| Doing Business |
[27 Jun 2011|12:54am] |
Hob had finally decided to kill off Bertie. He'd been a good run, a chance to get out and travel some more, but he was due for an end. And that meant getting out of the business entirely so no one scrutinized young Bob for resemblance to his uncle. No interest in ships has Bob, in the States for the first time.
So now, he sat across the table from this gentleman, drinking a pint.
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| Flashback: October 1707 |
[23 Jun 2011|09:53pm] |
At least 1,450 sailors were lost in the horrible shipwreck. Well, at least 1,448, because two listed among the dead were Bob Gadleng and Daniel Shelly. And the two men clutching bits of flotsam and coughing their lungs out had signed up under those names.
Finally, after much moaning and hacking and heavy breathing, a strangled, raw voice says "So...I see you've got the hang of it, too, mate?"
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| Sir Robert Gadling |
[22 Jun 2011|08:54pm] |
In 1389, an English soldier called Hob Gadling stood in the White Horse Inn and declared that death was for suckers. He agreed to meet a pale stranger there in a hundred years for a drink.
He's been a lot of things since then. Various professions, trades, gentrifications, and states of abject poverty. He's used every possible variant of the name Robert at least thrice. He's been a husband and father many times over, but... it never lasts. No one else can understand the suggestion to just refuse to die.
Death will not come for Hob Gadling until he asks for her. And he won't.
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