Spooktacular Extravaganza: Let's Talk (About Me And You)

[excusemesir]

Multiple tentacles rise from the sea like cobras to a charmer, surrounding the Black Tide on all sides. The top deck is suicide.

WHAM. WHAM!

Each slaps into the hull with denting blows, again and again, until the monster decides to grip the ship with its whole self. A tentacle lashes and settles on the deck, calmed by -- a man? How did he get there? He pats the appendage for its services, and gives it a quick smooch. The tentacle rises and falls again as he steps away, slamming down onto the deck hard enough to crack into the flooring with the sheer power of its blunt force. Rain pours in, and the cacophony of the storm pollutes Deck 02. The hull screeches and vibrates with every hit, jostling the entire vessel as the monster slips inside each and every puncture it is able to make.

BOOM!

Elsewhere, an explosion is set off - Rowe’s cannons are now rendered out of order, a catastrophic chain reaction set off between them like a match thrown between fireworks. Rowe’s crew had better have a quick fix for this! The Black Tide needs a defense!

I wonder if any more explosions will go off?

BOOM!!!

Passengers are now free to leave the Pourhouse, now that a massive hole has been blown into the side of it. What are you waiting for? The best defense is a good offense, and the Black Tide needs defending. More chipmunks scamper in through the hole. Prepare yourself!

The man above deck seems unphased. His attention turns to the windows of the ship, and he steps over the tattered fake turf of the golf course from the prow with the intent of gaining entry. Talons the size of his arm unhook from the deck before him, every suction cup making a squelching 'pop' as it pulled away. He parts the monster's grip on the hull like the red sea - and each tentacle in turn comes down again behind him to do more damage, sink in harder, constrict tighter.

Behind dark sunglasses, he's got his eye on a prize, and he doesn't look terribly pleased.

Comments

[rowes]

Chipmunks are swarming her passengers. Nameless shuffle around aimlessly to avoid the debris. Fucking useless.

Her ship is falling apart around her.

When Rowe whirls around, she sees that her crew is gone. Either assisting passengers or attempting to stop the ship from sinking.

"SAM! YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT! GET US OUT OF HERE!"

[excusemesir]

"Roooowe," he hollers down empty hallways, the whine of metal and the din of thunder drowning out his voice. Chipmunks gallop around him to go to work collecting, but he holds out his hand to stop one. Obediently, it does, and crouches down for him.

The man swings one leg over the gargantuan beast and tangles his hands in its fur. Bucking it in the side with his heel, the rodent springs into action again and continues its gallop towards the Pourhouse.

It will take him to where the people are.

[rowes]

Rowe's blood boils as her orders go unanswered. Reasonably, she'd realize there was a good reason for that. Her crew were doing what they could to keep them afloat. But, as her ship is overrun with giant chipmunks in fannypacks, Rowe is not in a reasonable mood.

She is going to scream for Sam again, stomp off to find him and shake him until his head popped free from his shoulders or he did as he was told.

At least until she hears the galloping chipmunk and the silhouette of a rider. A silhouette she recognizes.

".....Yo-..." Her face burns a bright red, "YOU!"

[daddyslegacy]

Samuel had run as fast as his legs could move. They probably should have expected this was coming, but he wasn't exactly going to tell Rowe that. He knew how bad things were just by Rowe's screaming, and he stops short beside her, breathing heavily.

"Rowe-." Gasp. "I'm--"

And then he turns to face where she's looking and there he is.

"Greene."

[excusemesir]

"Hello, sweetheart," Greene spits bitterly at Rowe from atop his epic chipmunk mount.

As they idle before Rowe, the chipmunk begins washing its face, whiskers twitching and its wide eyes staring without clear focus at the chaos unfolding around it. It hungers for the taste of passengers, and to stuff them in its cheeks. It licks its paws and rubs at the whiskers around its mouth. It longs for the sweet lingering aftertaste that other creatures leave, long after it has spit them out to stash for later. Anxiously, the chipmunk fiddles with the zipper of its fannypack.

Soon...

"You know, if you weren't such a bitch, none of this would have happened," he says.

[rowes]

She wants to ring necks, roll heads. Sam and his neck are quite fortunate indeed that all of Rowe's attention is fixed on Greene and his stupid face.

"You look ridiculous." She spits.

Her jaw works furiously and her nostrils flare wide with her indignation.

"Why are you here you son of a bitch? I told you I did not want to see your face again!"

[daddyslegacy]

"If you weren't so worthless, she wouldn't have kicked you aside." He stares at the man indigently.

"And you made a mistake if you think you could take us again."

To be fair, their last run-in with Greene hadn't included a giant tentacle monster or large chipmunks, but they wouldn't give up that easy.

[excusemesir]

"Shut the fuck up, you man-gina," he hisses at Sam. "The adults are talking."

Greene reaches out and a chipmunk scampers up to him with a martini in its little paws. Without looking at it, his hand closes around the stem of the glass and he takes a sip. The chipmunk returns to its cheek stuffing duties.

