Right Kind Of Crazy


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Scene Title Right Kind of Crazy
Synopsis After the Forthright crew make a lucrative score, Asi and Silas celebrate by taking a vacation.
Date May 4, 2018

In an unnamed inlet, somewhere south of the Pelago


"Yes, this is well-deserved."

Asi sighs luxuriously, lounging back on the sun-bleached cushions of the large pontoon she's rented. The shade is drawn up to prevent a direct beatdown from the offending sun, which shines brightly above. They'd swung up an inland inlet, weighing anchor in an area surrounded by greenery and the sounds of nature. It's peaceful here, the water deep enough to dive in safely while the current is gentle enough leaping overboard won't irretrievably separate one from their craft. Well-worn life jackets repurposed as floaties are in a pile by the ladder. Alcohol without ice is stored in the shade, hidden away in an open cabinet.

It's not quite spring break, but it is a trip south of the Pelago.

After a particularly fruitful "liberation" job parting scoundrels from more than just the stolen goods they'd gone to reclaim, Asi had taken one look at her cut of the share and declared it needed immediately spent doing something enjoyable. And for the most part, it's spent well-alone away from the hub-bub of the rest of the Forthright crew.

Mew. Opening one eye, Asi peers at the one-eyed cat that Eve had insisted be taken along, which jumps up on the cushion, narrowly avoiding landing directly on her bare legs.

Well. she thinks to herself. Away from most of the crew, anyway.

Silas sits in the shade, a battered fishing rod in hand; in several places it's wrapped in tape, evidence of past breaks. "Well-timed, at the very least," he offers in reply, glancing over to Asi with a grin. "Couldn't ask for better weather," he adds, before turning his attention back to the sea.

Usually after a generous score, there's too much idle time for Silas's liking… and if there's going to be downtime anyway, better to spend it somewhere he won't be tempted to do something like crazy like go clean the Forthright's bilge. Far better to try and take an actual vacation.

So… fishing! He'd have set some traps on the island in hopes of snagging something to grill, but that's not really his area of expertise and he doesn't have the spices for a decent marinade anyway, so… fishing. Better than nothing, and grilled fish can certainly be quite tasty. He's not gone for the alcohol quite yet—he intends to raid that later. He might need some for the fish… if he catches any, at least.

Asi's in the process of sitting up to shoo the cat off her seat when it leaps past her to the control console, mewing again at them both. She shrugs her shoulders, legs extending out before her in a toe-wriggling stretch while she watches for any telltale bobs of Silas's fishing gear.

"Do you always have to be working?" she teases him. "You're wasting good relaxation time out here." Not that she has any room to speak! More often than not, time not spent at sea with the crew saw her getting into a whole variety of activities, for a lack of being able to keep idle. Too much time alone with her thoughts.

Who knew how long she'd last before she started fussing with something that didn't need fussed with at all. A sturdy, rebound Library book is set by her side as a last-ditch effort to avoid descending into that madness — a blessedly Japanese-scribed copy of Murakami Haruki's A Wild Sheep Chase.

"Did you catch anything good yet, at least?" she asks, squinting at his handiwork.

Silas glances over as Asi stretches; he debates teasing her, but she beats him to the punch, eliciting a chuckle. "Ha! Sorry, Aces, but this is probably the closest I get to relaxing." He pauses, staring out at the sea. "'S hard for me. Sittin' still, I mean," he shrugs.

Her second question draws a grimace. "A few. Smallfry, though," he admits, gesturing to a rope tied to the pontoon's railing, leading down into the water below — a stringer. "I mean, it'll be enough for a meal, but I was kinda hopin' for—"

Even as he's speaking he feels a tug at the line. "—that, maybe," he says, focused intently on the line. "Come on, fishy. Go ahead and take a bite. Nothin' suspicious here… nothin' at all," he murmurs.

Head tilting to the side, she watches the rod dip forward with the pull on the line, grinning at his susurrations to the water. "Is that the best way to land them?" she slily asks as she flips around in her lounging seat, resting on her elbows to peer off the edge of the boat for a look at what he's got hooked. For all her ribbing, she's watching on in interest. The sounds of nature around them ebb and seem to hold their breath as well for whatever comes next.

"Mmm. Not for most, maybe," Silas says, eyes still focused keenly on the water, still murmuring in that soft, almost hypnotic tone. "I'm not really all that good at fishing, honestly, but I've got a little trick to make things a bit easier for me."

The bobber bobs again. Whatever it is that's down there is at least interested. "Still not a hundred percent, of course. Most of 'em don't have brains to speak of, and you can't really con an idiot for much. But some of the craftier ones can recognize bait when they see it, and for them…"

Silas trails off as the bobber starts to bob once more… then it goes under, and Silas jerks the rod in response. "Gotcha!" he calls… and then whatever it is on the end of the line pulls back, and there's enough force behind it to almost pull the rod from his hands. "Oho! We're eatin' good tonight if I can get this one in!" he calls exultantly.

