A passing crewman saw the monstrous fellow who'd stumbled aboard before, swinging slightly in his harness as twitched and seeming to be whispering to himself, perhaps working it all out as to why he was where he was.
"Cor, so you's comin' round, are ye?" the crewman said as he stepped just close enough to not have to yell. You never could tell with people hangin' inb slings, some were right fine folk, others, well, best not to get too close. "anythin' you might be a-wantin'? I gots me own chores, but you seem in a strait patch tae me. You want I should go an' get the Cap'n or the Gigoli man, or maybe that gun'appy feller?"
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Silas walked into a small alcove in which a hatch was located, a brass plate beside it reading "Cabin 3." He pushed on the latchwheel and the just flat didn't move. Latched and unmoving. Ship's sound enough for the cabin hatches to seal right and proper, he thought. he gripped the lever behind the wheel, set into the same shaft, and pulled it to the left, then spun the wheel to the right. The long rods radiating from the latchwheel main assembly pulled their respective bolts from the top, bottom, and sides of the hatchcover. He pushed, and the hatch swung forward, pivoting at the top, revealing a ladder stair leading down into a veritable walk-in closet of a cabin. and just enough space between threshold and door-bottom to walk down normally as long as one was careful where their head was at.
On the far bulkhead, presumably the hull of the ship or at least the inner of several hulls, a porthole just barely big enough to poke his shoulder out of stood with the inner and outer covers closed. The battening and latching levers looked like they had been worked many times, which seemed to indicate teh porthole had been opened recently and often. A bunk was built into oen side of teh cabin, the mattress and bedding rolled up and bagged in a duffle, revealing the rope supension net that hung to the bunk frame from tiny coil springs.
A counter was built into the opposite wall and the chair that fit under it indicated it could be used as a desk or worktable if necessary. the bulb over the desk appeared to be the only light source in the cabin other than (possibly)the porthole. Silas put the rifle on the hooks that seemed tailor-made for it above the hatchway, and checked his reflection in the small polished steel mirror bolted to the wall over the desk. there appeared to be one of those newfangled hailer boxes mounted behind a small grille beside the door, and a well-worn and polished-looking brass switch below it. Below it a was a cabinet door with a handle at the top that Silas pulled open to reveal a rudimentary fold-out head*. it didn't smell fresh, but it didn't exactly stink, either, just sort of smelled metallic and not new. Silas closed it with a huff. He climbed back up into the alcove and closed the hatch, raising the tiny red tag on the brass number plate to show that the cabin was claimed, and then went back toward the bridge to report to the captain.
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*head: maritime term for a toilet or restroom facilities. Sometimes they include bathing options, but in Silas' cabin's case, not.