RP:Serenity Now!

Part of the Two If By Sea Arc

Summary: Sargaso, Hudson, and Ansel meet up on the Cenril docks to execute their plan of stealing a boat and recovering treasure from a sunken ship. Unfortunately, their state of inebriation and the general half-baked nature of their plan means that they overlooked that said sunken ship, the Selene's Fortune, has already been recovered. Sargaso can't believe the incompetence of his accomplices, who have informally formed an Emilia Fanclub amongst them. After a tense moment, the men opt to change course, heading for Rynvale, where they locate the Fortune. The men choke down banana-flavored selkie lard to stave off drowning and split up in search of treasure.

Characters: Sargaso, Hudson, Ansel

The Cenril Docks

Hudson, for his part, splits from the other men to go to the witch doctor to procure their selkie lard, which for their pleasure was available in banana flavor. The witch doctor is an aggressive salesman and tries to sell Huds a number of other products for which he has no immediate use, including the mysterious but bestselling product known as "essence of centaur." He then stops by his mum's house to page through his tomes on alchemy. There's nothing immediately helpful, and he's not about to master the alchemical name for 'selkie lard' in an hour. So he drunkenly eats all of his mother's leftovers and sets off, parcels in hand, to meet the gents at the dock.

The lack of faith in Sargaso's brilliant plan disturbs him. It's like pulling teeth to get these men to understand the gravity of the mission on which they embark. For Lorca! For all sailors! But then again, this is Sargaso's livelihood and community, has been for years. When Ansel and Sargaso reach the scavengers, two of the men are there, half-glazed on moonshine. Sargaso hands them a note which grants him permission to borrow the submersible by order of the owner, aka these mens' boss. Yes, Sargaso forged the entire document, including the owner's signature, but he's a crafty fellow and he thought to make the paper look official by having it notarized. The notary stamp is also forged, and the notary public is Selene, Goddess of the Sea. Who in their right mind would question the notary seal of a God? Just about everyone would, but these drunk men aren't in their right minds. They hesitate, but Sargaso is able to bully them with hypothetical threats from their boss and Selene alike, and they eventually cave in. Phew. Easy. The diving bell is heavy and the men have to carry it between them, walking sideways up the plank to the meeting spot. Hudson shows up a few minutes later eating the last of evidently-homemade cupcakes. Sargaso narrows his eyes at the cupcake, then Hudson's face. Silver-spooned son of a bitch. Middle of a heist, this guy over here runs off to get mommy's food. "Did you get the stuff?"

To say that Hudson has grown up with a silver spoon would be to judge him accurately and fairly. Life is pretty great when your mum makes it big selling centaur erotic fiction. "Yeah," says Hudson as he drops the peeled off wrapper into a nearby trash bin. He nods once to a nearby dockworker, evidently not thinking about discreet at this juncture. "Yep," he says, dangling a brown paper bag in front of his co-conspirators. "Banana flavor is all they had, by the way," he says, his gaze sliding to the submersible. Unbeknownst to Hudson, who had been not a little drunk at the time of purchase, the witch doctor had included a vial of essence of centaur (which turns out is basically like a crude Viagra), labeled in sloping script. Perhaps it had been a freebie, perhaps it had been an inadvertent purchase, but in any event, it's there, lurking at the bottom of the bag, beside a wax papered parcel of banana flavored selkie lard. This would become apparent to the first person to go through the bag's contents. Hudson fishes part of his potato sack mask out of his pocket. "We doing this?" he inquires of both the men.

Ansel follows Sargaso to the two men drunk on moonshine. Ansel would watch the man pull out the document and hand this forward to the two men, nodding every so often as Sargaso speaks to them. As Sargaso speaks of Selene, the wolf squints a little, but he plays this off as he looks over at the sea as if he was looking at something far off before returning to nod his head like a little assistant idiot. Ansel would then follow Sargaso’s order with the diving bell, moving up to the meeting dock. Then, there was Hudson, with a cupcake. He stopped to get a cupcake? What if Ansel wanted a cupcake? Were they not on a mission? Hudson must have gotten the bunchies, only with… beer instead. Well, at least Hudson got the stuff that was needed. Ansel would then move the potato sack from his waist, shifting his head to Hudson as he asks his finally question. “Sure we are, no going back now…” he was trailing a little before looking at Sargaso. “Right?” Coming this far would be a waste of time for him.

