Scene #7370: Bon Homme Silver

Owner	Pose
Captain Flint	NASSAU - EARLIER December 15, 1716 "You've got a lot of balls coming to me after how you and the whore fucked me." Charles Vane is a rugged, suntanned, built pirate. His shoulder length brown hair is lightly bound at the back, but mostly falls to either side of his face, locks adorned here and there with tiny seashells and baubles, dark stubble tracing the lines of his chiseled jaw. There might, at this early hour, be a few patrons in Eleanor Guthrie's tavern, had the so-called Pirate Queen of Nassau (as she is decried in London) not reserved the place for Vane and John Silver alone. Outside, some of her trusted guards keep the drunks out--and keep an eye on the inside of the place. Vane is known to be just as prone to violence as Flint. "Well, then, let's get down to business," says Silver with a bracing smile, leaning forward. "If I recall correctly, you were out five thousand pieces of eight for that little... misunderstanding at the wrecks." "Misunderstanding?" growls Vane neutrally. He doesn't need to scowl, or to raise his voice. The stone-faced, neutral hositlity on his face is enough to convey his reaction to Silver's choice of words. Silver chuckles, nodding, before holding up a black charge card in quiet, subdued triumph before Vane. "I'll pay you fifteen. Ten for your assistance in this, and five..." Silver smiles confidently. He has a lovely smile. "Five as a first step to smoothing things over between us. Between me and you, between Flint and you... and between our two crews. Who knows? On top of a very generous payday, you might even get a few new crew members." Silver's brow raises with that last sentiment. "The fuck are you talking about?" Silver's eyes gleam with the excitement of a school kid about to share a choice secret. "Let me tell you about a plantation, in the Georgia colony, hidden well past the outskirts of Savanna..."
Captain Flint	NASSAU - NOW BGM: https://youtu.be/T4ycScFLXdQ The 'port' of Nassau is not one officially equipped with a harbor past some ramshackle docks in the shallows, where only small vessels and two-masters can anchor. The water in this part of the world is a clear and beautiful blue, the air a bracing winter coolness upon one's skin. The sun is high in the sky this afternoon, and the wind is blowing the many smells, savory and unsavory, of the port town your way. Instead, ships mostly pull into and out of the bay, and maneuver by launches--large rowboats--to and from the shore. You'll be meeting John Silver and Captain Vane on Vane's ship, the Ranger. It's a square-rigger, not unlike the Walrus. At 20 guns, it's not as heavily armed, but its three masts compared to the Walrus' two make it a faster vessel at full sail. Its crew is both one of the island's highest earners, and one of its most notoriously ill behaved. A launch can take you to the Ranger, after which you'll have five days of travel to your destination--the Georgia colony, in the New World. Amidst consternation and puzzlement from Vane, Silver has brought a barrel of dirt on board, and overturned it upon the maindeck. This is where Zero's plant is placed. He did say to make sure there was room, after all. Of particular note, besides Vane and Silver, are the Ranger's smarmy, rakish and stylishly dressed quartermaster, Jack Rackham, and a standoffish woman with red hair and a rawhide hat--Anne Bonny, one of the crew's most senior boarders. She usually sticks close to Jack, pulls him off to a private corner, or disappears somewhere to sulk. You may spend those five days getting to know the crew, planning your heist, sharpening your weapons, or otherwise preparing your heist--the ship's navigator estimates you'll arrive off the coast of the colony under cover of night. When you arrive, Vane drops anchor just past the horizon, which grants the benefit of using the curvature of the superplanet to conceal it from view of any watchmen from the plantation. The launches will similarly ferry you to the shore, which, given Rackham's suggestion to disembark closer to the plantation than to Savannah, means that you'll have not just the cover of night, but of deep forest, as well. As you pass through the forest and the night grows darker, you can make out from that forest the twinkling lights of a sparse few lanterns, snuffed out. The plantation, a gilded cage where members of troublesome families are spirited away to be forgotten in silence, is near.
Hesinca	"Avast, doods!" There's a squadron of prinnies with bandanas on, waving wooden swords (along with one prinny who didn't quite get the message right), waiting to get on the boat. "No, we're not doing that," says Hesinca. "But - but, pirates," says one of the prinnies, pleading. "I said no," says Hesinca, as she starts confiscating the various pieces of cloth and one piece of fruit. "Pleeeeaaase dooooooood?" The prinnies give her the big eyes. "... Agh, fine, more trouble than it's worth." THE GOOD: Hesinca finds a spot belowdecks to drop her base panel. This instantly essentially gives the ship an entire extra city block of room - with a restaurant, motel, spa, and an outdoor movie theater (none of which are free, but they're there) for those who don't feel like living the authentic pirate life. THE BAD: The prinnies proceed to get in the way of everything on the ship, in the name of enthusiastically 'helping'. At the end of the voyage, Hesinca muscles her way onto the first ferry going out, impatient for action.
Starbound Flotilla	George is the main one here. "Ill-behaved crew" is his people, and he has no trouble and no issue having a good time with those folks. He builds rapport while the others of the Flotilla keep to themselves -- mostly working the ship to help with the travel, or maintaining their armor and weapons. Biteblade, particularly, relishes the opportunity to prepare: She's been battle-fasting, working up a hunger to sate with fresh meat. Despite George being the closest ally to Flint, it's Albert who leads the Flotilla in battles. As usual, the gang are in their standard Durasteel equipment! Moonfin, the fishman, is in elaborate full-body durasteel armor that looks like a powered cross between a diving suit and a samurai's armor, glowing cyan at the faceplate. Biteblade, the humanoid plant, is in durasteel plating with elaborately carved wood and bone ornaments over glowing powered components that glow an intense green. Pavo the bird-girl wears a divine-aesthetic set of mesoamerican-style armor, with yellow runes and inscriptions lighting up on stylishly gleaming golden armor and robes. Albert the monkey-man is wearing what looks like lab technician gear with extensive sets of tools and chemical protection, which integrates thin, resilient plates of durasteel, and lines of bright white. George (just plain human) wears a futuristic combat EVA hardsuit that glows a gentle red at the flat faceplate. Seft, the robotic Flotilla member, is wearing full-on medieval knight armor with a soft energized blue glow below the plates on her body, and especially around the eyes. Each has a heavy industrial-yellow two-pronged plasma-cutter-like tool strapped to their side, a Matter Manipulator. The moment he sees the plantation, Albert grunts, signals to Pavo with a series of signs, and nods firmly. She takes off, dimming the gleam of her wings reluctantly as she works to scout a path. George expects to Go Loud quite quickly, so he's just looking for the best place to start that off in. Not too flanked, but deep in. Not too guarded, but worth rushing. Most of the arrangement is probably to keep people IN here, rather than OUT, after all. Moonfin and Albert work on checking over a crate of weapons they each have, a set of heavy spears and pistols, which they've brought for no particularly clear reason. That'll probably get figured out later. The Captains will make for whatever place looks best in Pavo's reckoning. They much intend to start a fight quick, rather than wait around.
