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mekachu04
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One thing that could be counted on was the crowds of men every two weeks that hit the port side taverns in mass. And without fail, every 14 nights, Killer would wait until the sun was firmly down before crawling in the back windows of Eustass' Tavern & Inn and sneak his way into the front of the house.
Eustass himself would have long thrown him out had he tried the front door, but Mòr Mhàthair was a soft touch, and as long as he waited until the dock workers were in their cups, she let him roam from table to table, polishing off plates of forgotten diners. Sometimes other street kids would show up but most of them didn't know the tricks to staying and would get kicked out the next week or never make it in the doorway to start with. But there were lots of other pickings on these nights, and Killer never once felt bad watching one of them get tossed out as he hid in the shadow of a chatty drunk and ate him out of his hard earned coin.
Away to the cheating world go you,
He had to listen to their terrible ditties, week after week, so he thought the meal was really only fair. By the time Killer usually arrived, the singing had already started and he just hoped they were fun ones instead of the sadder ones about loosing loves and such.
They were already well into it this night, the change up only being the other boy that seemed to be around more often these days, a chubby little red head that Killer suspected might be Mòr Mhàthair's boy or nephew or something, or otherwise maybe the cook's son.
He was in the thick of it tonight, tiny little form standing on the table in the middle of the room with a crowd of drunkards, all bellowing the words out together. He had to be 4 or 5 at the most, probably looking forward to starting school like all the other good kids that belongs to people, Killer mused.
A bright shock of short red hair, unruly and ruffled from the hands of many a dock worker, thinking him some kind of good luck charm. By the end of the night it be sticking out at every angle, like the rays of the sun on a children's drawing. Killer would watch him ever few weeks as he soaked in the attention of those not fortunate enough to have families of their own. He was magnet for the downtrodden it seemed, a little mascot the laborers rallied behind every paycheck night.
Where pirates all are well to do,
Some weeks, the kid would even turn to him as the hours drew late, when sleep started to override the joy of being somewhere warm and well fed. Killer was always careful to leave before last call, never giving the matron a reason to turn him away next time. The kid never had this restriction, and would watch him quietly as he snuck out of whatever booth he'd camped in for the night, slipping out of the back.
The one time Killer had looked back, the boy had waved at him, a sad little bye. Killer didn't return the gesture. Not that night.
But after a few months, the kid would see him and grin, and he'd find himself smiling shyly back across the noisy tavern.
And as the spring turned to summer, Killer finally waved goodbye back.
But I'll be true to the song I sing,
Sometimes, the kid would try to include him in the group's singing, especially the nights when they sang his favorite song: the pirate king anthem. Killer was mortified to be the center of the room's attention, and had hid under the table until one of the dock workers took pity on him and picked him back up to sit on the bench next to him, hidden from the room in general with an arm thrown over his shoulder and just tucked in close.
Most city people didn't want Killer anywhere near them - said he smelled funny and suspected he'd try to pickpocket them. Which was true for both cases more often that not. But the dock workers didn't particularly smell great either, and the dock master often gave him little jobs to do so he'd quickly become a familiar face to many of the men. And this one was pushing his half finished dinner in front of Killer so Killer really didn't have much motivation to steal from him. And week by week, he'd find himself shyly hiding from the boy at Eustass' behind one laborer or another, and it seemed to be a great source of entertainment for the blue-collar workers.
And live and die the Pirate King!
For a little pocket of time, every fourteen days, Killer felt like this must be what a family felt like. Sitting next to some man too rough and tumble to be a father to any real child; warm and dry, belly full of delicious properly cooked food. He'd listen to them spin fantastical yarns, then the sunshine boy himself would come sit next to him and demand songs from the men, and every time, someone would break out into one, and a cacophony of out of tune drunks would rattle the windows and Sunshine Boy would turn and beam at him like it was the neatest trick he'd ever learn to do. And maybe it was.
Killer would smile back, listening to the men warble on about Pirate Kings and Bink's Brew and in the days to follow would day dream about letting those silly ballads take him away from Kutsukku for good. Maybe he'd take Eustass' Sunshine Boy with him.
| THE | Chronological Order | NEXT |
| START | Day 19 :: Pirate King | ENTRY |
