Dashed Expectations

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PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 11:08 pm 
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It was a mildly sunny day in a port town that no one really cared to remember the name of. It was far from the destination of one young man, anyway. He walked along the gritty shore, using a tall trident as a walking stick, although he didn't really need one. A walking stick, that was. His dark eyes, shadowed by his slick, brown bangs, glanced this way and that, looking for something that would satisfy his craving for freedom.

His tall gray boots stopped their jaunt as the man noticed something. Off by the piers was a well-furnished wooden building, longer than it was tall. The sign on the building read: "Super Naval Enterprises Shop".

Taking a sidelong glance at the pier, the man noticed several interesting boats floating in the harbor. There was a steamboat, a rowboat, a yacht, a motorboat, a sailboat, a showboat... Mostly, the man was interested in the yacht. He had always wondered what it would be like to sail down a slow-running river on a yacht.

Bundling up his brown coat over his white shirt, the man strode self-assuredly into the store with his trident now leaning on his shoulder. Inside was a quaint interior filled with a few steampunk-like peripherals, such as a ceiling fan. Some frames on the walls held newspaper articles which the man presumed told of the exploits of the company, or perhaps the man running it. They all mentioned the name "Joizashmo".

A back door swung open and in walked a dapper man in a naval officer outfit. He noticed the young man standing beyond the counter and strode up behind it, asking, "May I help you?"

The young man turned his attention to the official and asked, "You own those boats just outside?"

The dapper man nodded and explained, "I'm Joizashmo, the owner of this establishment."

"That's quite a name you've got."

Joizashmo narrowed his eyes at the man and asked, "And what might your name be?"

"Yokuba. MiracleYokuba."

Joizashmo blinked sternly. "Well, speak for yourself, MiracleYokuba. Anyway, can I interest you in a rental?"

Yokuba set his trident down against the wall and took a sack of money off his belt, right next to his dagger sheath. "Actually, I'm wondering if I could make a purchase."

"That costs extra, but we can do that," replied Joiz. "Which one strikes your fancy?"

"The yacht."

"Ohhhh, no. You can't have the yacht. That's my private ride."

Yokuba glared at Joiz, and Joiz glared back. Yokuba dropped his fat sack of coins on the counter, spilling some in the process. From what a glance could tell, there was an awful lot in there.

"I'm willing to pay whatever it takes," affirmed Yokuba.

Joiz casually took a coin and held it before a tiny microscope. After confirming that it was the real deal, he asked, "Why's your heart so set on my yacht?"

"Just 'cause."

Joiz scowled back at Yokuba before looking back at the coins. He began counting them one by one.

Nearly thirty minutes later, Yokuba was leaning back in an old chair, snoozing with his legs propped up on a table. The chair suddenly collapsed, and the young man with it. Jarred out of his sleep, Yokuba stood up and rubbed his head.

"Are you done counting them yet?" he asked of Joiz.

Joizashmo, still at the counter, set the pouch of coins down and said, "Well, with the chair you just broke, you'll have to compensate about 500. That leaves you just 40 short of buying the yacht."

"What?!?" Yokuba grabbed his trident and pointed it at Joizashmo. "You set me up! You knew I'd take a nap in that chair, didn't you?"

Joizashmo stared back, taken aback but not dumbfounded. "However, we are having a sale on the steamboat at the moment," he said as he slowly reached for a rapier he had behind the counter. "You'd be able to purchase that with this money."

"I don't want your dumb steamboat," answered Yokuba. "I want my yacht, and I'm going to get it one way or another."

- - -


Thirty minutes later, Yokuba was traveling down the lake with his brand new steamboat. He stood on the bow as it sailed off, his lips drawn in a sullen expression. Well, when life gives you lemons, you've gotta squeeze the fun out of them.

Still, it was a pretty good-looking steamboat. The rhythmic way the paddlewheels churned the water was somewhat soothing, and the boat itself wasn't too big to discredit the idea of sailing down a river. He believed he'd try just that. He turned the wheel and set the boat on course for the Locura River.

To be continued...?


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