[9.1] Streetlight Manifesto: Infinity Dark

[BlacKnightZero]

Emilia's imminent meltdown was concerning, but Grant had to focus on the mission first and foremost. If the cooks picked up those plates, they ran the risk of undoing the illusions put on the food, and they'd immediately notice something was up. He couldn't stop them from bringing out the food, so he had to come up with a more roundabout way of dealing with this.

Looking over at his teammates, he came up with an idea. Grant used his ability to disguise Adeline as a buff man wearing a chef's outfit. "Adeline, I need you to deliver the dishes to their tables." He said quietly, trying not to attract any unwanted attention. "If the cooks undo my ability, then it's all over. I'm counting on you for this." He tried to make his explanation brief so as to not waste any time. It was a risky plan, the cooks might realize Adeline isn't one of them if they got a good look at this disguise, so they had to move quickly.

[killeroftheminge]

Wait, what?! THAT was his plan?? Ade feels a pit in her stomach as Grant dresses her up, shakily standing to grab at the plates before the other chefs can take them.

"N-not so fast boys! I got this, you punks just get to work on seconds and thirds! I've been tasked with serving, something about keeping them at ease and, uh...and shit."

Ade swears inwardly, cursing Grant for this. What the hell?! What if they wanted to ask her questions, or...or arm wrestle?! If they laid a hand on her, it'd drop the facade!

[dad]

Michelle must have had the situational awareness of a frog at best, considering that she had lost track of the people she was tailing like twice now. She kept walking around the shipping, easily able to dodge incoming guard patrols due to her Stand. She soon realized that she was wasting her time, so she started heading back the way she came instead. Thankfully, she was not as empty headed as people might think, since she left a slimy trail of Gipsy Kings behind her to help her find the way back to the dining hall. However, just when she was pondering on whether to steal some food once the mission was over, trouble finally arose. The dining hall doors were closed, wrapped by a thick net of...hair? At first, Michelle thought that they were merely black ropes, but upon closer inspection, it was clearly hair.

It wasn't every day that a section of the ship was locked behind hair, but that wouldn't stop Michelle. If she tried analyzing the bindings by touching them, she would clearly feel the hair pulsate a bit, like a beating heart. The thing felt alive! Well, hair belonged to live people anyways....usually, at least. This was clearly the effect of a Stand, even Michelle could figure that out. However, where was the user in that case?

CRASH!

Michelle's head rose in high alert as she saw part of a wall crash. Something was emerging from within the dining hall and it seemed as if it had no time for locked doors. She wondered if it was the Stand user as Gipsy Kings readied itself to fight....only for a midget to fly out of the hole. Michelle would laugh, had she not recognized the person in question: It was Corey, one of the other bodyguards Greggs had hired. Michelle didn't know much about them, but they were on the same team, right? God forbid they get another traitor like that shithead Marty...

The midget was more agile than she had thought, perching on top of the dining hall section of the ship as he was seemingly scouting the entirety of the cruise. Recon work. One of the few things Michelle excelled at. Gipsy Kings was quite the resilient swarm, able to cover several distances at once when it split up. She could possibly assist Corey with her Stand.

However, that was easier said than done.

Corey view didn't do him much justice. He saw several things for sure, such as Joan, Jack and a mysterious new woman with a pizza box in hand lingering around the other side of the ship. Could the pizza girl be the Stand user? No, that'd be too convenient. Plus, they would probably be dead by now with Joan around. However, he did notice the dire state of the dining hall itself. It had been completely locked out by gigantic ropes of hair, the powerless non Stand users being trapped inside since the doors were tight shut. He couldn't underestimate those black tendrils, considering that they were presumably enough to hold back an entire army of rich socialites.

