As the ship goes down, the noises grow louder, more frequent. There's a fear rising in him, and if he didn't know better, he'd think it was the fear of everyone around drowning him before he even got to be drowned. But no, no power, it was all him. All the training he'd gone through and yet here he fucking was.

With teeth grit and real genuine cursing, he finds, not a way out but other looking for the same damn thing. He stops in the hall the moment he turns the corner, knife raised and lowered when he realises who it is; Albert, one of Terezi Pyrope's people. And Cecil. They did say they'd put him in the arena, and ain't like he's ever believed anyone to be truly merciful, but it's still odd to see him here.

He sticks the blade back in his suit jacket and starts to move toward them. "NOTHING THE WAY THIS MOTHERFUCKER CAME. You find anything down here?"