Zero Kiryu	The twist of plant life that Silver brought immediately grows, quite literally constructing a planter for itself which promptly dries up into dead wood once it's done taking a proper shape. Once that's done the central plant sprouts into a tree about six feet tall, from which a number of fig-sized red fruits grow. Occasionally, noises can be heard from the tree. That is, office noises. Like it connects to someplace far, far away and occasionally the person on the other end is forgetting to turn off the receiver. Zero comes and goes from the ship, emerging casually from the "doorway" of the tree across the five days. This may or may not be punctuated by similar appearances and disappearances by Yuuki. He doesn't talk a lot, but every time he leaves and returns he makes a point of bringing what can only be described as 'pirate treats'. Which is to say, alcohol, fresh food that isn't of the kind that specifically keeps in the hold of a ship, and fresh meat that isn't fish. When the time comes, Zero waits patiently for a launch to be free and then plants another tree on the beach. Although it bears those distinctive fruits, it otherwise looks akin to any other plant that might be broadly within the vicinity. When it comes to actual operations though... Zero drifts towards George. This is because he knows these guys Have A Plan, and also that George is the one who will probably be the slowest and the steadiest. "Do you have an extraction strategy in mind?" he asks. From the sounds of it, he himself has something in mind, but he might trust what the Flotilla has schemed more than his own method.
Guzma	Guzma's arm is broken after the fight with Eryl Fairfax, but he's here anyways. He came alone - not bringing anyone on a five day trip. Hopefully, his arm is rested well at sea. During the five days, Guzma chats with people. He lives the life of a pirate - eating meat, meeting everyone he doesn't already know, and appraising Charles Vane when he gets a chance. Who is this guy? He does not drink, though. Not one sip of alcohol enters his system. When they reach the dock, Guzma takes the ferry to the beach, and takes two specially-marked Pokeballs, containing his Multiversal monsters. He sends one out, letting out Walker, the horse-sized ghostwalker spider, and climbs on the back to ride his stealthy feet towards the plantation, staying in the dark and out of the way of any lights. He wants to try and scout ahead for the group.
Yuuki Kuran	Now, to understand this next bit, we have to explain something about Yuuki Kuran: She's never been on a boat. A real sailing voyage. Certainly she's been near water, but all her memories of the sea are in a distant and far-off sense. Never upon, except perhaps to swim near shore. Open water was a mystery to her. Thus: Everyone is privy to the absolute Disney Production she brings on. She spends a whole day, like an episode of a show or a volume of a manga just interacting with one of the major characters. First is Jack - and by extension, Anne Bonny - which larely becomes a romantic comedy as Yuuki Definitely Intentionally pursues comedy setups and laughter. Quartermasters and boarders have little to do while the ship is in motion and the plan is being executed, anyway. It follows, a span of absurd 'completely insane person who has never been on a boat before', there's a shanty segment with her upon the spar swinging prinnies dangerously in a tower nobody thinks is safe, but, in the end, somehow doesn't explode all over. Which as it goes, is a real blessing. Eventually she wears out and becomes more helpful than effusive, though she does eventually try to get to Captain Vane on the fifth day. "So, Captain. How did you gather such a good crew and ship? I can see you're accomplished at finding talent." There really isn't a good time to get an answer as the Flotilla disembark, and Zero after them. "Ah. I spent all my time enjoying myself and ran out of chances to hear an answer. Talk as we go, if you like!" She calls, jumping down into the water and dog-paddling to shore like a big dumb wet idiot. "Ah, the ocean really is refreshing." She beams, stroking past a launch.
Robin Sundance	The high seas! High adventure! Action! Excitement! Treasure! "Oh la la, c'est exotique~." It's impossible to say when Robin got on board. It's entirely possible he slipped on disguised as a crewmember. There might be a member of the crew back in Nassau, stripped to his undies and tied up ith several ropes. Okay, it's not entirely possible, that's definitely the situation. But now that the anchor is dropped, and they're disembarked, that fiction is completely discarded - along with the getup. Robin is just...here, now, dressed in his usual, tugging at his rainbow scarf as it trails little particles behind him in the night. He snags one of the ropes off the mast like an expert before anyone can grab him and goes swinging over the water, landing as close to shore as he can manage - which, with his natural agility, is pretty damn close. He spreads his arms and takes a bow. "Bonsoir, mes amis~." "Je m'apelle Robin Sundance~. I have twenty-four years of age, I love flowers, and I am Masked Ranger Thief, the thief who steals back the smiles of the downtrodden~." He winks at Yuuki and Zero. Yuuki and Zero both have flowers in their hair. It's not a rose! It's a snapdragon. Deception, but graciousness. "Do forgive my intrusion, oui? But it sounded so interesting that I could not help myself. I am sure you understand!"
Captain Flint	THE VOYAGE Day One: The tree which sprouts from the ground is, at first, not received well. Vane captains a ship, not an orchard, after all--and until Zero emerges from it, there is some necessary defusing. Luckily, Silver is quite decent at that on his own, and the eloquent Jack Rackham has the unique advantage of having sailed with Vane since he was a teenager. The Pirate Treats brought forth by Zero take Vane from mollified to satisfied. It's weird--but having a pipeline of libations even for a short voyage like this one is an unprecedented delight for the crew of a sailing ship. Day Two: It is, perhaps, the third or fourth time that a prinny gets in the way of something. They have gotten in the way of Anne Bonny, sneering at a prinny who has knocked over a pot of stew the Ranger's one-eyed cook was working on. There is a whole line of angry pirates who, along with Anne, are only stopped from beating them up and down the galley by the timely and loquacious interjection of Jack Rackham. "Friends," the exquisitely mustached pirate says, holding his hands up. "Darling," he says in a quieter tone, giving Anne a meaningful look. "Our arrangement here is a temporary one. And," he says, holding up a finger over a chorus of grumbles and the grinding of Anne's teeth. "...might I add, a remarkably short round trip, assuming the raid goes well. I'm sure our little friends here mean only the best--and who better to show us the marvel of Hesinca's engineering than they? Off you go. Do enjoy the spa." He makes a condescending little shooing gesture. Day Three: Zero's repeated arrivals are met with pats on the back and 'o'eys' by the crew. Noticing that Guzma is injured, some of the crew have attempted to share their liquor with him, only to look in confusion when he refuses. Rackham is on Prinny Duty. This largely involves shepherding them away from places with promises that their 'considerable' talents are needed with 'very important' work elsewhere. Naturally, when Yuuki is goofing off with them on the spar of the mizzen, both he and Anne end up comically chasing them away, herding them like cats when they scatter. Day Four: While the prinnies aren't so popular, George is quite the opposite. Eventually, even Vane affords him a level of professional respect, granting him and his crew the occasional nod or grunt of acknowledgement. Silver seems quite impressed with this. "You know, George," says Silver conspiratorially that night over a bottle of port, "Usually he's only like that with people who paid him or drunkenly brawled with him. We should sit down when this is over," he says with that charming smile of his, "And maybe you could give me some pointers on keeping morale up. I'm no slouch--but I've had to learn as I go. It seems like you're an old hand at it." He pauses. "...not...'old' in that way." Guzma has gotten to know Rackham, and knows Anne about as well as anyone but Jack or Vane can. They've both been sailing with Vane since they were kids. Anne was a stowaway, and Vane caught them both going at it in the hold. Having been highly amused, he took them on. Vane is... quite different than Flint. He isn't an intellectual, and was never a part of any navy or anything so prestigious. According to the crew, his tactics at see are not informed by time in any such navy, but by shocking and sudden displays wherein the ship takes aggressive, dangerous angles and seeks to overwhelm with speed. In that boldness, the crew claims, there is something like invincibility. People die, yes--but the legend, the fear, is immortal.
