#captain captain

Captain Captain pulled his arm out of Tom's and tried to pick up his pace again. Unfortunately his short legs left him at a disadvantage. "--not going home anymore. Yer going back to those phony lookalikes."

"Tucker's all sick and sneezing, Sonja and Wag are gone and Sparklez is probably with SkeleTom." Tom made sure to say his alternate's name with as much disgust as possible. 

Captain Captain raised an amused eyebrow. "That ought to be interesting. I wonder how long my double will last. He looks passive, that shameful duplicate has no chance. SkeleTom took a liking to em though?" Captain Captain fixed his gaze forward. "Hmph," he pondered it.

Tom's eyes lit up, "We can prank them!" Captain Captain went quiet and tried escaping again before Tom grabbed his arm. "You hate your alternate and I hate mine! It's perfect, we'll have so much fun!"

Before saying no Captain Captain glowered at him. The stupid zombie was clinging on to his arm near desperate. Disgusting. He clearly wasn't leaving anytime soon and his pea sized brain had managed to make a decent point. He could shoot him with his crossbow for fun if anything. 

"Alright. Ye can join me for today if ya' listen to me. I'll drown ya' otherwise."

"Yes! Capt you're so much better than Sparklez!" Tom fistbumped the air and grabbed on to Captain Captain trapping him in a tight hug. Captain Captain immediately took his arm and threw him on his back. 

Tom yelped when he hit the ground. He rubbed his arm and checked to make sure it hadn’t been pulled free. He wouldn’t want to go to Sparklez to get his arm restitched with SkeleTom around.

"Captain Captain,” came the correction.

Tom watched in awe as he continued to walk on at a more normal speed, wavy hair flowing behind him as he pulled out a dagger and started sharpening it. Tom scrambled back up, ignoring the pain stretching on his side.  

"Teach me how to do that."

"No."

Tom pouted, "How did you become such a badass?" He scoffed "And I get stuck with Jordan?"

"How’d I get stuck with ye?" Captain Captain mumbled.

"What was that?"

Captain Captain faced him with a fixed glare. "I said how’d I get stuck with ye," He said right to Tom's face making sure he'd hear him. His scar-littered complexion was sunbleached and the malice in his eyes clear.

Tom blinked. He saw Captain Captain's nonchalant expression and he couldn’t help but laugh. Captain Captain's glare didn't waver. 

"Thank gods you have a good sense of humor, gods know Jordan doesn't. You're funny Capt."

"Captain Captain." Captain Captain grumbled.

"So, now that we're best friends--"

"No."

"--what can I call you?" Tom tried to grab his arm again.

Captain Captain yanked it away. "Captain Captain, nothin' else--"

"I could give you a sick nickname!"

"Ye will not unless yer looking to lose a foot--"

Tom continued, "Captain Captain is too long. How about Capt?"

"Captain Captain."

"No, that’s what SkeleTom calls you." Tom said his name mockingly, repeating it in the kiss up way Jordan did. "Cap'n?"

"Captain Captain."

"Nah that's too close to Capt." Tom scratched his chin in thought, "CaptCapt?"

"Captain Captain,” Captain Captain corrected under his breath. The second time Tom incorrectly said his name his eye twitched. “Captain Captain."

"Cappy? Like--’hey Cappy!’" Tom half waved, exampled greeting with the nickname. 

"Captain Captain. Captain Captain,” he tossed his dagger in the air, fingers stilling as if his muscles betray him with their desire to impale it in Tom’s throat.

Tom saluted with a wacky grin. "O’ Captain my-Captain?"

"Captain Captain," he deadpanned.

"Captain Pirate? Pirate Captain? You're more of a captain than Sparklez anyways."

"Captain Captain. Captain Captain." Captain Captain's eye twitched again. He sharpened his dagger loudly, scraping the metal with as much force as he could. His dagger looked ready to cleave through bone. 

"Maybe Captain Crunch? I feel like I heard that somewhere."

"Captain Captain."

"How about Captain SexyPants, huh?" Tom elbowed him and sent a wink that went ignored as he stared ahead, barely containing his anger in a muttered 'Captain Captain.'

"Oh, I know!" Tom exclaimed, even more excitement in his eyes. He turned to Captain Captain like a kid looking to please their new favorite friend. 

Captain Captain clenched his jaw "No, no nicknames--"

"Captain Not-Sparklez" 

Captain Captain gripped his dagger tightly. His knuckles were white and his eyes flickering with murderous intent. "Captain. Captain."

"Better Jordan it is!" Tom exclaimed with petty joy, having completely blocked out everything Captain Captain said while he was thinking of names.  

"Captain Captain." Captain Captain said through his teeth, his dagger shooting straight down, landing besides Tom's foot. He turned around a sharp corner, out of Tom's sight in an instant.

"Hey! It almost hit my foot--wait up! You dropped your--actually, I'm keeping this now." Tom pulled the dagger from the ground and shoved it in a scabbard attached to his belt. He caught up with Captain Captain who managed to get very far down the street in a very short time. 

Out of breath, Tom jogged after him. His bet was on Captain Captain forgetting he had lost the dagger and Tom would keep it. He'd have the best weapon compared to his friends who had little to nothing with how Honey watched them.

Tom already tried and failed to threaten going rogue, but Honey had left him and his threat with a glare. Wordlessly she had dismissed him, turned on her heel and left. Tom had gaped at her empty space. No one had done that--he always got an answer, she just--left! The second time he mentioned it he got a very simple, "I wouldn't advise that sort of behavior." He wasn't scared of her. Not even in the slightest. 

Tom traced a pattern that decorated the dagger's handle. It looked like the ocean in the sea green metal, and Tom could see the mist and fog over grey water and sharp waves leading to an island. A fallen palm tree, small and firmly engraved caught his finger nail as he traced it. All of the designs lead right to the dagger's blade. He slid it back in his scabbard. 

"So how'd you land here anyways? Why didn't you explore the ocean and fight narwhals or some shit? Why'd you stay here?"

"Why’do ye ask so many questions?" Captain Captain asked. Tom had sapped the life from him. It's only been an hour and he's already wearing him down. He should've never let him haggle him.

