🚤
Send 🚤 to go fishing with my muse
[It’s been a while since I’ve RPed Irv, so give me some leeway. ]
Ricardo hated boats. Hated them. It didn’t help that he associated them with the most traumatizing event of his life, but he had barely been on one since 2009. He’d been quite proud of that, too. But TriCell had concocted one of the most asinine team-building exercises he’d heard of since he started as a researcher way back when to do a trust fall. No one caught him. Now TriCell thought it’d be a great idea to cast out on a yacht and go deep-sea fishing to tighten bonds within the company. Ricardo had begged to skip the event but it had fallen on deaf ears.
The businessman watched the waves with a slow-smoldering hatred as he leaned back in the chair, the fishing pole held loosely in his hands. He wished he was drunk right now. Maybe that’d make it more tolerable. A few of the scientists walked past him, laughing at something that better not had been him. The black market dealer sneered, pulled his cap further over his face, and hoped maybe the warm sun would lull him off to sleep and when he’d wake up they’d be back on land.
