ShiftyStories
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Update - 14/05/2022
🕑 Added 2022-05-14 06:07:05 +0000 UTCHey everyone! Just a little update, since I suspect that the stories have been a bit sparse for the Daylight Crowd since most of the pieces I've put out recently have been 'after hours' fare. There are more public stories in the works - so fear not!
I still have almost twenty stories for folks on my list that I'm working through steadily, and they'll be up here when their intended readers have had the chance to check through them. But for those who are keen for something more public, here's a little sneak peek for you of my current project!
...
Salt water churned against the decrepit wooden supports of the old wooden pier, glowing a faint red tinge under the light of the signal lantern. Hanging from its old rusted chain, the lantern’s glare pierced through the endless gray storm as steadily as it had on the day it was lit.
Beneath it, sitting atop a tuffet whose fabric had long ago been eaten away by the elements, was a man. A thick black beard streaked with silver threads contrasted against the long mane of silver above, whose few remaining black threads hung on gamely against the advance of time. His storm-coat nestled about his suit, shielding him from the elements as he flicked a fob-watch from one deep pocket.
Three years, four months and six days since he had sat down on this stool and lit the lantern; scarcely any time at all. He cast his gaze out into the storm, wondering how many years more it would be until someone arrived to answer his call.
His eyes narrowed, one gloved hand raising to shield his vision from the rain as he squinted out into the frothing waves of the ocean beyond. A ship plunged through the rolling hills of salt and foam, its great hull shrugging off even the mightiest blows the sea could hurl at it. The fellow watched intently as more vessels faded into view beyond, spread out in a net around the fore-running ship.
“Hrm.” He mused idly as he saw the patchwork flag of the pirates flying proudly atop the highest mast, its bright and vibrant colours the first of their sort beyond red and blue that he had seen in quite some time.
As the ship skipped and bounded across the dancing tides, it kept itself neatly ahead of the fleet beyond, their own flags bearing the symbol of the Authority - notable by its absence of any defining features. With a creak of effort, the fellow stood atop his stool, patiently awaiting the arrival of the pirate vessel.
In a mere three hours, the ship had all but arrived at the edge of the pier, its decidedly titanic bulk sweeping delicately up alongside the flimsy little pier. The vessel slowed for a moment, long enough for one of the pirates to launch themselves rather gamely from the side of the ship, landing with a resounding ‘THUD’ on the weather-worn planks of the pier. In spite of its state of decay, the stubborn woodwork held strong.
The gentleman standing atop the stool regarded the pirate; their tricorn hat sat at a rakish angle that showed off the golden thread woven through its tips, helping to frame the curtain of brown hair that managed to be almost as wavy as the sea itself. Their bright purple coat hung about their shoulders, whipped back and forth by the bluster of the winds as they rose to a confident standing posture. He briefly admired the pirate’s polished black boots, the silvery gleam of their scaled belt-buckle, and the grip of the weapon at their hip - a dark green whip that seemed to be woven from coarse sea-weed.
In return, the pirate looked about for a puzzled moment, before their gaze drifted down to the thumb-sized man standing atop the weathered old stool. A moment later, they had dropped into a casual squat, their tone professionally jovial as they nodded up at the lantern.
“Ahoy there! I am Nelly Stardust, Captain of the Maggie. What is your destination?”
