Name: Preston
Gender: male
Sexuality: straight
Children: never
Reason: virtually sterile
Profession: shore-side tailor
Typical Mood: joyous
Personality
Preston is very lively and friendly, father to the young ones even. He's almost always upbeat, content with his lonely life of making and selling clothing to others. He greets with a smile and a wave, maybe even a cheeky or goofy smile. He may even attempt to flirt with a few of the attractive female costumers, though he usually gets turned down instantly.
He is still rather young, being only in his late twenties. He has many tales, tall tales mostly, to tell, sharing them with all who ask and have the patience to listen. He is a friendly, unusually spry man with the strong want and longing of adventure. He, in his younger days, claims to have been a pirate. Sailing the seas with a bark and a sword in tow, in case he ever got into a tight spot. He was quite the fighter, too. A wonderful act with the sword, even a long sliver of wood.
He can occasionally become grumpy and cross or short, whether it be his nerves or emotions getting to him or a costumer being hard to get along with. But either way, he's not all that awful on a bad day. It's never really hard to bring a smile back to his face. Be it a simple gesture such as a 'thank you' to a child wanting his attention, there's really any possible way to brighten his day once more. He's not as tough a cookie as he looks.
A Scar Earned
"Mister...?"
A young, child-like voice reached his ears, feeling a gentle tug on his pants leg to go with it. The shop-owner turned, looking down.
"Yes, son?" he asked, kneeling to a bit above the child's level. The curiosity sparked in the kid's eyes brought a warm smile to his face.
"Why does you have that eye patch?" the child asked, pointing to it. The young male chuckling.
"Because, a good many year ago I was in a fight, and I nearly lost my eye." he told him simply, standing and walking to an old wooden chair. He sat down, patting his lap for the child to join him. "Would you like to hear it?"
The child's head bobbed eagerly, his face brightening. All the man could do was chuckle, going on to the tale.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The waters were rough that night, the sea splashing and slapping the side of our ship. now, I was no caption, not even a ranking crewmate, but I was still important. We all slept below deck, in the tight sleeping quarters while Captian slept in his own, private quarters. Many of the men had a bucket beside their sleeping place, unfortunately seasick.
Day crept slowly upon us, thankfully finding us in calmer water. I was the first on deck, taking a deep breath. It smelled just like ocean. I beat my chest lightly, opening my eyes as I heard Captain's door open. It always slammed against the wall behind it, waking the rest of the crew.
"Up an' at'em yew dogs! We're gettin' t' lan'd t'day!" He sounded so confident, as usual, but none of knew of what was to come.
The day was going along as usual, I was either cleaning, or swabbing, the deck or doing something with the sails with one of the other crew members. I was just enjoying the sun on my fur and the salty breeze through my hair. It was beautiful. Until First Mate spotted the rocks. Things were going to get bumpy here. We all raced to get everything either tied down or below deck, so it wouldn't go over board.
I had stationed myself on the rigging, hanging off the thick ropes with one hand to my brow. We were getting close. Too close. I jumped back on deck, clinging to the ropes and bracing for impact. And it came, with great, jerking force. I grunted, much of the crew shouting. I dared a look up, a piece of splintered wood placing itself in my face.
I yelled, clutching both hands over my eye, but no one could come help, not till we were out of the rocks. Captain was trying his best not to hit the rocks, which wasn't rare for him not to.
Much of the crew was rattled by the time we passed through the hard shards of earth, but I was badly wounded. They pulled the wood from my face and bandaged me up.
"'M s'rry Pres, but we're gon' have t' leave ya' behind. L't'ya' git healed up, an' mayhaps some know-how on how t' use only one eye."
Captain's words were devastating to me. All I had ever wanted was to be useful to him, and his laugh at the of his statement only made it worse. I knew he already had a replacement for me, that's why he said this. We had many crew members with missing limbs or a missing eye. Some even had both! I simply sighed, nodding like the obedient no-rank I was.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
He finished up the tale with him getting to shore and getting medical attention, and the sadness of the ship leaving without him. He looked to the tike, who had pulled a small wooden sword and was sucking it's thumb. The child was half asleep now.
"That boring, huh?" he chuckled softly, standing up, "I thought it was pretty action-packed myself..."