Captain Flint	Day Five: Yuuki has settled down, taking an active approach to helping on the ship. Between her own efforts, Guzma's, and George's, the brusque raider is not as tight-lipped. "There is a place," explains Vane. "Not far from Nassau. It's deserted. But it wasn't. There was a boy there. A slave." There is a brand just below the right collarbone, which looks like a + with a circular hole in the center. Many of his crew, save a few veterans, like Anne and Jack, have this brand. "He ran. And one day... he came back. And he killed his master. ...and he told the slaves that they weren't, anymore. That there was a place ripe for the taking where they could live like kings." Robin's presence is not so badly received as he might expect. Rackham, in particular, has an appreciation for flair, being apparently quite stylishly dressed and debonair himself. The libations from Zero and the luxuries afforded by Hesinca (which aren't completely annulled by the burden of prinnies, even with the fact that they're not free) have likely dulled any tempers which would have flared up. Even Vane only levels an annoyed glare his way.
Hesinca	Fortunately, the prinnies are easily <s>tricked</s> corralled. "You're forgiven," Hesinca tells Robin immediately, "And I'm gonna go ahead and speak for everyone with the reasoning that you'd be more of a pain to get rid of."
Robin Sundance	"C'est vrai," Robin agrees cheerfully in Hesinca's direction, "It would be more trouble than it is worth."
Starbound Flotilla	On day four... "Oh, no, I'm pretty old that way. When you get knees this bad, you gotta learn to lift spirits some other ways, y'know?" George laughs and resumes his work in tandem with the other crewmen. "I got plenty of wisdom to share, if ya want it, no probs." Ashore... "Extraction strategy," He replies to Zero Kiryu with a tense smirk. "Is to wing it, honestly, but if worst comes to worst, tunneling's usually a good bet. We got plenty of options to get 'em to the boat though. Just gotta know what gets cut off as we run." He flexes each finger individually, checking the voltage of his gauntlets, and then lights up a smoke.
Zero Kiryu	Zero relocates the snapdragon to his pocket, glancing towards Yuuki and then back round towards Robin. He tilts his head slightly, but seems to make a deliberate choice to withhold evaluation of what's just transpired. Hesinca does get a slightly perturbed look as well, until his attention returns to George. He nods, "Tunneling, I can assist with. I have an alternative, but I've only been practicing it these last few days, so it may be better to reserve as an emergency option."
Guzma	When asked why he doesn't drink on Day Three, Guzma just admits he's a teetotaller. That he prefers being in control of his functions, keeping himself sharp. When he sees the marks, though, his face droops. Slavery, huh? Such a thing doesn't exist where he's from. He knows about it, but...the world is scary, and he's privileged in some ways, even if he isn't others. During the whole thing, Guzma eventually contacts Silver. This is Silver's op, right? "Once we get these people out of here, we're burning the place to the ground, right?"
Captain Flint	THE SHORE Your landing spot is a stretch of untamed beach. Vane is bold, but not stupid--to dock outside of a civilized port of call, certain measures are needed. And for fear of their concerns here growing as unmanageable as in England, the civilized parts of the colonies are heavily policed. Hesinca is indeed on the first ferry out. Ordinarily on ships like these, it's done by seniority--but on Vane's ship, might makes right even above seniority. One of the crew who tries to stop her and is walloped for his trouble is met with jeering laughter and boos as she takes his spot on the launch. As first to arrive, she is first to see the lights winking out. No doubt eagerly marching through the forest to get a better look, the plantation is definitely here. Stretched out across two square kilometers, it is small for a plantation, but it is assuredly a plantation. There are guards which patrol, but there are no palisades or anything to indicate the true nature of this place. Aside from the large estate where the owner surely resides, there are a number of housing arrangements for the 'laborers' as well as a central building likely serving as some sort of mess hall, and a stable, closer to the estate, where runners or guards must surely ride into Savannah, a few miles away. The best place to start, by George's reckoning, would be to take out the night watch, who must operate without lanterns and stick close to the laborers' housing to maintain the secrecy of the plantation, surrounded as it is by forests. From there, it would just be a matter of taking on the barracks, located towards the back of the plantation, at the owner's estate, if he really wanted to guarantee a safe escape--but of the night watch, only a fraction are even armed. It's definitely a 'gilded cage' sort of thing. Accordingly, they don't put up much of a fight at all, faced with the lightning-strike offensive the Flotilla has in mind. Vane eyeballs the tree, as he and the first of his vanguard arrive. "That's our way back. Smart." The captain nods in approval, as his vanguard begin preparing for a night raid--wrapping their faces in black cloths which show only their eyes, preparing and treating their weapons, primarily swords, daggers and the like--for quick and silent draws. They are quick to join the Flotilla--but Vane remains behind, placing a hand on Guzma's shoulder. "Right," he says, before Silver can respond with indifference. He speaks it with a kind of prejudice that must have come from experience.
Captain Flint	Scouting ahead, Guzma will see that, despite the fact that there are no lights on in the estate house, there are indeed people other than the watch who still mill about performing care for the wheat and tobacco which grow here. One of them, sewing seeds at night while the air is still cool, happens to spot him, but he hasn't raised any alarm. "Hello," he says, not remotely considering the possibility that someone might intend him or this place harm. "My name is Thomas. May I help you? Ah... if you're looking for the estate master, I'm afraid he's likely gone to bed..." His tone is polite and helpful--but he looks tired. Sad. He has short hair which might be blonde; hard to tell in the darkness, and his accent is tinged with the distant memory of a privileged life. Yuuki, swimming past the launches, gets a few strange looks and even an offer of assistance into one. Passing Rackham's, the quartermaster blinks, but shakes his head, writing it off as more eccentricity. "Thanks to Hesinca, there's probably enough room in the hold to take all of these men," says Rackham. "So if you're uncertain you can find this... Thomas... I believe we certainly have the means to ransack the place completely and sort it out later." As it so happens, his assessment is correct. The taking of this place is child's play for a crew of seasoned raiders, a demon queen, two vampires, a Pokemon trainer, a Thief who steals back joy, and team of space pioneers who are themselves experienced raiders. Secrecy, not fortification, is its defense. And so, whether it's just Thomas (and all the men Vane's crew deign to free) or the whole camp, getting them back to the shore and on board is exceedingly easy. That just leaves the journey back... Vane makes an aside to Hesinca. "My men pay from their shares," he says of her luxuries. "But any of the ones we took--I'll pay their way."