Sargaso nods along with Ansel's response until the wolf asks 'right?' He blinks slowly. "Yea." He looks left and right, front and back, and determing the coast is clear, dons his potato sack mask. Hot. Smells like dirt. Hopefully his two stooge buddies know the basics of sailing, but hope is usually employed in unlikely situations. Sargaso does his best to take on the tough work of moving a sailing vessel out of dock quickly, commanding Hudson to hold this, Ansel to push that, tie that other thing, raise the headstay, no the other headstay, have you never heard of a headstay? Amateurs. The irritation escalates and attracts the attention of others. Down the pier, footsteps approach, and Sargaso hisses, "get low." He flattens on the deck, hoping not to get caught, but a ship mid-push-off is an obvious sight to sailors. To Hudson he hisses, "Don't get up, but unhook the--" he stops himself from using technical terms, "the rope thingy that connects the boat to the dock." Then to Ansel, he nods for the pair of them to crawl forward to push off the dock with their hands, slowly guiding the boat away, hopefully without getting caught.

Hudson stuffs the remainder of his cupcake into his mouth. First things first. Still chewing, he gives his potato sack an experimental sniff before ducking out of sight and pulling it over his head. He is, of course, still rather tall and built like a kickball player. And wearing the clothes he had on previously. But, you know, his face is disguised. Some of the spokes of his rich kid hairstyle poke out of the slits, but that's neither here nor there. He's in it to win it, or so he drunkenly thinks as he goes about assisting Sargaso in a mostly haphazard fashion. He's been on boats before. Perhaps twice. What he lacks in sailing skills he makes up for in humility when Sargaso tells him to GET DOWN (Arnold Schwarzenegger voice). Here Huds' height and reach comes in handy, as he manages to stretch out to unhook the "rope thingy", ostensibly without attracting much notice. His chin bobs to the other men as they go about chasing the boat off the dock. Unfortunately they aren't in reality as stealthy as they think they are. An "Oi! You there!" is out like a shotgun blast, and chaos descends briefly onto the men as they hastily pull out, Hudson just barely vaulting aboard. The élan from this caper means that his body rolls and hits a mast. Not that he's feeling it much - he's not a few beers deep. Things would surely take a turn for the worse, though, with them being noticed, but for a sudden fortuitous event: their pursuer trips over an incoming wheel barrow, his head striking the edge of the dock before he goes over. Sorry, guy. Hope you aren't drowned. But these boys are going, going, anddddd they're outta there!

The Sea Between Cenril and Rynvale

Ansel opens the potato sack mask and places it on his head, adjusting the breathing and the eyes, though dirt was falling a bit in his sight. “Agh…” Irritation, he then shook his head and climbed aboard the ship with the two men and listens to all of bossy Sargaso’s commands. Not that he minded, he did things idly. Just force Ansel to do it, and he’ll do it. Then again, the question was really: what was he doing and how does he do it? There was a headstay and a backstay, that’s all Ansel knew. It took a few tries, but hey, he was a patient man, not like Sargaso was not. Also, they really did not have the time. This was a joke – they were not smooth at all, which made this adventure hilarious in the narrator’s eyes. As all the attention would focus on the amateur sailors, Ansel would duck down immediately as Sargaso says. All the adrenaline and the couple booze made Ansel want to cackle over in the corner like a hyena, but he kept his control. He would watch as the curious man shouts across the way, and Ansel would hold his giggly (like a schoolgirl) breath. All the fun was sucked out for the brief minute. The man would then crawl forward on his stomach before leaning over the side of the ship to reach the dock, giving a nice firm push off the side of the dock as quickly as he could. Ansel could not afford to get caught, not with his nice steady life up in Frostmaw. They are finally sailing. Actually sailing! They did it! Hurray!

