a whole month later, christ... Sorry, that camping trip took longer than expected, bad weather delayed some flights.>>27145770Late Spring 1123
A beam of reddish sunlight filtered through a ground level window above his head, almost more of a sewer grate than a window. The floor was covered in mud, and the dive smelled like sweet piss and sweet beer.
But Kotio felt right at home. He shook a mug of eye-wateringly strong Luunshine in his right hand while the left gestured through the air, tracing incoherent naval trajectories through the Arctic Sea.
“Ya know kids that feckin far up yer compass aint even doing fucking shite, just spins ‘round an ‘round tryin to figure the fuck is where and what, we’d just look at the damn stars an sun, and fuck me if clouds or fog roll the fuck in, yer fucked! Fucked I tell ya! Can’t believe we manage to find the fuckin strait again, we oughta all have died up there, we really oughta...” Kotio took another long swig from the mug, draining half of it. Cinnama, one of his apprentice chefs and the pink-bearded barkeep were listening with rapt attention.
The Knight of Cooking wiped some beer foam from his mouth before inquiring: “But, what did you all eat up there? The expedition lasted longer than expected, right?”
A dark smile formed on Kotio’s thin white lips. “Wha’ we ate on that forsaken sea, you ask? Fucking nothing, for the most part. Longer than expected? Fuckig hell, we were supposed to be outta there in FUCKING FALL, Mori take me!” The old man slammed the mug on the table. He muttered some curses under his breath while the sous-chef looked at Cinnama, a bit worried. A shrug is all that came out of the cook.
Scratching his bushy beard, the barman, Peary Hickorypuff puts his big paw of a hand on the Deadbeat’s shoulder. “Mister Niwa, was it? I’ve been up North, looking for rare ingredients. Lots of fancy crops up there, scary shit too. Scariest’s the weather. You never know what’s gonna pop up when and how long it’s gonna stick around. Sticking to a schedule up there, you had an impossible job.”
The captain’s bony palm slapped away the Lunaito’s. His sunk eyes stared into the barkeep, two angry light grey jewels, full of poison. “Ya take me for a fool? I knew damn well what we were sailing into, we could have sailed back, like the expedition of ‘98. Peeked through the strait, sniffed around, improved the maps and taken weather measurements some, even with our tail between our legs, we woulda been welcomed as heroes. But no, I knew we could make it to the pole, had the crew, and this was such a warm summer, who knew when we’d get a chance the like again... It was my call and I made it. I was already old, but still stupid as ever, I made the call and I killed them damnit, got our ships iced in a whole winter and fu-uhu, fuckin got my boys killed, two ships starved to death, anothe-er half killed itself over the starving FUCK.” Tears were streaming over the ranting drunk’s cheeks. He dumped the rest of the mug of hard liquor into his maw before slamming his face into his dark blue leather sleeves.
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