[IC] The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

[Sarpedon]

Octavius was a little surprised he had slept through docking, but wasn't terribly worried, since he was armed and dangerous now. Someone approached him immediately, referring to him as captain. Cuttlam failed to correct the man, smiling instead. "I'm not surprised. Yes, I'll be going to the Grand Line. I don't think it'll be with this boat, but we'll see. Regardless, I'm going, and Ceres is coming with me, so if you don't want to come along, you'd best grab your things. I wouldn't advise coming along. It's a fool's errand we're on, but that's my favourite part..." the warlord laughed and slipped past the man in front of him, heading for the gangplank. He recognized this place, and had no fear of it, or its inhabitants. They had no power here. so the pirate lord strode boldly into every tavern he could find, announcing his return. Few recognized him, a couple cheered, and most gave him a disgusted look as he left. They would remember, though, and they would pay. He was grinning the whole time, just waiting. It was all a matter of time, now. After the eighth tavern, it happened. A band of drunk marines piled out of the place after him, convinced they'd get a pretty penny or two for his head. There were four of them, and six shells in his scattergun. Not even a challenge. They fanned out and produced knives and pistols, ready to take out this notorious pirate captain. But the criminal moved so fast not one of them could get a thought off between shots.

In an instant, Octavius had spun, his momentum whirling his shotgun around and into his hands. The first blast went off the moment his fowling piece reached his hands. He squeezed the trigger and sent a salvo of number four buckshot into the gut of the rightmost marine. Then he held down the trigger as his left arm went to work. He slammed the slide back violently, and with a speed to rival the lead he had just sent downrange. The forward motion of his arm that followed, jerked the weapon in the direction of his next target, and as the bolt closed on a second shell, it fired immediately, this man behind struck in the chest. He died as he fell, but not before the man beside him fell too. The third marine had been given a little time, but not enough, and he couldn't quite get the hammer back on his revolver before a third hail of shot tore out his throat. The last man had given up upon seeing their quarry fell the first soldier quicker than many could think, but hadn't managed to turn around so he could run before a final shot rang out, and more than a score of twenty-four calibre balls of lead ripped through his skull. All four of them fell one after another like a set of dominoes. As the four marine collapsed, quite dead, he let his left arm pull the slide back more slowly, popping the empty cartridge out of the chamber. It tumbled to the ground, bouncing twice before settling. After letting the smoke clear for a moment, he locked the slide forward once more, and the man left standing took a bow. The people around him immediately believed. There was no one faster with a scattergun.

Of course, the first man was still alive, having been hastily shot to put his enemies on the back foot. So the merciful pirate approached, knowing no one could help this man, except for the man who wouldn't. So there was only one thing to do. He let the muzzle of his weapon rest just over the man's head, and he pulled the trigger, solving the problem by removing it entirely. "I have returned." he announced to those around him, chambering the last shot in his fowling piece. It was the work of a moment to top it off, before he collected the spent brass and moved along, the bodies were left as a message. He was not to be trifled with. I need, he was determined to prove this, and he headed for the most expensive part of town, wondering if cutting down a few more marines might do the trick. It seemed that wouldn't be necessary though. He walked down the street, and didn't see a single soldier of any kind. Instead he spotted something much more exciting. An old member of his crew. This one hadn't been on for long, really. Just long enough to get to know everyone, before bailing. Piracy wasn't for him, and that was fine, but he might know a thing or two. The Shotgun Preacher marched up behind the man and slipped his free arm around the man's shoulders, his shotgun trailing by his other side.

"What's a man like you doing in a place like this?" the warlord asked. The man he was speaking to jumped, realizing who was beside him.

"Uhhh..." he was at a loss for words, unsure what was going on now.

"Made out like a bandit, I see. Well done. Any word on the boys? Been out of touch, looking to get them together again." it was almost like nothing had ever happened, the way Captain Cuttlam was speaking. Clearly his old friend didn't think so.

"They're all along the Grand Line now. Cyrus is running with the Powder Keg and Luther and Griggs are on the Simurgh. That's the last I've heard, and all I know." the information was coughed up quickly and easily, and the captain was more than satisfied.