Sargaso winces as Hudson collides with the mast. He walks over on his knees like a soldier in a fox trench avoiding bullets from the enemy line, or in this case, beer bottles thrown from the docks. The evasive maneuver proves unnecessary, for their pursuers are also drunk and can't even land a bottle in the slow-moving, large boat. Whooooosh! A beer bottle soars over Sargaso's head, if Sargaso's head were five feet to his left and in the water. Plop! in the water. "You okay, bud?" He pats Hudson's shoulder reassuringly then stands up to adjust the necessary sails and ropes. #1 healer. But at least he is no longer irritated, a first for the hour. The three stooges pulled off the heist, Sargaso can breathe easy...ish. Damn potato sack mask. He waits until they are beyond the sights of watchmen's telescopes, then pulls off his mask. From here it should be smooth sailing. No one will chase them. Coast guard is no longer funded ever since the church collapsed. Lawless seas. He lights a lantern and opens up the map, pointing out where The Selene's Fortune is known to have sunk a very long time ago. "Oh I forgot to mention at home that the ship we're going to is definitely haunted. Not a rumor. Haunted. Just a heads up." The cloudless sky reassures Sargaso that they'll be able to navigate in a straight line, and see the horrors of hell in plain starlight before they attack.

Hudson's head is spinning, and he reels under assault from cartoonish tweeting birds, the only creatures capable of expressing the blowback from a blunt hit. But, he is mostly fine. "Yeah, I'm good," he says to Sargaso, wondering if he's going to throw up overboard. Perhaps not immediately. He truth be told is reduced to uselessness in this moment, sagging against the mast while the other men go about fussing with the sail and the rigging. The sea air helps. It does. Hudson starts to feel more conscious of his surroundings. He's on a boat and. It's going fast and. He's got a nautical-themed pashmina afghan (no). Eventually he staggers to his feet and makes his way to Sargaso, huddled over a map. Hudson's index finger draws a circle in the general area that's been indicated. "Crazy sea monsters here," he explains. "Last time I came with Emilia. Octopus people creatures."

Ansel was all giddy until bottles were being thrown. They were missing the men, but he was still offended. Then again, they were stealing a boat. He would sink back down again, making sure he would not get clunked with a bottle. At least the man was a healer, and eyes went to Hudson as he was a ‘Loopy Lou’ as he leaned against the mast. He did not look so good. Though, he knew the man would manage and he would begin fiddling with sailing stuff before moving over to the map and listening to the crew’s warning. “I’ve been through a haunting before,” he would slowly take off his mask. “Odd sort of ghosts, they had this thing about… iron. They could not… touch us through it. Then again, could be a different type of entity,” he shrugged, they could take chances. He then listened to Hudson about octopus people. How bad could it all really be? There were three of them. Sargaso was witty, Hudson was athletic, and Ansel was a healer in practice, he thought they can manage.

WOW, ANSEL. Sargaso is plenty athletic! Sure he may have wiry muscles that will never hyper trophy thanks to a childhood that saw more famines than chicken dinners, and next to Hudson, who was probably weaned on gorilla baby formula, Sargaso looks like a scrawny turkey after it's been plucked, but wow. W.O.W. Thankfully, Sargaso himself is blithely unaware of all these considerations, includings Ansel's thoughts on the strengths of the respective men, and so he nods agreeably to Ansel. "That's an old wive's tale. Glad to hear it worked." Then Hudson reveals that he's been out this way before and Sargaso eyes him keenly. "Why did your boat go out here? Most captains avoid this area. Sailor superstition that there be monsters." Things Sargaso knows but doesn't disclose until they're straight floatin' on a boat on the deep blue sea, busting five knots, wind whipping out my coat, you can't stop them motherlicker cause they're on a boat.