"You're not being fair, Rowe," he says, and begins to tap the olive skewer against the rim of the glass. "Haven't you considered my feelings?"

He eats an olive.

[rowes]

Rowe is too angry to be flabbergasted. She should be, considering what she's staring at. But she's not. There is little Greene could do to surprise her now. Now, he just makes her angry.

"Greene, you blithering idiot, get the fuck off my ship!"

[daddyslegacy]

Man-gina? Really, Greene? What the fuck.

Samuel crosses his arms and glances at Rowe, wondering just how angry she is. Things could get uglier. A lot uglier.

[excusemesir]

"No. No!" His tone is petulant, and he's so outraged by her talking down to him like this that he dismounts to get in her face about it.

"This is really hard for me, okay!?" Greene goes on without a hint of irony, throwing his martini aside. "You think it's easy, being this intelligent and powerful and good looking, all the time? No!"

[rowes]

Greene, Rowe doesn't give a flying fuck about your problems. YOU are a problem. She jabs her finger into his chest. Hard.

"You are testing my patience," she says, eyes wide and wild and angry, "Take your shit and get off my ship. Or I will make you regret ever coming here."

[excusemesir]

"The only thing I regret is our night of passion, because obviously you don't seem to care."

Greene crosses his arms over his chest.

"Admit it, that was the most satisfying twenty seconds of your life."

[rowes]

"Go fuck yourself."

He was right. She didn't care.

"You are sinking my ship because of that? You insufferable bastard! You do realize I have your precious Puece? That is likely being crushed by your stupidity as we speak."

[excusemesir]

He begins to talk (read: yell) over her.

"No, I'm sinking your ship because of--!!"

Peuce.

Oh. This changes a few things. His demeanor changes to one that is more... reasonable.

"I think we should talk in private," Greene casts a glance over to Sam, then back to Rowe.

"Away from the cattle and the Beta-males."

[rowes]

"Fuck. You."

She stubbornly crosses her arms and glares at Sam. Don't you dare move, lickspittle.

"You are sinking my ship. Trying to carry off my passengers. I am not going anywhere with you. And if you touch me, you will lose that hand."

[daddyslegacy]

Sam isn't going anywhere. He scowls at Greene.

"If you think I would abandon my captain and let her alone with you, you're sadly mistaken."

[excusemesir]

"You blew up my yacht!!!"

Rowe warns him not to touch her, so naturally Greene grabs her by the arm and tries to lead her to another room. Onto the top deck, preferably, where she would be exposed to the elements with him... and the full wrath of the tentacles.

"You're coming with me--"

He ignores Sam completely.

[rowes]

Rowe's retort dies the minute she is seized by the arm. She jerks to free herself from while he drags her up to the top deck.

"Let me go!"

[excusemesir]

"We're gonna' go somewhere where I can neg your bitch shield down and we can talk about this like grown-ups," he snaps at Rowe, yanking on her arm.

[capn_penk]

Greene drags Rowe towards a hole in the side of the ship... but who steps out of that hole, but a smirking woman whose expression verges on a sneer. Her jacket is tightly buttoned and the only weapon in her hand is a small gun. The second she sees Greene, Penk tosses the gun over her shoulder with an exasperated sigh. The gun vanishes into thin air.

"Darling!" snaps Penk, eyes falling on Greene's hands on Rowe. "Will you please keep your mind on the mission?"

[rowes]

Rowe could hear the wind howling as the grew closer to the hole in her ship. And her rage finally surges to a peak and she brings herself closer to Greene, so she could see where the muscles and tendons connected and intertwined in his shoulder.

She is only inches away when she peers over Greene's shoulder to see Penk. She hated Penk almost as much as she hated Greene. But at least Penk was reasonable enough.

"Peuce is with the cargo," she says and finally wrenches her arm free from Greene's grasp. "Probably already on the bottom of the ocean floor."

The "and whose fault is that?" is implied.

[excusemesir]

Greene stops in his tracks, a deer in the headlights.

"My Darling," he coos, and he drops his current objective, along with Rowe's arm. Hunching, he trotted on over to this other woman, cowering to get out of trouble like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. "Captain, Captain..."

Greene positions himself so that he is behind Penk, and he peeks out at Rowe from behind her, just over her shoulder.

"Oh, you're going to get it now..." he growls spitefully at Rowe.

[capn_penk]

Penk's voice was as hard and cold as a debt collector's heart.

"Rowe, you dizzy idiot, if Peuce is harmed you know there is nothing stopping me--" and here Penk paused to look over her shoulder at Greene who gave her puppy eyes. Penk exhaled and looked back over at Rowe.

"Let's say you were so foolish you let him go to the sea floor. Let's say that happened. Why would we leave now? Now we have nothing to lose. So find him, Rowe, and find him now, before I lose my temper."

[excusemesir]

Greene offers Penk a snivelly little smile?

...And stands there in complete silence as the two adults talk things out.

[rowes]

"Peuce would not be in his current predicament were my ship not attacked."

Still, she takes Penk's point.