Corey then noticed Michelle below and wondered why the girl was still around here, considering that they had planned on stalking Jack and Joan in the first place. Were they lost? They were probably lost. Corey wouldn't really like the idea of being a babysitter, but he would have no choice, especially once he noticed that two new tendrils were appearing from the shadows, using their black color as a camouflage. They swiftly approached Michelle and wrapped themselves around her arms and legs, restraining her movement as they lifted her up rather effortlessly. Girl was in trouble, but the source was most important to Corey. These tendrils weren't coming from the dining hall, they were coming from a completely different area, though Corey had yet to pinpoint where exactly. Of course, he couldn't let Michelle be in danger in order to find out the enemy's position. That wouldn't be justice.

Michelle herself would be surprised at the enemy she was dealing with. She was physically outmatched by two gigantic strands of hair, either a sign that she should really start working out or a clear allusion at the fact that these tendrils were probably Stand enhanced. In that case, what better way to fight a Stand than a Stand itself? Gipsy Kings might not be strong, but squeezing itself out of tight situations was exactly what it was made for.

---

Jack and Joan kept interrogating their new acquaintance, but they were most likely harmless. A nurse, a con artist and a pizza delivery girl walked to a bar...or a cruise, in this case. The punchline? They were all completely lost. They had no idea on where to go, besides keep shuffling around the ship and hope for a sudden boon from the Gods, such as a sign pointing them back to the dining hall. Of course, life wouldn't work that way. Instead, the only warning they would get was a scream.

"AAAAAAAAAH!!!"

A male voice, a rather familiar one. To Jack and Joan, at least. The trio turned around, only to see Greggs being forcefully pulled near the edges of the ship before disappearing in the shadows. Something had caught their boss. Was this the user Joan was talking about? It was definitely a matter worth investigating, but unfortunately it would have to wait.

"Well well, look who we found here..." A bunch of buff and burly men walked up to the group, pipes and harpoons in hands as their boisterous muscles clearly revealed that they were part of Merry's men. "Lord Merry The Third did warn us that there were a few rats slinking around this ship. You were surprisingly easy to find..." One of them mocked the trio before charging straight at them! He was fast! He was vicious! He was aiming for-- Axelle?!

"Oh, thanks for the pizza. We were waiting quite a bit for them." They said, dropping their harpoon as they snatched the pizzas out of Axelle's hand and gave her ten bucks. "Here's your tip." They said, about to give away five extra, before looking at their watch.

"Oh. Never mind. You're past the 29 minute guarantee. Sorry, love, but no tip for you today. Do better next time." They said, giving Axelle a regretful look before looking back to the other men. "Alright! You can kill them all now!" They shouted.

The man nodded, proceeding to fire their harpoons at the crew before charging at them with pipes in hands. Clearly, they were planning on clobbering them all to death. 

---

The head chef seemed rather confused once Adeline emerged and started snatching the plates away. "No, it's fine, I can han--" They were about to say, before being interrupted by the lord himself.

"Loqueesha, you're goddamn late!" Merry screamed at the disguised Adeline. Apparently, Grant was a better writer than she had given him credit for. After all, his disguise was so realistic that Merry had legitimately confused her for one of his own men. "You lazy sack of shit. Get those plates served, now! I've been planning this for months, so I'll be damned if I have one of you lowly scum ruin it for me, capiche? Get yourself going now, ya filthy animal!" 

It was incredibly hard for Adeline to not just pummel Merry in that instant. Not only were his insults absolutely degrading, but what sort of name was Loqueesha?! She couldn't dwell on it too long, however, as she grabbed the plates and left the kitchen with Grant and Emilia in tow. It was all good, until...

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"

Wailing akin to that of a dying whale or a loud banshee could be heard. Adeline wondered if she had returned to the fucking slums, before she realized the source of the noise: Emilia, that annoying bitch. She was crying, CRYING! In the middle of such an important situation! Why?!

"GRANT BENNETT IS DEAD!!! HE IS DEAD AND WE FUCKING KILLED HIM!!! GOD WHY?!?!" She kept ranting like a child. "I knew his articles deserved much more praise and fame. We ignored him and let him out...And look what happened! He abandoned his promising journalism career in order to pursue something that even less people will give a shit about! Nobody will read his stories! They'll just be like "Grant who? Bennett what?"." She sniffled, Grant wondering where this line of thought was even coming from.