"Thank you, old friend. I wish you luck, in your banditry." the captain chuckled and headed for the waterfront, saluting his old crewmate with his shotgun before slipping off to find himself more sailors to get him where he needed to go. "The Powder Keg is easy to find... It'll be a feat to catch the Simurgh though..." the pirate lord muttered to himself as he headed for the most likely places to find volunteers. "We'll need a faster ship." he decided, figuring it would be simply enough to steal one and be off with his volunteers, after emptying out their current ship. He liked the caravel, they just needed a different one. One with a little more rigging, and a little less in the water. For now, it would do, he supposed. But not if they wanted to catch the Simurgh. It was settled then. They'd start with the Powder Keg. "That was easy..." Octavius chuckled as he kicked in the door of a tavern and invited all comers to the Grand Line. Two men stood up, and he headed for the next place, to fill out his crew until he could get the men he really wanted...

[sanquin]

"Look, I don't need your help. I'm out of here in another day anyway." The man spoke, hanging his head again. "And I still don't believe you're part of that old fart's crew. But here's a deal I'm willing to make. Get me my two swords, and I'll come along. If I don't like anything, I leave. Got it, girl?" Ceres smirked, then with a slight nod turned towards the pirates that were now just about to reach her with their cutlasses. "Sorry boys, seems like you'll be in my way so..." After the swords had hit nothing but water, the woman burst into two streams of water, slamming everyone away from her and into the walls of the courtyard. That only left the captain and his first mate, whom had of course stayed behind. "I'll give you two choices, former captain. Either you give me the swords. Or I will trash this place and find them myself."

The two didn't listen, instead bringing out a cannon. "Fire! Kill her already!" The man shouted, the cannon being fired a moment later by the first mate. Of course, even that didn't do much to Ceres. Water was flung everywhere, but she just reformed seconds later. "W-what the hell! Since when did you get devil fruit powers!" The captain asked, only having known her from 'before'. A good cook, but not much of a fighter. More a rogue-type. And now here she was, devil fruit powers and all, facing him head on. And he was being destroyed by her!

"F-fine! Take that useless kid with you! My pirate crew isn't a place for kids anyway!" The man retorted, trying to sound brave. But he knew full well that there was no way he could win against her right now. "Barto...get that little shit's swords...these two ain't worth the trouble." He growled. The man quickly went inside to do so. Things were going pretty easy so far. But that was probably because she knew Captain Coughlan too well. She knew his weakness. Deep down, he was a coward. And when faced with a force stronger than his own he was quick to concede.

[Sarpedon]

Octavius strode proudly back onto his ship. He'd made some rounds, picked the best of the best for his crew, and now they had a decent enough bunch of cutthroats and killers to get them to the Powder Keg. With that settled, they needed a name for their ship. He paced the length of the vessel twice before accosting the nearest sailor and ordering them to grab a bucket of paint and a brush, and to find the best ship-painter available on short notice. That didn't take long, mostly due to the fact that everyone was about equally qualified at this point, so he ordered the man who'd volunteered to paint over the current name of the ship, and get ready to re-christen it with something a little more appropriate. It was just a matter of wasting some time until the painter was ready, at which point the captain grinned. "This ship, henceforth, shall be called the Duchess Gambit." he declared, and the nearby pirates gave him a look.

"Like the albatross?" they wanted to know.

"Exactly like the albatross." he replied. These being new pirates, they had missed the fiasco with the waterspout, so of course they would have to be educated.

"How do you figger? Seem's strange." was the response he got, and one he had expected.

"There's a woman on this crew. She's the first mate, and she's an albatross, I'm sure of it." the crew were understandably upset by the idea of a woman being in charge, but upon hearing that she was an albatross, they got more curious than shocked and angry and scared

"How did you find out?" of course they wanted the whole story. The pirate lord decided they could have the abridged version.

"She steered us straight at a waterspout, and the thing fucked right off, like it were scared of getting hurt by her." he explained, looking very serious. The series emotions that washed across the faces of those in earshot was comical, and Captain Cuttlam wandered off right at that moment. "Get the ship painted." he ordered, wondering what to do about their cargo. He figured that they would need to cash it in at some point, but where? Not here, obviously. But they would definitely need money soon, and they would need to find a market for their valuables before then. Nothing he could do about it just yet, though, and Octavius did his best not to stress about it. He figured they could make do without at least for the time being. He figured it would probably be best to save it all, anyway, since they would need all the resources at their disposal just to catch the Simurgh. With that in mind, he decided to do nothing for the moment, and instead invest himself in preparing to run down the Powder Keg. That was going to be entertaining, of that he was very certain...