"Why don't you answer my questions? I am helping you after all." Tom said with nerve Captain Captain couldn’t believe. A gnat batting at him shouldn’t have such gills.

Captain Captain mimicked a blank stare. "The Gods called on me to find a land for them. I was a wee bit late, but I did my duty."

Tom watched as Captain Captain kicked a rock. "Evil Ianite?" He missed Captain Captain's eye roll.

"Yes, Ianite." The rock jumped and rolled, running until it fell into a small ditch and was out of sight. "The lass called upon me, only me. My crew had long died." Tom glanced at the pile of rocks filling the little ditch like bodies. He looked back at Captain Captain and he was lost in his old world of sharp waves and dreary seas. Of crazed nights brought by never ending isolation and the delirious hinge on hysteria and imbalance, of deranged imaginations that would drive one to insanity. 

"That's sick! Can you describe it in like, a pirate-y metal song? Imagine how hardcore of a head-banger that'd be! Gods, Jordan's such a pussy bitch, he just washed up on Mianite but you actually fought on the ocean, for real! That's why you're Captain Not-Sparklez. Better Jordan is simpler though. Meh, I'll just switch between them."

"It's Captain Captain. And ye better shut your trap about my double." Captain Captain stopped abruptly in front of some old backstreet. "Captain Captain, learn it for Ianite's sake."

Tom, who wasn't paying attention, walked straight into Captain Captain's back. Captain Captain looked back at him with a fixed glare before facing the building again. It was exactly like all the rest, painted prim and sharp, and through the ornate window, matching furniture decorating the inside of a cozy living room. But dust layered over the window, dust layered over everything. It was exactly like all the other houses: abandoned. 

Tom didn't linger on it too long. Eyes returning to his new friend. 

How cool was he? Being best friends with the person who’s responsible for the emptiness of the town--and a real professional pirate captain at that. 

"Why are we at this ratty building, I thought we were going to do pranks? Let's go prank people!" Tom whined, leaning on his leg.

Captain Captain kicked the building with enough force to clear a layer of dust off the window and startle a few small spiders building webs. Tom watched in amazement as a trap door opened in front of him. "What's down there?"

"My stuff. Stay up here." Captain Captain got ready to jump down before Tom threw his arm in front of him and leaned close.

"I don't mind being taken home before the first date." Tom waggled his eyebrows with a grin. He hoped to fluster the Captain, as he could easily do with Jordan, but he was sorely disappointed. 

Captain Captain stayed stoic. "Stay 'ere unless you want your dead body to be thrown into a ditch and washed out to sea."

Tom frowned. Geesh, hard audience. He had to appreciate Jordan's inability to respond to half of what Tom threw at him. It was more gratifying to have someone stammer and flush, or get infuriated from mere words, then it was to be ignored. 

As Capt Capt jumped down, hair flowing after him, letting the trap door shut behind him. "Thrown in a ditch and washed out to sea," Tom mocked, staring at the hidden entrance. "Even Sparkly-asshole would've had a better reaction." Tom grinned wickedly, "No one tells me what to do." and kicked the building as hard as he could.

"OW, OW OH SHIT, MY FOOT." Tom clutched his foot, his knee in the air hopping around in pain. The trap door opened. On closer examination--he noticed the “kicking the building” part was really Captain Captain had kicked a button. Tom rubbed his foot.

He eyed the trap door for a moment. Was this a smart decision?

Better question, Tom humored: who cares?

He stretched his foot and looked down. He jumped in-- "YOLO, OH NOO--FUCK" and the trap door closed behind him. 

Tom tumbled onto dirt.

"By gods, yer so loud, Honey could'a heard you from the town hall!"

Tom chuckled dusting himself off as he got up, "I'm not afraid of her."

Captain Captain hummed, wrapping some rope around his arm. Tom scanned the room. It was more of a bunk than a room; it was huge. There was a single light hanging in the center, every so often it swung a little, dirt above trickling down onto his head. He brushed it off. The shelves were lazily stocked with all kinds of ropes and knives. A stash of TNT and weapons lay disorderly across barrels, crates and the ground. The sight entranced Tom, but what really got his attention was a stray flint and steel. It was within grabbing range and he felt his fingers twitch. "Where'd you get all this stuff from?" he asked, inching his way to a crossbow similar to Captain Captain's.

"Didn't I tell you to stay up there?" Captain Captain growled, snatching away the crossbow before Tom could get his hands on it. Captain Captain casually reached into a shelf when he passed by and put a set of pouches into his pirate coat's pockets. Tom followed him, brushing past a stray wooden chair, taking mental note of where the flint and steel was. "I'm not afraid of you either." Tom smirked at Captain Captain.

Captain Captain was fuming. He glanced at Tom trying to steal more weapons. He didn't have any common sense. They--Tom and the doubles--obviously had no idea who they were dealing with. 

"Grab that tripwire from the shelf over there." Tom beamed, pride filling him from the smile Captain Captain gave, rushing for the tripwire nearly tripping over his own feet. To others it may seem wicked, scars ruining what was once careless and ecstatic, or eyes missing light, the light dangling above making shadows over his face covering a half-grin that was cold, empty and fake but to Tom it was what he aspired for. And when the moment ended and Captain Captain turned around and started walking away, Tom rushed after him. 

He followed Captain Captain to a passageway that definitely wasn't there before. He must've opened it when Tom got him the tripwire. The passageway was short, especially for Tom who was just that extra two inches taller than Jordan and Captain Captain, and it only got smaller and smaller. Tripwires and pressure plates he could barely see littered the way and Tom struggled to pass them hunched over. He felt his knees digging into his ribcage, arms scraping against the walls leaving him with a few nicks here and there. He followed Captain Captain's footsteps, trying to match his smooth pace over every trap. Just above Captain Captain he could see light. 

Captain Captain shared Jordan's ability to make traps, and looked to be the better of the two. Just another thing Captain Captain was better at than old Sparklydick. Tom started planning ways to make an even better trap. He'd shove Tucker or Jordan into it. 

He just barely stepped over a tripwire when they got out. Tom squinted in the sun, buildings all alike filling his view once more. He looked at where he exited from. A small storm cellar besides a house was the tunnel's cover. They were on a completely different street and if Tom looked down the block he'd see how decently close it was to SkeleTom's house--just a few streets away. Captain Captain closed the storm cellar's wooden doors and faced Tom with a deadly glare. 

