Mostly Joe's surprised his guesswork was so spot on. Basco had accomplished what he thought he meant to do. He'd caught them, he'd claimed the Galleon and all that went with it as his own, and then he was left with no goal, no drive. He spent time, Joe can see now, trying to coax some manner of fight out of Marvelous, but he'd made another fatal mistake in using Joe to do it.

Marvelous' wings weren't broken at all, merely clipped. And what held him in place was sincere belief that Joe, his best friend, beloved first mate, would get them out of this, no more than another tight spot and impending execution.

Joe. He'd picked Joe to try and spark another chase, but Joe had found, as time stretched on, that he couldn't bring himself to hate Basco in this setting, in this situation.

Basco had driven himself slowly insane, with no prey to hunt, no outlet for the base instincts of the monster inside of him.

"You stupid bastard." Joe laughs weakly, his leg buckles when Basco goes limp against him. He can't hold up forever, and his primary loyalty is still to his Captain, regardless of what kind of strange duty he's beginning to feel towards his captor. He thrusts forward with all of his weight, catching Basco around the waist and dragging him down. He lands on his back on the floor of the cell with a slight gasp at the shock, with Basco on top of him.

"Would you really underestimate us till the very end? Shells, you say, all of us? You believe that?"