*knock-knock* ...*knock-knock* ...
"Come in" said the captain with a voice duller than usual.
"It's me, Wily," Ron said as he entered.
"How are the boys?" asked the captain worried about his sailors, without looking up from his diary
"How are they going to be? ... For the ass they are, they just died 6 suddenly ..." Ron answered somewhat tired, while he went ahead to the wine cellar without looking at his captain.
Ron mixed two drinks. He took one serve and left the other on the table.
"I've never seen them so bad... They're not angry, Wily, they're scared..." Ron said, drinking his glass at the table from another serve "... a lot of them don't follow orders anymore, the situation is getting out of hand." hands"
"Did you manage to get any information?" Wiliam asked, as he flipped through some pages of his diary.
Ron ignored the question. And he began to prepare four drinks. He took two of them from a serve and the others he left on top of the table.
"Do you think we'll get out of this alive, Wily?" Ron asked quite depressed
"I have no doubts... We always get out alive" Said the captain, as he flipped through his notebook more quickly.
"Me neither... Wily" Ron said taking the other 2 glasses
"...but is it worth continuing to survive?"
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For the first time since Ron had arrived in the room, Wiliam looked up from his diary to look at his friend. Ron was completely shattered, his clothes were misplaced and a few pieces were missing, his face was completely dirty with tears that had recently dried.
"I have no doubts... I've been living for others more than myself for a long time" answered Wiliam
Ron didn't look back at him, he was just concentrating on preparing 8 glasses at the same time. He took 4 from a serve and left 4 untaken.
"The fat one...Tomy..." Ron muttered looking at the 4 glasses in front of him "...only 3 of the original crew left"
"And maybe by tonight we'll be even fewer..." Ron said, taking the 4 glasses in front of him.
"Perhaps..." The captain muttered, affected by the words of his old friend.
"Do you think this trip was a mistake?" William asked, his voice a little muffled.
"Ha, ha, ha... and which trip wasn't... that's the sea, that's our life..." River rum, already somewhat affected by alcohol. "Wily, you know what's saddest... It's that little by little you get used to it"
"25 Pigeons in a nest, only 10 learned to fly and now only 3 pigeons tell the anecdotes of the other 10"
"Do you know what scares me about this sea, Wily?"
Wiliam didn't reply, just stared at him for a while.
"I'm afraid of being the last to die on this damn ship, I'm afraid of being the last of the pigeons to die ha ha ha"
"You know what I'm afraid of, Ron?" Wily said, resuming reading from his journal.
"What are all your sailors dying for...?" I try to guess Ron.
"No, not to die on top of this ship" Wiliam said with a smile on his face as he read.
"Ha ha ha…if that makes more sense" Ron said taking directly from a bottle of wine.
*Gluk*...*Gluk* ... *Gluk*...*Gluk*
"This time we really have it difficult to get out alive, Wily"
"I know, we still have no idea what creature we're dealing with...and it's already killed 6 of our men" Wiliam said worried as he read.
*Gluk*...*Gluk* ... *Gluk*...*Gluk*
"Ha ha ha... But we've known for a long time what we're up against, Wily!" Ron shouted laughing, already quite affected by alcohol
Wiliam looked up expectantly at his first officer.
"Ha ha ha... This time we're up against a Wily fucking god... ha ha ha" Ron laughed, slamming the bottle from his hand onto a cabin wall.
"Since we got on the castaway, the pigeons defied the falcon! Ha ha ha"
"Everything is connected, William!" Ron yelled at the cabin ceilings, as if he were yelling at the gods themselves.