Snippet #1719396

Gregson looked at the crew of misfits gathered on the ship. The crew couldn't honestly be any more diverse, in his opinion. All of the others seemed engaged in conversation with one another, leaving Gregson standing in the midst of it all with nothing to do. He hated having nothing to do. So he quickly moved away from the crowd of mercenaries and found a les busy part of the deck. He grabbed a spare crate that was nearby, removed his jacket, and pulled out a small object from his belt. it was a small barbershop pole, with alternating red and white stripes that slowly spun. the pole also had a small fold-down sign that simply read: Shave and a haircut ~ six pence. The entire rig sat upon a telescoping stand. This way, Gregson could practice his trade anywhere he went.

He quickly removed his shaving razor. The blade was razor sharp, able to split a hair. But, you could never be too sure, so Gregson used the leather strop the also hung from his belt to sharpen the blade. Once that was finished, he gave the razor a quick swing through the air, the whistle of it like music in his ears. It didn't take long before the crew noticed, and those that were not particularly busy at the moment stepped up for a shave.