"Call off your beast. The cargo can be secured and with it, Peuce's safety. I promise you nothing if my ship sinks and my passengers drown. I've no reason to."

[capn_penk]

"Your passengers?!" Penk spits, lips thin with anger. She can hardly believe the arrogance of Rowe, who she thought was plenty arrogant before. "You thieving bitch, they're ours!"

She's furious, but Penk isn't stupid. She grinds her teeth. "Peuce..."

Peuce is clearly a priority.

Penk slaps the back of her hand against Greene's chest. "We're leaving."

She gives Rowe a hateful stare.

"But don't worry, we'll be back."

[rowes]

Rowe smiles, tilts her head.

"Yes, they are yours as much as my crew is Greene's."

Her smile only grows when Penk takes her refuse and starts to go.

She turns to Sam, a hand pressed delicately to his chest.

"Make sure they keep their word, pet. And when my ship is clear, get us out of here won't you? Preferably some place sunny. There's a mess to clean and we must get started, mustn't we?"

[daddyslegacy]

Samuel watches the back of Penk's head as she goes, more than a little pleased by their departure. This went a lot better than he predicted.

"Aye, Captain. We'll be there in no time."

He already has a place in mind.

[excusemesir]

Greene snarls at Rowe's comment - baring his teeth at the both of them. He has to retreat, for Peuce's sake...

...but only for now.

They still have unfinished business to discuss.

[foxytrot]

This wasn't how Iseul wanted to spend the party.

The canons had been blown to smithereens, but the explosions didn't seem related to the tentacles or the chipmunks. Someone else had to be on board to plant them.

While Rowe screamed orders and the other crew scrambled to keep order, she avoided the chaos and went hunting. They couldn't hide forever.

[reddemon]

The ship's magazine-room is quiet when Iseul enters. Whoever set the bombs is long gone... or are they? When Iseul looks up, there's a reflection in the glass: a tall figure stands behind her, wearing a demon's mask and tight-fitting black clothes. The figure seems male, given his slim hips, broad shoulders and flat chest. There's a moment where the red demon's mask tilts in the light, and then the Demon is gone down a hallway. Will you chase?

[foxytrot]

Iseul's hand is on her sword, ready to draw as soon as he made a move-- And then he was gone.

She turns gracefully on her heel, bounding quickly down the hall after him, trying to catch up, or at least keep him in her sights. Her hope is to chase him into a dead end. Then she could take care of at least one threat.

[reddemon]

The Red Demon leads her up one corridor and down the stairs, lower, lower, into the depths of the ship. Locked doors melt open before him and sometimes Iseul only catches a glimpse as the Demon rounds another corner. The soft civilian lights give way to utilitarian neon fixtures and concrete decking. The Demon sprints past crates and crates of cooking oil, bricks of salt and spices and dried foodstuffs. The towers of ship supplies form canyons and blind alleys as she pursues him.

Finally, it appears the masked man's luck has run out. He's caught in a dead end with walls too high to vault. Slowly, the Demon turns around and points at Iseul--then jerks his thumb across his neck.

[foxytrot]

Is that a threat? Iseul's not exactly impressed. But at least now's the exciting part. She unsheathes her Hwando and raises it into position. She eyes the Demon carefully and looks for any potential weapons he might have. Besides explosives, of course.

And then she nods her head slightly. It's his move.

[reddemon]

That is definitely a threat. The Red Demon unsheathes a hunting knife and whirls it around before slashing the air before himself. You're next.

The Demon sinks into a martial posture, knife in one hand, other hand spread for balance. The moment hangs between the two warriors.

The Demon charges without a sound but his booted feet hitting the decking, crossing the distance between them in an instant.

[foxytrot]

There we go. Now the party's really getting started.

She sprints forward quickly, right after him, first move to disarm him as fast as possible. And then she could probably just drag him to the brig and let Rowe take care of him.

Which isn't nearly as fun.

[reddemon]

The Red Demon brings his hand forward in a quick slash and she goes to grab his wrist. He allows that, drops one knee and his momentum slides him across the floor and under her arm. The Demon hops to his feet and keeps running. Now Iseul has a flash decision to make: hold onto his hand and get flipped onto the floor or let him run?

[foxytrot]

He was fast, and she hadn't been expecting that. Her bad.

Isuel let's him go, since the last thing she wants is to end up on the ground in a pointless attempt to hang on to him. She could catch up again, lead him somewhere he couldn't easily escape from.

She turns and runs after him.

[reddemon]

And the Red Demon continues to flee. He pauses here and there, but the second she's not paying attention, the Demon is attempting to disappear. Finally, he leaps up a staircase. Two grenades jumble down the stairs towards Isuel, rattling and beeping.

The Red Demon doesn't bother checking to see if they work. He's already hiding in the depths of the ship.

[foxytrot]

Fiddlesticks.

Iseul heard the grenades before she saw them, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let herself be blown up by them, either. She dives away and takes cover.

And when the smoke clears a fox pulls itself out of the rubble.

There was no way she could catch up with him now. Damn it.