YOU!

“What the hell’s been your issue!? You’ve been nothing but pissy since I’ve healed!” 

“You–I can’t. I fucking–Ugh!”

“You what, Curly? You what? Spit it out, because last time I checked, I can’t read your mind.”

“Don’t get smart with me! You fucking know what you did, you mossheaded hero-complex!”

“Really!? That’s really what this is about? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What? Pissed off I know you think I’m some weak damsel in distress?”

“I think you’re–why in the hell would I think that bullshit?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact you clearly think I need saving!”

“Like hell, I think you of all people need saving, you insufferable prick.”

“Then why else would everyone’s favorite algae-haired hero ‘save’ me? Huh?”

“Oh, my fuck, how goddamn insufferable can you be?”

“Oh, I’m insufferable–!?”

“I wasn’t done, shut the fuck up for two goddamn seconds! Fuck! I wasn’t trying to save you because you’re some weak damsel or whatever the hell you’ve managed to get into that stupid blond head of yours!”

“Then what were you doing, huh? Because I would have been fine!”

“No. No, you wouldn’t have been fine, I barely came out breathing. I’m surprised I did at all. Let me ask you something, Curls. What’s more important to the crew’s survival: A cook, or a swordsman?”

“You–!”

“Me? How about you say it instead of throwing kicks, dumbass!”

“How dare you call me insufferable, you asshole! You take my place, expecting to not come back out and have the gall to call me the stupid one!”

“Last time I checked, a cook is a bit more important than a swordsman. Swords can’t feed people, Curlybrow!”

“Really? How dare you try and sacrifice your promise for me!”

“Oh, so now you’re angry at me for being ready to die for the crew? Make up your damn mind.”

“I’m mad you have the audacity to be willing to give your life for me! What about your promise, huh!?”

“What the hell else was I supposed to do? Let you get yourself killed!? Your leg was broken, dumbass!”

“So, your solution was to take my place in a fight you didn’t think you would win?”

“I’m the first mate. It’s my job. I was protecting my crew. Did you forget that? You of all people know I would rather die than fail.”

“Again, so you run headfirst into perceived death!? No one on this crew is expendable!”

“And that goes for you, you curly-browed bastard! I don’t give a shit whatever fucking inferiority complex you have bouncing around your stupid blond skull; you are our cook. You are one of THE most important people on this crew, and I’d die if it meant protecting this crew and doing my job as the first mate. And you want to know what that job is? Protecting the most important members of this crew.”

“How would the first mate protect his crew dead, you fucking moss-brained idiot! Huh? What would you do then!”

“I know you would take my place.”

“What?”

“Ugh, I didn’t want to have to get into this… Just forget it. I didn’t mean to say that shit. This argument’s over. Go cook.”

“No. No, it’s not. You don’t get to say you know I’d take your place and then just… back out of the conversation. That’s not how that works. Now be a man and look me in the face. You really believe that?”

“Fuck. Yes, Curls. I know you would. There’s not one other person on this ship I trust more than you to do so. I can’t believe I’m saying this sappy shit out loud, but you’re nothing but my equal. If or when I’m gone, you’re the one I know is going to take my place. The only one I know able to.”

“Nevermind. I don’t want the feelings-y talk. On second thought, I was not prepared. Fuck.”

“Nope, you dug your grave, and now you’re going to lay in it, you bastard. You’re my equal and I want no one else but you to stand in my place.”

“Mhm. That’s great. Wonderful even. Have I told you how much I hate you?”

“Many a time, but you still trust me with your life, now, don’t you?”

“I do not enjoy when you’re right, Mossy. Not at all.”

“Classy way to agree with me.”

“Oh, as if a walking Marimo ball deserves my class.”

“Mhmmm. I’ll remember that the next time you drag me out shopping. Maybe it’d pay to carry some shit yourself for once.”

“Like you’d ever force me to do that. Every chance in the world, and guess who kindly carries everything for me like the loyal packmule he is. Even if he does complain a bit much for my liking.”

“Only because your weak ass arms would collapse and I’m not listening to you complain the entire fucking time that the bags are toooo heavyyyy.”

“Sure, we’ll go with that, Marimo.”

“Are you telling me you can carry more than a few perfumes at a time?”

“I’m calling you out on your bullshit, is what I’m doing.”

“You’re avoiding the question, is what you’re doing.”

“Fine, then, you wanna bet?”

“You carry half the normal load without complaining like a child and I’ll pack mule for you the next three times without issue. You give up or complain, I get a week's worth of alcohol for free.”

“Oh, you’re on, Mosshead.”

“Sure, we are. Don’t you have lunch to be cooking, though? I think you’d prefer to get a head start before capt’n starts whining.”

“Awe don’t sound like you’re trying to shoo me away, Mossy. I thought you wanted to talk?”

“Don’t. I only wanted you to stop being a bitch. I was not looking to spend any more time with you than I have to, never mind our fucking bonding moment. Fuck off, won’t you?”

“Oh, you wound me!”

“Oi! You forget you were our cook already?”

“Fiiine, be that way. Remember our bet, Mossy! I look forward to your silence!”

“Sure, we’ll go with that. I’ll be waiting for my booze!”