"Ye will not tell anyone about my bunker. No one. Not Honey, farmer boy or baker belly. Ye will not tell any of yer friends, especially my double or ya' wish yer God would spare ye--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I won't tell anyone one, got it! Let’s go!”

The pranks were simple enough in nature, and Tom placed the tripwire as directed just in-time to have Captain Captain pull him out of view as Mericho came walking past. He looked to be about to meet up with SkeleTom when his foot crossed the tripwire and an arrow cut through his rucksack, opening the bottom of the cloth and spilling out all of his contents. 

Immediately, from down the block SkeleTom scurried over to help Mericho pick up his goods and Captain Captain laughed quietly, retreating down the street and leaving Tom to follow after him. Tom was awestruck and he found himself buzzing with energy. “That was so well thought out--and you did it so quick!”

“Aye,” Captain Captain remarked. 

Tom eyed the sky warily. It was getting late. “Can we do this tomorrow?”

Captain Captain fixed him with a look. Barely hidden disgust etched into his features--suddenly the look broke away to a grin. “Tell ye what--I’ll let ye scurvy join me--if ye can pull off a…” Captain Captain gestured grandly with his hands. “An explosive prank, around late noon. Savvy? I’ll point ye to a house and all ye’ll need to do is make it go up in flames” “I can do that easily,” Tom boasted.

“Good, good,” Captain Captain purred. “Then we’ll see, tomorrow.”

…. 

Tom was the last one out of the bed and breakfast--besides the snotty mess that was sniffling from the bed to the right of his. He peered over at the shaking ball of mucus and cringed. Nasty. 

Tom threw his covers off to the side, far from Tucker, and careful inched around his bed, staying far away from any stray blanket or pillow that could've come into contact with his nose. Tom was inches away from freedom, ready to dash past the other empty beds and go straight for Jordan's food chest when he heard Tucker from under his comforter. Tom ignored him and tried to sneak along--he was two steps away from being out of Snot Land. 

"Ah--" Tom froze, feeling his finger tips go numb. "Ah--" He was so close! "AH--" No--Not like this! 

"CHOO!" Tom dove head first to the ground, watching his life flash before his eyes as Tucker's sneeze flew right above him in slow motion. Tucker's little mucus cocoon shifted a bit with a sad groan. 

Tom recoiled in distaste thinking of all the ways he could kick out Tucker so he could get a decent night of sleep--his stupid sniffles, sneezes and snores probably kept everyone up. Not that he was able to sleep well with all the buzzing excitement of burning a house with Captain Captain in the afternoon anyways but Tucker deserved to get booted--no he didn't need a reason to kick him out, already hearing his friends' protest.

Tom sauntered down to the wine cellar, half expecting Jordan to be there working on the portal or at least asleep on it. He found the room empty, a pillow and blanket discarded in a corner, and his shoulders sagged instantly. So much for bragging about his New Best Friend. 

Having no sense of anything or anyone but himself, Tom was unable to see the little change to the blue prints or the lack of progress made to further their plans home. The room was all the same to him save a few baggies he noticed laying idly by stray blueprints. Tom, in his curiosity, snatched one and opened it. A few crumbs and a half eaten cookie fell out. He eyed what was left of the cookie and the empty baggies.

SkeleTom. 

Tom growled, throwing the baggie to the floor and glaring at it with more disdain than he did when Tucker snored. He stomped on the cookie out of pettiness--already seeing them laughing together in the wine cellar over a bag of cookies his alternate had so kindly made--and prowled back to the chests, going through Jordan's. He grabbed the last bit of bread and meat that was left--not that he'd miss it anyways, seeing how SkeleTom's been catering to his hunger, Tom thought spitefully. 

He rubbed his foot on the crushed cookie, a scowl stretched over his face, unaware of the unfinished blueprint he was crushing beneath it. 

With one last kick to Jordan's pillow, Tom ascended back to the room unsatisfied imagining it was SkeleTom's face as each step echoed through the empty BnB. Near empty anyway, the mucus monster upstairs was probably awake now, assuming he was even able to sleep with how clogged his nose was.

Thank gods Tucker wasn't leaving anytime soon, Tom celebrated as he walked into the room. He'd get snot all over CaptCapt and Tom couldn't make a bad second impression. His future best friend forever would not tolerate such disgusting company. Tom would have to kick Tucker out if he came and Captain Not-Sparklez would probably be grateful to have him left behind…

"Tucker! Tucker, get the fuck up" Tom grabbed Jordan's pillow and swung it as hard as he could. Feathers flew into the air. 

"What--Tom, stop it--Tom--"

"Get up!" Tom swung at his face one more time and carefully picked up the cleanest corner with two fingers and threw it on the floor. Better Jordan's pillow than his. "You're hanging out with me and Better Sparklez today. Stop being gross and get dressed." He'll bring Tucker along and kick him out to make himself look better. A perfect plan.

"No, I feel horrible,” Tucker said and with a small cough he rolled over. Tom nudged him. A groan answered. He saw two brown eyes look at him in the huddled mess. “SkeleTom's medication didn't help at all." Tucker shoved his face into his pillow. Tom scowled at the mention of his alternate. He snatched Tucker's pillow from under his head. 

"I don't give a shit, come on."

Tucker uselessly brought up his arms to defend himself from Tom's attacks before giving up and pulling his covers over his head. "I'll get up in ten minutes." Tucker's voice came out even more muffled and congested from under the comforter. "And give my pillow back you jackass."

Tom scoffed and aimed directly for his head. "I can't wait for you; catch up with us. Be extra snotty when you come!" He ignored Tucker's groan and slammed the door behind him. 

Tom squinted in the sun, getting whiplash from the sudden heat and light of midday. The zombie part of him was naturally prone to night, keeping him alert and ravenous for mischief and the part that keep him conscious was used to lurking under the cover of dark.  

