Octavius tried the whole "getting up early" thing. It didn't take him long that most people were too hung over to sail a ship properly. Instead, he went back to bed, quietly announcing, "Fuck this shit. Let'em sleep." to the world before snuggling back into his hammock and passing out once more. He didn't see the point in dragging people out of bed to try and set sail. Especially since he wasn't even good enough to drink his first mate under the table. So the ship sat at anchor and floated about, waiting for its crew to rouse themselves and prepare to actually cast off. Around ten or so in the morning, the captain finally decided he should probably work on getting everyone moving. Someone had to get them to the grand line, and it wasn't going to happen with the [i]Powder Keg[/i] still above the sea floor. The first step, though, was to actually get out of bed. The warlord managed that without too much trouble. The second step seemed to be looking the part. That was damn-near impossible since Ceres had hacked away at his pride like a lumberjack at a choice hardwood. He supposed he could try, though. The man arranged himself as best he could, and made sure his scattergun stayed close at hand. He wasn't going to put up with anyone disrespecting him. He had plenty of buckshot still. More than enough to quiet any dissension amongst the ranks. 

With that, he headed for the top deck, wondering if the damage to his pride was just building up to something so much worse. [i]Pride goeth before destruction... A haughty spirit before a fall...[/i] the warning echoed in his mind. "Fuck'em all. I'm goddamn Octavius Cuttlam." he sword to himself, shoving back any thoughts of failure, and ignoring any and all warning signs that he was an insane, rage-drunk pirate with a ragtag crew and a small-man complex. He reached the deck with a new-found enthusiasm, and started looking for his first mate. She might as well be the one doing the yelling. She seemed awfully good at talking shit, she could probably manage some volume just fine. "Get this ship moving." the words waited on his lips as he searched for the woman who had so disturbed him earlier. If they were really going to do this, he supposed they might as well do it properly. And if she tried to stab him in the back, he would just have to show her how much a shotgun blast could hurt when he wanted it to...