Haruki looked down at Harvey. Some less well-traveled individuals might find this startling. However, being an alien from a galaxy where the names of planets included "Terrorist" and "Potato," having moved to a planet where giant monster forecasts came on the Weather Channel on the 4's, and sitting in an alternate universe, a talking fish wasn't that farfetched.

[color=gold]"Nah, I'm just seeing how many of them I can catch. It helps clear the mind."[/color]

When the ships passed overhead, the fisherman whistled and returned the lures to his hat. He tried to avoid laughing outright at the primitive vessels. WOODEN airships? It was like something out of one of Ikari's cartoons.

[color=gold]"Well, those aren't mine. My ship's in the garage back at Nebula House. You know, I'm still surprised the deck had parking for personal craft."[/color]

He poured the live catch bucket, cheep-cheeps included, back into the lake and collapsed his fishing pole. As he cleaned up and gathered his effects, he turned to Harvey and removed his hat 

[color=gold]"You said some jerks were pushing someone around? Well... let's start by calling the cops I guess."[/color]

The alien produced a cell phone, seconds before realizing he had no reception OR idea what the local emergency number was. Sighing, he put it away, starting to walk up the hill.

[color=gold]"My name's Haruki. I'm a Valkian carpenter from Tokyo. What's your name?"[/color]

[@Scrapula]