Asi laughs loudly at his exuberance, maintaining her perch on her elbows. If she's heard of the rule about being quiet to avoid disturbing or frightening the fish, she's clearly discarding it. Besides, this one's already on the hook, isn't it? "Come on, Snickers, have a little faith in yourself!" she encourages, patting her hand loudly on the seat. "Go, go, go!"

It is a great sport he's participating in, after all. She might as well treat it for what it is.

Silas wrestles with the rod as the fish pulls first one way, then the other; the fish is fighting hard. On the other hand, be damned if he's going to lose a fight with dinner, especially when a cute girl is cheering him on. Thankfully, his equipment is up to the task, and a couple of minutes later he's scooping his catch out of the water and putting it up on the deck.

It's a long, lean-looking fish, not quite two feet long; Silas recognizes it. "Haddock!" he calls, seeming even more enthusiastic as the thing thrashes about in the net. "Good eating." He pulls out a seperate stringer for the big catch, clips the haddock with it, and ties the other end to the railing before tossing it back—the fresher the fish is, the better, after all.

He lets out a deep breath. "And now maybe I can relax a bit."

Once the fish is swung up on deck and Asi's laughter fades, it's even quieter than before. It's more than a lull— it's become tension at this point. One pushed at by the sound of a distant buzz.

"Kodara, very nice." Ask agrees, pushing herself up into a proper sit while he clips the fish. Her brow arches up almost sternly as she adds, "Yes, definitely relax. Take a swim or something." She comes to her feet, arms stretching above her head again. "And maybe—"

Mid-stretch, she pauses, eyes starting to open again in suspicion of the growing buzz in the air. It's punctuated and confirmed real as the distant sound of a whoop accompanies the noise that only grows in volume as it comes closer. Asi blinks, arms falling as she turns to Silas fully. It sounded like another boat was coming.

There's no words on her part, just a quick glance back to the storage cabinet, where her sword is also stored. She seriously considers grabbing it for a moment, having to weigh auto-escalating any situation by being armed against the prospect of not being armed in the presence of strangers. Furthermore, it's not like there's any place on her bikini to hide a katana.

Asi looks back to Silas rapidly, looking for his split-second assessment. The look in her eyes speaks enough for her: What should we do?

Silas's attention is definitely focused on Asi, a small smile on his lips… he takes a moment longer than she does to pick up on the distant buzz. The whoop, though, does get his attention. Shit, he thinks emphatically, but does not say. He looks to Asi, and sees she's looking to him. Alrighty, then.

It could just be some revelers out for some fun who'd had the bad luck and doubly-awful timing to crash their little retreat; sure, it could be that. Or it could be something worse. He knows Asi has a katana; he's got a few knives, so they aren't entirely unarmed, at least. They see us deserted, they might try and salvage us. That would be… awkward. Gotta have at least one person in sight. Probably not both.

"I'll stay in the open. If they're just out for a cruise, I can probably talk em around," Silas says. "You're the insurance policy. Keep low, behind the sideboards, get your sword. If they don't spot you from afar… I've got a trick that can keep them from seeing you once they're in close. Even if they look straight at you, they won't see you."

Asi nods, looking at him even though she's treading back toward where her sword is stored. "Just play the fisherman. Even if they mean harm, they probably won't shoot first if they don't think you're a threat." Slinging it over her shoulder, she adjusts the strap to keep the top of the sheath higher than normal; all the better to keep water off it unless absolutely necessary. Still barefoot, she slings one leg over the side railing, holding on from the outside and looking further down the sound in the direction the engine's buzz is coming up to a roar. She preemptively crouches low, head still poked up to see what comes.

It's not long before a zippy speedboat comes cruising down the water, its passengers still hollering with delight. There's an active whine and the nose of their vessel starts tipping downward, slowing as the pontoon is noticed. All told, there seems to be four aboard their boat; three men and one woman, all very interested in the presence of other signs of life out this way. The pilot of the other boat pushes his sunglasses up his forehead to peer out at Silas. "Ahoy there!" he calls.

Should Silas turn, Asi is simply gone, no sign of where she might be hiding.

Silas nods back, grinning; seems their thoughts run along similar lines. As she makes ready, he grips his fishing rod and turns his attention back to the sea. Let's see. How would I react if I were actually some schmuck out on a solo fishing expedition with nothing to hide? Hm… on my feet, staring dumbly, fishing rod in one hand. Sounds good.