Hesinca	Hesinca gives Vane a look of consideration when she's pulled aside. "Teach them something," she says. "Hold a seminar on... oh, I don't know. Piratey revenge. How to steal. The proper way to make molotovs or cheat on their taxes or something similarly sinful that'll appeal to a bunch of downtrodden." "You do that, their room and board is free."
Guzma	As soon as Guzma reaches near the plantation and sees Thomas sewing seeds, he takes a moment, blinks owlishly after hearing his name, and then grins. "Thomas? Good. My name is Guzma, and I was sent by James McGraw - now known as Captain James Flint - to get you and everyone else being treated as less than human by the actual garbage out of here. There's a ship at the beach. If you can get there on your own, do it, otherwise, the Concord has it handled." A pause, as Guzma asks one more question. "If you're not too shocked out of your mind, tell me how many of you there are, and where you all are probably located. We're getting you people safe and free again." Once he either has the information or yelling or anything, Guzma immediately gestures his spider to push forward and start wrangling people to the ship.
Starbound Flotilla	"I see night-watch patrols near the laborer housing. Not much blessed with light out there, 'cause of the secrecy here. Could strobe-and-smite to take 'em down." "Coordinate a steady-pace rush, starting at outer laborer residence, moving towards barracks. Solid pressure, blades on." "Let us strike with righteous determination. Sixth Sea Style: Unwarned Flood." "Floran hungerrrrrsssss!" "Determined. We're ready for the showoff protocol." "Heyyy, my favorite protocol! And not even for the showing-off part!" The best and most effective way to get people to trust you is to find them when they're at their most vulnerable and give them guns. It works for the CIA, and it can work for you, too, even if you have the best of intentions. George ingratiates himself with the group by giving them a sense of control over their lives again, in the form of Moonfin's easy-to-use blades and Albert's simple, functional firearms. These are mass-production un-powered models, but they're definitely better than nothing for someone who feels like they've lost control of their lives. They take it easy on the guards when it seems clear that someone might want to do a little work of their own, in fact. It helps to recognize and understand the narrative here. It helps, additionally, to embrace it, and seek to be on the optimal side. When they're back aboard, George does what he did before as well: Helping. Primarily in food preparation now, because it's hard to hate a guy who comes around wtih a nice meal. Zero's supplies help with that, and sometimes it's easier to purchase directly from Hesinca's base tile. But overall, it's another effort to ease the pain of sudden lifestyle transitions amid chaotic control dynamics.
Robin Sundance	The whole place is fascinating. The world Robin comes from doesn't have places like this - or at least not places humans are allowed to go. Places bristling in green and wildness are the demesne of things that lived before humankind ever did, or of those who transform themselves for the sake of some misguided anti-human ideal. This greenery, this foliage, is unprecedented in his life. Flowers, sure; you can grow flowers anywhere. But wilderness? And he reacts to it in exactly that way. He picks some samples. He takes little bits, on the way, things he might be able to replant later. Robin reacts to each plant as if it's a treasure all its own. When they arrive at camp, Robin doesn't give a damn what Vane's men care about. He's freeing everyone. The Rifler (apparently he can use it outside his transformed mode! Huh!) destroys bindings. True to his word, Robin gives a smile, a pat, and hope, urging them onwards with good-natured and infectious cheer. The look in his eyes says he's not playing a game despite that cheer, despite that smile. He is remarkably nonviolent about it, too - he's good enough to just work around the various people the Concord is knocking out or killing. Sure, he could kill them, and he wouldn't feel especially bad about it (they are slavers, and slavers are slavers no matter the species), but he's more useful as a stealth operative than as more guns on the field. When they get back on board, Robin settles on the side of the boat and starts kicking his feet back and forth cheerfully.
Zero Kiryu	Captain Vane gets a nod of confirmation in response to his observation. Zero doesn't elaborate on how little he's used it this way any further; it's a trick that only recently occurred to him. He's gone through some serious physical changes over the last two years. Zero does not advance directly. He doesn't have to; he can smell the plantation in the distance, and the dark poses no difficulty to his sight. Instead he sows seeds among the edge of the forest, and begins to grow them in the direction of the plantation itself. They emphasize the path of the Flotilla, snakelike vines growing unnaturally fast and ceasing at the border of the plantation itself. A mist of soporifics are given off by the plants, drifting across the plantation on the wind, lulling anyone who is dosed with too much of it into a comfortable rest. If a particularly speedy egress is needed, strategic elements of the plants will grow upwards and bridge into each other to provide egress onto either the beach of the deck of the ship depending on the necessary speed of the departure; if their overall operation is too blown, it's the deck of the ship. If they have time, it's the beach. The man himself accompanies Yuuki wherever she happens to go, prioritizing his action through the vines rather than direct contact. Once they've extracted, most of the vines wither and die-- most, but not all. The tree on the beach remains, as do several roots among the forest. No need to burn all assets here.
Captain Flint	Guzma's up-front explanation causes Thomas to drop his sickle. "James... Flint? I..." He laughs breathlessly, quietly, torn between elation, shock, confusion and anxiety. Ten years of sadness slowly thaw from his face, as tears stream down his cheeks. "Flint? Why...?" He shakes his head. "I... and you'll take us with you? Just like that?" Wiping his tears with the sleeve of his sweat-stained shirt, the disowned son of the Hamilton line eventually nods. "Alright... I'll go with you. There are thirty of us in all. Only a few of us are awake right now, tilling like I am. The rest are in the quarters." ........... THE RETURN: It's midnight on the third day. The men you've rescued are enjoying free room and board, courtesy of Vane's willingness to show them how to fight, to stir up their emotions. Not everyone is on board with it--but the thing about being sold out by your family and disappeared, sent away from everyone you know and loved, having lives of relative pristige torn away from you for the violation of some social more or other, is that it tends to engender resentment. Considering the man this is in service of, that should come as no surprise. More men are on board with it than otherwise. Thomas, notably, isn't--but doesn't seem to begrudge the others their vengeance, and he's taken to the introductory sword lessons with aplomb. Most everyone but the night watch and the night owls are sleeping. Until there is a cry, starting from the crow's nest, which then spreads across the ship like wildfire. "SAILS!" cries Mr. Mullens, the sharpshooter. Out from the captain's cabin comes Vane. "Colors?" "English!" A back-and-forth between Vane and Mullens reveals that it's the Swallow--a ship of the Royal Navy, formerly docked, you guessed it, in Savannah. Robin not giving a damn about what Vane's crew wants doesn't bother them or him--because the one takeaway from this is that Vane despises indentured servitude, slavery, forced labor of any kind. As such, it is Robin that he comes to with a request. "You're good at keeping a low profile. Can you do that in the middle of a fight?" The Swallow outguns the Ranger by 30 cannons, according to Mullens, and sailing that intercept course, they'll be in firing range inside of twenty minutes. She might survive one broadside at range, but... the less cannons they have, the better. Apparently, the captain of the Swallow follows the same strategy as Vane: charge headlong into danger. Ship to ship, there is an advantage for the Swallow. But their crew is in unfamiliar territory: they're not Royal Navy like the ship and her captain, they're Colonial Marines, unaccustomed to fighting. And you, well... you could all do a lot of damage in boarding range. Their request to board over a multiversally sourced bullhorn is ignored. Rather... it is answered, but not verbally. Vane opens fire first, taking the crew by surprise, then coming about to reduce the ship's profile and protect the crew from the better-armed ship's broadside. As the Swallow returns fire, commands are screamed over the din of cannonballs crashing into the deck, sending razor-sharp splinters of wood flying, knocking crew off their feet.