[sanquin]

(Actually, this town would be the perfect place to sell goods. As long as you don't go too far into the rich area that is. But at the outer edge there would be at least two peddlers, and probably an interested party or two as well. If you know where to look at least. :P)

Soon Ceres and Ace were underway, back to the ship. She wasn't sure about Octavius' exact plans, but figured that the plans she had wouldn't interfere with his. Specifically, the type of crew she had in mind. 'Being able to hold their own in a duel against her' was basically her benchmark. They didn't need to damage her, but if they weren't able to defend against her attacks for a bit they wouldn't stand a chance on the Grand Line.

"So, Ace, I heard you want to become the best swordsman in the world right?" The man was still not very talkative, as he had no reason to trust her yet. He just nodded to her question. "Good, because we'll be heading to the Grand Line. So we'll need the best." She spoke with a slight smile. It didn't take too long until they arrived. At which point Ceres noticed that someone was painting over the old name. "Seems the Captain found a new name for the ship. Albatro-- Albatross... I wonder where he got that." She shrugged and headed up to the deck. "Cap'n! I got the guy I was looking for! Ace Keighley, one of the finest swordsmen in this part of the seas!" Immediately two guys gasped.

"That guy? You managed to get Whirlwind Ace to join us?!" One exclaimed. "He's that famous already? No matter. Yes he'll be joining our crew. Who could resist the shotgun preacher's reputation, right?" "Shut up, girl." Ace growled. "I'm here to get off this island. The moment I don't like anything, I'm out."

[Sarpedon]

In all his thoughts, the captain didn't realize he was muttering to himself. Even as he made his way back up the length of his ship, one of the new guys heard him, and offered a suggestion. "There's a couple of peddlers that'll buy just about anything. If you really need cash, you should hit them up." he suggested helpfully, much to his own misfortune.

"You're fucking smart. You're coming with me. Grab three more men and meet me in the hold." Octavius ordered, heading toward the cargo deck. He figured they could lug some samples over, sell off their cargo, and load up for bear to ensure that the taking of the Powder Keg went smoothly. So while his volunteers got themselves together, the man in charge picked out the samples they would be taking. Once his menial labour showed up they were given the proper instructions, and followed their leader off the ship. Of course, something had to go wrong. The man with the paint had screwed up the naming of the ship. That was easily solved though. Being a surgeon with a scattergun, the warlord produced his weapon with a swiftness that could amaze the uneducated, and proceeded to fire one round into the mechanism that was holding the pirate's boatswain's chair to the ship. The man screamed briefly before disappearing into the drink. Several more followed to fish him out, and Captain Cuttlam started shouting.

"If that ship isn't named properly when I get back, I'll hang the lot of you, so help me God!" he was red in the face, and looked the very picture of vengeance. Everyone believed him, and someone who actually knew what was going on set to directing the repainting of the ship once more. "We'll be with you in a moment." he called out to Ceres when he noticed her, suddenly calm and composed. The Shotgun Preacher then set off for the markets, with his helpers in tow, seeking to make himself some coin, and get the chase underway...

[sanquin]

Ceres sighed when she saw Cuttlam basically ignore her and go off somewhere else with a group of sailors. "Ah well, you've seen him now at least." She spoke to Ace, grinning mockingly. "Believe me now? I met him in prison and busted him out a few days ago. I'll spare you the details, but let's just say after a rough start between us I decided to join his crew." "You were telling the truth, I admit that." The man replied, smiling slightly for the first time. "I guess I'll stick around for now, as things are starting to get interesting."

The two went onto the ship, and Ceres immediately dragged two of the remaining men along with her to the cargo hold. "We've been in a constant rush since we left, so how about we all have a drink? To celebrate Ace joining us of course!" It was just an excuse to drink booze. She loved drinking, maybe a little too much even. Though one mug wouldn't hurt anyone. Or at least not anyone worthwhile. What kind of sailor would you be if you got drunk after just one mug of ale, right? By the time the three returned with two barrels the one doing the painting was also almost done, so he could join in soon after. Now all they had to do was wait for Cuttlam and the gang he brought with his to return.

