⟬ Several bells later... ⟭
"Brother-Captain," Tycondrius sighed.
"WhaaAAAt?!" Snapped a certain, irritable and impatient half-god.
Tycon chose not to respond to the provocation. He waited patiently for words that at least partially resembled civility.
Krysaos took a deep breath and slumped his shoulders, "I'm sorry, man, I--"
"Forgiven," Tycon shrugged, only a modicum of annoyance leaking in his voice.
The Captain's verbiage had been more careless than usual.
It was... grating, but not enough to interrupt Tycon's work.
"No, I mean... y'know," Krysaos continued, "There's all this waiting... and... I feel powerless, y'know? Aren't I supposed to be a god?"
...Tycon knew. In fact, he was painfully aware of Krysaos' concerns.
The Captain of the Neptune's Revenge had accompanied Tycon throughout his formation-making progress.
All the while, he spoke openly, his every thought and emotion.
