Alistair took off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt – true enough, there was a bruise there, a small one that was barely worth his time. “You might consider your words when speaking to my [i]Head Executor[/i],” he said dangerously as the girl was pulled back by Miss Mira. He let out a monotone 'yay' and clapped his hands.

“Seems like a contrived way of healing – utterly pointless too. If I had been run through with a sword again tonight I might have reconsidered, but a bruise?” he chuckled at the situation. “Causing trouble with your own family head over it, too. Tut tut.”

He finished by throwing an arm around Trixy's shoulders. “I have no intentions of dealing with a little masochist tonight, is all. You'll soon be on your merry way, and we'll be bathing in the blood of the innocents, or whatever you might think us capable of. Next time you visit the Tortuga, Miss Kingston, come for a drink, not a fight.”