Excited for the day ahead of him, Tom was practically skipping his way to Captain Captain's secret dirt basement. He idly tore Jordan's food into bits, anticipation rolling off of him like waves. Focused on breaking up the near stale food, his feet were leading him without thought and he hadn't bothered to make sure he wasn't being followed--forgetting the one rule Captain Captain had gave him the day before. Even though he didn't know it, he was lucky Tucker had decided to hang back instead of going with him straight to Captain Captain's bunker. 

These thoughts hadn't even crossed the back of his mind as he munched on the meat--he was always more of a carnivore who snacked much later during the day and night times--walking in oblivious bliss and collecting bits of the bread he refused to even taste.

Growing steadily bored of walking wherever his feet took him and not having anymore meat to eat, Tom decided to take a good look over the town. It was well kept, neat clean streets and a nice quiet neighborhood were made of isles of empty houses. Tom was ready to wreak havoc on the peacefulness just as he'd done for Mianite and Ruxomar. Out of everything, what did catch his eye was a crow picking at dirt by the street he was strolling on, a small cluster of mushrooms nearby it.

Tom paused to observe it--more like stare it down--until it stared right back at him. Tom tilted his chin up smirking with his height over it--SkeleTom held a few inches over him and it only gave more reason to hate him, especially when he made short jokes and quips at him even though stupid ole Jordan was shorter than both of them. Tom, in a miraculous moment of awareness, threw a piece of bread at the crow.

The crow only stared into his soul, beady eyes looking straight into his black and red ones. Tom glared when the crow poked at the bread only to step over it and give a rattling squawk in disapproval. It's caw was hoarse and empty, seeming near dead as Tom himself. He threw another piece of bread, this time more impatient. 

"Eat it you stupid bird. I'm giving you food."

The crow jumped from the bread and cawed again, sounding just as irritated as the zombie was. Tom hurled the last of the bread pieces back at it, a scowl finding its way back on him. 

The crow gave a set of angry clicks and caws before flying right at Tom. Tom shrieked when it tried to nip at him as it passed. It turned back and swooped a second time, successful in pecking him this time. 

"Ow! What the fuck--get off of me! Shoo!" Tom, with much force, got it to stop grabbing at whatever skin was visible and fly away with more hollow screeches. He watched it fly off towards a fenced off area and out of curiosity he scanned the area for more of them. There were no animals, no clear group of crows waiting to attack except for the few hanging around the area surrounding Mericho's farm by the other side of the town.

Tom's feet carried him on and he looked up to find himself at the building hiding the bunker. It was then that he realized that Captain Captain hadn't told him where to meet with him. He felt a flash of fear--what if he went to the wrong spot? What if he didn't show up?

He perished the thought, let it burn to a charcoal crisp with a sharp crack and let it bleed into an annoyance. He just wants to burn a building and cause mischief with a side of shenanigans. Where was he?

Tom's foot was tapping so impatiently it was a surprise it hadn't just popped off. He started pacing and pacing turned out to be more of a little wiggle.

"I’m waiting, I'm waiting. I'm waiting for my new best friend! Who will be with me...what rhymes with friend--till the end! And I’m waiting, I’m waiting. I'm waiting to set a fire! To Jordan's asshole! And SkeleTom's...asshole, asshole what...SkeleTom's arsehole! Or...house...house with--coal!"

Tom had finished his little dance with a twirl and in a moment of near terror he caught Captain Captain's eyes and froze.

Captain Captain had changed his pirate attire for something a little more...fitting--for a Captain such as himself, Tom thought gawking.

He had kept his badass pirate boots and black jeans but this time he had a white v-neck that rivaled Jordan's--and revealed a lot more chest hair--a navy blue top with no sleeves laid over it. He had his white shirt sleeves rolled up and in his hand was his pirate coat, the really cool one with the silver metallic buttons. What really caught his eye, besides the chest hair, was the loose bun holding up some of his hair, letting the rest of it flow behind him at shoulder length. He could see some stray curls freely shaping his face and a small, single braid among the hair that wasn't in the bun.

Tom nearly fell on his face as he gaped, feeling heat rise up his neck.

Captain Captain glared at him. It was too early in the day to be dealing with him but then again...he was going to help so he settled on a more reasonable answer: "What the fuck are ye doin'?"

Tom blinked. Then he blinked again and forced his mouth closed. Tom could wither under the cool gaze and suave curl of his mouth, a scar running by it drawing the line between a scowl and what Tom saw as a cheeky grin. "What are you doing?"

"Me eyes arr' up 'ere." Captain Captain growled. Tom was swooning now, the pirate accent and low rumbling growl officially capturing the attention of his whole being. 

"Stop drooling, it's disgusting." 

Tom covered his exposed mouth, too dazed to be self conscious. He was still in a state of shocked awe and admiration when Captain Captain pressed a burlap sack into his arms.

"What's--What's this?" Tom poked at the sack, recovering from his stupor.

Captain Captain's smirk made his knees go weak, "For the house."

….

Tom stared up at the up at the house. From a distance it looked like the rest surrounding the square, blurred behind Tom's view, but standing before the little porch he could see every detail.

Every bit of flammable wood plank painted grey, all the uncared for loose planks with chipped paint that would burn away with the rest, the wooden floor and staircase that was going to take down the second story in a flash of blazing flames--he was suddenly hyper aware of it all.

"You want me to burn this one?"

Tom turned to face Captain Captain, who's teasing eyebrow raise and grin made his grip slack, releasing the bag to the ground. He watched star-gazed as Captain Captain strutted over and swooped for the bag with a quick squat, rising right back in Tom's face. 

"Unless ye can't. Ye can, can’t ya?"

Tom's breath hitched at the way Captain Captain dangled the bag lazily between two fingers, his heart skipping a beat at the playful taunt. He snatched the bag.

"Of course I can. I've done worse before" Tom exclaimed with his own lopsided smile, already going through the contents it held. Captain Captain didn't wait a beat.

"I’m sure ye have." He razzed Tom, his voice grating, and it almost made Tom drop the flint and steel he took out--taking the compliment straight to his heart. 

'Your friends never compliment you. You don't do anything good.’ A voice that sounded like his with a hint of the original Dianite's voice underneath crowed at him smugly and Tom buried it again, pushed it far away, as deep as he could. He murmured to himself, 'Captain Captain thinks you're good. He likes spending time with you. Don't disappoint him. He's your best friend.’ He dug deeper into the bag. 