"Mr. Bennett! Please return to writing articles! Please!" She pleaded Grant with puppy eyes as she grabbed him by the collar with her midget strength. "Writing novels will just lead you to a grim path of self-reflection and depression as all of your manuscripts get rejected, until you eventually have to take your own life. Because you would rather end your pointless existence instead of paying your house's rent through money obtained from loan sharks. Your works will be posthumously praised, but you won't be alive to make bank out of that success. It is the destiny of every writer worth their salt, and you aren't salt, Grant! You're sugar!" 

Grant legitimately couldn't understand what Emilia was saying anymore. Was she right? Was she wrong? He didn't care. All he knew was that he wanted her to SHUT UP.

Adeline would agree, but her hands were currently occupied, otherwise she would have most likely socked Emilia in the face and knocked her out cold.

"Huh? What's that weird ranting? Sounds like a dying puppy..." Merry muttered, the cooks nodding as they all got closer to 'Loqueesha' in an effort to see what was going on. This was bad. Emilia was certainly a midget, but not even she could escape the sights of so many eyes at once. Grant could most likely turn them all invisible, but the journalist's loud shrieks would most likely give them away. So much for getting away scot free...

[siegwardofcatarina]

Joan didn't relent her death glare at the poor pizza girl. Joan still wasn't entirely convinced of her innocence. But before anything could happened, there was a sudden shout as Greggs was being dragged through the halls of the ship and a bunch of Merry's goons showed up. Although the goon was briefly distracted by the delivery of pizza.

"Let's go." Joan said to Jack before grabbing him by the collar and running after Greggs as the goon was getting his pizza.

[PSIchotic]

Corey stayed there, suspended in midair for a few more moments. He’d lost track of Greggs and his captor, but it seemed he wasn’t alone anymore. The giant from earlier seemed to be calling out to him.

Of course, Corey remained mute as ever. It didn’t seem like anything would get him to communicate, which begged the question as to why? Why was he mute? Alex didn’t have much time to think about it as Corey’s head jerked towards him, the speed at which it turned and the abrupt way it stopped making it look like he broke his damn neck. Then the dwarf began to get...bigger? No, closer!

Corey was shooting towards Alex, but there was no malice in his eyes. Maybe the midget was aiming near him? If Alex remained still, he’d discover that was the case, as Corey shot straight past him, rolling into a sprint. He didn’t lose a shred of momentum in his landing, and the only proper response Alex received was a wave of the hand for him to follow.

Corey had spied Michelle from his aerial vantage, and he saw as she was attacked. Pathetic. Corey’s face twisted into a frown. Striking from the shadows like a coward, and attempting to take a hostage. Corey made a mental note to take a couple minutes longer when beating Merry to death.

Corey looked to Alex, wasting no time as he pointed to him, then Michelle. It seems the midget wanted him to help free her from the tendrils. He didn’t want to use his stand quite yet. Revealing that he had such a powerhouse wasn’t the wisest decision, but the enemy wouldn’t know what to make of Hamon. Corey leapt up, latching on to the two tendrils, just prior to where they grabbed Michelle.

To Michelle and Alex, a beautiful sight was about to unfold.

It began as a slight whistle, a low tone of air shooting through a tight opening. Then, something more divine. Like the hum of an instrument, but not one they had ever heard before. The potted plants in the area bloomed, and Corey’s body began to give off a faint golden aura that was growing by the second. Purple thorns began to snake themselves around Corey’s body, but they didn’t seem to be like the tendrils restraining Michelle. They were completely benign, not doing anything to Corey. And then it happened. The hum turned into an overpowering sound, a high pitched tone like that of a tuning fork. It was incredibly loud, but not at all overbearing or painful as loud noises typically are. The low whistle became a shout, the thorns doubled in thickness, and a crackling like an electrical current rang out. Sparks danced across the Corey’s body, then to the thorns, and finally, into the hair. Michelle was close enough to Corey to feel the overwhelming heat radiating off of him. It was as if he was on fire, and the hair tightly gripped in his fists began to change color, taking on a brighter tone as if it was getting sunbleached. Michelle herself would get a blast of energy conducted through the hair, as if she had just woken up from a good rest, or accomplished something great.

