Chaos had not been on the ship long - a mere matter of hours since he'd taken the pack - when he finally noticed the hatch in the ship's deck with the bucket sitting on the edge. He squinted at it, wondering what it was for. It seemed kind of a stupid thing to stop one of the Nienteans to ask about, and the former alpha had been drugged into sleeping off the fight so he'd be down for the count for probably several hours yet and wouldn't be talking. Delaney had seen to his wounds - and what a surprise to see so many faces he knew gathered in the one pack he happened to challenge for - so he had nothing else to do but sit, think, look... and be bothered by that damn bucket. Who left a bucket just sitting on the corner of a box?

Heaving himself to his feet, he wandered closer, and realized that the box was actually another hatch leading into the ship. He squinted down into it, but the sun was just right that the whole thing was cloaked in shadows so he couldn't see how far down it went. Hmmm. Well, let it not be said that Chaos wasn't just as cat-curious as his mother. The mysterious mystery of the dark hatch into nowhere just begged to be solved. He needed something to throw in there to see how deep it went. He eyed the hatch. He eyed the bucket.

I did mention cat like curiosity, right?

Casually, he shoved the bucket out into empty space and listened carefully for the metal thing to hit bottom.

Basileus lay in the cleanest corner of the room. His living conditions had improved considerably since the bucket system had been implemented, but the room was still – and would probably continue to be for as long as he was confined – grimy. There was no escaping it. The day to day processes that were out of his control and simply part of living led to the inevitable build up of dirt. Shed hair, oil from his skin, condensation from his breath - all of these little things that were unnoticeable on their own made the floor and walls sticky over time if he wasn't careful. For his own peace of mind Basileus paid close attention to the cleanliness of one corner in particular. It was where he slept, where his food was dropped in, and it was arguably the most important spot in the room. This spot was right under the hatch. With a hollow thud the bucket struck the sleeping captive on the rump. He woke with a snarl and upon realizing what had happened directed a stream of Italian obscenities at whoever – probably that damn cat – had dropped the bucket on him. Hover speech for translation

The bucket fell, and Chaos listened with bated breath for the metallic clang that would announce the bucket meeting the bottom.

Instead, he heard a solid smack of bucket against flesh, and the bucket snarled and let out a flood of words that while Chaos couldn't understand them were clearly not flattering.

He sprang back from the hatch with his fur standing on end, fangs bared. What the hell? He inched forward again, cautiously peering down where the bucket had gone. He still couldn't see through the shadows, but since buckets didn't talk logically there was someone else down there. "Who the fuck are you?" he snarled into the darkness.

The voice that snarled down at him definitely didn't belong to the damned cat. It stilled Basileus for perhaps half a second as he tried to decide whether or not he should play nice to gain favor, but the idea was quickly dismissed. The snarler was snappy already and if Basil allowed himself to be honest, he just wanted to snarl too. So he did. "Who the fuck is asking?" he roared back. The bucket hadn't hurt much, but it was a knock to his already fragile pride and a reminder of his helplessness. Basileus had been in the dark so long that even minor slights sent him into a fit of rage. His nerves were shot, his patience gone and at times, his sanity could be called into question. Hover speech for translation

Whoever it was in the shadows roared back, and Chaos bristled. He was admittedly a bit of a one-upper, rather prone to escalating things when people started yelling or getting bitey, so since they were already yelling... "The fucking alpha of this fucking pack, you shit-eating basement dweller!" he bellowed back down the hatch, striped tail lashing behind him in what looked like anger but was, truthfully, amusement. Shouting matches had their moments, and sometimes it was nice to just be able to let loose and shout insults at an anonymous stranger. "What the fuck are you doing hiding on my ship?" he added in a rumbling snarl. "Do you know what we do with stowaways and trespassers where I'm from?"

The response he got, as heated and insulting as it was, froze Basileus in place. For a moment he was confused, and then the full weight of what the stranger had said hit him. Enrico wasn't the alpha anymore, likely dethroned by this young(er) buck. Given his advanced age he could even be dead. "Enrico is gone?" he asked quietly. He bellowed a laugh suddenly, the sound ringing off the metal walls and echoing through the ship. The threat of being punished for trespassing didn't concern him in the slightest. The only thing he feared was spending the rest of his days in the ship's hold. Everything else, no matter how terrible, was an improvement. "Believe me," he said warmly, "There is nothing that will ruin this day for me. My enemy has been deposed, yes? You have given me a gift, friend, that can't be taken away. "