Tycondrius raised an eyebrow. He found Krysaos' challenge... peculiar.
...His gaze drifted from the Captain to the Thunder God. He appeared to be deep in thought.
As of recent, that one had proved to be somewhat useful. Perhaps... his opinion on the current matter would hold value?
"This is... quite the conundrum," The shirtless man muttered.
It was... a weak thought that added nothing to the conversation.
Tycon was disappointed... yet unsurprised. Comments similar were the reason he ignored that fellow more often than not.
"Harsh, you say..." He mused, "I recall your former reputation, Brother-Captain... a man known for *keelhauling* his crewmen at first offense."
"Okay, you f*ckin' got me," Krysaos shrugged, not repentant in the least. "But still!! Insubordination gets punished with a f*cking WHIP, Tycon-- not a bolt to the f*ckin' dome!"
Hmmm. What are your thoughts on the current situation, friend-cultivators? What would you advise in Tycon’s place?