Hudson belatedly realizes that he's still wearing his potato sack mask. Probably because he's the athletic slacker friend, not the witty one! He shucks off the mask with all due haste. He was not, for the record, weaned on gorilla baby formula, but folks in sordid gossip circles have speculated that his father is a centaur. (Doesn't make sense... does it? Does it? Squint?) In any event, Sargaso's question causes Hudson to lift his eyebrows. He gazes ahead of them, watching a dolphin do some flips and shiz. The dolphin's splashing, getting everybody all wet. (Not really.) "Crisien wanted to get some boat out here, and despite the sea critter attacks, Emilia managed to freeze it and get it to float ---" the thought halts right there, and he opens and closes his mouth. His hands dig into his pockets. "This isn't the SAME boat, is it? No, right?"

Ansel just assumes things, okay?! Okay, they’re all equally gorgeous, fit, witty men, who are just barely prepared to conquer whatever they damn well plz. And here is Ansel just trying to be a bleeping people pleaser. He’s just a suck up. Anyway, they continue being on a boat, the boat rockin’ and rollin’, it was out of controllin’ – maybe. Though, it continues on, and hopefully makes some progress, and, besides that, Sargaso might be talking about the haunted, octopus people infested boat, now that was a problem. Especially if Sargaso is saying that iron is an ‘old wive’s tale’. You wonder why Ansel thinks Sargaso’s the witty one? “So… what’s the ‘real’ plan? Are you going down into that boat?”

Sargaso takes a deep breath, wipes a hand over his face, and resets his entire attitude. Oh Selene, give me strength not to accidentally throw a bitch overboard. He's asking for literal strength here, not figurative, since the accident would involve someone who is suspiciously quick to deny gorilla baby formula. "Alright. So, the real plan is done. New plan. Huds." He waves a hand over the sea map for Hudson to point out where he and his harem of Babes resurrected a ghost ship, apparently. "Where's it now?" He looks over Hudson's silverback to Ansel and asks, "Did you know Crisien did this?" Then to both men, "Who's Emilia?"

Hudson has the feeling he's stepped in it, and that the boat he and certain denizens of Babeland (TM) raised is the same boat they were setting out for. "Serenity now," he exhales, not making eye contact with anyone. He looks at a discarded potato sack, flapping around on the deck. At Sargaso's question, Hudson scratches at the back of his head. His gaze swings between the two other men. "Well I don't know where they towed it, I forgot to ask. I was thrown overboard, so I didn't see, washed ashore totally disoriented." Put another way, he is useless. His eyes widen as his gaze flicks between both Ansel and Sargaso once more. "Emilia...? Aren't you guys all part of the same group with the compass...? Emilia's, you know," he holds up his hand to indicate her height, "very pale, curly blondish hair? Pretty, super flirty, married with three kids?" Doesn't seem to be ringing a bell. ".....She gets emotional and literally turns things to ice, so she has to wear gloves?"

Ansel is listening to two of the men as they go back and forth. Ansel is on some sort of auto-pilot for the meantime. The ghost ship was towed now? He was just confused, might as well keep the trap up until there was something he was sure about, which was Emilia. As Sargaso questions both of the men, he lets Hudson explain in his own words, nodding along with him almost like a puppet. He then chimes in, “Freckles, caring, then again, emotional,” he agrees with Hudson, then blinks once or twice, “She leaves a lot of ice trails or water... Or use to… I have not seen her in a while,” because Ansel use to have the biggest crush on her but found out that she was married the hard way because her husband came up and menaced him, and Ansel stayed away.