That's the pose he assumes, and that's the pose he's standing in when the speedboat comes into sight. He doesn't turn—either Asi's out of sight or she isn't, and either way it's best that he isn't looking around like he's got something to hide. As soon as they're within range, though, Silas reaches out to them, his will settling over their minds like haze. There isn't anyone else on board this boat. No one at all.

"Ahoy!" Silas calls back heartily. "Didn't expect to see anyone else about. You lot takin' a vacation, too?"

The youngest, possibly drunkest of the partiers just grins. "Naw, we're—" he starts before he's soundly punched in the arm by the woman. "Uh, yeah! Just … enjoying life!"

"As one does," the pilot adds in agreement, leaning forward on the top windshield, arms folded there in a perch. As their ship drifts closer, sending out waves and causing the pontoon to wobble back and forth, he peers at it. "You just… out here by yourself?" He glances to the rod in Silas's hand. "Fishing?"

They don't seem to be armed, any of them — at least visibly. If they've come for vacationing, though, they've done it in full clothes. The tan-skinned woman with them has a bandana tied around her neck, hanging loosely. Overall, they seem just as surprised as Silas is; not having expected to find anyone else in their spot.

Silas doesn't appear to notice the drunkard's slip, keeping his gaze focused mostly on the pilot. "Yep. Good day for it, too," Silas nods, glancing at the sky. "Caught a few small fry and a decent sized halibut; oughta be able to get a good meal out of it, maybe enough leftovers for my breakfast. There's a certain satisfaction that comes from catchin' your food yourself, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah sure." the pilot calls back over the tops of his arms, feigning being totally keyed into the conversation while he thinks about how to proceed. His jaw works in silence for a moment too long, the other unspoken man on the vessel turning back to him quizzically.

"Well?" he asks, blackened brow arching upward. "We going?" He's impatient, nervous.

The pilot sucks in his teeth, still eyeing Silas critically. "Yeah…" he intones reluctantly, leaning back from his perch and then glancing to a spot on the shore nearby. He tips his sunglasses back down and starts to exchange a few hushed words between himself and the rest of his mates.

Jesus, man. Come on. At least pretend you're not shadier than an email about an inheritance from a Nigerian prince, Silas thinks behind his poker face. He's still hoping to make it out of this without having to knife anyone, but at this point he thinks the odds are rather dubious.

Still, if these shady assholes are murderous enough to try and murder some random fisherman because he's seen their island, all that's left is to lure them in and surprise them before they surprise him. They'll probably board and try to knife him on his own boat; doesn't look like any of them have guns, at least, so that's hopeful. Ball's in your court, kids. No crying if you start something that someone else finishes.

The conversation between the group on the speedboat gets more heated. There's two separate cases of "Are you kidding me?" that pour off, escaping the otherwise hushed tones their exchange. The woman actually groans, turning away from them to stalk to the end of their boat and shake her head to herself. An unsubtle glare is shot in Silas's direction.

The other three eventually part ways, and it's the grinning drunkard who comes to lean over the railing to peer down at Silas next. "About how long you plan on being out here?" he asks, bottle in hand. "We don't want to swim in your lines or nothing!"

Silas shrugs. "I was gonna stick it out till about sunset…" he says thoughtfully, then his face falls. "But with speedboats about, the game changes. Hard t'catch em when ya got high-end engines runnin' 'bout. I reckon I'll be pullin' up soon."

And now: exit, stage left. He pauses, letting a puzzled expression steal over his face. "Ye're goin' swimmin', though? But ya ain't even wearin' swimsuits. Unless…"

There is, for a moment, a silence. It's the kind of silence that will end in awful violence in about three seconds. 1. 2…

And now a horrible goatish grin comes over his face. "Y'all goin' skinnydippin', ain'tcha!" he exclaims, in the kind of voice that every dad everywhere has used to embarrass their youngers. "Well why didn't you say so?"

"I been swimmin' in the nude many a time, back in the day," he cackles. Before the 'partyers' can recover, he raises his hands. "No, I know, I know, ain't nothin' ruins a good nekkid swim party like some strange old man runnin' round, mumbling about God knows what. I'll let you to your partyin'," he says, laying down his rod and hobbling towards the controls. He looks back to them one last time. "Y'all enjoy yerselves, ya hear?"

The pilot's hand remains tense and in his waistband, face grim even though the drunk is laughing his ass off at the idea of skinny-dipping in these waters. The woman on the boat is looking back at the pilot intensely, her eyes screaming at him about an action either taken or not taken. She's not an actor, it seems, and makes no attempt to play along with their game.

"He fucking knows, just—" she starts to hiss, only to get shushed violently at by the nervous man with the bushy brow. She's incensed, though, convinced in her paranoia. "There ain't ever been anyone out here before when we ran liquor before, it's that fucking Carl trying to get in on us, just fucking shoot him."

