The Student Can Teach - U.S.S. Freedom

It seems he had taken the gift to heart, as well as the words.  The boat, sturdy but far from attractive, was being worked upon from the inside out.  Already, rotted wood was being ripped out from the galley, fresh planks laying in piles on the deck as the shirtless Gangrel began the long task of making the boat look as pretty as the one who gave it to him.

He had just finished ripping out another chunk of the galley, tossing it into the rubbish pile. The scars that wrapped around both biceps and around his chest, markings of rope, rope that bit deep that would never fade. He was not breathing heavily, but at least he was breathing, par Toutatis. As the dogs ran pellmell around the deck, snapping at seagulls, and enjoying the evening.

People were asking if he needed help. A lot lately. If he thought his physique could change, he would have wondered if he looked sickly or ill. But such things were no longer his concern. The thick forearms leaned against the railing, as his eyes found the source of the voice. "Dat beh quite neighborly ah ya. Ya got much knowledge on electrical? ah need teh pull out de stove ahn range."

And then he could sense the Man's Beast. And something... else. The Jade eyes narrowed for a moment as the man approached, but he did not pull up the gang plank.

"Aven't seen ya 'round'ere before. Ya new?" he pushed himself up via his forearms, redoing his ponytail as he watched the man come closer.

He grunted. "Figur'd beh sumptin'like dat. Most learn teh avoid meh." a rough chuckle, as he headed down below, to where the problem electrically powered items are.

"Sumptin'bout meh deckin'stupid people." he called out from the galley, pulling out the stove with ease.

"Seems teh meh, de ones who mind it, beh de ones who deserve teh beh hit. Self preservation ahn all." he pulled the stove out and up, exposing the wiring.

"If life ain't teach me nuttin'else... is dat sum don't get sight till dey 'bout dead. If den." he just held the stove with a hand as if it didn't weight anything, using his other hand to rip off another plank of wood of the cabinet.

"Such beh life. Or unlife. Gens beh gens... living or not. Juss de undead ones got longer teh muck it up." rip, tear. Rip, tear.

"Eh, juss people in general. De beasts got it right. Live as ya beh born teh."

"See, dat mo depends on ya religion. Not all believe in original sin." his didn't, for example.

"ain't dis where ya say 'save Jesus'?" silly Christians.

"Eh, like ah said. Not mah Faith."

Ren was running a little late, she'd gotten caught up at the shop dealing with some inventory issues. Making her way to the boat she greeted the pups with...steaks. She did like to spoil them.

After tossing the food to the hungry dogs she headed for where she knew Mat would be working. "Hey, sorry I'm late...the guys ran into so problems." The French rolled easily off her tongue. She made it down the stairs and stopped dead in her tracks. "Abraham?" She sounded surprised, and happy and concerned, all in one.

"Salute, Duckie. Guess ya know'em, eh?" he continued to hold the stove, glancing at her with a warm (for him) smile.