Tempest Fitzgerald

" Get Down On It"

All right then... "Nietzsche said that there are two types of people in the world. Those that are bound for greatness, and the rest are the bungled and botched..."

Marine

( I have been there! Great little port of call if you don't mind all the condos blocking the ocean view from the road. Nice little town) The Sea Vista Tiki Bar

Tampa Bay

Jai Alai

Croquet

Out of left field, huh? LaCrosse

Four balls...You walk

Nine Ball

*Returning the Quartermaster's smile with warmth* Very well then, perhaps a conversation with a local artisian could produce weaponry of a less harmful nature. I shall inquire of such on my next trip into town proper. It was an enjoyable bout, and I assure you that I shall take better care on the next occassion. *She sips from the glass, catching his eye briefly* I am sure that my Father would accept your compliment fully given view of your own skill. A drink later this evening, perhaps? I must confess...I have no training with a cutlass. There was never any need to procure such a skill. Though, I will assume that it cannot be to remote from the use of a Sabre. *Pulling a cloth from her pocket and wiping brow* I do think I could use a swim, the temps seem to have risen greatly. *Turning to the Master at Arms* I am pleased that you found the view of worth, William. See...No need to worry, no harm done. And you are a Marksman? We shall have to set up a range when time permits. I do love a good round of target practice, moving or non. Do tell, have you any experience upon horseback in such capacity?

*Startled by his grasp of her wrist, she looses her grip of the rapier* My sincere apologies, Dorian...It would seem I get a bit caught up in the moment... *As her wrist is released, she nods to her Steward to bring two glasses of water from the waiting pitcher* You will forgive, I trust... *Hands one of the glasses to him* Mayhaps I should keep my bouts to times of need and my practice with Armand. He knows my wicked ways, my Father taught him the Art. Doing so, we are well matched...

*She raises a brow to his counter of Forecut. Moving foward she uses a Bind, moving his blade diagnally to the opposit side, holding the Gauche wide to intercept a slip. She steps back a pace as his rapier slides free and feints left* Thank you for the compliment... *She backs again and stands at ready. With a quick forward movement she lunges to engage again....*

Je na sais quoi...Yes, the cutlass is not an elegant weapon, but one well served in its right... *Advancing with fluid step, she feints left then attacks with a Froissement, the ring and slide of blade to blade rolls the air. A twist of wrist to circle and drive his blade's tip downward in Glide then a quick step back, dissengaging* Well done... *She retrieves the Gauche from her sash and waits...* //Froissement: To attack your opponent's blade with a strong, sharp, accentuated glide along its legnth// (f roys-ma )

*Relaxing her mind calculates his advantages of reach. Engaging, she presents a false attack to gage his reflex, then retreats by "Passe' arrier", her feet crossing nimbly and returning to guard* Are you sure you are up to this? *She begins to circle right...* Truly, this is an indulgence and is more befitting to the streets than a ship's deck... *She pauses in movement, still in guard...* Rapiers were never ment in design for the close confine of a ship's breadth, nor for boarding... *Continues to circle...*

Here will do as well as any. If you feel you are in the ready... *She moves to a respectable distance, lifting the rapier to lie afore her face, extending upward at an angle, back to the former position and downward at an angle to the decks in salute before going into guard* The deck is yours...En Garde!

Felicitations to you, William! And I do say...that meal is fit for a king! A portion of it, if you will.

*A coolness plays over her eyes as she gages the Quartermaster's movement, knowing much can be gleened in its procession. Leaning causual to the 'wale she calls to her Steward* Armand...Un cruche eau douce, s'il vous plait. Merci. Her hand rests comfortable upon the familiar jeweled pommel as she waits, continueing to observe Dorian's body language and movement.

*She pauses in limbering at William's approach...* Why Mister Wake...You are more than welcome to stay for the...feastivities. And have you no worries for my constitution... *A hint of feral smile* I have a sting...

The Chordettes

*Considers for a brief* Being that you seem set to a melee on deck, so be it. Although the soft footing of sand provides a greater challenge to balance and footing, I shall honor your request as is proper etiquette. *Armand aproaches with the satchel, she hefts both the Italian Seven ring then the French Swept hilt in turn. Returning the Italian blade and requests the French Main Gauche, tucking it into the back of her sash...* Merci, Armand. *He nods stepping back, with a quick glance to the Quartermaster* Do tell...Where is it that you would like to start this little dance?

The 60's

Here there be Sea Serpents

*She scans his expression of psuedo innocence, catching the fleet glint of betrayal in hazel vision before changing center to watch William go below and calls after as a thought occurs to her...* Mister Wake!...I must entreat you with strict medical observation and confidence!... Do to your sanguine nature in relation to the heat and exuberant exercitation, I strongly advise a healthy intake of fresh water. And by fresh water I do not include the infussion of rum as the perscript! A spirit of stronger qualities is fine upon this evening's arrival with some care to moderation, if you please. *Returning her focus on the Quartermaster* Mister Lasseter, if it is of undue issue...Armand and I shall continue with our plans ashore. If your duties for the day are not of burdensome quality, you are more than welcome to accompany. I have intention of testing my skills of steel on yon shore and if you feel that your Finta in Tempo is of proper standing, I shall be pleased to test your worth... *A hint of challenge raises in her expression...*

New Holland