8th Wave

[tentacruelest]

Th' next time this Barge feels like poking around in my head, I'll be keeping to my quarters. The lot of yeh - useless dregs not fit to scrub a floor. It's bad enough I'm locked in here with you, I don't need to call any of yeh friends.

[Private to Bush]

Was dealing with me yerself so difficult that you sought to work through less offensive channels, Captain?

[Private to Arthas]

A word, my king.

[Can you feel that heavy sarcasm, Arthas?]

Comments

[routemistress]

I expect you were just shy, lovey.

[tentacruelest]

More like I had the sense not to speak with you when you were madder than normal.

[routemistress]

Awww, I know it's 'ard being a sensitive lad like you are. And there's all them barnacles. I know you're just a big soft cockle underneath that 'ard shell, though.

[tentacruelest]

Think of me as soft and it will prove a fatal mistake, in the end. I might feel tempted to showcase my true cruelty.

[routemistress]

Ooooh, is that a promise, petal?

[tentacruelest]

It is.

And if you know a thing about pirates at all, you'll know that Davy Jones always keeps his promises.

[routemistress]

I shall look forward to it. Not a lot. I don't reckon you're really the creative type.

[tentacruelest]

There are only so many ways to break a spirit on a ship.

[routemistress]

It's actually bloody hilarious that you imagine you could ever break mine, you great crusty sea-trout.

[tentacruelest]

Aye. P'haps not yours.

But one of your harem of boys yeh surround yourself with; that, I could do.

[routemistress]

I doubt it very much, lovey. They're chosen with a lot more care and attention than you might think.

[tentacruelest]

It's the same with any hunter. Yeh pick the weakest, smallest one from the pack, separate him, and drag him away.

Look to your boys, Wildthyme. Which one's at most risk for being picked off?

[routemistress]

It's not what I think that's relevant, chuck; it's what you think. I don't think anyone I love's susceptible to your shenanigans. Be amusing to see who you misread badly enough to try for.

[tentacruelest]

I'll be sure to carve out their hearts and present them t'yeh. Then yeh can speak of misreading.

[routemistress]

Please. Victor's tried that already and where'd it get 'im?

Go back to stroking your organ on your own, Jones. You're boring.

[tentacruelest]

Then cease babbling to me.

[routemistress]

Aye. There's bound to be some paint I can watch drying instead.

[tentacruelest]

You were th' one that spoke to me first, woman. But perhaps I can look to make this journey a little more exciting for yeh.

[routemistress]

Gets any more exciting I might pee meself.

[She's stopped smirking, and it shows, now, how tired and hollow-eyed she looks behind it.]

Do what you like. I couldn't give a toss.

[tentacruelest]

Yeh are near enough to despair already. It's difficult to pull someone from th' brink only to cast 'em back down again.

[myironeyes]

Stop.

The more threats you make, the more people will fuss at you instead of leaving you alone.

Iris, come help me feed Aster.

[routemistress]

Despair and me 'aven't ever been on speaking terms, sunshine, not even now. Get stuffed and deepfried.

[godsays]

What is the matter with you?

Private

[shakenandlimp]

I wish you would not bait'm, Iris. I understand how it is to like him despite yourself and to want to draw him out, but he is as hurt as any of us, and an inmate besides.

private

[routemistress]

Aye. I'm sorry, Captain. I started out just teasing, like. Then I got away from meself some'ow.

I'm writing 'im an apology.