[Sarpedon]

It didn't take a whole lot of time to track down the men rumoured to buy anything. The two of them were set up across from each other at one of the entrances to the market square, each of them hawking various wares at seemingly random prices. As people wandered in and out, they would pause and most would walk away with something or other. But when the merchants saw the things that the Shotgun Preacher was escorting toward them, they stopped all that nonsense. Such goods were always to be had in quantity, and could sold for ridiculous profits. Of course, that meant a bout of vicious haggling, and the captain was not about to put up with such nonsense. Both peddlers approached eagerly and started making offers. As was to be expected, however, neither of them was going to offer half of what the stuff was worth. Octavius put an end to that immediately, though.

"The first one of you to double your offer can have the deal." he declared. One of them tried haggling again, and the pirate lord began to wave his hand in a circle, waiting for them to actually get the point. The other merchant spit out a number closer to two thirds what the stuff was worth, and the warlord clapped him on the back, "Congratulations! You win! Have your men stop by the Duchess Gambit and I'll get you sorted. I want to see coin when you get there. He then motioned for his lackeys to set down their burdens by the victor's cart, waiting for the peddler to pay up. He took the money offered, counted it, and then spun on his heel, quite satisfied. "We're doing well so far, boys. Keep up the good work." he congratulated his companions, "What do you say we go get roaring drunk?" he asked after another moment, the group picked up the pace and made record time to the ship, only to find the drinking already in progress. Having forgot all about the threats he had made earlier about painting the ship, and glad of the initiative, the captain simply butted in line to the keg and helped himself. He was probably going to need all the alcohol he could get his hands on if they were going to be taking on the Powder Keg...

[sanquin]

The captain with his group were back soon enough. The people that had stayed behind only had their first tankard empty by that time, so they all quickly joined in. Ceres hadn't planned to get drunk at this time, though this definitely changed things. Cuttlam intended to drink more than just a bit, so she wasn't about to stay behind. In fact, she had a little plan. Or rather, she had a tradition she held whenever she met new people like this. "Okay boys, since we're all drinking now...I challenge anyone who's willing to a drinking contest! Anyone that can beat me gets another one of those meals I cooked!" Everyone was silent for a moment. But some quickly started to chuckle. "A woman challenging a ship of sailors to a drinking contest? You may be strong, but drinking should be left to men!"

Five guys immediately started filling their mugs, and Ceres joined in. Though once hers was filled she grinned and looked at Cuttlam. "How about it, captain? Care to join in? As I recall you declined my last meal without even trying it~" The sailors that had eaten the one Cuttlam had declined were still alive and kicking. In fact they had loved it. So at least it was clear that it hadn't been poisoned. Though that was only if one of them could win. There were only three things that Ceres was good at. Stealing, sailing and drinking, her fighting skills still being a work in progress. And she wasn't about to be drank under the table by thugs like these. Cuttlam was her real target. She wanted to see how good her new captain was even at things like these.

[Sarpedon]

Octavius allowed no delay in the emptying of his first tankard of ale. Of course, Ceres waited until after he was refilling the mug to challenge all comers to a drinking contest. The warlord laughed. There was no way this woman could drink him under the table. A year out of practice and the pirate was willing to bet he could drink everyone else unconscious. "I'm still not eating your food, but I'll drink you under the table all the same, lass." he declared, answering the challenge the only way a captain could. If he lost this one, respect for him would drop. He didn't know if Ceres understood that, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't matter. His liver had just been given a whole year to recover, surely it could keep him on his feet for long enough to win. Putting all of his faith in his formidable constitution, Captain Cuttlam raised his tankard with a grin. "Let's have a go then!" he shouted, before proceeding to down his second tankard of ale with just as much ferocity as the first. Unfortunately, the first one didn't count, simply because they hadn't started at that point. They were all starting from scratch. By the looks of it, though, the whole group was on even footing, thanks to the impeccable timing of the vessel's glorious captain.

As he moved to refill his mug once more, the pirate lord began to wonder if this was such a good idea. Ceres had magical powers over water. That probably had some effect on her ability to drink. Challenging someone like that had to be a terrible idea. But the worst part, was that she had challenged him. A pirate couldn't back down from a challenge in the first place, a captain had even less choice. It was pretty well win or die, now. The potential loss of respect, should he fail in this competition, would be far worse than just about anything else that could happen at this point. You're fucked regardless. Just don't lose. he reassured himself as he waited for everyone else to prepare their next tankard's worth of ale. He didn't feel very reassured, but put on a good front. These tankards were rather large, and he didn't see anyone lasting much longer than five...

