CHP 94: Bad Boys? (Patreon)

The higher chain of command completely disappearing and their fleets being scattered in strangely familiar seas was, while potentially dangerous, not as crippling as it could have been for the Spanish Armada that ruled the sea.

They'd seized one of the local islands, and their commander had 'convinced' the local denizens to relocate to the brig's cells so that they could use the place as a contemporary base of operations... The natural port provided by the shape of the island itself, outstretched like mother nature's arms cradling a safe haven, made it easy to defend.

They'd used the ships to form a blockade and were waiting for the messengers they had sent back to their homeland... Supplies wouldn't be a problem for quite some time, they'd been preparing for an invasion prior to the sudden 'change'.

But uhh... there was just a slight problem.

"Wha... What in the name of the King is that?!"

"I believe it's a half-naked man, sir."

"...I can see that you dolt. But, he's running on the water."

"Jesus has returned! We are saved!"

"I...I don't think Jesus would run at us half-naked with two pirate ships behind him."

"B-But he's white, sir."

The Commanding officer put a hand to his mouth, slowly turning to look at his men, "Jesus good man, you're right... What are we to do now?"

Murmurs and hushed whispers started going about the deck, most of the men being unable to understand what they'd heard.

"We should welcome him with open arms!" The man suggested brightly, leaning over the railings to get a closer look, "Shall I give the order, sir?"

The Commander hesitated, scratching his scraggy brown hair, "I don't quite know, good man. Can somebody bring me my spyglass?"

One of the deck hands rushed to him, holding out the piece of equipment that had been requested to the Commander who took it with a small nod.

He closed one eye and put it to the other, zooming in on the figure rushing at them, "Pale hair, half naked, and... what is that written on his chest?"

"I believe it's English, sir."

"..."

"Well then get me a translator."

"Oh wow, thank you. I've been on this ship six months now and you don't even bother to remember my face."

The Commander turned to stare at the out of line translator again, too astounded to even speak... Thing was, the man was staring back at him with the same level of astonishment.

"Did I say that outloud?"

The Commander nodded slowly, pursing his lips.

Shrugging, the 'translator' threw his hands up in the air, "Whatever, if that's Jesus, I don't have to respect a dickhead like you anymore."

"...I'm a dickhead?"

"Yuh bitch, you know what they call you? The Over-Compensator, your ego compensates for your lack of ladies and the disappointing size of your phallus."

The Commander's breath hitched and he put a hand over his heart, stammering "B...But I always take care of me-"

It seemed like they were about to have a real moment that would improve their bonds and bring them closer as a crew... Unfortunately, fate did not give a single FUCK about them.

To be fair though, Fate was a bitch that did not give a single fuck about anybody.

The 'stranger' had crossed the distance between them while they were talking and blew a gaping hole through the ship's hull by virtue of sheer momentum.

"I'm coming for you, Ace!"

"...I-I need to tell Miss Martha about this. N...Nicholas-senpai has a son."

"What the fuck? Santa was real all along?" The Commander turned to look at the speaker in astute shock, completely forgetting his earlier heartbreak, "I can not believe my dear mama and my papa would tell me he was not."

Suddenly, all the dots connected and the crew had a collective epiphany.

White hair, bright complexion, logic-defying abilities, a cheery disposition, he was half-naked but fur clothes were quite expensive, you couldn't expect Santa to use them in this shitty place.

But... the fact that he was attacking them meant that they were on the naughty list.

"Are we bad boys?"

"No, because enslaving the local population and taking over their homes is what any morally upright person would do." Gudako answered his question for him, sitting on the railings and dangling her legs off the edge.

"Intrude-"

The Commander put up his hand shushing the crewmate who was about to shout, "Tell me more, girl."

"Huh, well, I would but... even I have my limits. I can't respect your decisions." The red haired teenager offered blankly, pointing to the Golden ship that was about to ram into them, "You can ask her for more details, if you want."

Or more specifically, she pointed at the grinning pinkett standing at the head of the ship with a flintlock resting on her shoulder and her other hand at her hips even as cannons hurtled all around her courtesy of their comrades, "Come on, ya bastards! Let's teach 'em what trampling over the helpless gets 'em!"

The ship smashed into theirs, creating a gap in the blockade which was quickly taken advantage of by the larger, more sinister, vessel behind it... The thing had nearly six dozen cannons firing continuously, blowing through the ships that had opened fire like paper.

...Which somehow, had an even more deranged looking individual at it's head.

The guy had fire in his beard...

On another day, the commander would dutifully carry out the duties the crown assigned to him. He would hunt the curs down as pirates or rebels before they could even get close... but not this day, for his heart was shaken and he doubted his life's work.

So, he turned to the pink haired woman for answers, "Are we bad boys? Has Santa come to punish us?"

"...The fuck?" The woman tilted her head, creeped out by the question, "I'm not into that shit but uh... sure? I mean, slave trading ain't exactly the most upstanding thing you could be doing."

"Hmm... but I do not see what is wrong with it. It provides for our families and those useless wretches get to do something meaningful with their lives." He explained confusedly, gesturing below deck with both of his hands.

"...Well, I ain't got nothing to reply to that with." 

She didn't need to, as in the next instant, a shot from Anne Bonny blew through the man's head, splattering it like a watermelon.

"Woah... that's some hardcore shit." Francis Drake shrugged and waved her flintlock in the air, using some of the new words she'd learnt from the half-naked man that joined their crew, "Secure the captives before that chuuni reject turns 'em into minced meat."

-

"I've found you." Nicholas pointed at the Fleet Commander, his crimson cape ehem Anne's coat EHEM fluttering in the wind... He had attacked the stranded military with righteous fury behind his actions, and God and Anime on his side.

There was no taking him down.

"So you have." The older man in a blue navy coat replied neutrally, both hands behind his back as he studied Nicholas, "But you are butchering my beautiful language, I suggest that you stop before my compatriots understand your barbaric desecration."

He gestured to the men surrounding him with halberds and muskets pointed at Nicholas with his head.

Pursing his lips, Nicholas flipped him off, "Bitch you should be grateful I paid attention in Spanish class. Shit sounds like a spell chant sometimes."

"Hmm." The Admiral clicked his tongue, putting a hand to his jaw, "My fleet is 40 vessels strong, and the valiant men under me will fight to their last breath. Can you say the same for the rapscallions and bastards that aid you? But hmm…" He looked at Salter who was standing a step behind Nicholas with her head down apprehensively, “That one will make a fine pass time for my men I suppose, this new sea has been terribly unamusing.”

Nicholas did not appreciate the way the man was looking at him like he was a shitstain.

"Uh yeah, just a sec." Nicholas held up a hand, backing away towards the shore behind him as the Admiral chortled, amused, "Stay with me now."

"Do you think you will escape after the damage you have cau-"

Raising his leg, Nicholas kicked vertically downwards at the sea.

A massive boom and burst of wind later, the sea was parted in two right before their very eyes.

He was pretty sure one of the ships fell into the temporarily parted water.

"Let's talk about all that shit you was talking about the mother of my kid... Run them hands now, chucklefuck."

All men were left too astonished to formulate words, let alone answer his challenge.

-

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Hmm...full disclosure, I'm sleep deprived and have no idea what I did here. Sleep Deprivation equates a state akin to being high and on coke at the same time for me, from what I've experienced so far.

Since I have 6 hours left to go before I get to sleep, let's see what other questionable things I do.