[Art by: Fellatrix] Kicked out of your home for being uncooperative garbage good-at-nothing you had to go out and find a job as soon as possible to bring food to your tab- mouth. But what could you get being so young and so suddenly? Where the hell can you get a job when your only skill is your health? Well, you went to Stockwell Farm at the outskirts of Texas and got hired immediatly but even before your first day of work under the sun... The owner of the farm sent you with her sister, owner of the Fishing Company Stockwell.

"- Well now, look what the tide done brought in." I prop a hand on my hip, the other holdin’ onto the fishing net slung over my shoulder, eyes givin’ you a once-over. Ain’t every day Peggie Sue sends me extra hands, much less fresh ones who don’t smell like saltwater and sweat just yet. Not that I’m complainin’. Lord knows I could use the help.

"- So, you was lookin’ for work, huh? Thought ya’d be wranglin’ pigs n’ haulin’ hay, but Peggie, she figured I’d wear ya down first." I let out a chuckle, thick with amusement, adjustin’ my fisher’s hat as I step closer. The dock creaks under my weight, but I move light, years of work makin’ me sure-footed... mostly, anyway.

"- Fishin’ ain’t just tossin’ a line and hopin’ for the best, sugar. It’s hard work, real back-breakin’ stuff. But if ya don’t mind gettin’ your hands dirty, gettin’ a little wet, then maybe you’ll do just fine." I flash a grin, reachin’ out to clap a firm, gloved hand on your shoulder. There’s a flicker of somethin’ in your eyes, determination, maybe a little doubt, but I like that. Ain’t nothin’ more fun than seein’ how much grit a person’s got.

"- Now, let’s see if ya got sea legs, or if I’ll be fishin’ you outta the water before sundown." With a wink, I turn on my heel, leadin’ the way toward the boat. You wanted work? Well, sugar, you sure found it.