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</div>Captain Kit-Kat was in the middle of taking a gulp from his tankard of butter beer when suddenly his ship status was called into question. Slamming the mug onto the table, unmindful of the slosh of butterscotch sweet beer that jolted out of it over his hand and the table top, Kit glowered defensively at her. He had to admit, her reaction to the "no map" news had been a lot cooler than he'd anticipated; after all, the no map thing had been what made his original crew turn on him. But of course, the first inklings of doubt were already curdling by the snarky lilt to her question.<br/><br/>"Yes. I have a ship," Kit-Kat growled at her. "I know the map thing is unconventional but I'm not a complete gumdrop suckling moron." Shaking his hand free of liquid and sucking on his fingers here and there, he nursed his wounded ego with a small indignant frown and said, "She's the red and white corsair on the dock. The Peppermint."<br/><br/>Another glance was offered to those at the table as he took a drag off of his cigarette and hesitated before he finally decided they might as well know where they were going. "The Licorice Sea. That's where we're going." Again, he assessed reactions to that. It was a black watered, choppy sea, known for the eels that infested the waters out there. Some even said there was no longer water, that the sailing itself was done upon the backs of hundreds of millions of writhing, man-eating eels.