[sanquin]

Octavius raised his mug as well. Clearly he didn't know whom he was dealing with yet, as even pride didn't make you irresponsible. That's what her old crew had called anyone who tried to beat her in a drinking contest. Luckily, this crew was unfamiliar with her. "I'm not joining in on a contest..." Ace spoke, looking around the group. Everyone but two seemed to be a push over. He knew Ceres' capabilities already, and Octavius could probably old his own as well. So he opted out of this one. Several other men decided to join in as well, thinking this single girl had no chance against half a dozen guys. Even if she was good, she couldn't be better than all of them.

But how wrong they were. Ceres grinned widely, and quickly filled her mug for a second helping. Him and Octavius were on even footing, so there was no unfairness going on any more. And everyone but Ceres and Octavius took quite a bit of time to down each mug. At least 20 seconds. While Octavius and Ceres seemed to down them in a mere 7 at most. Both had 3 now, but neither was even close to slowing down. "It's a bit of a shame that drinking like this takes away the suspense, but it would otherwise take too long." The woman mused as she refilled for a fourth time. "I'll make a little prediction. I bet I'll still be able to stand after 15~"

[Sarpedon]

Octavius laughed at the few who refused to participate. Obviously they weren't going to win, but they might as well try, he figured. That wasn't the spirit he was looking for in himself, though. The captain was determined to win this contest, whatever it took. So with the crew struggling to keep up, the pirate lord and his second in command began to really go at it, sucking back ale like men stranded in the desert might gulp down what little water they could find. Of course, then Ceres had to start running her mouth. She claimed she would be on her feet after fifteen mugs of the stuff. Captain Cuttlam, not to be outdone, mustered up all of his willpower and laughed in his face. "I'll be scaling the rigging like a pro after twenty!" he roared, downing his latest mug and whipping his pirates into a supportive frenzy. They cheered as the contest continued, but the contestants began dropping rapidly after the dozen mark. The warlord would admit to losing count at the eight mark, but regained it at thirteen. when someone on the verge of passing out uttered their amazement.

Octavius was moving slower now, trying to keep up, and drag out the contest at the same time. His liver protested quietly, but he mustered all of his willpower and remained standing. He even walked perfectly straight with some effort, moving to refill his tankard once more. "Excelsior..." he growled to himself quietly, He had to win this. They were nearly at the fifteen mark, which was Ceres' bet. It was really just a matter of beating her at this point. None of the other competitors were really in the game any more. The only one still up and kicking was falling over too much to reach the keg, So that left the only two who ever really mattered. The captain wasn't about to just give in, though. He had to win. Even if everyone else was passed out, there were still those who had chosen not to compete. And if they watched their captain fall to a woman, he'd lose any respect he might have had to begin with. That just wasn't acceptable. Victory! was the only thought in Captain Cuttlam's mind as he strove to defeat this woman, his albatross. He just hoped that this contest wasn't some kind of proverbial crossbow. Before negative thoughts could start to break him down, though, the warlord refocused on victory even as his vision swam. He fought hard, forcing his body to function. He had to win. He had to...

[sanquin]

Ceres saw that as a real challenge, so she wasn't about to go easy on her new captain. She was easily able to keep up with Octavius' pace, finding that it actually still gave her a bit of a breather every now and then. Most had already passed out at 10, the last ones remaining being two sailors, Ace, Ceres, and Octavius. Though only two remained when they hit 13. Ace hadn't passed out though. He'd just drunkenly uttered "Dazzit fer me... Imma tek a nap." and closed his eyes.

Ceres smirked, looking at Octavius as she filled her 14th mug. She was definitely at least tipsy, or maybe drunk. Though it was hard to tell. "Y'now, I 'ad a nichname on me previousz ship. Bar Demon dey called me. I once won a drinkin' contesst by bein' able te sztand affer twenny o' dese~" She grinned wickedly, gulping her entire mug down in 5 seconds flat, and immediately moving to refill again. "Dere's no shame in losin' ta me y'now~" Everyone was passed out already, so they wouldn't see their captain being beaten like this. But when drunk, Ceres liked messing with people, and her sense of humour could be a pain in the ass for others.

