Snippet #2738745

John would rest his bony chin on his fingers in a pose of deep thinking. "Well, I don't suppose Selena would like it much if we dragged her into another trip, though enlisting the assistance of a God would potentially be as safe as an ant asking help from a tiger. Of course, now we've got the whole of the Darkness focusing on Grand Gaia now, we'll need the greatest help we can get. I say we head to St. Lamia." His colleagues, and his brother, would voice their agreement with John, along with the refusal to cross the seas after the Celestial Sea incident. Oh, and the seasickness.
Seas are a common habitat for primal terrors, possibly because after a couple of fathoms, a sailor cannot see shit below the surface. This is possibly why the Chosen Few are normally the first to report that, despite popular belief, Z'irreg, The Undersea Death, was several miles the coast of Manehattan, feeding off the occasional ship. This is likely because of a popular saying among the dead; dead men tell no tales. So the Chosen Few would arrive to their destination, towing a quivering mass of flesh and eyes behind their ship, demanding a reward for their find. The aforementioned incident, however, only involved a hired ship, a crateful of rum, and a conveniently positioned rock. They don't talk about it out of sheer embarrassment, however John often jokes about it in a few of the Skeletorian top-nob parties he attends on account of being the Governor.