[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjY2LjIzY2ZlNy5RMkZsYzJGeS4w/vtks-madalena.regular.png[/Img][/center] [hr] [I]Falling, flying, rising Up and down, spinning darkness The sun, the moon The highs, the mess Lost in unknown lands Falling on hands Lifted up, up, up...[/I] Caesar sat up in the cot, blinking furiously as he tried to make sense of the divergence from Saban to where he was now. He couldn't hear any fighting, no sounds of alarm, just the gentle rocking of the Sea. This was definitely the Rum Runner, he recognized that much. A glance around showed him his machete leaning against the wall nearby. He was covered, comfortably, and there was water. He idly wondered who had returned him here, before the panic over the fight fully set back in. He needed to make sure everyone was okay. Rising quickly, he winced. While his injuries were covered, and the effects of one of Lilliana's blends could be felt, it still hurt. Adrenaline was wearing off, which meant he couldn't have been out long. He took the machete, walking as quickly as felt reasonable back to the top deck. He must've been out maybe ten minutes, for most of the crew was still not on board. With a sigh, he approached Boone and Liliana, who were standing close by. [Color=00aeef]"Orders, Captain?"[/color] he asked roughly, the physical exhaustion carrying over into his voice. [Color=00aeef]"Also... Thank you, Lil. I assume it was you who texted my injuries, judging by the feeling I have."[/color]