If this was Corey’s plan, why did he tell Alex to help? The answer became evident rather quickly, as the hair was not breaking. It was simply getting weaker and weaker, assuming Corey’s trick worked. He just needed Alex to free her, or for her to free herself, while he pumped enough energy into the hair to give whoever was at the source sunstroke.

[Al Freakster the Big Cheese]

Alex didn't need to wait long for Corey's response. The response being blasting off right past him and waving to follow the bullet midget, all without a shred of sound uttered from his mouth. Somewhat flabbergasted at such an off-handed way of acknowledging him, nevertheless, the giant in tattered clothes sprinted after Corey. The sight of a girl, Michelle, as his mind helpfully reminded, bound by two giant strands of hair was what greeted him and the speedy shortie. Who had instantly gave him the silent order to help free her. 

"With what, my arms? She's wrapped thick, I might be strong, but not that much!" Alex tried to convey the message with his expression to Corey, but he was a bit too late. The short-statured man grabbed at the tendrils and, in all of a sudden, lit up. Nay, not the man. The room itself, as plants suddenly burst into bloom, and the tendril-hair changed color, and the logical-defying sound filled the area, and the giant couldn't help but bask in it, as if it was something of divine, something that should be cherished and worshipped. And deep within Alex's mind, where the starry void laid, something started to stir.

With vigour that he didn't have earlier, the colossus rushed to tear away the hair, with all of his might. If one looked closely at the skin of his arms, they might have seen a very muted, almost invisible sheen of black cover them as the giant wrestled Michelle out of her unnatural entrapment.

[RaptorAttacks]

Axelle watched in stunned silence as the events around her transpired. There was a screaming man being dragged about behind her, then they were apprehended by some of the largest, bulkiest men she had ever seen in her life. They were almost certainly doping. Taking shortcuts to fitness like that really wasn't respectable, and the pizza girl could only imagine the horrific acne they had on their bodies. It was probably greasier than the pizza, really. Fortunately, these roided-up bruisers were the people who had ordered the pizzas. Axelle wiped the sweat off of her brow as the fine cuisine of Joe's Pizza was handed off, and waited in silent glee to receive payment for her delivery. That is until the tip. Or rather, the lack of it.

Had her watch been slow the whole time? Did those suits really spend that long interrogating her? That cursed 29 minute guarantee had robbed her once again! Axelle could already hear her boss's complaints ringing in her mind. "Joe's 29-minute guarantee is a promise, woman!" this, and "Axelle, you're a nice girl, you're just not dependable." that. She took a glance at her watch in a vain attempt to prove the hulking brick of a man wrong, but it only confirmed the truth. Plummeting into a pit of despair, the deliverywoman fell to her knees.

Fortunately, her absolute grief was conveniently timed, as she felt something fly over the top of her head and bury itself into the wall behind her. Wait a minute? Harpoons? Holy heck, these guys are trying to MURDER me! Why does everyone I meet on this dumb boat have it out for me! Gosh darn it! As the thugs began their approach, Axelle stood up, her fist clenched as she stared down the man who denied her the five dollars she desired. She inhaled sharply, taking a step back as she sized up her foe. The brute was certainly tall and muscular, though he had made the foolish mistake of distracting himself with the pizza pie. A blow to the head would stagger him for just long enough. As she exhaled, her fist begin to emit a violent spark of yellow electricity - the art of Hamon. Her teacher had told her only to use the power for the greater good, but really, Axelle WAS the greater good. Well, a greater good than this stingy goon, anyhow. Now all she needed was something cool and witty to say when she hit him.