"TNT?" Tom asked, "Capt you shouldn't have." He gushed with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he held it up. Tom would've sworn on his life that Captain Captain had sent him a wink worth dying for.

"Captain Captain. Obviously, how else ar' ye planin' to get it done?"

Tom eyed over the explosive with hunger. He was the only one who got to do this--stand besides Captain Captain, hold the fate of a whole house in his hands. None of his friends could dream of being in his position, not Wag, Tucker or Sonja. Not Jordan. No one.

"Ye better not wussy out." Captain Captain ribbed.

"Not even the Gods could stop me." 

Captain Captain raised an eyebrow, eyeing the zombie and the TNT. His eyes drifted over the area before taking a step off to the side. "I'll be back."

Tom turned immediately, his focus back on Captain Captain. "Where are you going? You aren't going to watch?"

Captain Captain pointed a thumb over his shoulder, "I’m gonna get some stuff." Tom pouted and before he could speak he continued, "Might even bring mor' TNT for ya."

Tom's face lit up, greedy for more. "Be back soon! Wait--don't you want to watch? We're the dynamic duo, Tom and Better Jordan!"

Captain Captain's mouth flickered before curling again, and Tom felt pride flood his veins, “I'll be watching." Tom followed his sauntering figure for a moment, watching as he put on his coat, eyes drifting over his hair before he turned back to face the building.

The building stood tall and empty before Tom but he felt taller, bigger. The TNT was weighted in his hands and the flint and steel pressed deep into his palm. He hadn't felt this strong since he became MechaDianite for a few hours. Every prank, every scandalous night of shenanigans, every escape, it all felt the same. It was intoxicating.

He swaggered up to the building and took another good look at it. It was empty and wooden--why would anyone make their house wooden? They were just asking for it to catch fire.

Tom put down the TNT in the doorway. He fiddled with the flint and steel in his fingers. All it took was one click and the grey house would turn into colorful bursts of red and orange. 

"Captain Captain." Captain Captain murmed bitterly as he turned straight into an alleyway. He had tried to hold his breath tightly for a good moment, refusing to repeat his name, but it took him over regardless. He swiftly jumped, grabbing on to a decorative trim and he climbed onto the terrace of a building opposite to the one the nitwit zombie was in. He watched from the shadows as Tom put down the TNT. 

His eye twitched again recalling Toms stupid remark “TNT? Capt you shouldn’t have.” What else would it be? How did the idiot think he was gonna bring the house down? He nearly reintroduced his name on instinct his head replaying the way Tom said Capt like a broken, squeaky record player—his eye twitched again. 

Every time he thought he could handle the somehow-sentient-zombie he found he could barely contain his annoyance. Captain Captain hummed a low note, his low oaky voice echoing in the alleyway behind him. Not a single soul heard him and not a single soul still alive had heard the entrancing pirate shanty. It was familiar, one he made himself and used while he did this and that. The words came out on their own as he watched the idiot below.

“I'm sick in the head and I haven't gone to bed, since I first came ashore from me slumber, For I spent all me dough on the lassies, don't you know, Far across the western ocean I must wander” 

Tom felt the tips of his fingers tingle with anticipation. A grin covered his whole face.

He brought up the flint and steel. Excitement was in every fiber of his being. 

A loud click and snap echoed through the house.

Tom was right in front of the porch when the staircase was destroyed and watched as fire spread through the first floor. 

The flames licked at his sides, stray embers making their way in the open air. He could see ash starting to fall on his suit. Thrill overtook him as he stood before his creation, right on the line of safe and danger. 

He felt exhilaration and happiness overflowing in his face and he had to giggle. Captain Captain must be so impressed--Tom was! And then the giggles turned into laughter, feeling heat on his cheeks.

The fire twisted, popping and crackling and then Tom couldn't tell what was louder--the fire or his cackling? 

Tom was free, he was powerful, he had the confidence of a god, he was uncontainable. No rules, no consequences, no worries. And he raised his arms, flint and steel in either hand, letting the fire warm him, laughing with pure happiness. 

Captain Captain watched the fire eat the building alive, Tom laughing like a madman before it, near catching fire. He was just asking to be caught.  Normally the explosive and fire would've brought a smile to his face, but he wasn't waiting for that. 

"'And it's all for me grog, me jolly, jolly grog', we sing, 'All for me beer and tobacco,’ Well I spent all me tin on the lads n lassies drinking gin, Across the tempting ocean I must wander, they sang as we sail."

Nothing could make this better, Tom thought, except burning another building--Better Jordan! Tom scanned the area looking for Captain Captain, he said he was going to be watching--or was he getting TNT. Instead when he turned to his left, towards the square, and saw Tucker running up to him. He looked tired--not that he didn't before--and scared. Served him right.

"What took you so long--" Tom was cut off when he felt his breath escape him, his throat caving in painfully and he was on his back, a knee pressing hard into his solar plexus.

Captain Captain felt a tug at the corners of his lips. ‘Blow a man down, bring a spring upon her cable. Aye, no men run a shot across the bow, at me face, I sail, I sail, wander I must I sail.’

Tom floundered underneath Honey Badger, desperate for air. What the hell was she doing! She pressed her knee deeper into his stomach, trapping him. His chest seized from the pain, he could feel the ghost of his heart hammering a hole to escape it in his chest. Undead--more like he wished he was, Dianite take pity.

The pirate leaning on the railing of the terrace smiled, watching Tom choke, his eyes begging for air--his precious breaths being taken from the flames and the Honey Badger above him.

Said Honey Badger locked eyes with the Captain. He grinned. Then the farmer's alternate caught his gaze. Captain Captain's eyebrows furrowed and his chin tilted up further looking down upon him, before he broke out another smirk, looking right back. 

"My name is Captain Captain, my God's laws I did forsake, Upon my name a curse I take, as I sailed, as I sailed."

He shook his head and turned the corner of the terrace and dropped back into the alleyway, out of sight.

Tom flailed desperately, his eyes catching sight of the dagger he stole from Captain Captain. Where was Capt?

A squeak escaped him when Honey increased her pressure.

