Backstabbing traitors.
That’s the first thing you thought when you were tossed of the ship, bloodied. You had been loyal, you had helped around the ship, and where had that led you?
Off the plank and into the sea.
There was a small piece of driftwood. That was the only thing that kept you afloat, and since it was the last thing you really had, you became attached to it.
However, tragedy struck one day. The driftwood, worn out from days of being tossed around in storms and from being used as a source to float finally broke to the point of unusablility. You hadn’t slept in days, so there wasn’t a lot of energy to keep up.
However, right before you went under the water, you swore you saw a ship. You hoped it was your saving grace. Or maybe it was a sign of the end.
As you sank below, water filled your lungs. Was this it? Was this how it would end, with help so close?
Suddenly, you briefly saw a figure in the water swim towards you and grab onto you.
As you were pulled onto the deck and left to lay there, you coughed up sea water and blood. You were exhausted from days of floating in the sea without any rest. You were battered, and you just wanted to have some peace.
Some people surrounded you. Who they were, you didn’t care. You were just glad they saved you.
A woman with orange hair then walked over. “What do we have here?” She then took one look at you, and yelled to someone else who was standing over you— maybe the man with the clock for the head? “Dante, I TOLD you to not bring random people on the ship! Especially not someone as disheveled as this person!”
The man with the clock for a head— presumably Dante— then mumbled something to himself.
The woman shifted her attention down towards you. “Who are you, and what the hell are you doing on OUR ship?”