"Aw, come on, Maisie, we ain't ever seen this ship or this guy in our lives." The drunkard rounds on her with a carefree grin. "Ain't no way—"

Silas is aware that the 'partyers' are starting to lose it, and he hears the words 'shoot him' involved, which is generally a bad look for conversations he's involved in. Well shit.

If they have a gun, that changes things. His trick's got a decent range, but nowhere near as long as the line of fire on a gun. He can't outrun a speedboat in a pontoon, either… and as trigger happy as these assholes seem to be, now that Miss Paranoia's spilt the beans, they're all but obligated to shoot him.

If it's them or us, I know which I want to live, he thinks, not without some slight regret.

He stumbles. "Aces!" he calls, saying it with the inflection he'd use for a curse word — the better for these assholes not to realize it's a call for violence until it's too late. He drops to the floor, breaking line of sight, and—

There's no one here anymore, except for you four. He slams that into them like a tidal wave, his mind drowning the pieces of their brains that are supposed to process the sights and sounds they perceive.

There's only four of them he has to mask them from; granted, three of the four are suspicious as hell, but even so, hiding two people from four is easy money. He crawls, repositioning himself; he doesn't want Shades managing to put a bullet into him just by shooting where he'd last been, after all.

Now, the games begin.

"Just shut up, you're all making everything worse," the pilot is shouting now too, gun drawn from his belt finally. He rounds back toward the pontoon, arm extending out. "Now we gotta—

"Wait. Wait, where'd he go?" There's the sound of all of them scrambling. "Did he dive?"

"Look for bubbles! Keep an eye on the water!" The woman calls out, believing herself keen.

"Man, I ain't heard shit for splashing…" The drunk points out.

"Maybe if you all just quit yelling at each other," the nervous man grouses loudly, leaning over the railing.

"He fucking took off for the still, I fucking bet you." The woman concludes, rounding on the pilot. He's continuing to point the gun toward the pontoon, a look of abject confusion centered toward where he'd definitely seen someone on the other boat only seconds earlier. He's processing. It's taking a minute, mastermind that he is.

When Silas edges into his different position, he can see Asi between two of the panels on the side railing, half-submerged and still hanging off the side of the boat. She shoots a look at him in silence.

She's not happy with the way this is being handled, but neither is she exactly in a position to complain.

Silas meets her look with a frustrated one of his own; he's not happy about the way this is going either, but he'd be less happy with a bullet to the brain.

Most of the time, anyway.

"Can't outrun a speedboat. Or a bullet. If they board, I'll keep you stealth long enough to creep up and take the gun. Otherwise we wait until they clear the area and then bail," he murmurs, taking a moment to make sure that they don't pay any mind to his words, either… although there's probably not a whole of need for it, given how loudly Miss Paranoia is ranting.

There's another way he could deal with this, of course. A much uglier way… but he's betting that Asi would like that one even less, and he knows that it's not to his taste.

Asi simply narrows her eyes in response. She's not going to risk talking. Wearily, she unlocks her gaze from his, head bowed while she listens. Hanging off the side of the boat they'd rented in nothing but a katana and a bathing suit was not how she'd envisioned spending the day.

"Jason," the woman is haranguing the pilot now. "Come on, we've got to hurry." She's convinced. And as much as the man with the gun doesn't want to believe it, her idea is the only one making a lick of sense right now.

But then he hears the sound of a cat from the other boat. It sits perched atop the console, right by the keys. It mews noisily, probably hungry. Did it only have one eye?

"Max, you're taking his boat," the pilot decides reluctantly, nodding at the drunk one. He seems deeply amused by all that, and just nods. "Right on, party boat!" He throws up some horns, finding this to be an excellent turn of events. He apparently doesn't believe for a second this greater conspiracy exists, but he'll sure as heck believe that Silas disappeared into thin air and definitely isn't lurking anywhere around.

It takes a minute for the boats to be lined up to each other so he can leap from the speedboat down to the pontoon deck. "We'll be back in a bit," the pilot calls out before speeding off toward a spot on the nearby shore.

Asi glances back to Silas, giving him a slight nod as she adjusts her grip, ready to crawl back aboard. Only if he was ready.

The drunk man, Max, is having the time of his life trying to hold a conversation with the one-eyed cat, in the meanwhile.


Kind of a pity it wasn't Maisie who got the boat—he wouldn't have minded clubbing her on the back of the head and leaving her hogtied on the shore, whereas he actually kinda likes Max; Silas has a soft spot for idiots, having been one himself when he was young.

He nods to Asi, gesturing for her to come on up; he stays crouched by the railing, watching the speedboat. Max is under his spell; it's the three in the speedboat he need to stay hidden from. "Come on up," he says quietly, keeping Max oblivious. "Keep low, though. I can hide us up close, but I can't reach the three on the boat from here." He pauses. "Way I see it, we got a couple of ways to handle this. Either we dump Max on the wrong side of the island and run… or, if you're feeling daring, we can let him take us in, I'll mess with their boat a bit, and then we can run."