"Get off me lady!" Tom kicked the air helplessly, "I didn't do nothing! What the fuck have I ever done to you! I ain't done shit! Let me go! Captain will come back and make you pay! I'll burn every fucking house down to the ground, then you'll regret this! I'll kill you!"

Tom screeched with all the breath he had, listening to Tucker's weak defenses for him. 

Tom felt air flood back into his lungs and for a second he wondered how Tucker had done it. He rolled to his stomach to get up, until he felt a sharp yank, his hair feeling as though it was being ripped free, and with a sudden painful impact he saw blood on the cobblestone. His mouth had that funny copper taste to it and he knew it was his blood. Tom lay stunned. Who the fuck did she think she was?

He tried to escape again, ready to fight till death and after--and then he found himself digging into the ground completely. His fingers clawed at any free dirt as a her knee dug into his kidneys. She ruined everything!  His thoughts and fight were getting dimmer, his chest was heaving now, his eyes brimming with unwelcome tears and his jaw aching against the cobblestone. 

"I'm taking him in."

Tom cursed her out left and right, demanding he be released. They couldn't throw him in jail for this!

"...Griefing was against the law in our dimension as well, I’m sure there’s some sort of explanation that would…" He heard Tucker continue to fail to bring his freedom. What happened to the trials? The oh so fair trials he could escape and make a run for it?

"How many times will you have to defend the actions of your friend, preemptively or in response to his misdeeds, before you take a critical eye to his moral character."

Tom growled, searching his face wildly from its place pressed into the ground, threatening as much as he could for help. Tucker you better think of something or so help me Dianite--

"I’ve known him long enough to make my judgements.” Tucker argued. "You aren’t the only Mianite champion around anymore.”

“Reconsider that statement.” 

Tom could feel the poison in her words, the cold threat freezing his core. For a moment Tom wondered if they were going to fight--not that Tucker stood a chance, but Tom could use the opportunity to bolt.

Captain Captain listened with contempt as Tom got dragged away to the town's jail, his back against the building on a ledge opposite of the porch, strong words and spit flying left and right out of the zombie's ugly yap.

Captain Captain's song layered over Tom's pathetic cries like waves.

"And being cruel still my gunner I did kill, I was sick and nigh to death, as I sailed."

"Let go of me! Tucker!"

"And his precious blood did spill, as I sailed, as I sailed." 

"Tucker, help me! She can't fucking take me to jail! Tucker? Tucker, you bitch, help get her off of me!"

"I was sick and nigh to death and I vowed with every breath."

"Tucker! Sonja? Wag..? Someone, help me! Captain Captain?"

"To walk in wisdom's ways when I sailed, when I sailed."

"Help me!"

….

A light breeze swept over Ihatchu, golden wheat fluttering lightly under the early morning sun. 

It was...quiet. Peaceful, one might say. Tranquil, even. The crows certainly thought so.

A murder of crows perched themselves carefully on fences, not a worry on any of their minds despite their food sources starting to become more moribund. 

Speaking of crow-like meals in Ihatchu...

A rather dead-eyed crow watched as someone stumbled onto the cobblestone path that connected the town jail to the city square. It fluttered its wings and sprung forward a little, bouncing. 

It cawed, head tilted to the side, eyes trained on the person as they scrambled off of the ground in a haste, crying out an ugly noise as it held its hand close to its chest. 

In a quick misstep and tumble, the thing fell to the ground. The crow decided it looked oddly like a monster--not ones that limp at night but the ones they've seen. The ones that lay still and rot beneath the plains.

Yet this one was moving, and moving quickly too. The crow was able to recognize its movements and watched the man collect himself and stand again. 

No one had rescued Tom that night. 

...

"Tucker, Sonja, Wag--Tucker! Tucker get the fuck back here! Tell this bitch to let me go! Tucker!"

Tom squeaked as Honey twisted his arm further behind his back. Any further and she'd pop his arm off. He could see the jail right ahead of them.

"Be quiet."

...

The crow was very surprised when it saw no one following after. The monster was looking behind itself though, the man's red pupils constricting from the sudden light and pure fear, walking as fast as it could away from the jail it had been dumped from. It had been let go...and was still running too. How odd.

...

Tom tried his best to turn his head, Honey's hold on him leaving no room for movement.

She wasn't actually going to jail him. No one was stupid enough to try and contain him. He started thrashing his legs when it finally occurred to him that they weren't stopping, hoping he could find an escape. Her grip was making his arm go numb, stinging pins and needles were being pulled and twisted into a painful flare of fire that spread through his whole arm.

"Sonja! Drag Tucker's ass back here! Sonja--Sonja, I know you can hear me! Sonja!" Tom couldn't see anyone, but one of them had to be nearby. 

...

The sun was barely touching the horizon when Tom had been dragged from his sniveling heap in the jail cell and thrown onto the ground outside. Honey gave him a tired look, and said, “Go on then--step out of line again and it’ll be your wrist I’ll break.”

Tom went as fast as his legs could carry him--running proved to be difficult when he kept turning to look over his shoulder and his legs shook. 

That bitch is insane! They never had such punishments in Mianite--yeah the gods could smite you or your stuff could be stolen but they never broke hands in retaliation. He held his hand tenderly to his chest.

...

"Stop moving."

Honey's iron grip only got stronger as they entered and Tom's shriek could've shattered the jail's windows.

"Sonja! What the fuck--Wag! Can one of you--Waglington! Let go of me! You can't--"

"You're going to get yourself more injured."

Tom could feel his arms start to twitch, tensing and freezing in panic. Honey's tone had made the warning a threat and left no room for argument. What is she going to do to him?

....

Tom's frantic feet had brought him inside a random house. He clutched his hand, tears started to sting at the corners of his eyes. His fingers were twisted in a horrid way and were starting to swell, tips turning a sickening purple.

All of this because of a stupid house?

...

"Wag!" Tom frooze, stopping his wiggling when they stopped in front of a cell. One of Honey's hands moved to hold his shoulder. She wouldn't. She can't!

The cell was old. Like, really old. Disgustingly so. Tom suddenly wished he was back at the BnB next to Tucker and his snot infested bed. The cell was made of stone bricks. Cold and miserable stone bricks with mold growing in the corners. It was dark. There was only one window and not only did it have bars blocking out a potential escape but it was too high for anyone to look through. 

