The next day, in a hotel, the sailor was laying on a bed, sleeping as Stephanie was missing, looking like she went somewhere to get something for him.
For a few hours, he started waking up slowly from his unconsciousness, blinking with his left eye instead of his other eye that still closed for some reason.
He softly moans to himself, feeling a little dizzy from sleeping a very long time.
"What 'appened?" he mumbled to himself after he had fully woken up from his unconsciousness.
He glanced around in confusion, before trying to get up from the bed to see what is going on outside, only to wince in pain from the bruises that he has on his body from the fierce fight.
As he laid back down on the mysterious bed that he is laying on, softly hissing through his teeth as the pain slowly disappeared.
After the pain disappeared, he noticed he is wearing a tank top with a pair of gray boxers to keep his dignity covered.
His shoes and clothes are gone and not in the room, but luckily he was wearing his boxers from underneath the blankets so that no one else might come in to see him naked when he gets out of bed.
If he gets out of bed that is.
Mentally, he felt embarrassed about who found him and if that person had to change his clothes from the dirty pair he had on.
The room was peaceful, but, it was too quiet for his taste.
He felt like there is something fishy going on.
Although he is bedridden, he still has some strength in his body to fight against someone who captured him.
He continued glancing around in the mysterious room, looking suspicious and curious about who might own the apartment that he is inside.
And thought about who might be someone who has him for a prisoner, making him believe that the room is peaceful to relax in.
It seemed to be hours as he laid in bed, thinking to himself about who captured him, or who have hospitalized him.
Then, the doorknob of the room clicked unlocked, and he got ready to wallop the heck out of that person that just captured him, right in the face once he gets out of bed.
When the door creaked open, he sat up slightly from bed to get a better look and a better position to hit, when someone stepped into the room.
When the person stepped into the room, he stopped, noticing the figure, is actually a female!
She has tanned almond skin, long brown hair that reaches to the middle of her back, but the left-hand side is replaced with wires, as each strand is in different colors.
And on the right-hand side of her temple is a dyed strand of hair, that is in a cyan blue color, but hidden in the thickness of her hair.
Her eye color is steel-blue, as her left eye is replaced with a metal optic, in the same color as the other one.
Not only her left eye is metal, but her right hand was also metal too, which he probably guessed her entire arm is covered in metal too.
Her strange appearance confused him, but made him feel suspicious too.
She is wearing a pair of dark blue and black glasses, as the rim was squared shaped, and with round corners.
Over her body is a blue, white, cerulean, peacock, and sky cameo sweater with a hoodie that is enormous that reaches down to her thighs, with pockets on the sides of the garment and a silver zipper in the front, and with frost hems at the ends of the sleeves and the bottom of the garment.
She is also wearing a pair of blue jeans, that is down at the bottom of her ankles, and light purple, light blue shoes with white shoelaces.
"Oh, you're awake!" she exclaimed softly in relief when she noticed him, not even seeing he was about to punch her in the face.
"Yeah, 'm 'wake," he responded under his breath.
He laid back down in his bed from sitting up to attack her, still gazing at her with his one left eye.
She gently smiled after he had responded to her, as he noticed that she was not showing any signs that she wanted to harm him than what he was in or keeps him as a prisoner.
He watched her as she walked over to a table, cracking both of her knuckles of her hands, and sat down on the chair that she pulled back and reached into her left sweater pocket rummaging inside for a moment.
The sailor figured she was going to bring out a bomb to blow up the village, so he prepared himself to attack when she instead pulled out a shirt from inside and placed it down in front of her on the table.
After she had pulled that out, she then pulled out a small box of sewing utensils, and opened it, pulling out a needle from inside.
Then, she took out a long strand of black thread, looping it through the end of the needle's hoop, and started sewing the holes in the shirt, as he watched her.
But, it did not look like a shirt to him.
It looked like she is making him a bag so that he might be kidnapped.
"What are ye gunna do to me?" he asked, as he got up from bed slightly, still in pain from the bruises he is covered in.
He got up slightly in the bed he was inside as he readied his left arm to knock her out, or just to scare her.
"Me?" she curiously asked, glancing away from her project that she was making with her own hands with a confused look on her face. "I'm just sewing up your clothes here and perhaps talk 'bout what happened to your boat?"
He looked confused when she just answered his question that she is sewing his clothes up from the holes of the attack and just wants to talk to him about what happened earlier before she even got to the village.
He remembered the fight on the ship and only sighed, as he slowly leaned back into his bed.
"I'm not gunna answer that question." he softly replied, as he gently pulled the blanket over his face.
Then, the blanket was gently pulled down from his face, without him pulling it down with his hands, as the female was smirking slightly, as her left hand was pointing at the blanket.
He was confused about what she was doing, but shrugged it off his shoulders, figuring she was using strings to pull the blanket down.
But, it was like magic for some odd reason.
"There's no such thing as not answering," she softly spoke, as she stuck the needle in her project and turned around to face him. "I need to know so that I can help you with what happened to you."
"I'm not gunna answer." he stubbornly repeated, gently shaking his head side to side.
He moved his arms up from underneath the blanket and placed them on top of his stomach, wincing a bit in pain from the bruises he got.
