At the lakeside, with some light gear.

A tighter budget on his experiments and excursions meant shoddier gear, but Dr.Eliot’s underwater camera was guaranteed to be up to the task, as well as his battered old—top of the line—rebreather. It was more his old swimming trunks Eliot might have to worry about; the green shorts might’ve been mended a couple times already, and the stitches were getting weak, but he’d seen the creature just earlier today, so there wasn’t any time to waste. After loading his paltry gear onto a dinky raft, the man paddled out to the creature’s last known milieu, and waited for her to move.

It wasn’t twenty minutes before Eliot caught sight of a fin from his wooden raft, and dove into the drink after it— he’d recognize that fin anywhere as one belonging to his fabled fishwoman. And sure enough, when he’d breached the surface, staring back at him was the creature of lake Wannaseesomedick in all her glory. Practically mocking him with a smile and a wave, the beautiful monster girl brushed aside the strands of hairlike fibers from over her face; letting her boobs bounce slightly from the motion.

Although Dr.Browning knew it was anatomically absurd, the lake monster had breasts. And not small ones either— she had sizable, perky mammaries covered in the same shimmering scales as the rest of her tall, powerful body. Were the fishwoman not permanently naked, she’d probably need a C-cup bra, but for now, all she wanted to do was mess with the hunky scientist.

A coquettish giggle escaped her gills as Eliot approached the sexy, amphibious girl. When he’d almost gotten within filming distance, the creature stopped her wordless flirting by blowing a raspberry at Eliot, and swam down towards the kelp that blanketed the lakebed for cover.

With his cheaper, older camera, Browning could only film for about one minute before the picture got fuzzy, so he had to make every second count, and pursued the coy creature deep into the lakebed’s dense flora in hopes of a perfect shot. He was a powerful swimmer, and the rebreather in his mouth was of unparalleled quality, so there was zero concern in the Doctor’s mind other than finding his elusive water vixen. Which was tragic hubris on his part.

His bathing suit snagged and tore off on some plants during the singleminded chase, but Eliot paid it no mind even when his bare penis was brushed by the lake’s undercurrent; all that mattered was this next shot.