Robin Sundance	"Non, monsieur, I am afraid not," Robin says to Vane, "Desolee, mais, you will understand in short order." The cannons roar. The ship shakes. The waves splash. The whole place rocks and rolls, bumping up and down, rolling this way and that. Robin has to hook the Rifler into the mast to avoid being flung off when a particularly brutal hit lands much too close. "Bracing," Robin manages, "Mais perhaps...a bit uncomfortable, non?" Anyone else who happens to fall sideways he catches as the ship starts righting itself. Robin hops upwards, landing on the mast. He produces the Vaulder. He pushes the key in. He spins the handle. "Transform!" B-B-B-BURGLAR! Thief is already falling as the armor builds around him. The black bodysuit. The black coattails. The red-and-gold gauntlets and boots. The gold key antennae. The emerald eyes. He lands and takes a bow. "Masked Ranger, Thief." "The thief who steals back the smiles of the downtrodden!" And with that, he raises the Rifler and fires at the enemy ship's mast. The grappling hook hooks. A tug, and Thief is soaring over to the enemy ship like a proper swashbuckler. Again, he lands atop the mast. "Mais, I think I need something more appropriate, non?" He spins the keyring into his fingers, selects the fourth key, and slams it into the side of the Vaulder. A spin. P-P-P-PIRATE! The coattails go red and gold. The boots go black and gold. The gauntlets gain a white band around the wrists, like a ruffle. The key-shaped antenna fold forward into an X. The mask goes white. The eyepieces turn opal-black. Thief splits the Rifler in half as he runs down the rigging. One side he snaps taut; the grappling hook flattens out like a cutlass. The other side he raises and fires, lasers raining down from the one-handed weapon. He's moving in to clear a landing space for everyone else as fast as possible, to help take out as many cannons as he can.
Zero Kiryu	Zero Kiryu is not a sailor. He doesn't know how to conduct war between two ships, and he doesn't know that well how to protect this ship. What he does know, however, is that wooden sailing vessels really do not like fire. A cannonball catches him on the shoulder -- directly, yes -- and he's pushed backwards as if a particularly large man had struck him, but the ball itself shatters against his flesh and 'merely' leaves a formidable-looking bruise while sending shrapnel bouncing off of him and into the surroundings like a grenade had gone off. He turns around and descends under-decks of Vane's ship, following his nose. Lanterns, oil. As soon as he's found some he takes several containers of oil, douses himself in them, and then leaves with a lit lantern in hand-- holding it at sufficient length not to ignite himself just yet. Once back on deck, he slings a vine that protrudes from his arm towards the middle mast of the Swallow and vanishes, re-appearing at the point of contact and dropping onto the deck. He smashes the lantern on himself and begins to burn-- but it doesn't seem to be doing very much to HIM personally. Then he simply walks down into the belly of the ship like he owns it and lets the fire start handling things itself.
Hesinca	Hesinca is pleased. 'Fighting' isn't inherently sinful, but it's a gateway to future sins. If you know how to throw a punch, you're more likely to throw another punch, etcetera. Especially if life has punched you first. She's resting on deck - having forced the prinnies to make her a hammock that can both fit her size and hold her weight - when the call of English sails is heard. "That's nice," she says, and doesn't get that it's not in fact nice until the cannonballs are flying. "Oh what the - sea combat, what a pain," she says. "I preferred when we were auto-winning against the fort we came to plunder. You!" She's grabbed a random passing prinny. "MAGICHANGE!" she yells at it. The prinny starts warping in her hands - changing into a large, prinny-themed bow and arrow set, which the demon immediately nocks an arrow to and takes aim. (The transformation scene is not nearly as impressive as Robin's. Mostly it just looks painful.) "Here we go - teach them to fight us, will they?" she says, taking aim and starting to fire a barrage of explosive prinny arrows. "And you!" she yells at another prinny. "Go get the base panel and bring it here!"
Guzma	As they travel, and the cannonballs hit the ship, Guzma braces, nearly getting knocked over. He makes it topside rapidly, his arm healing much better but still kinda useless, and grabs the other specially-marked ball. He then grabs Masquerain's ball, and releases it. The little flying bug picks up the specially-marked ball... Flies it over to the other ship... And drops it right on its release, before flying back and being put back in its own ball. This means that there is a giant, angry, armored dark scorpion suddenly awakening in the middle of the English ship. It's hungry, too, being a vampire. The vampire scorpion immediately moves to the nearest target - especially any that are bloodied - and moves to try and rip them apart with stingers, draining their blood and injecting debilitating scorpion poison. From afar, Guzma squints. He can't see shit. "I think he's doing a good job of tearing the cannons apart, yo!"
Starbound Flotilla	"Star Squad! Deploy, deploy, deploy! Battlestations, and ready to board!" "The hell...?! How'd they catch up?" "Strained. They must have had their own monitoring of the plantation!" "Let us scar these eyes, such that they may never see again!" "Floran ssstill hungry!!" "Hahaha, nostalgic! Alright, let's show 'em why this heresy was a bad idea!" The Flotilla slam their armor on fast and get to work, fast-fashioning some superior munitions for Vale's cannons, slamming a few armor plates into place, and generally readying up. Still, the gang are slammed about by the barrage, and find themselves ending it focused and ready to strike. George lights his cigarette on one of the cannon fuses, closes his helmet dramatically, and flicks his armor's microthrusters in preparation for the big jump. "Focused. Arc calculated. Charge the megajump! We'll be able to make it!" "Star Squad. deploy in five... four... three..." Once the ships are at a highly specific, calculated distance that Seft has determined, all the Flotilla members leap high, in a broad arc, and come down hard on the deck. They were charging jump capacitors for at least thirty seconds, and the launch has to be timed so that they don't all do it at once and rock the boat. When they land, it's timed so they all do at once, at almost the same place. The intent, of course, is to human-cannonball a segment of the upper deck and slam into the midsection of the ship, where they can get to work. "Hey guys! Routine ship inspection! Heard you were puttin' this boat into dumbass waters, just wanna make sure you've got an ounce of sense aboard!" George calls out, before letting loose with his incendiary grenades.