Sargaso's face remains blank. "Never heard of her," he says. His web of relationships is rather stunted. If they don't live in the fishing district of Cenril, they may as well not exist. "Never heard of a shipwreck called Serenity Now either." Her works his jaw with one hand and repeats the name to recall the ship, "Serenity Now, Serenity Now..." He scans the map for clues and comes up short. "Say, Huds, you sure you ain't thinking The Selene's Fortune?" His finger traces a line from the Selence's fortune to Cenril, then Selene's Fortune to Rynvale. If he were towing it, Rynvale is closer and a safer harbor. All sorts of hooligans loot ships in Cenril. The lawlessness of the docks really gets Sargaso's goat sometimes. To think people disrespect other people's property like that. He takes the wheel but it takes him a second to figure out the particular ticks on this ship, seeing as how it's 'borrowed.' "If it was the Fortune was raised, we're going to Rynvale." His shoulders sag and he exhales long and low. This trip extends much longer than he anticipated. They could really use a magical compass now. He slides Ansel a sharp look behind his back. The weak wind frustrates their pace even further, and once they can see the Rynvalian coast they have to follow its coastline until they chance upon a ghostly ship in harbor. Cue hours upon hours of boring and slow night sailing. Even the cloudy black sky blots out the stars now, so that you can't even gaze upon them for entertainment. Which is alright, there's always babes and drink to talk about. Sargaso tells them of a crazy ex who tried to get him to pay alimony on her kid, but the kid was definitely not Sargaso's, that woman was as loose as a trawling net. They got a witch doctor to do a paternity test and when the doctor said "You are not the father" Sargaso started jumping on furniture in his excitement. He had shown up to the event drunk, as he trusts his pals can imagine. And there's The Selene's Fortune! Sargaso manuevers them closer. The wind around the ship has a permanent howl. The boards creak under the rhythmic tapping of footsteps, but no life can be peeped within the rotting frigate. The waters are calm. Its cabin and below deck are still flooded, so they have use for the Selkie lard yet. The submersible collects dust behind the captain's chair. Sargaso reaches into Hudson's paper bag and pulls out the essence of centaur, opens it, sniffs it, and shouts "What the ffff is this?!" His face curdles like sour milk.

Hudson throws an eyebrow raised glance Ansel's way as the other man fills in Hudson's appraisal of Emilia. It's a look that says, Salutations, fellow member of the Emilia Fanclub! Nothing wrong with looking... Hudson half-expects Sargaso to chime in and say that he now knows who Emilia is, but he doesn't. He continues to be baffled, and more hilariously, begins to mutter Serenity Now. "Erm, 'serenity now' is just a thing that I say instead of cursing. Not the name of a ship," offers Huds unhelpfully, his gaze following the movement of Sargaso's finger to Rynvale. Suits him. He loves Rynvale. He has friends who live there, and the local bar is magnificently divey. Hudson: not exactly focused on the plan. But, mostly committed to its carrying out. He is good at taking direction, and goes about on deck doing as he's told by Sargaso. Seems like something he's used to doing. "I hope you moonwalked right then and there," says Huds of the witchdoctor paternity revelation. Huds, who is usually pretty thoughtful when it comes to women, except when a celebration of non-babydaddyhood is in order. In preparation for their journey aboard the Selene's Fortune, Huds brandishes the revolting banana-flavored selkie lard he's purchased, and finds that his inadvertent purchase of essence of centaur gets top billing instead. He turns his head to the side to read the label, and then, drawing air through his teeth, brings one shoulder up in a shrug. "Yeah, mates, I mean that looks like essence of centaur to me," he informs the other man with some authority. As if he hadn't been the one who had gone to the witchdoctor. "Free sample I guess." He gives them a wide-eyed look that hopes to convey plausible deniability. "Not that it's needed. You know, whatever is clever. So. ... Banana flavored selkie lard, anyone? I'm told we have thirty minutes on the stuff. By the way, I was unable to extend that."

