Luther and Octavius had been on a sort of partially-guided tour of the area while Ceres was out wandering. And while she'd been remaining committed to her shenanigans the newly reacquainted pirates had turned their tour into a pub crawl, sharing a couple of drinks at every alcohol-serving establishment they could find. The two were drunk in a hurry, and having a ball. Most of the people in their way didn't get to enjoy such a good time, but they were enjoying themselves too much to care. Unfortunately, not everyone they bowled over was willing to put up with the injustice, and it didn't take very long for the two of them to find themselves in a good old-fashioned brawl.

Too drunk to remember to use his magical powers, but sober enough to fight like the monster inside him, the warlord easily held his own against the various sailors and deckhands that wanted to vent their outrage. Luther had a little more trouble, at least until he remembered that he was travelling with someone who used to be one of the most feared pirates in the world. With that in mind, he redirected his own attackers into the path of Captain Cuttlam, only to watch them drop like all the rest, the pirate lord's fists flew like lightning. Drunken, disoriented and confused lightning, but lightning nonetheless. And even intoxicated as he was, wild haymakers seemed to do him just fine as the half dozen or so men he was fighting went down one after another. The last couple backed off when they realized that this night wasn't going to go their way, and the pirates thought that they might return to their tavern crawl, heading off toward the nearest bar.

By the time they finished their next drink, Octavius and Luther were jovial once more. Immersed in their cheerful reminiscing, it was clear that anything productive that might have been planned, or even considered, for the evening, wasn't about to happen. The two stuck to revelling in their drunkenness and generally disturbing those around them, the thought of doing anything other than rejoicing was repulsive by this point,  so they ran from their responsibilities even as they ran from one drinking establishment to the next, ensuring that anyone who might want to interrupt their merriment would have a hell of a time doing so, at the very least...