"Pizza time!" Axelle yelled, slamming her fist into the chin of the man. As she did so, November Rain appeared by her side, lashing out a vine to grab the five dollars. She considered taking more of the man's money, but when she remembered the other goons that were swiftly approaching her, she swiftly changed her mind. With its free hand, November Rain detached a few bramble-like tendrils from it's body, scattering them on the floor in front of her in an attempt to dissuade Merry's thugs from giving chase. "H-hey! Suit people! Wait for me, you jerks!" The deliverywoman cried out, frantically sprinting after Joan and Jack with her hard-earnt fifteen dollars. 

[killeroftheminge]

Shiiiiiit, this chick is more trouble than she was worth! Ade bites her lip, racking her brain on what to do. Grant could make them invisible, but that's not gonna stop this dumb girl's squealing...wait!

Blocking the doorway for a second, she swings her foot around to kick both Grant and the new girl; while the oncoming blow could terrify both, they weren't in any real danger. Lady Marmalade's hands grabbed both by the shoulders, pulling the poet and his biggest fan into the wall behind them as Ade stubs her toe in the space left behind.

"YOWCH! S-sorry Mr. Merry, i uh...i thought I saw one of them rats again, but i ended up stubbin' my toe. Bad call, y'know, hehehe..." It was pretty painful having to treat Merry as a boss (and she'd be sure to pay him back for that Loqueesha bullshit), but this could cover their tracks for a moment. The only problem was keeping them both in the color of the wall; she has to stay near it for her power to remain active. She would have to hope that Merry and the chefs turn away so all three could book it. It was bad enough keeping those pastas in there, 2 human beings was only adding on the pressure.

[MoeSenpai]

"HEY! WHO'S DOING THIS! LET GO OF ME YOU PIECE OF..." Michelle tried to wiggle herself free but to no avail. These were not ordinary hairs... if this wasn't obvious already. This was an attack by somebody. What Michelle wanted to know however was if this was an attack meant for her or if she just happened to be in the cross fire. "Nice trick you got there... Is this your stand? Looks really pretty." The girl said to Corey, not in the slightest bothered at what was happening to her right now. She was only pissed, not scared. This was basically just like a mosquito flying around her. "So are you like the pied piper or some- Hey!" The foreigner whose name she forgot suddenly began to pull on the hair and scared her Gipsy Kings who were working on freeing Michelle right now.

"Hey, stop that. I got it, no worries. Just a moment... aaaaaand here I go." And with that Michelle simply slipped through the air and landed safely on her two feet. The moment she landed on the ground however she began to hastily look around. "So, who is the fuckface that did that to me? Looks to me like he wants to meet him. I'll gladly introduce myself. And my fucking fist."

[Sakurai]

"Agreed luv lets get the ell out of here." Jack shouted as he sprinted after greggs with Joan this definitely wasn't the first time he had sprinted. It was hard on his lungs and he would probably be a little out of breath when he caught up but he would make it, back home in london he had at one point had to outrun a truck that was trying to run him down when he was younger so he was fairly confident he could make it.

[BlacKnightZero]

Emilia was obviously not taking Grant's career change very well. Ignoring the fact that she didn't respect his decision at all, Grant had to get her to quiet down before she completely blew their cover. Adeline got them out of sight with her Stand, but that didn't keep Emilia from crying her lungs out.

"Please stop crying for a moment!" Grant grabbed the girl by the shoulders to get her attention. "I'm sorry Emilia, but writing a novel is my dream. I can't give that up, but... If it means that much to you, I'll write one more article for the paper after we're done here. Is that alright?" Grant made a promise to reassure her, and try to get her to calm down. Putting aside all those horrible things she said about being an author, his writing clearly meant a lot to Emilia, so he felt as if he owed her this at least.

