There was a resounding click around the deck as harpoon guns were leveled at the lounging young woman.
"I said get down!" one of them called out, even though that particular diver hadn't said anything so specific.
One of the assailants was then sent to the helm, and was directing the ship as the helmsman and captain were tormented by their leader.
Two of the divers crouched into the cargo hold, carrying the long duffle bag between them and placing it on the floor. As they began to open it, they heard a strange sound, and the rustling of someone else's clothes, and the clattering of a gun. Rapidly turning, they saw a scrawny young man standing there. One of the divers fired a harpoon at the stranger, while the other took a time to withdraw a pistol from a pouch, and opened fire, five loud shots ringing out in the cargo bay.
Below decks, a line of divers snaked out, fanning out down every hall, and kicking in doors. When they found someone, they would drag them out, sometimes by their hair, and take them above deck. As they approached a recently locked door, they kicked it in, only to have it stand firm. Several divers swarmed the door, those behind firing harpoons into it. The dark metal barbs pierced clean through the door, hooking on to the other side. Being tethered to their harpoon guns, they made good anchors against which the divers could pull, ripping the door from the wall. With the door out of the way, the five in front fired their own harpoons at the young man who seemed to be packing.
When the divers first appeared, a figure with pink hair and a coat loosely tied at the shoulders stood looking over the stern. It took the sound of several of the divers landing upon the deck for the figure to turn around, casting an almost cloudy green gaze over the deck, seeing the harpoon wielding divers beginning to amass. With a slight crouch and a flip of the foot, the spear that had been resting on the deck was brought bouncing up, caught softly in a slim hand. Pulling up the coat's collar, the figure mumbled something as he was approached by the divers.
The spear in hand had a slight coil to the shaft, almost as if it were two winding strands of wood made one. This pattern seemed to continue past the small tuft of what looked like feathers and the somewhat large leaf hanging from the end of the shaft, where the rather smooth, simple spear head was set, a strange barbed coil twisting around it with a considerable distance. Leveling the spear in his left hand, Gero leveled it towards the divers. A moment later, and he dashed forward, leaving a puff of yellowish pollen behind, as he slammed the spear's shaft against the closest diver's side. The diver yelped as he was then bashed upwards, the spear catching his hand and throwing him off his feet into the air. Now leaping after, Gero lunged into the air, snapping the spear down in a broad swing before stabbing the 'frogman', sending him crashing back into the deck, and sliding a short distance before Gero landed.
For the moment, the diver did not get back up, but the others seemed to be closing in on the young spear wielder, who passed a semi-clouded gaze over the attackers, "Hopefully, this will make for decent exercise," he remarked, holding the spear up and back in his left hand, while taking a fluid stance, and raising his free hand with his fingers curled slightly down and his thumb bent slightly in.
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