Who

Drex

What

Approximately 2000 words of a distractable pirate not intending to steal a street sign. Because that would be wrong. Obviously stealing street signs is wrong and pirates don't do that. It'd be ridiculous.

Cussing, Stolen Street Sign, Distracted/OCDness

When

It is dawn of the fifteenth day of the third month of the ninth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Black Rock Hold, Southern, Sidestreet

OOC Date 20 Oct 2016 07:00

 

drex_default.jpg

Stealing street signs is for teenagers with too much time on their hands, not a self-respecting privateer!



Sidestreet

Drex is back in Black Rock not for a love of the place, but to avoid being on board the Wandering Disgrace. His boots make little to no noise on the cobbled streets and even as the streets widened for carts and other such traffic coming and going to the docks, the man keeps to the side, head bent and hands stuffed in the pockets of his overcoat. The street is mostly empty at this early hour and Drex’s pace is fast and purposeful despite the lack of a destination. He could go home, drop in on the folks, say hi, maybe a meal, see the siblings, swap stories, but … .he knew firehead is at home. He doesn’t want to know who is alive and who isn’t. He doesn’t want to know who he is supposed to be grieving for, so not knowing and assuming everyone is alive and well made sense. There is no reason to make himself miserable in knowing, after all conditions on the ship at the moment are enough reason for misery. The fear of sickness is rampant, alcohol is low, wanted posters are hung and the kid is not going to be of any value if he died. Even with the news of having some kidnapped healers onboard, things are bleak.

Even now, in the open air and the deserted street, things are still looking bleak. The early morning light did not compliment the old houses, highlighting the cracked and splintered wood and glistening off the paint of houses caked with years of salt and grime. Drex has been careful, cleaning everything he owned more than usual and trying to avoid the sickness on the ship. Thankfully the kid is isolated and Luciana is being kept apart from the rest of the crew. He has yet to feel that pressure in his head and the aching he’d heard is the first signs of firehead, but he knew better than to think he’d avoided the danger. It is a ship. One of them got sick, chances are that in a week, they’d all be sick. Stupid. Why’d they take that stupid kid in the first place?! The money promises to be good, but he isn’t even sure if a ransom has been called yet. Still, what is the point of a good ransom if they are all dead?

The man’s musings are dark as he walks, weighing his limited options seemed just as bleak as the rest of things. He could turn in a shipmate for their reward cash, but that would lose him whatever trust the rest of the ship has for him and might get him killed. While he has a very low opinion of his shipmates, he has a respect for their skills in killing. He could go to the Weyr and give up the ship, but again, that would make him an enemy of his ship, not something anyone would want. He could desert, but that would cut him out of any profits the kid could bring and could lead to getting firehead, if he isn’t doomed already. Or. He could wait it out, hoping to avoid the sickness and that the weyr didn’t find them and burn up the ship and that maybe enough of the crew would die to increase an individual’s share in the kid’s ransom. It is stupid. A stupid, stupid gamble and a game Drex didn’t want to be playing. After all, with healers now onboard, things might be looking up.

His feet take him further and further from the safety of the dock, the road widening again to allow the movement of multiple wagons and for the first time something penetrated Drex’s mind through the soup of self pity. There is a sign post and while the post it’self is standing upright and straight, an anomaly in and of itself in this crooked hold, the sign is on the ground, propped up against the post. Drex stops, eyes locking on the street sign with distaste. How are wagons supposed to read the sign if it’s on the ground? Honestly, Drex is mildly impressed the sign is still there. It must have fallen off, or been taken off by some delinquent, but the fact someone hasn’t stolen it for firewood or something spoke to him as to the moral integrity of Black Rock. Maybe the people here are just misunderstood. Maybe. Then again, a moral people would not leave the sign leaning against the post, they would put the sign back on the post where it belongs.

Distractable much?

The red headed man crouches down to get a good look at the sign, a hand reaches out and touches the holes where it would have been attached to the post. This could be a very easy fix. His eyes turn up to the top of the post, oh yes, a very easy fix. Then again, while Drex is a practical person, he did not carry around nails, rope or a hammer in his usual outings. Not so easy a fix as he first thought.

Oh well. He stands, hands returning to his pockets as he steps around the defective sign post to continue his walk. Stupid kid. Stupid ship. Stupid weyr.

Stupid sign post.

He stops, turning and looking back.
The sign isn’t even parallel with the ground. It’s sitting on the ground, how is it failing to line up!? Ah. Here we are. A rock. That’s marginally better.

He turns again. It isn’t his problem. If the residents of Black Rock want their street signs on the ground, so be it.




