[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjExNi5iMTZmZWIuUW05dVpXdHBaQSwsLjAAAAAA/vtks-deja-vu.regular.png[/img]
[color=a187be][b][h3]Performing for the Gun Show?![/h3][/b][/color][sup](hugging [@yoshua171]'s leg)[/sup][/center]
Bonekid listened to the pirate as he stood with his crewmates, sword tightly clenched in his hand. They were given a deal, and the deal was simple. They fought to keep their goods, or they lost their goods fighting. There was clearly one option here, which was to - [color=cyan]"I accept! You had me going there for a second!"[/color]

With an abrupt smack on his back, Feya had answered the question for the crew already. Before Bonekid could even speak his own mind, Boone shot in and agreed with Feya, sealing the deal since he was the captain. Bonekid wasn't opposed with the decision, it was what he was going to make initially. There wasn't any other option that would be sane to take. The crew had to fight, it was the only way that they'd survive this ordeal and keep their clothes (and other things).

Bonekid unsheathed his sword and hugged it tightly as he realized the severity of the situation at hand. If the Rums lost here, it was incredibly likely that the Rum Runner wouldn't be the only thing that Bonekid would be losing here. His sword was being offered on the table, and Bonekid couldn't let that be lost to these ruffians! They can't wield it properly, only he can! Out of pure anxiety, Bonekid drifted to his mother's leg as he hugged her, keeping his sword close to the two. 

Caesar said something about his herbs, and it went over Bonekid's head. He was too focused on another detail. Slick was also raving about Bonekid helping him create his special brand of art, and it flew over Bonekid as well. He couldn't think about that when his sword was on the line. 

He wouldn't lose. He couldn't afford it.

Wherever Bonekid's sword touched his body, the bones that once made up Bonekid began to cover up in layers of foliage and vines, acting as some sort of quasi-skin for him. Whether it was him doing it himself, nobody could tell, not even him, but he was too caught up with anxiety to notice it at the time.