beams. “How does a pocket of oxygen exist under the ocean?”
“Adrian no know. Not Adrian’s discipline. Ask oceanographer. But,” Adrian adds, sensing Grace’s pout, “magmeel does so well in oxygen can actually survive in biodome air for a couple minutes. Should not stay there long, not good for magmeel, but will not die.”
Grace feels a grin slowly spread across his face.
“Adrian,” he says conspirationally, “how would you like to take part in a very important human cultural custom.”
“Ooooh yes yes yes yes yes. Adrian want to do human cultural custom.” Adrian bounces excitedly in place.
“Give me one minute.” Grace climbs down from Adrian’s arms and runs towards one of the bags he has permanently abandoned on the beach. He rifles through it and holds up a small handheld camera.
“Humans like to show off and take pictures, a static image kind of like a carving of visible light,” Grace starts fiddling with camera settings, “and humans especially like to take pictures of themselves holding big fish they’ve caught.”
“Ryland want light carving of Adrian holding magmeel, question?”
“Yes, I just need you to hold the fish up. ”
“Hold up like this, question?” Adrian cups the net between their claws and holds it above their head with two arms, accidentally recreating the iconic Simba pose. Grace mentally files that away for future entertainment and photoshoots.
“Not like that today, sorry, I should have been more clear. I need you to grab the fish in your claws and hold it up beside yourself so that I can see how big it is.”
“Hold fish in bare claws, question?” Rocky shivers, warbling in horror and climbing down onto the beach as Adrian unhesitatingly grabs the fish and lifts it out of the net. “Yuck yuck yuck.”
“Just like that,” Grace praises squinting through the camera, “Just come a little closer to me, great, and hold it up a bit– perfect!” He snaps a photo.
“Adrian do human fish posing custom correct, question?” Adrian continues to stand perfectly still, keeping a firm grip on writhing magmeel.
“You did perfectly. Best picture of someone holding a big fish I’ve ever seen.” Adrian coos in delight, wiggling in place.
“Can magmeel go back in water now, question?”
“Yes yes, you can let it go now.”
Adrian sets the magmeel back into the water, it stays around long enough that Grace reaches out a hand to slide down its back, it leans into his touch curiously before swimming away.
“Cannot believe Adrian touch something wetter than Grace, statement.” Rocky says from where he stands noticeably a few meters away from all the fish stuff. “Gross gross gross.”
“At least Eridian fish aren’t slimy,” Grace says, standing up and wiping his hand on his pants.
“What question?” Rocky asks as Adrian clicks curiously.
“Slimy. It’s a description of something that is wet but it has a higher viscosity than water so sometimes it will even stick to stuff.”
Rocky freezes before exploding into a full body expression of absolute repulsion.
“EARTH HAVE WORSE THAN WET, EXCLAMATION?! GROSS GROSS GROSS GROSS GROSS GROSS GROSS–”
When Rocky finally overcomes the existential horror that is “slimy” they all sit on the beach once more. Rocky and Adrian use one of Rocky’s light interpreters, that he has also abandoned permanently on the beach, to look at the picture Grace took of Adrian holding the big fish.
“Is Adrian and fish,” Adrian exclaims in delight.
“Can hear proportion of fish to Adrian well in picture,” Rocky says, “Adrian and Rocky tied for best master angler.”
“It’s a good picture.”
“Grace just compliment own skills at taking picture. Rude.”
“I am not- Adrian, you look great in the picture.”
“Thank you for take picture and share human custom with Adrian, Ryland.”
“It was my pleasure, Adrian. I’d happily take photos of you any day.”
“Nice end to Ryland and Rocky stress out Adrian with stupidity,” Adrian hums. “But Adrian still bury Rocky in sand and sit on.”
“But Rocky has learned error of Rocky and Grace stupidity,” Rocky tries.
“No,” Adrian replies, “if Rocky act like egg Adrian will treat Rocky like egg.”
Rocky scrambles to his feet while Adrian sits still, too still, beside him.
“But,” Rocky tries pointing an accusational claw at Grace, “Grace also act stupid stupid on boat. Not fair if Adrian bury only Rocky.”
“Cannot bury Ryland,” Adrian replies, “Body like weak fragile eggshell. Adrian would crush, statement.”
Grace laughs triumphantly while Rocky stomps in place.
“Ryland get air jail instead, statement.”
Grace’s laughter stops sharply. The stones below Adrian shift as they stand to their full height.
“Wait no- shoot- Rocky! Don’t run away without me!”