Octavius remained at the helm when he heard the cry go up for dinner. Questioning looks were met with an irritated wave. The captain wasn't about to leave his ship unsupervised now. He was on the hunt. So while just about everyone else on his crew set to eating, he waited patiently at the wheel, his head on a swivel. Soon enough, his first mate appeared, announcing again, that dinner was ready. He looked to her and nodded. "Eat. You can take the wheel when you're done. Then I'll eat." he spoke quietly, like a man not about to be argued with. Then he turned back to his work. When Ceres was done eating, he'd be more than happy to step away, leaving her in charge while he wolfed down his food.

Even now that he was willing to eat her food, he knew the woman wasn't going to be impressed. Captain Cuttlam wasn't one to sit around and savour things while he was hunting, so if she cared to watch, his first mate would get to witness the spectacle of the captain horking back his plateful of food like a starving man, and without ever tasting it, he would return to his post, more concerned about his quarry sneaking up on him, than anything else. 

Not long after eating, the warlord closed his eyes at the wheel, and took a long, deep breath through his nose. Then he snarled, remembering it didn't work like that. He let his left arm transform, raining blood on the deck next to him, as his alter ego ascended a half-dozen feet or so. He took another deep breath, this time through daemonic lungs, and found what he sought. He shuddered a little, and let his arm shorten, that it might hover more menacingly, he supposed. The thing had a mind of its own sometimes. He was decidedly less concerned by that, though, and more concerned with the smells of fire, powder, and death on the wind.

"Go find the best helmsman on the crew and bring him here." he ordered Ceres. He had some complex tasks for whoever that lucky man was, and while he would normally do it himself, or have his first mate do it, both of them would be needed to do battle against the [i]Powder Keg[/i] and unless he had lost what was left of his mind in the past few minutes, they were about to see the ship they had been seeking. So when Ceres returned with the man he sought, the pirate started giving orders right away.

"You're the best we've got, eh? Good. A ship's going to come into sight in a moment or two. I want you to keep us just barely out of cannon range of it. And I want us always broadside of it. Do you understand?" he knew this needed to be stressed heavily, so he repeated the instructions. "Just out of cannon range. Her cannons, not ours. She's only got twenty-fours. And keep us broadside. Broadside. I swear to all the gods man, if you screw this up, I'm going to devour you alive." he looked like he would do it, too. "Good luck. God speed." he added, before turning to the rest of the deck. "Where's my gunnery captain?" he bellowed, and the man appeared in a hurry.

"Here, Captain!" he sounded off, rushing over. Octavius was speaking before he could get anything else out.

"I want all the thirty-six pound guns we've got on the top deck. Port side. Go." he stated, and he started to inhale when the man hesitated. Few could have moved faster in that situation. He smiled, and then turned back to Ceres. "You'll be on fire duty. If those bastards manage to catch us on fire, we'll go up faster than a magazine, and I don't intend to die before I'm the king again." this man was clearly prepared. Knowing one's enemy was a great deal of help in any situation, but it seemed he had stacked the deck this time, however he'd done it...

((too much?))