[center][img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][color=2956b2]March 24th, 1823[/color][/b][/h1]
[img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]Scotland[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	[color=2956b2][b][i]Kirkpatrick House:[/i][/b][/color] The lady Kirkpatrick smirked over towards Maeve and nodded before she continued. It seemed she hadn't been finished with what she was saying, only taking a moment to give pause for emphasis. [color=f7976a]"A worthy sale that is if you're worthless,"[/color] she quipped.

	[color=0072bc]"I am NOT worthless."[/color] This was the first time around these people that Millicent had sounded anything remotely like she had to those that were close to her. There was force, and spite, and pride in her voice as her words came out short, staccato, and strong. Looking over towards Maeve this made the Lady Kirkpatrick chuckle a bit and nod. 

	[color=f7976a]"Then why do it?"[/color] the lady asked, pushing more but Millicents eyes narrowed. 

	[color=0072bc]"Don't presume that just because you hold some title here or anywhere that you are entitled any answers from me. Or that you are justified in any assumptions of my value. For if you continue to do so I shall return the favor and assume that what I know of your name is true Lady Kirkpatrick. That you are a sour old maid so absolutely dry it does make the English humor as wet and lyrical as the sea,"[/color] she hissed from between clinched teeth. 

	The Lady Kirkpatricks brows shot up in surprise. [color=f7976a]"No one dares speak to me in such a manner,"[/color] she said as the carriage pulled to a halt in front of the Kirkpatrick house. The door flung open and the Lord Rutherford stood there holding a hand out. One which Sally pushed aside as she started to get out of the carriage. Once out she looked back at Millicent who was sitting there still and not looking in the womans direction. Turning her attention back before her she made her way towards the front door. [color=f7976a]"Where is that bumbling nephew of mine.[/color]

[center][hr][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]England[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	[color=2956b2][b][i]One Ship Moving:[/i][/b][/color] Silvio rose both his brows as he looked between the two of them, noting that Fyror was not looking at him as he spoke but at the lady. "Oh oh oh, that is something else," he said as he poured himself something to drink and sat down between the two of them at the table. Taking a long drink from his cup, he had to ask. "How do you know such things? If he is so terrible, why allow for a marriage?" he asked, seemingly intrigued by the situation. 

	Regalia eyed Vlad and nodded slightly as she poured him another glass. "Вы были бы удивлены," she said as she leaned back in her chair. She was half hoping that he would have let Ludwig do the explaining. The man, while all over the place, had a way about him that made things sink in slower and not be as hard to take as others did. Especially Regalia. While she was a gracious host and had a charm about her, she was a ships captain and being blunt most of the time saved lives. Granted, that might not be the case currently. Taking a sip of her wine she looked at him for a moment, studying him over the rim of her glass and then shrugged. 

	Setting the goblet down on the table she began to explain. As she did, her hand moved to the hilt of her sword as if she was preparing to defend herself. "Проще говоря, я мертв. Как и вся моя команда. Мы жили однажды. Некоторые любят меня очень давно, другие совсем недавно. Что у всех нас общего, что общего у La Canela, так это то, что мы хотим жить снова, но не хотим вернуться к жизни, которую мы когда-то знали. Мы не бездушны, мы бьем сердцами, наша кровь течет, мы все еще можем умереть снова обычными средствами. Мы просто умерли из-за глубоких вод. Однажды мы проснулись в La Canela и стали такими. Вторая жизнь, если хотите, для тех, кто столкнулся со смертью и отбил его. Мы не выиграем войну против смерти, но мы выиграли одну битву."

	Down below there was a snore and cough from the hammock above Constantine, it was Ludwig. Napping away as if he had not a care in the world. Peaking over the edge, staring strait at the Russian was Dieter, the ferret not the brother. Tilting his head side to side as he watched Constantine wake up. There were hammocks swinging this way and that, several had men in them sleeping, most were empty. Barrels were around, some filled with fresh water, others mostly empty that looked to once hold different foods. It was quiet down there and a staircase wasn't too far away that lead up to the main deck. 

	[color=2956b2][b][i][url=https://www.british-history.ac.uk/sites/default/files/publications/pubid-404/images/fig159.gif]Carlisle[/url]:[/i][/b][/color] She had asked him to speak and so he did... In length. "Oh yes. Parthenos, I wish I could. Intriguing. Two sisters I know of, or so they say. Much is not known of her save that after a wine casket broke her and one sister flung themselves off a cliff to avoid their fathers wrath. 

	What a world but the again, back in those days dear Zeus was sticking his own carved wood into anything and everything he could. How many troubles would the ancients have avoided had Zeus kept it in his tunic? No, Zeus, don't fuck that! Too late! Yes, right off the cliff she flung herself but oh my the gods were not having that. least one. Apollo. Not for them of course, he loved their sister but they became goddesses because of this love. How about that? Imagine getting married and as a wedding gift your brother was turned into a god? Not bad," he laughed as he walked. 

	"Parthenos was given a city though after being saved. Bubastis."