Closed Old, Tired and Thirsty

[Solomon Black]

Early in the Evening at the Sliver Sliver, 54th day of Fall 517 Solomon kneeled at the end of a dock, his hands on his lap, staring down at the dark and still waters. Without warning a dozen pairs of long arms shoot from the water and grabbed the man and pulled him under. Choking and fighting Solomon tried his best but the water made him sluggish. Pulling out a dagger he whipped around, slashing and doing anything he could to get away. Stabbing into one final long arm they retreat into the water and Solomon desperately tries to claw his way back to the surface but when looks around he is surrounded by corpses. The corpses float towards Solomon as if pushed by an invisible hand, and he can no longer fight through. He begins to suffocate, and he takes a gasp of air but only water greets him. Drowning the bodies push him down and everything goes black. Snapping out of his daydream Solomon stared at his meal. After a few moments and one final mouthful of crap bar food finished his plate and washed it down with a mouthful of ale from his mug. His breath was ragged and with no rhythm. He had no idea what that was. A daydream he guessed, but more like a nightmare. Solomon sat alone at the bar. He had his hair tied up in a tight bun, and his beard was freshly shaved. He wore a faded brown leather jacket, but a plain white shirt that was relatively clean. One could say that Solomon looked good today. One probably wouldn’t considering the rest of his face, but they could. The old ex-mercenary looked around the Sliver with sweat on his brow and spotted more than a few patrons at this evening hour, but not too many. It was a quiet day overall, he’d hoped for a quiet night. He turned back around and took another drink of ale from his quickly emptying mug. “You’re not paid to get drunk.” A grizzled voice chimed in from across the bar. “Fuck off Jeb.” Solomon groaned and looked over at him. “Can’t a man enjoy a meal without you?” He took another long drink, finished his mug and slammed it down with some force then glared at Jeb. The bartender stared back with an unimpressed look. “You can’t.” Jeb grumbled as a reply, turning his attention to another patron that isn’t another grumpy old man and serving him a drink for a few coin. Solomon, having finished his drink, left the bar and stood up on a full stomach. He grabbed Mercy who was leaning on the bar against him and made his way around the room, keeping an eye out for any trouble but wasn’t expecting any. He kept Mercy in her scabbard in his off hand. The big sword served as a better way to dissuade anyone from making a bad decision. He was making himself and her known, in a subtle way. Just by walking around the room, standing tall and letting as many people see his weapon and his scar as possible. Afterwards he’d rest against the wall on the far side of the room from the bar and observe with his arms crossed, letting Mercy rest beside him. He had not been working at the Sliver Sliver for a while, but knew the place well. Some older patrons, or people like Jeb, had been seeing Solomon for years and had heard of his older work. When he was younger his crew would drink here, and they were not nice to the other patrons Now that he was more than a patron he had explicit orders to ‘Be Scary’. At first he found it amusing but now he was a little worried people may start seeing him as a thug again. It was not that he cared an abundant amount what others thought of him but that a little respect goes a long way, and respect is not fear. He let his gaze fall across the room looking at all the unsavoury characters like himself. Maybe feared was the way to be.

[Solomon Black]