He passed the child off to it's mother, bidding her a good day.
Art
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Preston is very lively and friendly, father to the young ones even. He's almost always upbeat, content with his lonely life of making and selling clothing to others. He greets with a smile and a wave, maybe even a cheeky or goofy smile. He may even attempt to flirt with a few of the attractive female costumers, though he usually gets turned down instantly.
He is still rather young, being only in his late twenties. He has many tales, tall tales mostly, to tell, sharing them with all who ask and have the patience to listen. He is a friendly, unusually spry man with the strong want and longing of adventure. He, in his younger days, claims to have been a pirate. Sailing the seas with a bark and a sword in tow, in case he ever got into a tight spot. He was quite the fighter, too. A wonderful act with the sword, even a long sliver of wood.
He can occasionally become grumpy and cross or short, whether it be his nerves or emotions getting to him or a costumer being hard to get along with. But either way, he's not all that awful on a bad day. It's never really hard to bring a smile back to his face. Be it a simple gesture such as a 'thank you' to a child wanting his attention, there's really any possible way to brighten his day once more. He's not as tough a cookie as he looks.
A Scar Earned
"Mister...?"
A young, child-like voice reached his ears, feeling a gentle tug on his pants leg to go with it. The shop-owner turned, looking down.
"Yes, son?" he asked, kneeling to a bit above the child's level. The curiosity sparked in the kid's eyes brought a warm smile to his face.
"Why does you have that eye patch?" the child asked, pointing to it. The young male chuckling.
"Because, a good many year ago I was in a fight, and I nearly lost my eye." he told him simply, standing and walking to an old wooden chair. He sat down, patting his lap for the child to join him. "Would you like to hear it?"
The child's head bobbed eagerly, his face brightening. All the man could do was chuckle, going on to the tale.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The waters were rough that night, the sea splashing and slapping the side of our ship. now, I was no caption, not even a ranking crewmate, but I was still important. We all slept below deck, in the tight sleeping quarters while Captian slept in his own, private quarters. Many of the men had a bucket beside their sleeping place, unfortunately seasick.
Day crept slowly upon us, thankfully finding us in calmer water. I was the first on deck, taking a deep breath. It smelled just like ocean. I beat my chest lightly, opening my eyes as I heard Captain's door open. It always slammed against the wall behind it, waking the rest of the crew.
"Up an' at'em yew dogs! We're gettin' t' lan'd t'day!" He sounded so confident, as usual, but none of knew of what was to come.
The day was going along as usual, I was either cleaning, or swabbing, the deck or doing something with the sails with one of the other crew members. I was just enjoying the sun on my fur and the salty breeze through my hair. It was beautiful. Until First Mate spotted the rocks. Things were going to get bumpy here. We all raced to get everything either tied down or below deck, so it wouldn't go over board.
I had stationed myself on the rigging, hanging off the thick ropes with one hand to my brow. We were getting close. Too close. I jumped back on deck, clinging to the ropes and bracing for impact. And it came, with great, jerking force. I grunted, much of the crew shouting. I dared a look up, a piece of splintered wood placing itself in my face.
I yelled, clutching both hands over my eye, but no one could come help, not till we were out of the rocks. Captain was trying his best not to hit the rocks, which wasn't rare for him not to.
Much of the crew was rattled by the time we passed through the hard shards of earth, but I was badly wounded. They pulled the wood from my face and bandaged me up.
"'M s'rry Pres, but we're gon' have t' leave ya' behind. L't'ya' git healed up, an' mayhaps some know-how on how t' use only one eye."
Captain's words were devastating to me. All I had ever wanted was to be useful to him, and his laugh at the of his statement only made it worse. I knew he already had a replacement for me, that's why he said this. We had many crew members with missing limbs or a missing eye. Some even had both! I simply sighed, nodding like the obedient no-rank I was.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
He finished up the tale with him getting to shore and getting medical attention, and the sadness of the ship leaving without him. He looked to the tike, who had pulled a small wooden sword and was sucking it's thumb. The child was half asleep now.
"That boring, huh?" he chuckled softly, standing up, "I thought it was pretty action-packed myself..."
He passed the child off to it's mother, bidding her a good day.
Art
XxX
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