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“Stop!” I shouted, but the masked man dove over the side of the boat. I scrambled up from where I’d gotten tangled in the rigging and looked over the railing at where he was flailing in the surf below, “You can’t swim!”
It took me an embarrassingly long time to haul him back up, a mix of laughing, no muscles, and his inability to make up his mind on whether he wanted to be saved or not.
We flopped onto the deck together, both soaked and exhausted, and stared up at the sky, “How did you drag me into this, the lot of you?” I grumbled to where the captain remained hidden in the shadows of the stairs to the upper deck.
Another of the crew, the knifethrower, a blond girl with her hair piled in a messy bun, giggled and came over to flop over us, only to the enjoyment of one of us, “‘Miko, don’t dare people to jump off ships if you have no intention of helping them out again.” I mumbled, moving her knee from where she’d implanted it in my speen.
She just grinned and hugged his arm, wriggling to squeeze herself between us further.
I just groaned, looking into the shadows again before calling, “Oi, Captain; Truth or Dare?”