Re: Sitting area: dripping through --> Around the house, pursuit
This Peter was an asshole, the not-yet pirate had already figured that out. It didn't take much deduction on his part. The wet shirt and the shoe throwing, that had all honestly been more annoying than insulting, but our not-pirate had been walking a really fine line along the Spirograph confusion of his multi-colored emotions on better days, and whatever he'd consumed by the thimble-full tonight, it was making things even more complicated. He wasn't confused tonight, the little pirate knew how he felt. Pirate or not, he was the one in the right here. So what if his methods and his moods were tilting dark side? The Force was strong with this one, you've heard the line. It was because he didn't have any fear. He was justified, he was vindicated, and he had an enemy to take down with due diligence.
Not-Peter took off like a reckless dart, and the not-pirate sneered while just watching, twisting from his ankles to determine which direction he wanted to take for pursuit, if he wanted to pursue at all. When Peter proclaimed that he was never sorry, the vindicated thought that explained everything. This guy was a freaking sociopath.
Peter had some moves, he definitely had good balance, that was something even a not-yet pirate could admit to while the other guy lapped the pool with all the smooth lines of a fighter jet flying low. He didn't slip once, which the not-yet pirate thought was kind of a shame, but it at least cemented his decision to take off after the guy. Or it could have been the weak insult that did it, maybe it was the blown raspberry. Historians can debate the semantics in history books of the future, the fact is that the not-yet pirate did follow.
This pirate wasn't any slouch, either. Maybe he was still young enough to have enough tricks up his sleeve so as not to need to rely on cannonballs and stolen pixies to win wars. This pirate? He was fast, and he cleared deck chairs like hurdles, unhindered by pants as if he'd somehow foreseen this scenario in his future and knew that restrictive denim would just slow him down. He wouldn't be slowed down tonight, he wouldn't miss an opportunity to turn a wrong right, not tonight.
He sprinted across the grass, the not-yet pirate's lungs worked just fine. He was skinny and spry, and apparently very used to running, dodging past drunken guests with ease when they appeared in the way of his path. He'd decided to go around the house the opposite way to try and head off not-Peter at the pass. The plan was to tackle the ever-loving hell out of him.