The minutes turned into hours and the evening turned to night. The Sliver’s belly filled as the day grew old, meaning more work for Solomon. Eventually, the dimly lit building was having what they could call a good night with loud, drunk men spilling secrets and arguing over increasingly inane subjects. One such pair was in a debate about whether or not one’s donut could float in the canal while sitting at a table not far from the old man. It was not the subject matter but the intensity of the conversation that drew Solomon to lean in closer and eavesdrop their conversation over the ever-increasing volume of the room as men became drunker. It wasn’t a violent intensity luckily, more of a proud rivalry. He had to guess they were bakers, otherwise why to care so much about a silly pastry or how it could float. Then again, Solomon noted the four empty glasses beside each man. Eventually, they did get rowdy and Solomon politely asked them to leave before someone got hurt, mainly them. They did leave, being more polite than he expected after being threatened and went on with another argument about pastry buoyancy. He was a little sad to see them go but had a feeling they’d be back another night. After that nothing was quite so entertaining. Solomon told himself his legs were a little tired from wandering around and keeping a close eye on everyone so he took a seat at the bar and asked Jeb for a drink. He let Mercy rest on his stool, within arms reach. As Jeb poured him a glass of Ale, Solomon slowly turned on his stool to face the maybe fifteen people that populated the tables around the room. Once Jeb was finished filling his drink Solomon picked it up, took a sip and just watched the crowd. The drink warmed his gut, helped him relax a little. He was guarding a bar, not on a mission for Viper or even working some mercenary gig. He could allow himself to relax tonight… He’d hoped. He took another long drink and let his elbows rest on the bar behind him before thinking to himself maybe he should start doing rounds outside once the night starts to wrap up. Breath some fresh air. Something took brought Solomon back out of his head, something hit his arm. His head slowly turned to see a very young man with an obnoxiously large grin on his face. The kid nudged his cup into the old man's arm again and this time spoke, his big teeth chomping away as he spoke. They were mesmerizing, so he took a second to take another glance around the room and make sure everyone was behaving themselves. They were. Also, Solomon was feeling bit tipsy, but this kid was wrecked. “Hey! Hey, old timer, what you do to get a scar like that?” He asked before sloppily pouring some ale into his mouth and a bunch on his shirt. Solomon could tell by the multitude of stains that this kid must have had a problem with his hand-eye coordination. Besides his manner, however, being rude, it was the question that annoyed Solomon. “Pissed off the wrong guy in Ravok. Get lost.” The old man growled, giving his best ‘fuck off’ stare. It seemed to work though, the kid even put his drink down before walking away with his tail between his legs. Solomon waited to see if he had some friends that put him up to it and his eyes followed the kid through the sparse crowd until he just left through the front door. Solomon guessed he hit a nerve and decided to do rounds to take his mind off it. He stood up, left his half full beer on the bar and picked up Mercy in his off hand. Slowly, he made his own way through the drinking patrons of the Sliver towards the door.

[Solomon Black]

The old man opened the heavy wooden door with his back, turning around and walking backwards into it to do so while keeping an eye on the room as he moves away. He looks over at Jeb and with a raised arm gets his attention to let him know that he was going outside for a bit. Jeb could handle anything on his own while Solomon was getting some fresh air. Still, he hoped nothing actually happened. He’d hate for Jeb to hog all the skull cracking. As he stepped out into the cool night air he gave the door a particular nudge and spun around as it closed behind him. The old ex-mercenary standing there and staring at the night sky with a barely present grin on his face. The air lightly caressed the bald skin on his face and he let his eyes close as he took a deep breath. The whole working late every night thing was taking a small toll on the older man, so moments like this that allow him to collect himself was just the pleasantry he needed to keep going strong. A pair of city guards passed by, one of them glaring at him. Solomon noticed this stare when he opened his eyes and gave the pair a small wave and wished them a good night. The one staring stopped, his face lightened up and recognition washed over his face. “Solomon?” He queried. “Jay?” Solomon replied, a larger smirk replacing his content grin. To two walked over to each other and embraced like two old soldiers. “Shit kid,” Solomon added as he patted the guard on the back. “You’re on the night shift now?” The other guard awkwardly waited off to the side, picking at his nails and constantly looking away, clearly in a rush. Jay adjusted the short sword on his belt and smiled back at the older man. He was younger than Solomon by at least a decade and had a small but fresh scar on his cheek and gained some weight since he’d seen him last. He had served with Solomon once long ago as a mercenary but nearly dying on his first job had him retire early and get a job as a guard. Not a man designed for battle. “No, no. Just finishing up rounds with Gunther there,” He motioned towards his partner. He nudges Solomon in the chest, “So I hear you’re working as the muscle for the place? How is it?” “A lot easier.” Solomon replies with a half-hearted laugh that he was clearly not used to doing. He looked over the shoulder of the short and heftier man to see to other guard waiting. “Need to be anywhere?” He asked while motioning a pointed finger. A gesture that the impatient guard did not appreciate as he returned Solomon’s pointing with a forehead wrinkling look. Jay shook his head, “No. Well, he just wants to get home as soon as possible. Honestly, I think he may have a drug problem.” Jay whispered. Solomon also lowered his voice, “Shit, Garrot.” He leaned in closer, “Is it bad?” Solomon was glad drugs were never his poison of choice, just the drink. That was bad enough, but he understood how a life could take someone there. “Naw, honestly he just get’s super antsy when we’re out late and some days he’s just kind of out of it.” Jay turned around to face his partner, “Just going to be another minute.” As he turned back to face Solomon the old mercenary had his eyes trained on the other guard with suspicion. “Solomon no. Stay out of this. This concerns me and my people, not you and yours.” He said a little harshly, but not out of nowhere. Solomon knew he had a pretense for getting into un-needed fights and he also knew that anything he did would make it worse. Still, though, he felt protective of Jay. Jay put a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll see you around the big guy. Stay out of trouble for me, eh?” With that, he turned and walked back to his partner, Solomon watching the pair walk off into the night. “Fine.” Solomon mumbled to himself.

