A Task for Everyone: The Bravos just can't do it

It had been several hours of trying to keep up with all the demands, quite a few more glasses of the very strong mead, and many, many strongly suggestive suggestions from the men. At first, they had tried to keep up with it as much as possible, sometimes even going out of their way to do things in a manner that was more 'appealing' to the crew in the hopes of getting through all of this sooner.

"How... how many more do we have left?" Fuu asked Dariel. She had finally managed to track him down after succeeding at a particularly exhausting challenge and returning to the ship only to find her friends in various states of disarray. Most of the women were very clearly drunk from the constant **** that had been foisted on them. Poor Becky looked on the brink of passing out, and even Kiera was clearly well past tipsy, despite her highly impressive tolerance.

"Ye're almost half way through." Dariel said. His grin never seemed to change. Fuu tried to run the number in her head, but it was difficult, **** as she was. She had handled a few of the tasks herself, and if the rest of the Bravos had done the same, then she was pretty sure that they should have gone through most of the crew's requests by now... Though now that she thought of it, Fuu wasn't entirely certain how many members were on the crew, and she had no real way of knowing how many tasks her teammates had managed without asking them all and hoping they remembered, which was unlikely given how blurry Fuu's own memory was.

"That can't be right... I could have sworn." Fuu furrowed her brow, but Dariel just shrugged at her.

"I'm sort of sorry that I've got to be tellin ye this, but..." Dariel's face hardened for the first time since Fuu had met him. The mood on the mess deck seemed to follow him, voices growing quieter. The new atmosphere and the way it had suddenly shifted, like a cold front had rolled over the room were almost ominous. "This crew is like a family, you see. We can't just set sail with any random merc off the street, and if ye can't finish the challenges, then ye're not one of us."

The sailors who had been milling about idly up to this point suddenly loomed in closer on Fuu and the rest of the Bravos. Wide grins were replaced with somber faces and crossed arms. Dariel continued, "But we've got a mission to do, a pirate to hunt, and we'll be needing ye all for it. So there's only one choice, and it's already been made for ye if ye can't keep going."

Fuu noticed a pair of rather large, decently armed, and perhaps most importantly, sober-looking mercenaries take up posts next to the door out of the mess deck. Dariel's smile returned, but now there was a hint of malice, finally unmasked. He reached down to begin unbuckling his belt, an action which Fuu saw many other members of the crew starting to mirror. "The only way to join the crew is to see that the crew is satisfied. And if ye're all too tuckered out to finish what ye've started, then the way I see it yer lovely bodies are the only way to finish it off. Now I'd suggest ye start working yer way out of those clothes of yers... don't want to see them getting ripped, is all."