[Sarpedon]

Octavius wasn't sure what to do now. Ceres seemed to still be going strong, said something about being alive and kicking after twenty. That was a lot of alcohol, and he wasn't sure such a thing was possible for him at this point. He'd gotten this far, beaten everyone else, and things were looking good. But he still had to get past Ceres, and she was looking a lot better off than he felt. She declared that there was no shame in losing, but the warlord didn't see it that way. He couldn't see any situation where losing was acceptable. How were people to respect him if he lost? He couldn't lead by example if he wasn't the best. The pirate mustered all of his strength and kept going, determined not to lose. "I..." he found his beer-addled mind was having trouble thinking, but he had no problem focusing on victory. "Nod, gunna... Loose." he managed to declare, wondering how he was going to power through another six or so tankards full of ale.

It didn't matter what the woman said, she wasn't going to convince the captain to give in. Being a pirate lord meant being a formidable warrior, a shrewd negotiator, and an indomitable drinker. The first two were easy enough, having come back with a little practice. But Captain Cuttlam found his liver wasn't quite as eager to jump back into the fray. That didn't stop him from forcing it to, but it did mean that the process was a bit less pleasant than it could have been. Surprisingly, though, he kept his feet better than expected, and managed to keep up with his competitor, despite her obviously superior drinking ability. That was probably only because she was downing them so quickly, though, pumping all of the alcohol into her system, and moving on before it could really start to react. Once it really hit her, Octavius was sure she would drop like a rock, leaving him standing alone as the victor. It was just a matter of using his supposedly-superior endurance. This contest was going to turn into a long game pretty quickly, he figured, since he couldn't quit. Just hold on... he told himself. She can't drink forever! he managed to convince himself that she wasn't cheating, and that Ceres would have to give out first. If she was cheating, he supposed he could always see if the mariner was right the first time...

[sanquin]

"Nod givin' up eh?" Ceres replied, chuckling softly. She had downed two beers in one go, but had done so on purpose. As right now it would give her a bit of time to rest. "Aw man, yer fallin' behind. I'm more dan onne ahead. Guesz I hav te waid a bid." She was still sitting up-right, and felt like she could go on for a while longer anyway. But little tricks like this were part of a drinking match! He had the option to drink just as fast as she did after all.

And then they both finished 15 mugs of ale. Still Ceres didn't feel like she would fall over. Another two or three at the least, maybe four even. Though preferably not, as passing out on deck sucked. She'd rather first wobble towards a hammock or something. "Sho, reddy te giv up yed?" She stammered, filling her 16th and waiting for him to either do the same, pass out, or stop. Once again she grinned playfully, as if she wasn't even close to being done yet. Though that depended on whether you saw another 3 mugs as being close or not.

[Sarpedon]

Octavius would never give up. Never. Not in a trillion years would the idea of defeat ever occur to him. He'd lost last time after an army's worth of men had died in a whole host of horrible ways. No one had died yet, and the captain was more than happy to expire, rather than lose. Of course, then Ceres accused him of falling behind. That wasn't acceptable. Captain Cuttlam wasn't a notorious pirate lord for nothing. So when his first mate made fun of him, the warlord when into overdrive, chugging the remainder of his tankard, and refilling the vessel for another go. But he didn't stop there like his opponent did. He didn't need rest, he needed victory. His flagon got refilled, and the pirate continued drinking. He had to pause after his next one, but only long enough to deal with more of Ceres' taunts. "I... Nevah geev ut!" he growled, swinging his empty mug defiantly and refilling it again. "Nah... Nah hoos beh- hine?" he taunted right back, throwing back his next tankard's worth of ale and using his new-found anger to focus. He followed the little rage-crumb trail back to the tiny, incredibly dense star that was his pool of anger, and he used his drunken imagination to turn that little star into a cutlass he could use to fend off the drunken stupor that was overwhelming him. Powered by hate and violence, Octavius continued to drink, keeping his feet through sheer force of will and his desire for victory. He muttered something unintelligible as he moved for the cask once more, his determination seeming to be inhuman...