...

Tom leaned against a wall by the door, head dipping low as he sunk down. His breaths were shallow and ragged. He's fine, he's safe, she's gone, he's safe, she's not coming. He's okay.

It had to be a curse, Tom sniveled, a sick and twisted, inhumane curse to hear a heart that wouldn't ever beat again hammer in his chest and ears. 

...

Tom couldn't stop his panic from rising, breath shallow and ragged from just looking at the cell. Honey was speaking, her voice was stern and as cold as the cell. He couldn't hear anything she was saying over the pressure building in his head. 

She can't do anything to him. A chilly square of stone can't contain him!

No one--no, nothing could stop him! He's broken out of trials before. He's snuck his way into vaults. He took what he wanted and didn't give a fuck what anyone had to say about it. Tom had gone rogue! He started a rebellion! He broke out Steve from a jail! He challenged a king! He didn't give a single ass wipe to anyone who stood in his way! 

For fuck's sake, he burned down a house! He killed a God! He killed Dianite of all the Gods! He killed Dianite--his God.

He killed his God...for his friends. He killed his God for Jordan's...

"--You haven't been listening? Have you? You will be released in the morning--I will not prolong this for either of our sakes. Remember this, Thomas--the law will find you--and you will be punished accordingly.” She took a step towards him, her tall figure and broad shoulders casting an imposing shadow. “I cannot force your interests elsewhere, but I can make you fear the law. Rethink your decisions."

Honey had only moved ever so slightly, when Tom cracked. He didn’t get it? Why was no one jumping in to save him? 

Only one tear had made it to the wooden floor before Tom clawed his hands up to his eyes, fingers and palms trying to stop wet from escaping. He had drifted over his exposed mouth with trembling fingers. Tom can barely think of times when he had wished to be normal more than this moment.

And when an awfully wretched sound found it's way from his pounding, shriveled dead heart to his throat and into the empty air Tom pulled at his hair.

"Jordan!" Tom kicked and floundered with as much energy as fear and anger could give. He hadn't wanted to call for that bastard, but he would as a last resort.

He killed his God. For his friends. He betrayed Him. He failed Him. For his friends. 

Tom rambled aimlessly--he shouted aimlessly over Honey’s shoulder--someone had to be out. His friends wouldn’t just leave him to be jailed. They would come and explain it all and Honey would have to release him. He was just the bad guy--he always did this!

"Jordan! Don't let them take me unfairly! You're an Ianitee--they can't--I didn't--Sparkly-asshole, I'm your friend! You owe me! I--You--I'll burn your house down again! Your house and Jerry's tree and SkeleTom and his house. I'll destroy everything! Jordan! I--He's not more important than--"

Tom's voice cracked at the end when he hit the stone bricks. His hip colliding with the ground and his hand scraping against a jagged edge. Honey’s glare fell upon him.

For this? 

“You shouldn’t keep shouting,” Honey said, “you’re giving me a migraine. Everyone’s asleep.” Tom just stared at her. “They’re not coming.”

“They always do--you can’t do shit to me,” Tom yelled hoarsely. 

Tom squeezed his eyes shut, moving his arm to cover his eyes. He clenched his hand into a fist, numbing the pain of his hand as he forced himself with much effort to hold his breath. Something inside of him--maybe it was anger, fear, pain or trapped air or whatever--wanted to explode, to destroy or set ruin and destruction to.

A dangerous inferno was burning inside of him.

Tom flinched as the cell door slammed shut. He scrambled and limped to the bars, hands clutching them just above his head. Honey was walking away, the sharp clicks of her boots echoing through the empty jail. 

She imprisoned him. She did it.

Tom felt his grip slacken, hands trailing down the bars as his shoulders sank.

His friends...they had to be coming for him...someone, at least one…

Tom's brain fried before one thought had made it through. A light in the dark. Tom's savior, how could he have forgotten? He'd get out of here in no time, he was sure of it. Tom's one and only true friend.

"CAPTAIN CAPTAIN!"

The clicks stopped. For a moment, it felt like everything stopped. Like a standstill was found as time froze. Ihatchu knew silence. Pure silence...almost.

Tom's grip tightened again. He held his breath.

A voice drifted from the hall, the smallest trace of amusement and pity bounced off the walls as reality came crashing down like the second floor of a burning house. 

"How could you be so ignorant?"

...

A deep growl burst out of the flames as Tom stood and unsteadily rushed to a dusty chest. Four chests and one drawer later, Tom found what he was looking for.

With a trembling hand he wrapped the injured one and made a makeshift splint, avoiding looking at it as much as he could. This would have to do. Tom wiped away the wet that had trailed down his face.

...

It was in this moment that Tom's lungs decided he didn't get nearly enough air. His knees trembled before giving out and Tom found himself holding the bars like a lifeline. 

Honey's voice cut through his heaves.

"Unfortunately, I've gotten more than a fair share of time to figure out his erratic behavior. Anyone in this town who's dealt with him would tell you not to bother. And any living soul with a working brain wouldn't try. No one's coming. Especially not him."

...

Tom slammed the door behind him as he stepped back into the morning sun. There was a health potion he needed back at the BnB.

He let his feet find his way back, choosing to ignore the cobblestone paths. His legs had stopped shaking but his hand hadn't. He squinted in the sun. Even in its heat there was something cold and empty inside him. Just like a zombie.

Tom didn't spare a glance behind his shoulder as he rushed back on quick feet. And if he noticed the crow following a ways behind he didn't bother to yell at it.

...

Tom spent an agonizingly long night yelling and cursing until he couldn't stand up anymore. For a while he refused to give up. As far as he was told, not a single living soul had heard him. What a horrible idea to think that at least one had...and hadn't bothered to do anything about it but listen.

After a while that feeling of gut wrenching betrayal solidified into a festering anger. 

He spent the rest of his time in the corner, head on his knees and arms around himself. Honey would come for him sometime in the morning. 

And when she did.

...

Tom reached the door of their lodging and leaned heavily against it. He composed himself best he could. Breathing deep and slow.

...