Yuuki Kuran	The entire operation is one that's, frankly, perfect. Barely done swimming ashore and wringing out her coat to satisfaction and Guzma is leading the man they had come to collect back to the boats and the whole thing over in a complete anticlimax. "Great!" Yuuki claps, sliding back on her black coat and fanning her hair back over the shoulders of it so she isn't wearing a wet jacket OVER her hair. "I'm glad we're getting what we paid for. This is the best!" LATER, AS A CANNONBALL EXPLODES THE RAILING BESIDES HER: "Captain, I think I understand, now, what was meant by the feeling of invincibility. Still, I'd prefer everyone here be properly rewarded for an excellent heist, and I have some..." She tilts her head and smiles with a meanacing emptiness of humor to her tone. "... business to work out? With the English crown?" Then Yuuki, white coated and flowerless, just hangs out with Captain Vane and intermittently dusts wood powder and splashes of off her completely unflappable outfit. Second Yuuki, meanwhile, appears on the other ship black coated and with a flower in her hair that has wilted past beauty in the time spent on the trip in a puff of smoke. Without slowing down, she kicks someone out of the crow's nest and starts climbing up to retrieve the flags off the mast and drag them down to the deck. "These colors aren't allowed to test ours!" Shollers, clearly in the mood. Across the boats, First Yuuki, in white, looks moderately embarrased for her 'other self's' escapades in boarding.
Captain Flint	Rackham is nearly thrown overboard, his grip weakening for a nasty shred of wood stuck into his hand as he tries to pull himself back onto the quarterdeck. Robin is there to pull him back up. "Merci," he pants with a nod, before relaying an order from Vane. Something about preparing to board. Robin isn't the only one who's had that idea--but where he fires a grapnel from across the engagement, Vane's vanguard leap off of the port side of the ship, taking advantage of the chaos and darkness to swim beneath the Ranger, and silently, stealthily cross the waters between the two ships. "That's suicide," says Silver with an aghast expression, lowering some sort of sleek, beige battle rifle sourced from a world far more modern than this. "That's my vanguard," rumbles Vane. "PORT GUNS AT THE READY!"
Captain Flint	Robin's lasers clear the deck for landing pretty quickly, because these men aren't used to them and they scatter accordingly. However, they're quite eager to fight back, forming firing lines on the deck with hurried urgency, and blasting at him with muskets! Crossing the distance between two ships with a vine and setting a fire on board the Swallow, Zero's 'use myself as kindling' strategy starts a panic aboard the ship, as men race past the vampire who survived a direct hit, batting out the flames, while two marines attempt to stab him with bayonettes, the vampire quickly swarmed by soldiers attempting to overwhelm him with numbers. Yuuki joins in on attempting to set the blaze, and is more successful, burning up the standard of the Royal Navy. The captain of the Swallow, and one of a few Navy personnel on board, takes offense, and draws his officer's flintlock to attempt to shoot her down! With a crack, a shot races towards her. Following a transformation that absolutely none of the Ranger's crew will object to, given opinion on the prinnies, Hesinca looses explosive arrows on the Swallow. They tear through the sails, but the movement of the ship is still enough to push them off course. In the crow's nest of the Swallow, a sharpshooter challenges her to a duel, attempting to take potshots at her from his vantage point. A man with a laser and colorful armor, the Colonial Marines can somewhat contextualize. Fire from Zero, and exploding arrows, also, to some extent. No one was expecting a vampire scorpion. Guzma had presumably intended him to go after the cannons. However... Vlad used instead, Murder! After one marine is drained dry in the melee, the others draw their swords and attempt to pierce the vampire arachnid's chitin. Unexpected, but respected.
Captain Flint	On the Ranger's gundecks, the ten port cannons are rapidly improved by the Flotilla. Vane, conscious of his men in the water, of Robin and of Guzma's scorpion, orders specific guns to fire, and Rackham relays the orders, down the chain, until the boatswain is yelling them down the stairs to the gun crew. They specifically target the helm, located just before the quarterdeck. Thanks to the Flotilla, the cannons are both more impactful and more accurate, minimizing the risk of incidental friendly fire. They collide against the midsection of the maindeck, splinters from their landing spraying into the crowd of marines attempting to bayonet them. Their incendiary grenades are hurriedly dealt with just as Zero's was, and the captain, fresh from having fired his pistol at Yuuki, draws his saber and charges, launching into a flurry of blows towards the Flotilla, utterly confident in his ability to take both them on--even with the risk that Yuuki might join in from above.
Guzma	Men with sabers come to stab the scorpion. It works, in that they stab into his armor as Guzma takes cover on the other ship, with the armor piercing. The problem... Is that while it is definitely hurt, the armor patches up. Sews itself back together as the scorpion feeds. And then, the scorpion feeds again. It moves to pick up one guy, drain him as much as possible, and then slam him into another guy, before spinning around to do mass amounts of damage and basically just poison anyone possible. Guzma grabs a pair of binoculars and starts watching the action, missing all the murder. "You guys alright?!"
Zero Kiryu	Stabbing Zero Kiryu with bayonettes is rather more effective than actually attempting to bodily stop him. His body chips and cracks, like solid stone being struck with metal implements, small droplets of blood appearing here and there-- not enough, not enough for what they're doing to him, but enough to tell that some measure of progress is being made. The fire he set to himself is hardly doing anything at all, except scorching the surface of his body. Contrariwise, stopping him from moving is impossible. It's not merely that "a dozen men piled atop him" couldn't do it, but that no amount of men of above-average but still human physique would be enough, and even true supermen would have to really and sincerely try. He pushes forward, the bayonettes giving more -- not all, but more -- than his flesh does. "You should get to safety," he suggests to the men attacking him, psionically. Zero doubts he could convince them to 'leave him alone', but that sort of command ties enough into self-preservation instincts that he thinks it could work.
Hesinca	Hesinca gets shot at. The shots just sort of... ping off of her armor. Technically they're doing damage, they're just denting it. This will eventually kill her, but presumably the fight will end long before that point. "I think you're being challenged to a duel, dood," says one of the prinnies. "Man, screw that, I didn't take weapon mastery," says Hesinca. "I'm gonna deal with it the quick way." She shifts her prinny-bow's grip to one hand, and pulls out a megaphone. "HEY!" she calls up. "GUY SHOOTING AT ME! JUMP INTO THE WATER!" Then she goes back to just shooting arrows. "Got the base panel, dood!" calls a prinny, running up to her, holding the glowing floor tile. "Good, get ready to hand it to me, gotta wait for the right moment..."
Starbound Flotilla	"Blades, blades, heat close!" "Haruto!" "First Sea Hylotl Style: Unyielding Shore!" Albert's just now getting up from his landing when the blade arcs at him. His riot shield isn't going to be up in time! Until, suddenly, it doesn't need to be: With a titanic crash, Moonfin moves to parry the blows. Two hefty hyperglass pylons jut out from the armor over his shoulders, and his blade seems to accelerate to unthinkable speeds as he rushes to intercept every strike over and over. This one threat, specifically, he can handle. "Formation! Pull in, spread blades, high heat, full-clock!" "Yes sir!" "Yesss sir!" "Aye aye!" "Focused. Yes, sir!" "Gotcha." The display of coordination is as much about morale-impact, like Zero's, as it is about melee rumbling, like Guzma's team, with a side of working to help drive people out of any reliable cover from Hesinca's arrows. Except for George, who rushes as fast as he can, teaming up with Moonfin, to try to deliver a shock-infused grapple to the captain's back.