His arms have large forearms with two anchor tattoos and slender upper arms, which mentally piqued Stephanie's curiosity.
"Oh, come on!" she exclaimed as she looked disbelieved at him for what he is acting foolishly. "You are the famous "dead" sailor!"
She remarked by quoting with her two fingers with both of her hands, as he glanced wistfully at her with a slightly puzzled look on his face, confused about how she knows about this and who he is.
"The one that lost his…" She trailed off when she takes a second glance at his arms and the tattoos, along with the missing eye.
She put the puzzle pieces together, thinking about the stories that the locals have told her about the "famous sailor" and how he saved the day, only with one eye.
He watched as her face turned from disbelief to confusion, as he got himself ready to attack if she was with the pirates that stole his girlfriend in the first place.
He cautiously moved his left hand down right next to his side, as if he was going to get up from the bed quickly and run away from her when he slightly winced in pain from the bruises.
The sailor was still injured from the fight and could not move any more muscles to escape from her.
So, he has to stay in bed and watch her, to see what she is going to do next, as he sat up from lying down on the bed slightly.
Out of the blue, her confused and thinking face changed into shock, remembering all the stories about this "famous sailor" were related to him, and even when she brought him to the village, people have been saying it is him!
"Holy freaking shiitake mushrooms, Batman!" she suddenly exclaimed, startling him too, as he jolted.
"What?!" he questioned anxiously.
"You're Popeye! Popeye the one-eyed freaking sailor!" she exclaimed happily, answering his worried question as she pointed eagerly at him with her right hand.
Confused, he slightly relaxed a bit from his worry and said, while pointing at himself with his right hand, confused about her outcry, "Y-Yes, that's me…?"
"Oh, my freaking gosh!" she exclaimed loudly, as she placed both of her hands on each side of her head. "I am so sorry for scaring you like that, I've found you drifting out in the sea while I was singing a song that-"
"Wait a moment." he interrupted, before getting up from the bed, wincing slightly from the wounds all over his body, as she was going to get up from the chair she is sitting on, but stayed, as he only stopped there. "Were you that gorl that was singin' that song?"
"Yeah," she answered gently, as she repositioned herself, before singing a line, "🎵The seas be ours and by the powers, where will we will, we'll roam.🎵"
"🎵Yo ho, haul together, hoist the colors high.🎵" he sang back, as Stephanie smiled, gently chuckling to herself.
"And were you that sailor that defeated this Bluto guy?" she curiously asked, making a mention of him with her body.
She puffed her chest out to make the look of Bluto that he is buffed from all the muscles that made him big and hairy according to the villagers that talked about him behind his back if he is not there.
"Uh, yes?" he confusedly answered again, as she unpuffed her chest.
"Oh my gosh, you are the well-known sailor to the village!" she exclaimed joyfully. "The locals weren't lying about you beating the snot out of that guy!"
He remembered his fight against the bully Bluto that he had defeated 2 years ago and sadly sighed.
"Yes, I 'member that day," he sighed, as he laid back down on his bed. "But who are ya by th' way?"
"Oh, Stephanie, Stephanie Nova Rose Allen." she introduced herself, before holding out her left hand for a handshake, which he took.
"Popeye the sailor man." he introduced himself, as he shook her hand with her gently.
But his introduction sounds miserable that Stephanie noticed when he shook her hand.
Like what others said, he was a cheerful man who always cheers other local people up by singing or usually beats bullies up to save the town.
But this was out of the blue that Stephanie had never noticed before.
She gently released his hand along with him and went back to sewing while he stared out into the ceiling of the room, thinking to himself sadly.
Stephanie kept glancing at him a few times to look at him, he looked sad as he stared up at the ceiling, not even bothering to talk to her.
"You… had a rough year, 2 years ago?" She questioned, feeling curious about what happened.
"No, not really," he answered, sound sad. "I was… on a fancy ship, and I was goin' ask 'er for being my goilfriend when this barbaric pirate appeared out of th' middle of nowhere and attacked the ship."
Stephanie listened to every word explained, once again, stopping where she is and listened to him explaining everything that happened in the past before Stephanie was even around.
"I tried rescuin' 'er but those fearsome pirates were just too much for me, and I was defeated and was left to die underneath that rubble that you've found me," he explained. "Now, I don't think I can rescue 'er or find 'er."
She softly sighed as she finished off where she was, tying the knot in the stitches so that it would not come loose.
After tying a knot, she got up from the chair that she was sitting on, stretching out her legs from being stiff.
"I used to think the same way, Pop," she replied to his words, glancing over at him with a slight hurt look on her face.
"How do you know?" he asked, glancing wistfully at her with a slightly curious look on his face.
"Because I used to be down in the dumps from those guys back at my home," she answered as she gently shook his black shirt to get the leftover strings that are stuck on it and carefully checked if there were any stitches out. "But, I was bein' an optimistic person back then."
Popeye glanced over at Stephanie with a slightly confused look on his face, wondering what she meant by that.
"Whenever I was called something, hurt by something or something that people just do to make others hurt like them," Stephanie continued, walking over to Popeye, and placed her hand on his chest.