[sanquin]

Her plan backfired, as now Octavius was also drinking faster. Or had it? He was already struggling, to say the least. So drinking faster would affect him faster too. And she figured she now felt about the same as Octavius did 3 or 4 mugs ago, and she wasn't about to be beaten by a pirate from the previous age! "Num'r dwenny." She muttered, moving to fill her mug once again. She wondered if Octavius was even still able to fill his one at this point as he had only barely managed with his 19th. "I-- I's no dun yed. Ye wun beed me!" She spoke as she raised her mug again, waiting to see if Octavius was ready to pass out yet, as he clearly wasn't going to give up before that. If anything, he had a willpower stronger than hers, to be able to keep up with her despite him being at a disadvantage. And to top it all off he was the first to keep up with her this far in a good 10 years or so. If anything, I have to admit I respect his will and stamina a little... She thought to herself, deciding right now that she liked people that could keep up with her drinking capabilities up until this point.

[Sarpedon]

Octavius, ever the fighter, carried on. The pirate lord was not about to give in to Ceres, not now that victory was in sight. He thought he heard her say something about him not beating her. That was further from the truth than he could ever imagine. How he could ever give in, the warlord had no idea. "Too'th lass! I gabble wit'ye! Fro 'Ell's hard! I sab ye! Fer hade's seg! I spid on ye!" the speech was less effective shouted through a drunken slur, but it gave him the strength to down another tankard's worth of ale and head for another without pause. Having no idea what number he was on now, the man figured he would just keep drinking until his opponent gave in, then he'd head to bed. Victory! the word screamed through his head. It was that, or death, he figured. Unfortunately for him, he was far too right, in that respect. Captain Cuttlam fought hard, even as his vision swam, and he struggled to keep his feet, fighting to stay conscious enough to keep drinking. Every second was a fight, but it was a fight he could win, if his opponent would only surrender. Except that she wasn't about to do such a thing. So even as he moved toward the keg, things started to go wrong. The ship rocked just the right way, and the Shotgun Preacher lurched past the keg. His unsteady gait, and intoxicated state, had him thinking the whole world was moving, and he wound up propelling himself off the side of the ship as he attempted to regain his balance.

The only thing that kept him alive was the rope that someone had carelessly tossed over the edge. Both ends were secure, and the loop in the middle was enough to catch his ankle, and arrest the man's fall from grace. Disappointment, and the sudden, violent motion, followed by an equally confrontational halt had the captain puking up his guts into the drink. He felt a lot better immediately afterward, and used the opportunity to fumble for his knife. He didn't want to abide by this ignominy, and as the blood rushed to his head, and the alcohol overcame him, he fought to keep just conscious enough to get the blade through the rope. He had no such luck, however, and quickly lost consciousness, hoping the sway of the ship might knock him loose and spare him the embarrassment of losing such an important contest...

[sanquin]

Ceres had completely forgotten that there were other sailors that hadn't joined the contest by this point. She was just focused on 'the right to keep' her title of bar demon. As to her, if she couldn't beat someone like him she didn't have the right to that title either. Octavius tried to keep on fighting, and quite a fight he gave. But at his 20th mug things went wrong. Ceres had barely realized what was happening before the man was already falling over the edge of the ship. Though unluckily for him, she was still able to remain on her feet. Had she drank one or two more such tasks would have probably become impossible for her. She stumbled towards the edge, first getting a hold of the edge before grabbing the rope that by some miracle was holding on to her captain for the time being. It was as if fate itself wanted to keep the two of them together or something. First she managed to evade a water spout with a 50/50 chance of success. And now by what could only be called the luck of the gods themselves, the ship had prevented Octavius from a watery grave.

Strength wasn't the issue right now. While she wouldn't beat your average proper pirate in arm wrestling, she was at least strong enough to hoist one man back on board. The problem was keeping her balance while doing so. "Nnnish time ya...ya piked fer a sshim, cap!" She yelled, wondering if he could still hear her. She started pulling on the rope as hard as she could, though by trying to shift her weight she was thrown off balance. Her feet slipped away from over her, slamming her body against the ship's side. "I'm ta...ta fecn drank fer diz!" She growled, getting her bearings for a moment before trying again. This time she had more success, slowly pulling the man up to the deck again. Then finally she could grab his leg, and pull him on board again.

