[b]Vasilia and Dolce![/b]

At first, Iskarot's instinct during your conversation seems to be to fold his hands in his lap and wait impatiently for your moment of warmth and affection to be over so he can go on with his discussion of important numbers. But then there's a brief flicker of yellow and red amidst the lights beneath his hood and he strangely changes course.

"I apologize, I was under the misconception that you were in a monogamous relationship," said the Hermetic. "But if the sheep is married to one or more planetary denizen(s) then I will have the imperial head recalculate our route. The lost time will be more than made up for with Aphrodite's favour in reassembling his harem. Captain, which worlds are these lost lovers located upon?"

[b]Big Bone Lick![/b]

You chose for your pirate name Big Bone Lick. This was an act of creativity for which you are still proud. 

You inherited this ship, this crew, and these tactics from your weird uncle, New Ganymede, who died along with his heir in some sort of Shakespeare thing. You asked Hades if that meant you were going to see ghosts, and Hades said yes. You still kind of worry about him saying that, but you won a cool pocketwatch from the God of the Dead afterwards so you think you came out ahead.

You charge your Empathic Obliterator and blow up a couple of mice servitors coming at you with knives. You think that's awesome, but not in, like, a way that's worth remembering. It's awesome in the way that fried chicken burger you had this morning was awesome. You've had a lot of awesome burgers in your role as pirate queen. A couple of mice rain down from the ceiling, extremely dead, as you push ahead. You note the heavy weaponry and something in your brain tells you that this was a trap for you. You tell your brain 'that owns'.

The Empathic Obliterator is your favourite gun and you're always looking for excuses to use it - and in fact, if you have any sort of low cunning, it comes in the mastery of this weapon. Nobody really gets it like you do. See, what it does is that it kills the target, and then it finds everyone nearby who is thinking like the target and kills them too. It's an absolutely poggers weapon to have in mutinies, or against fancy-pants militaries doing the super-discipline-and-coordination thing. It's why you work so hard to maintain your beautiful one-of-a-kind individuality, Big Bone Lick, you singularly creative soul, you snowflake in the rough. If nobody is deep enough to, like, [i]get[/i] you then you'll never accidentally Shakespeare yourself.

You're dimly aware that the other Plovers in your lance are struggling but you don't mind. This ship is like, [i]fancy[/i]. The fancier you are the more dangerous you are, and that's a fact. That's why you had the people stitch together a giant white-and-blue leather admiral's coat for your Plover, gilt with gold. Because you, Big Bone Lick, are dangerous as [i]fuck[/i].

And this catgirl chick doesn't even have pants on. This should be another awesomeburger of a fight. 

Probably the mouse is in charge, that necklace looks pretty fancy. You wonder if it'd make a good ring around one of your Plover's fingers.