He expected a stinging pain of the bruise that he has, but nothing happened.
It seemed to be already healed.
But, it was quick.
He thought that it would take some time to heal fully.
Then, she pulled the blanket down from covering his body and placed her hands underneath his armpits.
"I just pick myself up;" She carefully picked Popeye from the bed with both of her hands, as he looked surprised at how well she can gently lift him up without any pauses of trying to get him up and gently placed him back down on the ground, bare feet first.
"And put me back on my feet and try again next time." she finished, moving her hands from his armpits.
When he was placed back down on the ground, she was down to his shoulders, which mentally impressed him more.
She glanced up at his eyes, and smiled brightly, which confused him, but feel more suspicious about her.
"Now, let's get you dressed and find your love!" she happily exclaimed, gently patting his shoulder with her right hand.
She walked by him to her table and carefully picked up his messy blue jeans that smelled like charcoal from the fire and filled with holes here and there.
Stephanie softly huffed in slight irritation by how those ruthless pirates ripped his shirt up with no reason, but, went to work to fix the holes that were pierced through without any complaints.
He watched in confusion as she worked on his blue jeans, as he took the shirt from where she was stitching and put it on.
"Thanks." he thanked.
"You're welcome," she replied gently.
After he put on his shirt, he watched her as she sews his pants, as time went by slowly.
Everything was peaceful inside the room, as he watched her sew his pants, pushing her glasses into place a couple of times, with her right hand after pausing and pricking her fingers a few times.
He wondered how she can be this calm, although she was happy to help him find his love the next?
Is she diagnosed with multiple personality disorder?
But then she finished sewing the blue jeans and gave them to him, as he took it from her.
Then, she moved to stitch his hat from the rips too, as he put on his pants stitched from the holes, putting a gray belt around his waist after was handed over to him from Stephanie after she paused for a minute.
After he put on his belt, he glanced over at Stephanie, with a thoughtful look on his face, wondering about her.
He wanted to say something to her, but stopped himself, deciding not to say anything to her, until he fully trusts her.
Popeye grabbed a pair of socks that Stephanie gave him and pointed to where his shoes are, while distracted by sewing his hat.
After he put on his shoes, Stephanie finished with his hat, and stood up from the chair, brushing the string off her pants, as she put the sewing supplies away into her sweater pockets.
Then, after she had finished cleaning up her area, she picked up his hat and held it out to him.
Before he took it from her, he had noticed that not only she fixed the holes, she also stitched his signature name into it too.
He placed his hat on top of his head, as Stephanie reached up with her right hand, and jokingly pushed his hat down over his eye.
Popeye pushed it back up after she jokingly pushed it down over his eyes before she took his right hand in her hand.
"Let's go find your girlfriend!" she exclaimed joyfully.
He paused for a moment, thinking to himself for a moment before nodding his head once, agreeing with her.
Before he could turn around to open the door, Stephanie noticed something was off with him and grabbed his hand again, gently tugging him back.
"One minute!" she exclaimed as he glanced at her from the door. "We need a ship to find her instead of a dingy, and you're missin' one more thing…"
Stephanie released his hand after getting his attention, as she moved her left hand up to her face.
She focused for a moment, as Popeye watched in confusion, wondering what she was doing.
Before he could ask her, a random bubble appeared above her palm, and inside that bubble, is a corncob pipe.
He looked surprised when a bubble appeared, and she grabbed it with both of her hands, and then popped it, letting the pipe land into her right hand.
Then, she turned the pipe around and popped it into his mouth, smiling gently.
"There, that's better!" she exclaimed joyfully, gently clapping her hands together in glee.
He gently moved the corncob pipe to the other side to the corner of his mouth and felt suspicious and puzzled about her.
She looked joyful to help him find his love, as he felt suspicious about that.
But does not want him to feel sad and keep urging him to find her from those pirates.
He had met a siren before which was a Sea Hag, so, he felt like she is the Sea Hag in disguise that he did not notice before when he first met her now.
"Are you a siren?" he asked, cautious about who she is.
She paused for a moment, thinking to herself for a moment, as he waited for a response from her.
After a moment has passed, Stephanie glanced back up to Popeye's eye and softly sighed.
"Nah," she shrugged, shrugging her shoulders. "It depends on what you think about me."
He felt more puzzled when she said that, as she walked past him and to the door, reaching over to the doorknob and gently opened the door, but did not exit out of the room as he had expected.
Stephanie instead turned around to him, as she has a slightly hurt look on her face.
"If I am a siren, I'm a siren, if I am not a siren, then I'm not a siren," she softly spoke, as she glanced down the hallway of the hotel. "It depends on with your gut that you follow."
He glances down at his gut, looking confused about what she meant, and she softly chuckled at his confusion.
"Just think about it, okay?" Stephanie softly spoke, before turning around to the door.
She left the room to the outside, leaving him in the hotel room that she had stayed inside for a while.
He shrugged his shoulders and decided to follow his gut about her and follow her to find a ship for his taste to find his love.
If she is a siren, he just has to get out of his sticky situation by the force of his own fists if plan A does not follow right to his ideas.