Pulling herself back up, Asi trails water behind her as she immediately crouches again with a check toward the speedboat. Nope. It hadn't rounded back for them yet. When she looks back to Silas again, she can't help but look annoyed. "They wanted to cut our throats and you're going to suggest just dumping him?" she whispers incredulously.

Silas arches an eyebrow. "If they'd actually wanted to cut our throats, this'd be over already; they'd have tried, I'd have put a knife in one of them and you'd have probably have done some really impressive sword kata or… whatever… and decapitated or dismembered them or something," Silas shrugs, managing to stop himself before he says something about doing sudoku on them.

He takes a breath. "Bitchtits wanted to shoot us. The other two were shady. This doof…"

He looks to where Max is still carrying on a conversation with Mad Eve's cat, then looks back to Asi with an arched eyebrow; that scene conveys his point clearly enough he doesn't feel additional words are needed. "I mean, your call. But if you kill him, we've still gotta deal with outrunning a speedboat — and bullets — with a pontoon."

"Unless we kill em all, of course," he adds. He's not particularly keen on that option, but he can live with it if he has to.

Asi brings her hands to her face, rubbing her eyes wearily. "Okay," she whispers. "Okay."

Max is in the middle of trying to pet the cat, hand extended out. The one-eyed cat hisses sharply at that. "Hey, come on, I thought we had something special working out between us," he laments, quite sad about he turn in events. "Because it's just me and you and that guy that up and abandoned a pretty little well-fed thing like yourself. I mean look at you? You're just darling. And now it's just us! Just you, and me, and none of the people, 'cause the world's gone to shit—"

She blinks several times, bewildered by whatever tune he's singing and spinning to his own lyrics. She just looks back at Silas. "Let's just get going. They're heading ashore, will have to run back before they get the advantage of speed. Maybe they just think he's taking a joyride, leave us alone for a while." Asi confirms that the speedboat's not got anyone on it right now with another look, weight shifting in her crouch. So let's just keep him aboard for now, dump him near land further down." Taking her chances, she stands upright and walks gingerly past the drunk before making a 'shoo' gesture at the cat over his shoulder. It chirps again and jumps off to go perch on a different seat instead, and off goes Max after it … leaving the navigational console free.

"And I can't keep my eyes off of youuuuu~" Max sings the whole while.

Asi places her hand on the key, glancing back to Silas. Ready? the look asks.

Silas nods to Asi, settling down near the back of the pontoon in a relaxed posture, drawing his filleting knife—he doesn't think Max is gonna be a problem, but getting that established early will go a long way towards making sure that nothing bad actually happens.

He waits for Asi to hit the controls and get them started moving, waits for drunk's inevitable confused turn back towards the console. Sneaking up behind people is bad enough, but sneaking up in front of someone is the sort of thing that causes coronaries and mental breakdowns.

As soon as Max has turned all the way away, he drops the glamour concealing himself—though not the one concealing Asi. Not yet. "Hey," he calls. "How bout you have a seat for a minute, friend? We need to talk." His voice is calm and reassuring, his face set in a small, patient smile… and his filleting knife gleams brightly in his hand as he lounges, just out of easy reach.

The sound of the engine immediately catches Max's attention, who rounds about with a "Huh?" followed by a startled "Bwuh!" of noise, scrabbling back away from the knife. "Y—"

"Y-y-you're one of them!" he stammers out, pointing in shock at Silas and dropping his bottle. The cat mews loudly in reply, its tail curling around its body before it starts grooming itself proudly. Gotcha.

"Gotta keep him from shouting, Snickers," Asi says, head bowed while she listens to the engine, letting it warm for now. She looks back at the startled drunk, eyes narrowing at exactly how he chooses to describe Silas's ability. "何だと?" The us vs. them mentality was something she was never particularly rational around.

"Wh-what are you, an invisible guy? You just … poof?" Max is laughing nervously, his hands starting to raise in surrender at the sign of that knife that Silas is carrying.

"Invisible? Ha! I wish," Silas chuckles affably. "Nah. Nothing that good. Trick I picked up in 'Nam. Took years to get the hang of it," he says, waving his free hand airily. A blatant lie, but one told with a twinkle in his eye and his grin on his lips.

Silas nods as the man starts to raise his hands. "Smart man! Good. You keep being smart, the only thing I'll need to do with this is prepare those fish I caught. Wasn't lyin' about that, by the way; landed a pretty nice halibut. Anyway, have a seat! You're currently a guest aboard this boat; behave appropriately, and you'll leave it none the worse for the wear. Can ya do that for me?"