[Solomon Black]

For some reason while Jay was walking away, Solomon had the worst feeling in his gut. Maybe it was Envy? He always found part of the reason he looked after him and his family so much was because of his own that he lost. Honestly, though, he knew it was true. Thankfully he also did care for them on a personal level, at least at this point where he may as well be old Grandpa Black to Jays son. His head hung low he released a deep and lonely sigh, looking at the ground below him but not really seeing it. Solomon stayed like that for more than a handle full of minutes, thinking about dead people and the rise and fall of his breathing chest. He slowly came out of his daze and with a shake of his head, spun around on his heels to go back inside. His attempt to go inside, and ultimately his hopes for a relatively fight free night were dashed when something smashed him in the head, breaking over his face. He stumbled backwards a few feet, his eyes closed, before getting hit in the chest and falling onto his butt. As he opened his eyes just to see what the holy heck was even going on he was only able to see a fist as it collided with his jaw. Solomon fell back, hitting his head. Groaning he opened his eyes yet again. This time he saw a young man standing over him, a broken piece of wood in his hand, splintered and sharp. He immediately recognized him as the young man from earlier, despite his newly gained height. Solomon groaned again, what a petty kid. He just stared up at the youth with daggers and waited for him to do something while blood streamed down his face from his nose. The kid kneeled down over Solomon and pressed the broken piece of wood against his throat, “Looks like you pissed off the wrong person.” He gritted through his teeth. Solomon could smell the booze on his breath. Solomon took a deep, ignoring the strong smell and the improvised weapon at his throat. His fingers gripped onto the sword handle that he never dropped and that the kid somehow missed and with a smirk he spit a loogie into the kid’s eye. While he flinched and pulled away, Solomon bashed the pommel of his blade into the side of his head, knocking him off of Solomon and dropping his chunk of wood. As the kid flailed on the ground Solomon placed one hand on the ground and stood himself up. He leaned over and picked up another splinter of wood from the tons that littered the ground around them with his free hand. He turned around to see the kid trying to stand so Solomon took and step over and booted him in the side and then head. The kid lay there moaning. The old man with the bloody nose wiped away some of the said blood by wiping at it with the back of his hand. With a scowl he went down onto one knee and dropped mercy, grabbing his collar with the newly freed hand. With the splintered chunk of wood in his hand he made a fist, and pulled the kid up as he punched him with a closed fist. The boys head hitting the ground beneath with a thud. Panting a little bit Solomon let him go and looked at the splintered wood before tossing it away with a disgusted look on his face. He picked up mercy and stood over the unconscious boy, staring at him before turning back towards the Sliver Sliver. He flew the door opened and the sounds of merriment could be heard inside as he went in. The door closing behind him and leaving the kid in the street.