[dad]

The hair dried up like seaweed, crumpling into dust between Alex's blows. Perhaps he had overdid it or perhaps the 'hair' was a bit less like its namesake than he had thought. Maybe it was a Stand that resembled hair? Or a mixture of Stand energy and hair? Who could say. Either way, Michelle was now safe and the tendrils were nothing more than lone strands of hair at the bottom of the group's feet. They were in the clear...for now. The dining hall was still in a pickle, the doors now locked by several tendrils that had wrapped themselves around the numerous entrances and exits. Of course, with the combined might of Corey's Hamon and Alex's above average strength, it didn't seem like such an imposing blockade anymore.

Of course, things would soon change.

The tendrils swiftly retreated, as if they feared the trio that was now in front of them. The doors were unlocked, making the group think that the villain behind this hairy dilemma had realized that they were outmatched and decided to spare them the boredom of shredding hair for several minutes. Oh, if only things were that simple. The moment the doors were unlocked, the trio could not help but gasp in shock. The guests, the bodyguards...all dead. They all lied immobile in a large pile of blood, looking drained and emaciated. It was as if a vampire had sneaked in and drained them completely. Strange. Very strange. The dining hall had suddenly turned into a crime scene. A scene lacking a culprit that was possibly long gone. However, the tracks were still fresh. Perhaps the three could figure out what had happened inside when Corey and Alex had left...

---

Axelle, Jack and Joan tried their best to avoid danger, slinking away to wherever Greggs had gone off to while being tailed by a bunch of angry, burly men.

"You fucking skank! I'll shove this pizza up your ass!" A worker with a stuffy nose growled, presumably the one Axelle had jabbed. Overall, the situation looked rather grim: Greggs was nowhere to be found. The trail had seemingly gone cold and the workers obviously knew the layout of the ship better than a drunk, a (mediocre) con artist and a pizza delivery girl. They didn't realize it at first, but they were slowly being driven into a corner. Eventually, the three were forced into a dead end at the corner of the ship, nothing in front of them besides the railing and the tempestuous waves ahead. They could hear the snickering of guards behind them, clearly proof that they had calculated this maneuver. Those assholes were a lot brighter than they had thought.

"Looks like it's over for you punks." One of them proclaimed. "Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Give yourself in and we'll make sure you're unharmed during your stay here. Resist, however..." They pointed their harpoons at them. "...and we won't be able to guarantee that."

Obviously, the 'easy' way out was actually the worst outcome. No doubt the guards would take the three back to Merry and let him do his mind control work on them. No thank you. The only solution was to fight their way out, but considering how buffed the workers were thanks to Merry's Stand, it seemed easier said than done...

THUMP!

Just as the situation seemed hopeless, an uneasy chill filled the air. The change of direction in the wind was blatant. Even the guards letting themselves get distracted a bit as they turned behind them. A black figure stood several feet away from the two groups. Their form changed with each passing second, resembling an individual in black armor that constantly changed shape and form every few seconds, as if their armor pieces were malleable noodles or tendrils. Despite this amount of flexibility, their entire body was still properly covered and protected, hiding both their body and their identity. The mysterious figure cackled, one of their tendrils branching out as it snapped itself from the suit of armor and revealed its true form. Something akin to a giant strand of hair. A whip of some sorts. It got twirled around as its owner slowly stepped forward, even the sound of their footsteps being muffled by their strange armor. It was clear that they were wearing some sort of fur, something that dampened their noise. That explained how they suddenly popped up behind two parties.

"Sorry to interrupt your little party, ya good for nothing scumbags." They said, the masculine voice of a confident (and arrogant) man giving away a teeny bit of their identity. "The name's Chuck. Pretty simple, like me. I like simple things, but that doesn't make me boring, ya know?" He said before abruptly whipping the floor next to his feet, effortlessly chewing through the wood that was part of the floor.

"If you start spoutin' some boring shit, I'll chop you down immediately!" Chuck glared at both groups. "But first things first. Give me your hair. All of it." He pointed. "That's right, your fucking hair. Tear it off or ask me to do it, I don't care. Just give me it!" He threatened, waving his whip quite menacingly.

"....Huh? Who the hell let this idiot on board? Well, whatever. Get him, boys!" The workers cried out, now aiming their harpoons at the new threat before proceeding to fire. Their opponent merely smirked underneath their helm.

