[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/895368216371691534/929559062708887662/Travisheadpic.png[/img] [h3][color=cyan]Travis d’Arcy[/color][/h3]
[@EnterTheHero][@tobiax][/center]
[h3][b][i]LOWER DECK 2[/i][/b][/h3]
[i]“Oi, watch the merch!”[/i]
[hr]
She--wait, was this person a woman? The pink hair and the robes made him think that way at first, but he...wasn't sure about the voice. And the Japanese style clothes hid a lot of other features that would've been distinguishing. But, whoever they were, they stared at him for several long moments before answering. In his coat pocket, the palm of his hand tensed against his pistol.

”Hm. No, I don’t suppose I am. And I don’t suppose you are, either, judging by the cold sweat.”

Travis let out a shaky breath. They walked closer, flicking the blood from their sword. He wondered just what a [i]pro[/i] like this was doing on a passenger cruise. A sword meant getting up close and personal with somebody...an assassin? The thief didn't think there were any bigwigs on the ship...or at least, none of the safes he'd hit so far hinted at that kind of status.

”I have business with these hijackers, as it turns out. I’d suggest you return to your cabin, but they’ve probably knocked the damn handle of, same as mine. I can’t very well leave you here to be harpooned by some Neanderthal, so… follow me. I’ll see us through this mess, but please, don’t end up underfoot. I can’t guarantee your safety if you between me and my enemy.”

"Oh, believe me," Travis said, putting his other hand in his pocket as well, "I keep me head well out of trouble..." But the bloodied figure kept going--and not in the direction Travis wanted. "Oi, uh...shouldn't we be headin' [i]above[/i] deck--"

There were two noises, simultaneous, yet easily picked out by their direction and style. Both footsteps. Both groups of more than one person. The first sounded lighter, quieter, except for a distinct, metallic [i]tink tink tink[/i]. The latter, heavier, more numerous--by quite a bit. Travis's head whipped back and forth--and the latter group proved to be the most urgent.

The sound of flippery boots tromped down the stairs towards the cabins. There was a slamming from below, and the echoing sounds of the engine were drowned out. A cluster of ten divers, harpoon launchers on point, flowed down the stairs, beginning to march into range behind Travis. As they approached, one of the more eager of the divers fired.

"Right then!" As soon as he saw the rifle come up he'd made a dive for the nearest broken-in cabin door. The harpoon tore right through one of his whipping coat tails as he tumbled to the floor in a roll, then scrambled onto all fours. He looked out at the swordsperson as he straightened his glasses. "There's your enemy, and here's me out the way!"

Now that he was in cover, he grabbed the pistol once more and made sure the safety was off. He popped the magazine out just to check--one in the barrel, thirteen more ready to go--then slammed it back in. The 9mm probably wouldn't do much if those suits had any armor, but it was better than nothing. He tried to calm himself down.

[i]You or them, mate, no choice. They shot first--[/i]

He stopped, gulping down fear for just a moment.

[i]I ain't the one holding the bloody sword.[/i] Why would they shoot at [i]him[/i] first? Just to get rid of the easier target? But why get rid of anyone at all--he'd already seen that there were no bodies, and limited harm done in struggles with other passengers. Why did these new arrivals go for the kill right off the bat? And, again, why [i]him?[/i]

"Who the hell even are you knobs!?" he yelled out the doorway, keeping his back to the wall between him and the hallway. No guarantee they'd answer--if tall, pink, and deadly there didn't have them too occupied already--but why not ask? Just to be polite, right? He scoffed at his own joke.