But it is wrong.


Drex tucks the sign under one arm and takes off in search of the tools needed to get the sign back up in it’s rightful place on top of the post.

Now with a purpose, Drex turns back toward the docks. He knows where ship supplies are sold and knew without a doubt, nails and rope could be found there. If he picks up a hammer as well, then he could be back at the signpost and have the sign back up within the hour. With these thoughts, he is tempted to treat himself to a quick drink at a bar, after all here he iss being a productive citizen, fixing the sign post and this helping traveler and resident alike. With it back attached to the post there would be no fear of someone stealing it and while in the meantime, folks may not know what street they were turning onto, it is a sacrifice Drex is willing to make for the long term good of the community.

As he walks, a set of posters catch his attention. The faces of Argento and Zavyr look back at him and he pauses, walking over to look over who all have been marked. Not many really, for as many pirates had been there, but Drex supposes that in the turmoil of the fight not too many riders had gotten a good look at their adversaries. He is thankful that he’d been with the boats. He doubts he’d been seen when no riders even followed the boats, so in that regard, he is safe. Keeping himself disassociated with the ship while at the hold has been easy so far with as many sailors usually came and went from the place. He shifts the sign to the other hand and takes down a few of the wanted posters, tucking them into his jacket and moving on.

The light grows stronger and as the hold starts to wake and people start to fill the street, Drex’s progression slows. Suddenly, there is a crash and a fearful noise of a runner beast. Down the street a wagon has over turned and although Drex couldn’t see the cause, the few people in the street starts toward the accident. Drex dislikes crowds, and he lets his course veer away from them, taking the opposite street, finding a nice alcove to prop himself against to watch the turmoil from afar. There is another crash, the runner beast that was once attached to the wagon is loose and the paniced animal bolts, galloping down the street past Drex with a gaggle of people chasing after it. It is funny in a disorganized sort of way and the little amusement Drex get from watching their little drama is enough to keep him watching, all thoughts of the sign post gone. The crowd grows at all of the yelling, but Drex isn’t concerned until the guards showed up. Now is a good time to get out of town. He is just turning to head toward where the jungle met the city when wary eyes spotted the knots of a rider. He looks up, searching the skyline for a dragon and with a mixture of relief and worry, he sees none. One rider is one more than he ever wants to see, but this rider is not alone. One, two, three? Whatever business these riders have at this early hour is beyond him and while their willingness to help out the owner of the missing runner and the over turned cart is very community-minded of them, it is no longer a show he wanted to stay around to watch. He ducks down, knowing that the chances of being picked out as odd in a crowd is low, especially when attention is focused elsewhere. Regardless, with a head of bright red hair and being the only one leaving the scene of the crash might draw attention. He hopes not, slipping into a side street as quickly as he can before he heads back into the safety of the jungle and starts picking his way back to the ship. One adventure in town is enough for today if there are riders about. Drex doesn’t think anything about his dress or demeanor yelled ‘pirate’ but being a faceless stranger to the riders is still preferable.

The ship is awake when he arrives back, men are going about their duties with more or less the same dragging manner they had when he left. With a hand raised in greeting, he starts below deck, planning on stowing his coat away before checking on the ship’s water supplies and starting his own work.

“Drex, why did ya steal a street sign?” The voice comes from behind him and Drex froze, eyes falling to the sign still tucked under one arm. His horrified expression sparks laughter in his shipmate and the man leaves Drex standing there in the narrow hallway.

He’s taken the sign?!? What the hell is wrong with him?! Stealing street signs is for teenagers with too much time on their hands, not a self-respecting privateer! He wants to hide the thing, burn it, throw it over board, just be rid of it! He can’t go back to town with dragon riders there and now that he thought about it, a man carrying around a street sign probably looks terrible. He can’t return it without drawing attention to himself. His mind reeling with all of the wrongness of stealing street signs and an inevitability of now being stuck with it, Drex continues below.

Finally, the man gave in and locates a set of nails and a hammer. The sign is put up on the wall above his cot, nailed securely and perfectly parallel with the ground. Drex hates the thing, but at least now it is hung up. Maybe not in the place it is supposed to be, but hung up is far better than on the ground. It gave him another worry he didn’t want and a guilt that is pretty unjustified given his guilt-less help in kidnapping Ralaov. Priorities. Seriously this man has his priorities straight. Or not.

Drex leaves the sign there for the time being, biding his time until when he feels safe enough to return to Black Rock and put the sign back up. For now, he’s sticking with the ship.

Add a New Comment