His eyes flicker to Asi at her outburst of angry Japanese—he doesn't know the language, but the gist of it is clear. "But, uh… one thing. I hope you don't have a grudge against the… whatcha call em. Specials? Evos? Whatever." he asks, his eyes taking on a bit of a harder edge as he leans forward. "Because we're still not alone on this boat, and my partner has a real thing about that kind of bullshit. You aren't the kinda guy who judges someone based on somethin' like that, are ya?"

Max just giggles nervously in reply to Silas's own laughter — after all, he was the man with the knife. Regardless of if he believes Silas was a Vietnam vet, he's nodding along eager-like. Instead of sitting, he comes to his knees instead, an action that earns a silent laugh from Asi. It certainly improves her mood that he's so submissive. They're not out of danger yet, though.

"You're the boss! Just don't kill me. You can't kill me, right, man?" He's mostly calm, at least until a second invisible person is mentioned. Then he's looking behind him, his hands definitely no longer being held up anymore. Now he's just a glassy-eyed mess wondering if his throat's going to be slit from behind now. He lets out a startled yelp when the boat shifts into gear without anyone appearing to be there, his hands coming up around his ears to protect his neck. Because clearly he's going to be killed now.

Asi has other plans for now, or at least she did, until she remembers something rather important. "The anchor," she curses, looking to the side of the boat it's dropped off of.

"Man, I swear, I don't have beef with nothin', just don't kill me, man. It's just some fuckin' booze, I'n wanna die over that," Max moans, still holding his head.

"Good! I'd really like to make it through this vacation without a death toll, you know? I mean, honestly? I don't give a shit about your moonshine racket or whatever, either; I was just out here tryin' to fish, and if whatshername hadn't been hoppin' up and down tryin' to get Shades to shoot me, I'd have just sailed off with my fish and enjoyed my vacation elsewhere," Silas grumbles. "Plus you were nice to the cat, so you can't be all bad." The cat mews briefly in what Silas can only assume is agreement.

"So!" Silas exclaims, deliberately putting his knife away; he's pretty sure that the threat of the Phantom Menace will be enough to keep him in line. For now, anyway. Soon he's gonna have to drop that glamour; he's starting to see faint distortions in his vision, which means he's gonna need to rest soon. "Basically we're gonna go on a little cruise, drop ya off on the next island we find. Shouldn't be too hard for your buddies to find ya, especially if you're tryin' to flag 'em down."

Max's attention is back on Silas again; good. "So! I'm gonna grab the anchor. Aces, if you'd keep an eye on our guest for a moment?" Silas asks, letting his gaze shift over Max's shoulder as he drops the veil concealing her. Silas remains still for a moment longer, waiting to make sure he isn't going to do anything dumb.

Asi nods gratefully as Silas moves to haul anchor, her eyes returning to the speedboat on the distant shoreline. Max lets out another startled yelp at seeing her, which leads to her drawing her sword in one swift motion, turning back around with the edge close to his face. She's not amused. "Snickers may not want you dead, the cat may not want you dead, but scream again and you'll lose your head so fast you'll hit the water before you realize what's happened." His hands have flown back up in the air in an 'oh shit' reaction, his eyes wide.

He nods in a stammer, his widened eyes remaining wide. Then they start wandering. Frowning, Asi twists her wrist to tilt the blade to a new, flashier angle that catches the sun and slides half a step closer to him. "Y-yeah, we're cool, man." Max relents, either willingly or unwillingly.

"Good!" Silas calls amiably. He smiles to himself as he moves to haul the anchor up. He has to hand it to her—it seems she's a lot better with nervous, jittery types than he is.

He hauls the anchor up, moving as quickly as he can; luckily, the water's not terribly deep here, and it doesn't take long for him to get the anchor raised and stowed. He looks over to Asi for a moment, considers. "I'll drive. You just… stay cool," he says to Max, moving towards the front of the boat and the control panel. He raises the engine speed slowly, making sure neither Asi nor their hostage go slipping and sliding.

"You drive?" Asi echoes with a lot less certainty in her voice than she had previously. She doesn't move to argue otherwise, stepping aside to let Silas have better access. "退いて, Winky." she bids the cat. "中に入れ." Eve's one-eyed cat might not hop to its den inside the storage space, but it at least isn't somewhere it could easily fly off the back of the boat.

Max's hands are getting tired from being held up, but he tries to keep them that way. While they putter along down the sound, Asi glances to the speedboat that grows smaller with the distance, then back down to their would-be hostage, should things go awry. "Where are you from, anyway?"

"Huh?" he asks at first, confused. "Where am I from? Where are you from? What are you, not from arou—" is as far as he gets before her glare answers the question ere it can even be asked. "Oh. Uh, Norfolk. We're from Norfolk."