Robin Sundance	Thief is fast. That's not what's actually saving him, though. He's fast enough to dodge bullets but not fast enough to dodge a firing line. What's actually saving him is that he's good at predicting where people are about to fire. Thief blinks in and out amongst the firing line. He disappears, reappears, disappears, reappears, a nonstop flash-step flicker. He cleaves through one of the men with his grappling-hook cutlass. He shoots another through the chest with the laser pistol. He- -gets shot in the shoulder by two more shots. There's no blood (on the armor), but there's a spray of sparks. Thief fumbles backwards. Another pair of shots get him in the chest. Another spray of sparks, and another stumble. The musketballs are no joke. Thief uses the momentum well. He falls backwards from the second hit very much on purpose. His hands hit the slippery deck. He uses that, too. He slips backwards, bringing his legs down onto one of the marines. It brings the man down under him. He whirls upwards to throw the man into the rest of the firing line and buy him a second to return the Rifler Cutlass and Pistol to his hand. At which point, he snaps the cutlass out. It breaks in half. Oh, right, the cutlass is still a grappling hook. The blade goes snapping outwards, dancing through the air. Thief turns it left to catch the feet of the firing line and yank their legs out from under them - hopefully sending them skidding over to Zero, who can take care of the problem a lot faster than he can.
Yuuki Kuran	The bullet certainly flies true, shot directly at the black-coated and colors-dragging Yuuki, flame licking the balled-up cloth. It impacts, and the dry flower in her hair explodes-- And nothing else. She reacts more like swatting at something buzzing at her ear, stopped still for a moment in all the chaos. Her hand paws at the air where her flowe had been. She frowns, turning to the gunman and waggling her finger at him with a click of the tongue that he hears in his head. A butterfly, entirely out of season and certainly out of place on the deck of a ship, lands on the gun's tip. When she drops, out of the air to jump the man who absolutely expects her to jump him, landing next to him baton in hand as she playfully 'slashes' at him. The angry distortion shriek of kinetic force hammering into him, and then down into the deck of the ship beneath him, splits like a sonic boom. "If you wish to die for your country so badly..." She mutters sadly.
Captain Flint	Robin's grappling hook pulls the firing line off of their feet--but the marines aren't the only soldiers on board. Two distressingly stubborn Navy sailors draw their swords and attempt to tag-team him, keeping him off of the marines while they reload. Their enthusiasm and determination is carrying them entirely, apparently abandoning the practiced form that the captain prefers, in favor of brute strength and wild swings. Guzma's scorpion regens past the damage and continues picking off the defenders. It's super effective! No matter how many of them step in to try and get rid of Vlad, one by one, they're picked off, drained, and tossed aside. Eventually, Guzma will spy through those binoculars that someone has gotten the bright idea of trying to tangle the scorpion up! Tossing a weighted grapnel net over it--the kind usually used for boarding in an engagement--a pair of marines quickly take to clubbing it with the butts of their rifles as their surviving fellows hastily reload! Moonfin locks blades with the captain. Dressed in the blues, greys and white of the Royal Navy, his saber gleams as he employs his form of classical mastery against Moonfin's own. His eyes are locked on the lights of the Hylotl's helmet, never wavering in their determination. With his one saber, he is relentless, he is elegant, and no amount of parries from Moonfin seems to discourage him, even as sweat from exertion begins to trickle down his face. The single cutting plane of his blade is masterfully used, but he can't secure an advantage. Moreover, his complete attention must be on Moonfin--which is why George's attack takes him by surprise, shock gloves grasping him and inducing a painful seizure as the back of his coat begins to smoke. Marshalling sheer stubborn willpower, he launches a sharp elbow followed by a foot stomp and a shoulder check to force George off balance and away. "Take this ship over my dead body," he spits through gritted teeth, darting forward to get both Moonfin and George into his vision, keeping his guard at the level of his eye. Thrust, slash, thrust, pommel bash, a kick aimed at Moonfin's center of mass. He carefully manages his exertion, his every move calculated and collected. "And take your cargo knowing you steal a precious chance for a less cruel world." So that's what he's after--that's what he's willing to die for, Yuuki will note. His country, somehow, he felt would benefit from those men's imprisonment. He believes that plantation was somehow a force for good? Her baton catches his guard--but skill alone can only take one so far. The sheer force of her blow drives him to his knee and then breaks it. Still, forcibly bowed, he is driven beneath the maindeck and into the upper gundeck. She can see into the darkness below--he still hasn't given up, even broken as he is--the still packs the pistol, still aims it, still fires, collapsing before Zero in a spent heap. Zero suggests the men get to safety after tanking the bayonets. They're making progress, but not enough to get rid of him without packing a lunch. Some of them run upstairs, urged by his legendary fortitude and the sight of the slain captain crashing through the deck. This infuriates the redcoat who seems to be their commanding officer, who actually opens fire on his own men, a single one among their number falling. "Get back and fight!" They don't. Most of the ones who were fighting Zero, Guzma will see jumping overboard. The flames spread--and with just one marine remaining belowdecks, there's nothing he can do to stop it from spreading to the black powder. The gun crew on the starboard side of the ship is blasted backwards, thousands of dollars worth of cannons sliding into the sea amidst a cheer from the Ranger crew.
Captain Flint	Hesinca makes more than a suggestion. A command. The sharpshooter jumps into the water all the way from the crow's nest. Unlike the marines, he doesn't quite make it, and impacts the railing of the ship, falling limply into the water. He's probably dead. The Swallow comes about, but owing to the explosion on the gundeck, only about half of the twenty-gun broadside can be brought against the Ranger. "BRACE!" bellows Vane, as cannonballs begin to rain down on the square-rigger, one headed straight for Hesinca's position.
Guzma	As Guzma gets his binoculars, he notices Vlad is killing things. Oh no! He grimaces and recoils a bit, but keeps looking. He needs to stop this, but how... Oh, they threw a net over vlad. And started clubbing him in the head. And are basically beating the shit out of the scorpion. Well, he needs help, before he freaks out more. "Scizor. Go." The red metal mantis is called out, and dashes with blurring speed over to the other ship. As the marines are about to take another whack at Vlad, a metal pincher comes in, blocks it, and then moves to rip the guns out of their hands and slam them back into them, staggering them back forcefully. It's actually pretty painful and powerful, but Scizor's using non-lethal force. After the first blow, Scizor points at their metal body, and then at the sea, and back. It's very obviously 'you have a choice, jump or fight'. And if they do nothing, Scizor starts throwing them into the water!
