(for a man without a plan, noctis sure is intent on taking the lead. that suits jonas just fine, barely able to think as they're blasted by the next wave the bow takes a nosedive into. he throws his hands forward on instinct to shove them both forward into the rush of seawater that drags their legs backward and nearly slips with the effort.)

How the hell should I know?! (he shouts into the gale, uncertain if his voice is even making it through to noctis. it's almost impossible for him to hear unless he turns his head into the current.) There, there, there—anywhere! Anywhere else! Out!

(standing against the taffrail, the g-force of their accelerated crash down makes it feel like they're not on a ship but a mechanical bull. bucked violently with a shout, jonas lands painfully on his knees and against the backs of noctis' legs with a blind reach out for a wooden rung.) God! oh, God, I'm— (what his fingers find there is deliverance in the form of a rough rope which is traced out and unwound quickly in panicked yanks, doing what's asked of self-respecting passengers on any vessel: first, jonas secures himself around his waist with a hard pull at the knot.

third, the other end is tied off to the ship. second, jonas still owes noctis for saving his life and lashes him down in a few sharp tugs.)

Whatever you can do, do it! What's the worst that could happen? We die?