Asi's head tilts, perplexed. "Norfolk? What the hell are you doing this far north for something as stupid as this?"

"Whoa, whoa, lady—" Max's voice carries a touch of offense now. "And just where are you from?"

"Manhattan," she informs the drunk flatly, sword-arm still held aloft.

"The Pelago?" He's heard of it, of course, even though he sounds more perplexed than before. "The hell were you doing this far south?"

"Vacation!" Silas calls back merrily. "We had a big score, crew was taking some downtime; Aces wanted some time off anyway, and I figured I'd probably better get away before I started straightening my stereo wires or something," he says. "Like I told you. I was fishing."

He continues to edge up the speed; he wants to be over the horizon before Bitchtits and Company start looking. From what Max has said, they're more likely to search south than north, which means if they clear line of sight they're probably safe.

"So, I'm guessing the moonshine business is a lot more cutthroat down in Norfolk?" he calls back, still keeping his eyes on the waters ahead.

"Them? They're all so paranoid they put it way out here. Or they killed someone for it for all I know. Ain't told me, I ain't asked, and don't really care neither." Max quips, his quivering arms sinking lower and lower. He's frazzled again, probably wishing he'd bothered to pick up his drink again at some point. When the boat picked up speed, the jerk knocked the bottle over and now it's rolling, contents spilled on the deck.

Asi just lets out a noisy sigh. From how quickly they'd jumped to nearly killing someone over it, it doesn't feel like a stretch to imagine they'd kill someone for it.

Sensing he'll have an easier time talking to Silas rather than the sword lady, Max leans to one side to talk up to him 'easier'. "Everybody and their mother has had their own brand of firewater at one point or another, they just swear by this stuff. It's secret out there, out on the dry and everything."

Noticing a trend, Asi tilts her head carefully. "You keep saying 'they'," she points out. "Like you don't have any love for them." When Max doesn't have an immediate response, huffing as he tries to sort through his sentiments of loyalty and friendship for them, Asi finally looks away from him and back to the current navigator of the pontoon.

"Great, now we've picked up another stray," she laments laconicly, anticipating that Silas's heart is going to do something foolish like grow even bigger. She doesn't outright tell him to banish any samaritanly thoughts, though.

Silas remains silent for a long moment. "You probably should've asked, kid," he says, his voice low and slow and completely serious. "And you should definitely care. Someone kills once for something like that… it gets a lot easier to kill again for it."

He is silent for a moment longer.

"You know 'em better than I do. Tell me. How long you think it's gonna be after this before Bitchtits starts gettin' paranoid thoughts about 'what if he blabbed'? How long you think it'll be before Shades listens to her and decides to have a little chat with you—the kinda chat that ends with a bullet and a shallow grave? Because I've played with some shady types back in the day… and that lot you're pallin' around with strike me as the sort who believe in eating their wounded."

He lets that sit for a moment, then shrugs. "Food for thought."

Asi's sword arm lowers before she even turns back to Max, a frown forming. He really was going to go full mentor on the young man. Closing her eyes, she starts to shake her head —

And then topples backward in the middle of the pontoon deck, katana clattering out of her hand as she lands on her back. Opening her eyes again, as confused as she is angry about it, she sees that Max took her downed guard as an opportunity to regain control of the situation. "You're kidding me," she opines while he leans past her, trying to scramble for her sword. "くそやろう!" Asi growls up at him, fist immediately forming to punch him in the side of his gut. He's certainly sprawled out enough it leaves him open.

"Snickers, don't you dare take your eyes off where we're going!" she warns him vigorously. This was not the time for FOMO. She lets out a snarl while she grapples with the younger man, who panics in trying to pin her down more fiercely than before.

"Oh god, oh god!" he screeches, failing to do much fighting back. Meanwhile, Asi is all elbows and knees, getting a punch in across his face before she reverses the pin on him, glaring fiercely at him. She doesn't bother pinning him securely, just shoves him shoulder first down into the ground while straddling him.

"The hell is the matter with you!" she shouts, angry on Silas's behalf at this point.

"I don't know what your deal is, if you're cannibals or what, but who the hell goes on a vacation anymore?! The hell's wrong with you people!?"

Apparently, that had been the terrifying tipping point for him.

Silas hears Asi hit the deck, hears what is undeniably invective. "Motherfucker," he swears exasperatedly, unknowingly mirroring Asi's own sentiments. He does glance back for a moment, but at Asi's warning turns back to the helm. "Fine, fine!" he grumbles.

He hears Max's rant, though, and he lets out an exasperated growl. "Maybe more people would go on vacations if they didn't have to worry about getting interrupted by packs of borderline murderous assholes! But hey, at least I don't pick fights with lethal swordswomen during high-speed boat runs!" Silas retorts.

