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The old man was an unusual sight to those aboard the ship. No luggage for the long trip, just a staff, his clothes, and that odd bag on his back. A poor adventure one might assume, though from the wrinkles it did not seem right.
Some sailors would call him geezer, or old man only to receive a smile. Though he purchased a separate room he was a very social person. Often discussing matters with those around him.
Only time he sought solitude was during meal time or at night. Which helped create rumors of him being a werewolf or other beast hiding his nature in that room? That rumor was quickly dismissed when folks found him awake at odd hours welcoming guest in to visit.
A few words were traded at port "Make sure to die after you leave the ship", "take care buzzard", "need help off the boat?", all of which he just responded with a smile. Then a simple comment, "I thank you for sharing some time with an old man, travel in peace".
With a quick wandering of the town an inn was found with an open room. The only special request was to have his food brought to his room. The inn keeper started to say something only to be cut short,"I do not want to make a show of an old man spilling stew on himself for all to see".
Once in his room with the night’s meal, he quickly put the food in a chamber pot with some dirt. Next he braced the door, and untied some straps around his chest, as the weight of his pack shifted he untied the straps around his shoulders.
Now a bit more comfortable he adjusted his shirt to access a device stuck in his chest. With a quick turn around he faced what was his pack, a short zombie. Taking the key from around the zombie’s neck he inserted it into the odd device.
"Gibson, forty years an not a word. Perhaps I might join you soon. *sighs* was so long ago the accident occurred, yet while I still stand I can do something of use. Perhaps some day you might talk, until then I am glad to keep your company.”
As the withered old man turns the key, it snaps in the device. Puzzled look at the key is soon followed by noise of gears jamming. Slowly he looks down at the device an pulls on it. Although stuck in his chest it causes him little discomfort or pain pulling it out.
After adjusting his glasses the old man takes his necklace and holds it in front of his face.
“Elizza, this device isn’t what is keeping me alive?...”
Some sailors would call him geezer, or old man only to receive a smile. Though he purchased a separate room he was a very social person. Often discussing matters with those around him.
Only time he sought solitude was during meal time or at night. Which helped create rumors of him being a werewolf or other beast hiding his nature in that room? That rumor was quickly dismissed when folks found him awake at odd hours welcoming guest in to visit.
A few words were traded at port "Make sure to die after you leave the ship", "take care buzzard", "need help off the boat?", all of which he just responded with a smile. Then a simple comment, "I thank you for sharing some time with an old man, travel in peace".
With a quick wandering of the town an inn was found with an open room. The only special request was to have his food brought to his room. The inn keeper started to say something only to be cut short,"I do not want to make a show of an old man spilling stew on himself for all to see".
Once in his room with the night’s meal, he quickly put the food in a chamber pot with some dirt. Next he braced the door, and untied some straps around his chest, as the weight of his pack shifted he untied the straps around his shoulders.
Now a bit more comfortable he adjusted his shirt to access a device stuck in his chest. With a quick turn around he faced what was his pack, a short zombie. Taking the key from around the zombie’s neck he inserted it into the odd device.
"Gibson, forty years an not a word. Perhaps I might join you soon. *sighs* was so long ago the accident occurred, yet while I still stand I can do something of use. Perhaps some day you might talk, until then I am glad to keep your company.”
As the withered old man turns the key, it snaps in the device. Puzzled look at the key is soon followed by noise of gears jamming. Slowly he looks down at the device an pulls on it. Although stuck in his chest it causes him little discomfort or pain pulling it out.
After adjusting his glasses the old man takes his necklace and holds it in front of his face.
“Elizza, this device isn’t what is keeping me alive?...”
Shiv Shadowsong