Robin Sundance	Unpredictable movement is something Thief has a lot of experience dealing with. When the two come in, he whirls around, using the Rifler Pistol as a blunt weapon. He directs their force around him. He flows the attacks around him. His fighting style is not acrobatic nor evasive, but circular, wheeling. It's a ballet in action. His coat-tails flow. Red and gold glitter in the light of the cannonfire. His feet catch on one of the pins in the rigging. Flick. It goes flying into one of the men. The rigging swings down. The mast swings around to club the other. Thief hops up onto the mask and rides it around once- -only to get caught by another round of shots from the reloaded marines. He hits the ground in another shower of sparks. There's a groan. "Not an excellent first showing on a ship," Thief manages around all the battle. He rolls to the side as a man comes down at him with a blade. His foot whips around to stamp the blade into the ship - and in the process, push himself up, hop him over his aggressor, and land on the other side. "Mais, I suppose at this point I have nothing else to do." Thief removes the Pirate Breaking Key from the Vaulder. Loud alarms start blaring. Red lights strobe along the belt. The door starts to turn. He slams the Breaking Key into the back of the Rifler Cutlass and turns it twice. F-F-F-FREEBOOTING! The door vault locks in place. The Rifler weapons start to glow. White light traces skull-and-crossbones symbols in front of the two weapons as Thief draws them across his chest in a cross. His head bows. MASQUERAID! Thief swings the blade as he fires the pistol. The two skull-and-crossbones symbols crash together. They merge into a ghostly, raging pirate ship, punching straight through the lines and dispersing off into the air in a flashy, elegant finishing attack. The Vaulder door abruptly slams closed and the flashing lights and alarms die.
Starbound Flotilla	"Take this ship over my dead body," "That's the plan!" "And take your cargo knowing you steal a precious chance for a less cruel world." "Oh, eat shit, redshirt, doin' a million medium bad deeds doesn't add up to one big good one-- OOF." George is slammed back, but he rolls so hard with the blow that he's able to convert it to a series of dynamic, stylish flips that crackle his knee joints like sugary breakfast. He skids back on two soles and a clenching fist over damaged deck. He brings a fist back, draws a heavy baton, and rushes in, darting amongst Moonfin's blade-strikes. The two move as one, a coordination brought out by twn years or more of knowing each other as foe and as friend. "You're tradin' -- Hhhhh! -- political prisoners as slaves, and pal, maybe ya got some ends to justify those means, but -- Ghhhk! -- it turns out 'kill all slavers' is a means that's got some great ends too!" The baton lashes out with arcing electricity with each swipe and thrust, trying to shock the man down for a potential kill while Moonfin lashes out with more deadly blades to occupy defenses and defend against the counterattacks.
Zero Kiryu	It probably wasn't a good idea to light himself on fire and walk into the powder room, but at the very least Zero Kiryu knows for certain that it wouldn't actually kill him to do so. Or more accurately, he knows that it wouldn't keep him dead. The fire on his body spreads and sparks onto the powder that he's standing right next to-- at approximately the same time as a the redcoat commander below-decks turns his gun and fires at him. The ship gapes open at his back and he's blown forward, his whole back crackling and burning and flaking apart like stone subjected to explosive force. In this brief moment of vulnerability, the ball fired from a gun manages to worm its way into his chest. Zero crumples to the ground face-down, a crystalline dust dancing away from his body in sheets. If he were an ordinary vampire he would continue to crystallize and disentigrate; if he were an ordinary vampire, even a ball to his heart would be enough to finish him for good. That eventuality progresses for a short while, his extremities adopting the texture of marble and beginning to erode away. Then it stops, just a bit up his forearm. Bone and muscle reconstruct in fast-forward. Rocky, shattered skin pulls itself back together and the damage that appeared to be totally decisive and quits is undone. Zero stands up, a rocky crystalline shell falling away from his body as if he was some sort of strange creature shedding its skin. Where the damage was most severe looks exceptionally pale and aggravated, and his eyes gleam a bloody red. That's not because he's angry or doing it to be intimidating, he's just hungry. A series of vines, far less benign-looking than the plants he had previously made, lance out from his outstretched right arm and grasp at the firing officer, spreading and engulfing like kudzu, thorny protrusions pushing out and seeking his veins until they too begin to sprout their own minuscule branches that propagate rapidly through his circulatory system and, in short, endeavor very powerfully to just Remove All Of That Blood. Simultaneously, from Zero's back, plant life begins to spread across the damaged portions of the ship, patching it so that it doesn't simply sink around him.
Yuuki Kuran	The captain's words fail to convince a single person on deck, and they are direly comedic to the Director in the black coat. An arm comes up to block his slashes, actually braced this time, the rancid strength of his ideals finding some negligible purchase on her before the wound smooths over. "You had so many chances to save your life, that I really have to think you want to spend it here, for those reasons. Okay." George's squinting eyes cut-in like a lightning bolt as he swings in with his baton, followed by a second as Yuuki follows him with a perfect, flowing awareness of his motions, each swipe of her baton striking with bursts of organ-pulping kinetic force.
Captain Flint	The captain isn't the only one to have heard George's condemnation. It's true--the men tucked away in Hesinca's compartment aboard the ranger were, essentially, slaves. Not that it would make a difference to most of the men on this ship--not counting proximity to Multiversal actors accelerating social progress, slavery won't be illegal on this world's England for over a hundred years. The men on the Ranger, owing to their privileged births, have enjoyed much fairer treatment than the average slave, but were slaves nonetheless--the only other difference between them is the equally unjustifiable reason given for their enslavement. And as such things normally go, the individuals tasked with upholding such atrocious ideas quickly change their tune when it becomes apparent that they might personally come to harm for it. Almost completely routed from Zero's arson, Guzma's monstrous scorpion, Thief's spectacular budget-blowing CGI finisher, the Ranger's boarders having snuck over under the cover of night to pick off the stragglers, there are but a handful of men left in fighting shape. With their captain dead for reasons of 'actually a little slavery is okay if it serves to make rich people think meaner slavery and mundane every day slavery are bad,' no one still standing wants to fight anymore, and every man able to do so hurriedly makes to abandon the ship via the launches. Whether you allow them to do so is your prerogative--the day is won. When you've had your druthers, no matter if you allow the remaining marines and one or two naval officers to escape, or if you struck them down--Charles Vane turns the Ranger's cannons on the Swallow once everyone has boarded the Ranger again, sending the English ship of the line to a watery grave. By the time you arrive back in Nassau, it is night, on Christmas Eve. Some of the rescued men elect to try their luck as part of Vane's crew, some ask after work with the Concord. Others still take their leave, seeking new lives either on the island, or passage to other ports of call within the Great Sea, on this world or beyond. They are all allowed their pick--but Thomas is stopped by a dagger pointed at his throat by none other than Anne Bonny, who holds him up before he can board a launch. The sole remaining member of the Hamilton line swallows nervously, holding his hands up. "Have I... offended you, somehow? Breached some rule of conduct I wasn't aware of?" "Anne, darling," says Rackham, trying to reason with her, and very clearly Concerned with her behavior. "What are you doing? Need I remind you that man is the sole reason for our endeavor today?" Silver gives her a wary, expectant look. "You're not getting the ten thousand if he's dead," says the Walrus quartermaster flatly. "It ain't Christmas yet, cunts." spits Anne. "Oh, for God's sake." Rackham bristles. "Just take him to Miss Guthrie's office and Mr. Silver can bring him to the Barlow woman and Flint tomorrow." Anne lowers her dagger and shrugs her shoulder. "Go on then... 'Mr. Silver.'" With a raise of his brow leveled at all of his Concord allies which seems to say, 'well, that happened,' and an exasperated frown, Silver motions to the launch. "...Merry Christmas, I guess," utters the put-upon quartermaster.