Grey rubbed the back of his head. A sensitive new lump told him that someone had the bright idea of clubbing him while he was asleep. A deadly mistake on their part but between his leash and his shotgun… he'd set matters straight. Becoming a bit more aware of his surroundings, Grey realised that he was in a cage, someone had taken his armour, and he was also unarmed. Grey was now royally pissed.
Looking around, Grey spotted someone leaning against a gangway railing. Finding a small bolt by his feet, Grey threw it at them, hitting them directly at the back of the head. While it had the desired effect of getting their attention, Grey had begun to wish it hadn't. Bounding over like a feral animal, the 'guard' had a face that looked like a wax figure standing beside a furnace. Sagging, rotten skin stretched over a fumbling figure, Grey had to use nearly every ounce of willpower he had not to vomit.
"Someone's been swimming around in their own gene pool, you inbred fuck!"
It swiped at Grey with wild, unpredictable claws and leapt up onto the cage. The cage swung back and forth and using that momentum, Grey put his weight behind a single haymaker, delivering it promptly to the guard's face. The guard was unfazed, and Grey's fist just buried itself into the guard's face. There didn't even seem to be any bones keeping the disgusting bastard together and as he turned back to Grey, one of his eyeballs just rolled out of its socket and rolled along the ground. As he leapt back up onto the cage again, a single shotgun blast rang into the air and the creature went limp and fell down into the bubbling cauldron of molten metal underneath. Hearing someone click their tongue, Grey turned back to the gangway.
"I've told them time and time again that I don't like anyone playing with my toys…"
A man stepped into the light. He was incredibly short and very portly, with mousy hair and a ratty moustache. The base of a broken bottle served as an impromptu monocle and a grubby red coat seemed to complete his outfit. Grey couldn't help himself and doubled over, laughing.
"And who the fuck are you?"
"My name is Spunkmeyer and I would recommend that you not mock the person who has the power of life and death over you… Greyson Hunt."
The mention of his name paired with the seemingly shallow threat was only fuel to Grey's laughter.
"Believe me Spunky, after the shitty couple days I've just had, you can go and pull that trigger. We both know you're not going to though. If you know who I am, you're gonna try and cash in my bounty."
Spunkmeyer seemed to be losing his patience as Grey continued mocking him.
"My name is Spunkmeyer and your mocking is pointless. I will leave you here and go and see if your female company is any more civilised."
Grey's eyes widened for a second before a smirk broke across his face again.
"Trishka? A word of warning there Spunky?"
Spunkmeyer rolled his eyes.
"Yes?"
"If you try and indulge in some 'companionship' with Trishka… you better be wearing a steel cup because Trishka will cut your balls off and make you choke on them."
"Goodbye Mr. Hunt"
Spunkmeyer left and Grey tried to find someway to get free. Spotting a crowbar sitting on a crate, Grey tried to swing the cage closer and closer in order to grab it. Grey's earlier fight must have caused a fair bit of damage though because the chain holding the cage gave away and after barely missing the molten metal beneath him, the cage fell, throwing Grey around inside. The cage crashed at the bottom but Grey landed hard on his shoulder. Grey bared his teeth as the stabbing pain in his shoulder told him that there was a good chance it was broken, or at least dislocated. Laying on his back, Grey pushed against the lock and it soon gave away. Crawling out, Grey decided the best idea was to find Trishka.
While Sarrano was a heartless, dick-less, self-loving, son-of-a-whore, serving under him in the military had taught Trishka quite a lot of essential skills like how to kill someone with a single knife slash or what to do when stuck in shitty situations. Waking up in a cage, naked, was one of those shitty situations and Trishka found an anger so intense ignite in the back of her mind, that her brain sort of had to do a reboot. The ground that she had been sleeping on was grimy and Trishka really didn't want to know why. After checking herself over and making sure she hadn't been cut or hurt, Trishka tried to find a way out. After a few minutes, someone walked in and threw a bundle of fabric towards Trishka.
"Boss says you gotta put this on…"
Trishka had a look at the 'outfit' in question. Putting it on, she'd be wearing even less than she currently was. Figuring a way out, Trishka started doing something she never thought she'd have to. Walking up against the edge of the cage, Trishka slowly stuck her hand out, gesturing for the pirate to come closer while cupping her breast with the other. Trishka wanted to murder every single fuck-wit on board this ship and she would but for now, her plan seemed to be working. Running her tongue over her lips seemed to help even more and now Trishka had her hands on the pirates chest, while he had his hands on her hips. Trishka leaned in as close as she could, running her hands over his torso and back until she found what she was looking for.
"Fuck… you're h-!"
Trishka had buried the pirates knife in his neck and with a violent spurt, Trishka had yanked the knife out sideways. As blood gurgled from the pirates corpse, Trishka grabbed a key and unlocked the cage. Searching the room for some decent clothes, all Trishka could find was leather straps or worse. Pulling a rifle from the corpse, Trishka headed out into the ship.
"Guess I better go find that other fuck-wit Hunt…"