Ansel shrugs as Emilia does not ring a bell for Sargaso. Then, he listens to the two men, lingering on the side of the ship. He was staring at the two idly. Though, as Rynvale is mentioned, Ansel pops back up and walks right back over. “Rynvale?” His voice seemed rather… impatient, and Ansel was a patient man. Though, he let this go. He was just worried since well, he had the clinic he had left behind for the evening for this trip. Perhaps treasure was not what he valued anymore – gasp! Anyway, as Sargaso shot Ansel a sharp look, Ansel narrowed his brows at this. What did he do? Time drags on, which Ansel’s patient slowly comes back in gear. Then again, he would enjoy the sea, and he was staring over the ship as Sargaso speaks about his wacked out ex-girlfriend. Listening to Sargaso talk about how he escaped having a child, yet he understood – he was Ansel, children could be a handful, yet Ansel was fond of the two he pursued. Then again, they were learning things on their own were usually fine on their own, but Jenson was there just in case anything happened. Ansel was not the best fatherly figure, but he sure did try. He was young when he had children, but things happen. Also, Ansel imagined, whenever he was in horrible situations and there was a bar nearby, well… Ansel never refused a drink. As the cabin comes into view, there is a sigh of relief. A slow night. He then looks towards the bag of Selkie lard. “So, is there enough for all of us, or just one?” He preferred just one… So, Ansel was scared, so what? I mean, he would be jumping into a harbor – deep. He did not even have to step over when Sargaso opened the essence of centaur. His nose crinkles, and he tries to hold his breath while talking. “What the hell do you even use that for?”

"It's for impotence," Sargaso says not without cheek. He can't wipe the smirk off his face, and blinks at Hudson with faux, mocking lethargy -- just letting this revelation sink in, buddy, reeeeaal slow like. The blink gives way to a slow shake of the head. Then he lets up, grinning and slapping Hudson on the back, a non-verbal, 'Alright, it's a sample.' To Ansel, he grins and says, "Yea yea, there's enough to go around. Don't worry. You'll get yours. Let me do a sweep for mermaids." Can never be too careful. He pulls a wooden lid off a chest and an oar off the underside of the deck's banister and lowers himself into the water with both. He stands on the flipped-over lid and stand-up paddles around the boat. Never forget, kayaker. This isn't kayaking, but it'll do for now. Hudson and Ansel are left alone for an about 25 minutes to discuss Hudson's difficulty getting it up sometimes, before Sargaso returns. "Looks clear. Let's go." He unties a small row boat from the side of the ship so the trio may get closer to the ship faster. Even strong swimmers are slow. He loads the ship with the selkie lard and diving lanterns, goggles, and flippers. Free diving time! At the ship, Sargaso wastes no time suiting up. "I'll take the lower level," he offers in large part because he doesn't trust their swimming skills and in part because that's where the best treasure is likely to be.

Hudson shoots Ansel a rather bug-eyed look to accompany a cocked brow. He better displays what he is holding, which is to say quite a bit of banana-flavored selkie lard. The prospect of one person eating the entire lot of it is... incredible. "Mate, can you imagine? This is definitely enough for three," he says, one hand fanning the air to coax some of the nasty banana scent around. It commingles with the essence of centaur and creates a new and improved foul odor. Hudson feels not a little warm under the collar at the excavation of the essence of centaur, but he rolls with the situation and takes the slap on the back with an easy nonchalance. "You know, some men use it recreationally," Hudson comments. "Not that I would know." And with that, he snatches the essence of centaur and puts the cork back in, before the wafting smell attracts something unpleasant. Hudson himself would have volunteered to do the sweep for mermaids - he believes himself uniquely qualified - but Sargaso has just rushed off, all, I VOLUNTEER, so. Huds and Ansel remain on deck. Huds briefly (briefly) declaims any need for essence of centaur. He then develops the half-baked idea of trying to make alcohol out of sea water. Unclear why he's never attempted this before, but he fishes some out and performs the alchemical process, resulting in something dark and smelling very strongly of cinnamon and alcohol. He then merrily suggests that he and Ansel do a shot of whatever he's created. Lo and behold it's the Hollow version of fireball whiskey. It makes Huds double over and pant over the side of the boat, wishing they had actual water. The only options are more fireball whiskey and sea water. Hudson crosses himself in the shape of a fish, as if that might help. LOOK, IT MIGHT. Thank the gods Sargaso has returned, because Huds has just started to contemplate having a second shot of his new creation. Come to think of it, he still wants to do one anyway. Having suited up, he brings the bottle to Sargaso with no introduction and shoots Ansel a silencing look. Hazing rituals. "I just made this. It'll make the selkie lard more appealing," he lies. He explains the course of action. Shot, then chase with one's serving of banana-flavored selkie lard. Best idea or worst idea? Unclear. But after that, all that's left is to drunkenly swim around in search of treasure.

