"I've never heard of an ex-marine. What's stopping you from turning me over? I've got to be worth a few hundred gold still, probably more, now that I'm out on the seas again." Octavius clearly didn't care that it had been fifteen years since the woman had served with the Royal Marines. No one just stopped being a marine. It was a mindset, a lifestyle. She said she was a deserter, said she got herself a bounty just to get away from her ship. But that could be all words. He wouldn't have been surprised, to be honest. Of course she had to get up and offer him her word and all that nonsense now. "The only good marine, is a dead marine." he said, even as he shook her hand, a hard look in his eyes. "I'm only going to tell you once. Don't fuck me, Ceres. Don't you ever try to fuck me..." he meant that in a figurative sense. If she really wanted to, he supposed a literal attempt would be acceptable, but he wasn't going to put up with her screwing around, or doing anything shady. He supposed everything they did was shady. It was probably the lawful things he would have to look out for.

Having built up sufficient suspicion, the pirate was now too paranoid to eat, and he figured he would probably go dine with the crew when they were done this meeting of sorts. Ceres had promised that she wasn't with the marines, and even offered to prove it. But that was an easy smokescreen to set. Now his mind was supposed to be at ease. But it wasn't. Captain Cuttlam hadn't gotten this far by being sane or reasonable. Psychotic paranoia was the way to go in his books. Especially around marines and their ilk. Unfortunately, he couldn't just kill this woman, she had made that much clear. She was probably some sort of albatross, manifesting in human form. He couldn't think of any other ways to explain her luck. He just wondered how her south winds might blow if he left her alive. He supposed they would have to brave the fog and find out. For now, he would cling to what worked. Not eating her cooking was probably an excellent start...