"Good, good. So you want me to get it off for you! That's just what I like, really. Thanks for making life easier for me, phew!" Chuck exclaimed, letting the harpoons approach him as his tendrils started wrapping themselves around the projectiles. The group knew not what they were made of, but they were seemingly enough to not only stop the harpoons, but to also do something much, much worse.

"Trying to make me some sort of porcupine ain't gonna cut it, I'm afraid. Then again, expecting anything but mediocrity from your loons is just plain old foolishness!" Chuck laughed, propelling himself at Merry's men with surprising speed while his tendrils still held the harpoons. What happened next was rather swift: The tendrils all struck in unison, Chuck's moves resembling that of an octopus as his hairy appendages stabbed all of the men with their own projectile. Of course, a mere harpoon would not be enough to bring down a bunch of Stand roided men, or so the group thought...

"W-What the...Sucked like a...straw.." One of the workers could barely mutter before they collapsed on the floor, their body dried out and emaciated. Several others fell in the same way, having been completely drained in a matter of seconds. 

"Woo-hoo!" Chuck laughed, his armor now being a vivid red as his tendrils flapped around excitedly. "Being drenched in blood is what it means to be alive, doesn't it? I mean, blood is what makes us tick after all. That and hair." He stated, slowly ripping off the hairs from the corpses scalps. While it was still unknown on how Chuck had managed to drain the blood from Merry's men in such a short time frame, the trio would at least be grateful that he had displayed some of his skills before actually confronting them. He was a Stand user, that much was clear. What was also clear was the fact that he was a threat at close ranges, especially with the nature of the blood drain being still hidden. Their armor and tendrils were also extremely peculiar. They resembled hair, but did they have the same properties as hair? The foe in front of them was mostly carried by their secrets alone.

"...Ya could have at least laughed at that one a bit. My jokes are funny, ya know? Simple, but funny. That's what me mom used to say." Chuck complained, his previous statement having apparently been a joke. "Well, whatever. I don't need hair to laugh anyways. Hair is hair, after all. It's not supposed to talk. It's just supposed to look pretty. Therefore, give me your pretty hair! Especially you, ladies. Men have no sense of style and grace, 'cept for me of course." He said while pointing at Joan and Axelle with one of his tendrils.

"So, will you tear off the hair or do you want me to do it for you?"

The group was in a pickle yet again. They were still trapped in a corner with a far more threatening foe ahead of them than a bunch of Merry's goons. At the very least, they had superiority in numbers, but for how long could they keep this up? There was no point in fighting a foe that they had yet to understand. Perhaps they should attempt to analyze Chuck's Stand first before attempting to take any complicated maneuvers.

---

"Rats? On a ship? That I bought two days ago?" Merry raised an eyebrow at Loqueesha's words. He turned around to the rest of the cooks, as if he was staring at a bunch of buffoons. He fully believed himself to be in the right, that the prospect of rats being on a cruise seemed ridiculous. However, more important matters were at hand. "Whatever, just get the food to the dining hall, asap!" He ordered. Adeline was in the clear! Finally, her and Grant could go back to--

THUMP!

A loud noise echoed in the distance. Something akin to a giant footstep. Merry paused for a second, the cooks looking confused as he gave a glance to the entire kitchen before looking back to Loqueesha. "Stubbed your toe again or something?" He asked.

THUMP!

Merry shook, having heard the footstep once more. The thumps grew stronger and closer as he and the cooks felt something slowly approaching the kitchen. Something dangerous. Adeline felt uneasy as well. Was this one of her allies? Or was it someone else? The third party Greggs had mentioned...were they really here?

"Loqueesha." Merry bit his lip as he pointed at Adeline. "Step outside and check the area. See if you find anything." He ordered, waiting for his pawn to obey. Adeline had been put on the stake, as Merry sent her off on some sort of suicide mission to find out what was lurking outside of the kitchen. It could be nothing, or it could be a Stand user ready to attack. A Stand user that she knew nothing of. She was at a clear disadvantage and the fact that Merry expected her to follow his orders willy-nilly didn't help either. If she refused, it would be a clear sign that she wasn't under Merry's control at all.