Ansel begins to widen his gaze. “What the…” He almost coughs into a gag. “That is disgusting,” but he would shake his head with an off smile. Let it goooo, Ansel. Then the smile falls as Sargaso mentions that there is enough for everyone. He then looks at Hudson, no he could not imagine, thank you very much. He would then let out an awkward chuckle. “Right, right…” He would trail. So, Ansel was nervous, cut him some slack, he was not about this sea life. As Sargaso leaves, he lets Hudson fool around with the sea water, smirking from time to time in awe of his creation. As Huds insists to try the creation, Ansel grins in agreement. Ansel then slowly moves his head with counting to take the shot with Hudson, and as the fireball went down his throat. He tightens his eyes shut and heaves while placing his hands on his knees before pounding his chest a little to get the drink down. He then shakes his head multiple times to Hudson, disagreeing with the fact of chugging down the harsh creation. Though, he would zip his lips shut as Sargaso moves within the boat again, not saying a word to the man about the drink. The hazy man would then move to prepare himself to swim – when he was not really a swimmer. This should be interesting. At least Sargaso would take the lowest level in the sea, this way Ansel could make it back to the top – selfish bastard.

It's a good thing for Hudson that Sargaso volunteered for mermaid recon, because by the time he returns he has completely forgotten that his merciless teasing over the essence of centaur has given Hudson plenty of motive for a little pay back. And thus, completely trusting of his roommate and friend, Sargaso takes the shot without question and immediately doubles over much like Ansel did, bracing himself against his knees and wincing his face beyond recognition. "You bastards," he growls good-naturedly. "What is this stuff?" He spits over board, ribs into his mates, then ushers everyone into the row boat. Time's a ticking. This 'borrowed' boat has an expiration date. Three drunk Cinderellas on a boat. At the ghost ship and after splitting it into three sections for each of them to explore, Sargaso wastes no time dosing himself with extra selkie lard. He winces a second time, but this time his features contort considerably less - a grim review of Hudson's concoction if ever there was one. He swings his legs over the boat. "Meet back in 30 minutes." Plop. He's gone.

Hudson cackles for ten days over Sargaso's reaction to the fireball whiskey he's created. "I don't know, but I'm kind of obsessed with it. So bad it's good," he says, waving the bottle under his nose and flinching reflexively. He leaves his creation on the deck for celebrating later. On the rowboat, it's now time to parcel out the selkie lard, and he does so with poorly veiled glee. Hudson makes a big show as he crams the stuff into his mouth. "MMmMmMmm this is SOOOOO deLICIOUS," he chokes on the banana flavor. His expression looks slightly pained, his skin flushed. His throat makes a strangled noise that suggests a suppressed gag. Not about to taste fake bananas for the next half hour or so, His body stretches over the lip of the tiny rowboat, and he grabs the fireball whiskey, which he drinks as a chaser before offering some to Sargaso and Ansel. He winces again. What a cocktail of garbage. Before he can grimace and double over and engage in an exaggerated show of self-loathing, Huds follows Sargaso's lead. "See you suckers in half an hour!" he shouts, taking the mature route of making a cannonball as he leaps into the water.

Ansel is howling with drunken laughter as Sargaso shoots the fireball concoction back. Then, he straightens up and moves to the row boat, hiking a leg over the edge to hop in. He prepares himself, a few deep breaths, Ansel. Water... Sargaso is gone now, and he cannot help the timid feeling as each man disappears at a time. Ansel scarfs some selkie lard down just as Hudson grabs some of his. He grunts a little before closing his eyes. You can do this… RIGHT?! As the two men are gone, he stares into the depth of the sea. “Sh*t…” he then shakes his head. Do not think about this too long, Ansel. He would then go to the edge of the row boat and take a leap of faith. Here goes nothing!