He keeps his gaze on the waters ahead, despite wanting to turn around and give this dumbass a swift kick in the ribs. "Now, how about you behave yourself, because I'm pretty sure Aces is both more sober and a hell of a lot better at fighting than you are… and if you get past her you've still gotta deal with me. And I will be fucking furious," he says, putting every last bit of threat he can muster into those last two words, all without turning away from the helm. For good measure, he drops a glamour over Aces' katana, obfuscating Max's ability to process it properly; hopefully it'll make it harder for him to get ahold of it.

For her part, Asi's ability to remain serious is nil. In the face of what had broken the younger man, and literally in his face, she starts to laugh. Only one hand down on Max's chest, the other holds her stomach and she squints while trying to fight off another wave of snickers at him.

"The sorts of people who remember take breaks from this world are the ones who are fearless enough to not care, or those strong enough to handle themselves when things go wrong." is Asi's own bit of advice, offered almost for nothing as she looks down at him. The back of her hand comes up, covering her nose as she lets out a humor-filled sigh. The poor man underneath her is still terrified, one hand fishing blindly above his head for the katana hilt. He's close. "You've made the unfortunate mistake of crossing people who are both at once."

"Tell me, have you heard of Mad Eve and her crew?" Asi asks with a wicked smile, her eyes gleaming down at Max. It's only for a moment. His gust of bravado done with, his fingers not having found the sword, he draws his hands back down in front of him, palms up in a pleading gesture.

He begs, "L-listen, I'm sorry, please don't—"

"Kill you?" Asi barks back down at him, like it were a challenge. Her brow is furrowing again with the same severeness as before, and her hand falls from her face, curling into a fist that connects with his instead. "You dumb, drunk, idiot." For good measure, she spits down over him to avoid giving into the inclination to do something more violent. Max is trying to cover his soon-to-be-bruised face, not fighting back again.

For now, is what they've learned about that. She really feels they ought to kill him, or at least throw him overboard, but she recognizes her character faults when they come up.

Besides, that would be a terrible high note for their vacation, killing someone. Even if they deserved it.

"Tell my associate you're sorry for nearly making him wreck."

Befuddled, but not interested in being hurt again, he stammers out, "I-I'm sorry, man. Snickers? I'm sorry."

Asi tries to stop from chortling again, but hearing her nickname for Silas slip someone else's lips is amusing.

Hearing that nickname coming from someone else draws a single snicker from Silas despite himself. He lets out a deep breath. "Alright then. Let's see if we can make it to the next island without anyone trying to stab anyone else, then. Then we can go our separate ways. You can wait for your asshole friends to pick you up, and we can go try to find another island or something before we have to head back to the Pelago."

There is a moment of silence. "And then I'ma fix that fish, and maybe we can have a nice dinner," he grumbles. He hopes it comes out well. Dragging your catch along at high speed is probably not good for it, but if fixed quickly it should still be decent.

Poor Max is just confused at this point, his head going back hitting the deck as he looks up at the canopy and the sky as it breezes past. He's probably hoping to hear the telltale signs of that speedboat closing in on them, but he doesn't.

Might even be wondering just how long he'll be stranded wherever they dump him, and if he'll even make it back where he calls home.

Asi doesn't bother being gentle, hands down on his shoulders to brace herself as she starts to stand back up. "Try and get the jump on me again and I'll kick you in the head," she warns him, clambering over him to go pick up and stow her sword. Walking past Silas, he can see the patch of freshly irritated skin on her back, marks left from the deck's coarse bristles during the tussle on the ground. She lets out a sigh as she bends down to grab the hilt. "Too bad he had to be an asshole and can't stay for dinner, isn't it."

"Nah, not really," Silas chuckles, glancing at Asi out of the corner of his eyes as she passes. "There's really only enough for two anyway," he says, giving her a small grin. His gaze flickers to her again, though, as he notices the angry red patch on her back; it takes him a minute's thought to place it, though. Rugburn. Ugh. There's probably some aloe or something in the first aid kit; he makes a note of it for later.

On the bright side, though, a glance backwards confirms that the island is falling away nicely; a little further and they'll be clear.

Asi glances back at him with a smirk of her own as she swings the sheath off her body and stows the sword in it. She looks forward to the horizon ahead rather than back, pushing stray wisps of hair back from her face. Hearing Max stir on the ground, she turns slightly, brow arched in a silent dare for him to get up. He hesitated, then drops his head back down with a frustrated groan.

"Fucking crazy-ass Evos," passes his lips, because it's the only derogatory thing he can think of saying. Asi looks to Silas for his judgement on the phrase, seeming to find it more amusing than anything.

"I don't know, Snickers. I think we're the right kind of crazy." she says with some mirth, checking behind them again and seeing nothing but water.

Silas snickers in agreement. "You said it, Aces. You said it."

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