Ceres was completely drained now, having used whatever energy she had left to save her new captain's life. So as soon as he was safely on board, she fell back onto the deck and passed out as well. She wasn't sure if this man had entirely lost his wits from his golden years, or if he had always been this 'chaotic'. But she hadn't exactly been bored while with him, so there was that at least. The other sailors were smart enough to not to anything to them, even if they looked helpless. It was best not incur the wrath of the shotgun preacher, or the woman that could keep up with him and talked to him like he was no better than her, for that matter.

[Sarpedon]

Octavius woke up with a groan. The comforting rock of the ship beneath him had the warlord feeling better than he might have, had he been stuck on land. As it was, he was left with a bit of a headache and a vicious hunger. He had no idea how long he had been passed out for, but it was very dark out now. The last thing he could remember was suggesting that they all get incredibly drunk. A look around had him wondering if they had had some kind of contest. He really hoped he had won. Losing to anyone at this point would just ruin his reputation. And the last thing he needed was for Ceres to beat him at a pirate's game. He might as well retire if he couldn't stay on top. Retiring was always painful for a pirate, though. It was the same way with Marines. With that in mind, the pirate commander dragged himself to his feet, and struck off to raid the larder, waiting for his memory to return. He needed to know that he had won, and some food would doubtless help that. It always had before. If nothing else, someone would be awake that had been witness to the whole affair, he was almost certain of that. They could confirm things for him.

Upon his arrival at the pantry, however, Captain Cuttlam found his progress blocked by one of the new crewmen he had picked up. The man looked like he was about ready to defend the ship's stores to the death. "Get out of the way, lad. I'm getting something to eat." he growled, his words slurring only a tiny bit. The man moved quickly when he realized that the warlord was no longer intoxicated. "Did ya see the contest on deck?" he asked, pushing past the sailor to start grabbing up an armful of edibles.

"I did, it was a good one." the sailor replied, he seemed fairly nonplussed about the whole affair however.

"It wasn't that good, though, aye?" Octavius was curious why someone wouldn't be inspired by their captain winning such a contest.

"Well... You, di-didn't win, skip..." the pirate replied, to which the captain started to laugh. But something in the sailor's voice had him turning around, and when he saw the look on the man's face, the warlord just about lost himself in the whirlwind of emotions that overtook him. He didn't know what to do with himself. On the plus side, he felt a lot better, but his physical condition wasn't a concern when he had to deal with the idea of losing. Ceres was the only one who could possibly beat him. He knew that much. His memory was good enough that the hazy details told him he'd been beaten by his first mate. An unacceptable fate if ever there was one. So of course, being a man of rational thought and reasonable reaction, the captain replaced his armload of various edible goods and snatched up two bottles of the strongest liquor on the ship, before seeming to disappear in a swirl of leather, sweat, and ferocity, with a hint of stale beer and defeat.

Of course, his solution to this problem was going to be drinking until he was better than Ceres. Or he wound up dead. He couldn't let such a defeat overcome him. It was just another obstacle in the way of his journey back to the golden age. It wasn't far, he knew, but it was going to take everything he had...

[sanquin]

Ceres had woken up about an hour prior to that. Something about punching a guy unconscious while he was trying to cup a feel. She didn't remember anything about it though, as it was her own punch that had woken her up. His own fault for trying to take advantage of a drunken woman really, though she wouldn't hate him for it. She had learned long ago that that was just how guys were. They wanted women, whether they showed it or not.

She was trying to get over her headache with a fried egg on a slice of bread, sitting near the steering wheel against the ship's side. Suddenly Octavius came bursting out, several bottles in hand and looking like he was about to either drink them all or throw them all overboard. Luckily it didn't seem to be the latter. "If you want a rematch, you'll have to wait for the next island, Cap'n." She spoke, careful to not be too loud. "I'd rather be able to keep my focus while sailing." It was already night, so most sailors had gone to sleep, or were idly holding guard while keeping themselves busy. Though the two of them had been out cold for a good 6 hours or so, so Ceres at least was fully awake. Heck she'd be up for sailing out now, wasn't it for the supplies she needed to fill the larder properly, which could only be bought at the market in the morning at 6 am. "Though I look forward to having you as my rival. At your best, we'd probably have a real contest on our hands." She wasn't about to make fun of him for his loss. None of the sailors were, in fact. Ceres knew that she was just that good at holding her liquor. And Octavius deserved at least that much, considering how long it took for him to hit the ground. "Just don't think I'll be sitting still until then~"