Post by Alfred F Jones on Sept 24, 2012 8:14:49 GMT -5
The pier was buzzing with activity.
It was the early morning, and the Lux had just been brought in port the previous afternoon. Alfred was jittering with the excitement to feel the land beneath his feet again. He was so tired of the constant queasy feeling that surrounded him whilst he was on the vessel. He was tired of month old moldy bread, and water that he was sure had stagnated. Call him a pretty boy, but Alfred enjoyed the comforts that his previous life had provided him with. He didn’t like being a sailor, and to most people this much was obvious.
The air that particular afternoon was thick with fog swirling around the early market goers. Rain clouds hung heavy in the sky, and loomed with sinister dominance over those who were traveling amongst the fish mongers, textile traders, and merchant stands. People were scurrying to and fro, different things on the forefront of their minds, and baskets swinging from their arms. Their children, one clutching a small velvet rabbit, were quick on their heels, making sure not to lose their mothers in the crowd. The air was one Alfred was too familiar with, the overbearing scent of the sea with it’s salty waters sloshing back and forth against the rocky coves of Plymouth, Massachusetts. It’s rock crags sharp and definite against the relentless ocean, and the people there seemed just as determined to remain there. Behind the market were clusters of hotels, bars, and even brothels beside post twentieth century architecture that had long since been abandoned to rot. Ivy had climbed up the sides of synthetic skyscrapers and pulled the once towering buildings down to nothing more than rubble. Those places were now nothing more than massive nesting grounds for animals of all kinds.
Mother Earth was indeed a forceful woman Alfred concluded. Perhaps it sounded a bit morbid, but at least he was close to home.
That was always a good thing! Optimistically he had to keep himself from falling into the dumps. A meek smile appeared on the lieutenant’s visage and he hopped off the taffrail, where he had been observing the town sprawled out beyond the wharf where the ship was moored, and onto the stern. He had might as well get his day started, three past noon was far too long to be sitting on his butt and doing absolutely nothing. He needed to chart out the next path for the Lux’s sails to take; it was waiting patiently for him.
Maybe he would get dressed in his usual garb, hit the bar, and finish that up.
By usual garb Alfred of course meant, an olive button up, tan trousers, and black suspenders. They were much more comfortable than his usual mariner fatigues, and Alfred loved attention he got, but he did not want it for being part of the Navy. He wanted attention from his navigational skills, his inventions, his charisma and bravery! Perhaps it was a pipedream, but seven hours later when the clock struck ten. Alfred was far from finished with his work.
The bar was lukewarm against his heated skin and the atmosphere was filled with smoke and the emotions of depressed men, who had in some way loved and lost. It was oppressive on Alfred and after about ten shots of whiskey he too was beyond all reasonable comprehension mumbling about another man who had left him long ago, and how navigation could have at least been a little easier.
“Ursa minor! You are the most annoying piece of—“
Alfred stopped pinpointing the constellation on his map and giving a giddy smile.
“Ah-ha!” A deep chuckle followed, and Alfred announced his plans to the entire bar. “I will lead the Lux to Gallia using this!”
Again Alfred giggled, and the entire bar just continued on after his little outburst. Alfred really didn’t know why he wanted to go to Gallia, but that was where they were going! He was tired of fighting pirates and clashing with violent storms. Maybe that was the place he needed.
And for the record he could totally hold his liquor.
It was the early morning, and the Lux had just been brought in port the previous afternoon. Alfred was jittering with the excitement to feel the land beneath his feet again. He was so tired of the constant queasy feeling that surrounded him whilst he was on the vessel. He was tired of month old moldy bread, and water that he was sure had stagnated. Call him a pretty boy, but Alfred enjoyed the comforts that his previous life had provided him with. He didn’t like being a sailor, and to most people this much was obvious.
The air that particular afternoon was thick with fog swirling around the early market goers. Rain clouds hung heavy in the sky, and loomed with sinister dominance over those who were traveling amongst the fish mongers, textile traders, and merchant stands. People were scurrying to and fro, different things on the forefront of their minds, and baskets swinging from their arms. Their children, one clutching a small velvet rabbit, were quick on their heels, making sure not to lose their mothers in the crowd. The air was one Alfred was too familiar with, the overbearing scent of the sea with it’s salty waters sloshing back and forth against the rocky coves of Plymouth, Massachusetts. It’s rock crags sharp and definite against the relentless ocean, and the people there seemed just as determined to remain there. Behind the market were clusters of hotels, bars, and even brothels beside post twentieth century architecture that had long since been abandoned to rot. Ivy had climbed up the sides of synthetic skyscrapers and pulled the once towering buildings down to nothing more than rubble. Those places were now nothing more than massive nesting grounds for animals of all kinds.
Mother Earth was indeed a forceful woman Alfred concluded. Perhaps it sounded a bit morbid, but at least he was close to home.
That was always a good thing! Optimistically he had to keep himself from falling into the dumps. A meek smile appeared on the lieutenant’s visage and he hopped off the taffrail, where he had been observing the town sprawled out beyond the wharf where the ship was moored, and onto the stern. He had might as well get his day started, three past noon was far too long to be sitting on his butt and doing absolutely nothing. He needed to chart out the next path for the Lux’s sails to take; it was waiting patiently for him.
Maybe he would get dressed in his usual garb, hit the bar, and finish that up.
By usual garb Alfred of course meant, an olive button up, tan trousers, and black suspenders. They were much more comfortable than his usual mariner fatigues, and Alfred loved attention he got, but he did not want it for being part of the Navy. He wanted attention from his navigational skills, his inventions, his charisma and bravery! Perhaps it was a pipedream, but seven hours later when the clock struck ten. Alfred was far from finished with his work.
The bar was lukewarm against his heated skin and the atmosphere was filled with smoke and the emotions of depressed men, who had in some way loved and lost. It was oppressive on Alfred and after about ten shots of whiskey he too was beyond all reasonable comprehension mumbling about another man who had left him long ago, and how navigation could have at least been a little easier.
“Ursa minor! You are the most annoying piece of—“
Alfred stopped pinpointing the constellation on his map and giving a giddy smile.
“Ah-ha!” A deep chuckle followed, and Alfred announced his plans to the entire bar. “I will lead the Lux to Gallia using this!”
Again Alfred giggled, and the entire bar just continued on after his little outburst. Alfred really didn’t know why he wanted to go to Gallia, but that was where they were going! He was tired of fighting pirates and clashing with violent storms. Maybe that was the place he needed.
And for the record he could totally hold his liquor.
