Rule #1: Always pick a cool sounding title that has nothing to do with the actual subject.
Roleplay for:
Mo
Lex
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Hours at sea felt like days, days at sea felt like months, months at sea felt like years. When hours at sea turned to days, that was normal. When days at sea turned to months, that was expected. But when months at sea turned to a year, and then more months continued after, that was torture.
Tom had always loved the sea. He loved the air, the way the waves lashed against the side of his ship, the way it smelled and the way the salty air felt on his hands when he worked. Pulling ropes, hauling barrels, writing letters he could not send. It started off as a way to pass the time. There was often a lot of that, once all the real work was done. It took him hours to write each one, and by the end of the year he'd written well over a hundred. Each letter began the same way, written formally and with a careful hand (though far from 'beautiful' by any standard of handwriting).
Dearest Ruanisana Stellamaris Gwendoline Deii Tudernax (Ru),
I'm sorry to make you wait so long.
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When the sales contract finally left his hand and he patted the side of his ship goodbye, Tom turned to face the town, and did not look back. He would miss the old ship, with all of her quirks and faults. They'd had a good run, even though most of it had consisted of bootlegging in the purest form.
Leaving behind everything he was familiar with was a risk, but one well worth it. He could pick up new hobbies on land, find new ways to make a few bucks and see his way through the world. And with any luck, he wouldn't be alone. Eagerly, he took the money he'd gotten from the sale of his ship, and went into the town. There were shops with many things for sale, and where he usually would have avoided them, now swept from window to window, glancing here and there for various items. A new suit, nicer than his worn clothes, but still fairly simple and inexpensive. A sample of food here and there. And a few other objects, purchased after some intense bargaining.
Now all that was left was to seek out a particular inn, rumored to be warm and expensive. He remembered the way well enough, though his previous time in the town had been fairly brief, and he had been gone for a long while. His feet could probably have carried him in a direct route easily, but instead he took a longer path, and dawdled in what could only be described as hesitance. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Ru; he'd waited over a year to see her, and it had been, without question, the longest year of his life. But what if she wasn't there? What if she'd moved on?
At one time the thought would have made him shake with fury. But it had been over a
year. Far longer than even he had expected. For Ru to have moved on was only reasonable. Maybe she'd have found someone who had money, a definite future. That would be ideal, wouldn't it? But he kept walking, and found himself at the entrance to the inn anyways. If she had moved on, he would learn to accept that. But from the time he had spent with her, he felt that she was quite self-sufficient, and perhaps would have waited after all. He could always hope. Either way, the door was there, and his feet were already through the opening. Now, in the front room, it was warm, and the decor showed that it was indeed expensive. He glanced around briefly, and headed towards the back, where he remembered once seeing a broad man, writing down rows of numbers, his brows furrowed in concentration.
