Octavius shook his head when Ceres announced his arrival. She said something about luck, and he muttered some things about luck that involved her and the storm. Then the storm really hit them. They lost a man to a punishing gust of wind, which picked up and tossed a sailor into the drink from near the top of the rigging. No one even bothered to try and save him. Having watched the man fall, the pirate knew there was no point, and it seemed everyone else was of the same opinion. So they kept working, with Captain Cuttlam leading the way. It didn't take long to secure everything, and make the ship ready for the storm, but they still had to be out and about, ready to respond to threats, or deal with unpleasantness. This ship wasn't big enough for them to cower below decks and ride it out. And then, because the storm wasn't enough, a waterspout sprung up off their port side. Feeling very vindicated, the pirate grinned, moving to the bow of the ship as they steered toward the thing. It wasn't far off, and their only hope was that the thing moved. If it didn't move the right way, the lot of them were dead. Octavius was more than happy to turn around and lock eyes with the woman currently steering the ship. He put on his best "I told you so" face, and dragged his thumb across his throat, before gesturing to the lot of them. There was no one anyone would hear him over the wind.

They were headed straight into death and destruction, and the pirate at the bow of the ship was ecstatic. He was right. Women were bad luck. So bad, that they'd get everyone killed by steering straight into a giant waterspout that sprang up almost out of nowhere. It was a relief, to know he had been right. It was almost worth dying, just to show Ceres that she was wrong. Such was the madness that the man had descended into...