"What are you waiting for, huh? Get out there and check!" Merry scolded her. It seemed as if Adeline had no choice but to make a decision. However, leaving would mean abandoning Grant and Emilia, causing them to be revealed and blowing her cover anyways. She could attempt to compromise or straight up give up on obeying Merry and face the opponents in front of her. Hopefully, Grant would have no qualms with her decision.

Meanwhile, Emilia went from crying to light sniffling, since her shrieks were deafening Grant's words. Upon hearing what the lone poet had to say, she calmed down a bit. "You absolutely promise? No take backs?" She pointed at him, almost as if she were accusing him of lying. However, she quickly switched back to a smile as she wiped off her tears and nodded.

"Alright. A deal's a deal, then! Now, uh, where are we anyways?" She asked, having seemingly blanked out the moment Adeline hid Grant and her away. "Also, you heard some weird noise nearby? Something like a fat man falling on the floor..." She was referring to the thumps from earlier.

[Sakurai]

"Right thas a weird fetish innit?" Jack said giving a laugh at the strange man threatening him and the ladies he was with. "Aye, different strokes for different folks I guess, whatever gets yer jollies off is no concern of mine." Jack gave another slightly more drawn out laugh before quickly summoning angel dust and backing up several paces. He kept his stand at the ready to intercept any weird hair tendrils, logic dictated with this stands ability regardless of what the hair was made of it would turn to dust. Because of how [Angel Dust] worked it didn't matter what material an object was made out of so long as angel dust made contact with it, it'd be dusted.

[siegwardofcatarina]

Joan narrowed her eyes at the newcomer. This person was obviously the one responsible for those murders in the crew room earlier. His ability was dangerous, with how fast his hair tendrils could move and the way they could suck the blood out of a person that fast. But if the hair he used for his Stand was just normal hair, then Joan might have a good match-up with him thanks to Valkryja's abilities. Joan would've like nothing more than to tear off this lunatic's makeshift armor but there was a slightly more pressing matter.

"We saw one of your tendrils dragging away a British man with white hair. Where is he?" Joan demanded from the hair enthusiast. Never once averting her cold gaze from him.

[RaptorAttacks]

Axelle watched as Chuck drained Merry's thugs with his tendrils as if he was a gigantic, hairy mosquito. It was horrific to watch, but all she could deliver in response to the sight was an awkward laugh, as if someone had just cracked a joke during a funeral. She glanced backwards, her horror only growing when she realised that her only escape route involved leaping off the yacht and swimming. Compared to the alternative of getting drained to a husk, the prospect was promising. However, if her opponent had halfway decent aim with those harpoons, then trying to brave the sea was a one-way route to getting impaled, then looted, then left to rot until her waterlogged corpse got fished out of the docks.

"I'm... uh, not with these people." The delivery girl said, glancing between Joan and Jack, who both seemed WAY too eager to fight this man. "I just came here to deliver a pizza. I really don't have any issues with you and your..." Axelle made a sweeping hand motion towards Chuck, her lip quivering as she desperately attempted to weasel her way out of getting killed. "...Your, uh... Hair suit. It's neat and all, and I'd like to know what conditioner you use on it, but honestly, I just want to go home. I've got tests to study for, buddy, I really can't afford to waste time screwing around with weird ghosts. It was nice to meet you, though!" She took a few steps towards the man, before remembering what he said seconds earlier, and immediately retreading her ground. "Oh! Year, hair... I'll, uh, get on that, but you'll have to give me a few minutes."

Fishing around in her pockets, Axelle pulled out her first aid kit, taking the scissors from it and beginning to selectively trim her hair in such a way as to not completely decimate her "fashion sense", if it could be called that. God, I really hope this isn't a fetish thing. If it is, I'm not getting paid enough for it.