"Thomas?" Honey had prompted. She had at some point changed clothes. She waited for him to look at her. "You'll be free to go in a moment."

"Finally," Tom muttered. His mood darkened as he stewed and he was about to give her hell. If she opened that door he'd come back with a sword and show her the true fury of a Dianitee. "Bitch," he added.

Honey's hand stilled on the lock, the keys dangling from her fingers. She looked at Tom with tepid eyes. A warning. "Would you like to repeat that?"

"Yeah, I would," Tom stood. "What did this accomplish? Locking me in here is going to make me a saint? You think I'm scared. This will be the only time you put me behind bars," Tom rambled, feeling his courage and anger bubbling. He gripped the bars and drew himself up as much as he could. He stared her down, red pupils blazing. 

"Mayhaps, you're right," Honey allotted. Tom grinned and he lifted a hand outside the bars and flipped her off. 

Her hand caught his wrist and she kept him from pulling it back. She hung the keys back at her waist and then, looking at Tom, grabbed his finger. 

"Lady, let go--" Tom started.

She bent it backwards, her eyes on Tom's he looked at her, confused. He looked at the finger. He felt the faint pain, the warning even his undead body had about bending it. He briefly felt his finger grace his wrist, the obliterating pain made his vision go white. 

Not like the sword cuts and violent deaths muted by the respawn but a pain new and fresh, aching and spreading up his arm. He tried to yank his wrist away, but she held tight. Tom was gritting his teeth. He nearly cursed at her, but held his tongue. 

"Do you think you've learned anything?" 

"Bite me," Tom bared his teeth. His menacing teeth were sharp and crooked. She bared hers back and bent his pointer-finger to the point of pain and waited. She watched Tom's snarl turn into a grimace. He tried to yank his arm away. She hadn't budged. Tom shot his other hand through the bars and tried to grab her hand and pull it away.

She drew his hand further from the bars, causing a burning in Tom's shoulder. He couldn't reach his own hand! He gripped the bar instead. 

"Do you think you've learned anything?" She repeated.

"Fuck you," Tom said through gritted teeth. This time the break was felt in his chest. He seized against the bars, clenching his teeth to avoid hollering in pain.

She had grabbed his thumb and this time when she bent it back Tom couldn't take it. The cold grimy bar burned against his hand as he gripped it, his knuckles went white.

"Do you think you've learned anything?"

Tom didn't answer. She bent his thumb further back. Slowly pushing it towards his wrist. She held it again, hearing Tom hiss. "Yes."

She kept pushing. "What did you learn?"

"Not to break the law--let go, let go--" 

She didn't right away. Tom was tearing at the eyes before she let go of his hand, but not his wrist. She watched him slack against the bars, his remaining fingers curling up and his thumb tucking itself inward to avoid the pain. 

"Mayhaps, you've learned. Next time it'll be your wrist." She let go of his wrist and Tom dragged his hand back into the cell, clutching it to his chest. He curled inward on himself, sagging to his knees and Honey opened the cell, her keys jingling.

"Get out of my sight."

...

Tom opened the door to the BnB, wrapping his good hand and arm around himself and locking the door behind him, listening to the sound of a beating heart that should've been his. 

There was great debate in Ihatchu about the order of corruption on Ianite’s side. Some were convinced that Captain Captain was just like that. They theorized that he had always been a glutton for bloodshed and pain, he was a pirate after all. Those who still clung to their loyalty to the goddess of balance insisted that her fall had been the champion’s doing. He was too wild, untameable, and it had influenced her down a dark path.

Followers of other gods claimed the opposite. They postulated that the idea of balance was inherently flawed when it was trying to level the playing field between two polarized sides that by nature could never give on their ideals. According to them, it was only a matter of time before the goddess began to seek out more permanent fixes via more drastic measures. Captain Captain’s madness was just an inevitable side effect to pledging his soul to an unstable deity.

Others still came together and theorized that Captain Captain really was just like that and so was Ianite. They were a perfect fit.

Regardless of what the truth actually was there was no denying his violent and thrill-seeking tendencies. Over time his success as a pirate and status as champion slowly became less talked about, instead replaced by whisperings of his madness. It was realized that he was too dangerous to crew for, and so pirates stopped lining up to board his vessel.

It wasn’t long before his habit of steering directly into storms and fighting every other ship in sight claimed his last crew member.

He was alone.

It lasted far longer than it should, and if his time in solitude grew his homicidal inkling then no one would have been surprised. He didn’t talk about it much, not that he talked much about anything.

When he was eventually called to found the city of Ihatchu and build a civilization worthy of the gods, Captain Captain had little motivation to actually accomplish anything that would be of benefit to anyone. He kept the balance well enough, but his and Ianite’s idea of it was twisted.

He killed a few too many townsfolk in the name of peace and order.

People started leaving.

Now this wasn’t all due to his direct action but the town had been rightfully scared and so there were many families that had fled, made the pilgrimage across the plains, in order to save themselves from the wickedness of the goddess and her champion. It was frightfully similar to the manner in which pirates had eventually distanced themselves from Captain Captain when he still sailed the ocean. No one wanted to risk it.

For the sake of society and the population at large Honey Badger was forced to step in. It wasn’t necessarily proper to question the activities of someone following their god’s wishes but an unchecked Captain Captain was a deadly Captain Captain. Not to mention the butcher had just ended up on his own meat hooks and quite a few civilians had expressed their displeasure over that.

She struck a deal with him, and it wasn’t easy. But Honey was a force to be reckoned with in her own right and Captain Captain was still a mortal man and so mostly for the sake of himself he agreed to take it easy--spend some time working on more clever and much less deadly pranks.

SkeleTom and Mericho suspected that he stuck to Honey’s rules mostly for one reason only--so that he wouldn’t be left alone. It was the only rationale they could come up with given his obvious disdain for a certain baker in short shorts. All things considered SkeleTom should not still be alive. But, the baker was one of the few people who tolerated him. To get rid of him would be stepping that much closer to solitude.

That reasoning was painfully sentimental.

Regardless of what his motivation really was, he played nice. Occasionally there was a slip up, prompting Honey to voice a stern-

“Clean that up. Streets are to be pristine and polished.”

-but for the most part he resigned himself to pranks and sullen grumbling.