Capt. Sterling

No, stick to seperate camps... works out better and has anyone contacted Pete yet?

If that is the persona she'll be doing... either or will work

Redcoat camp Mister Aluitious d'Dogge, Lt. of Marines, Archangel Mister Jacob "RATS" Reiley, Bosun, Archangel Mister Billie Beach, Gunner, Archangel Mister Joshua Merriweather the younger, snotty, Archangel Mister Sean Merriweather the elder, snotty, Archangel Mad Mary Diamond, helmsman, Archangel Mister Craig Michaels, ship's carpenter, Archangel Mistress Lilly McKinney, London Actress, Archangel Monsieur Sabastian Devareaux, smuggler, Le Cour, Archangel An Irishman, smuggler (yet to be named), Le Cour, Archangel John H. Sterling, Captain of The Archangel We shall pitch our tents there at least... I mean, if we get polluted on drink, is it a problem if folks find us in the morning sprawled out on the beach some where??

Makes two of us!

If I have to I shall bring the trailer... won't need that for just wedges though... and the Truck versus the Durango is actually an additional option for more gear space... the main thing is getting it to me so that you aren't stuck without it all summer... I'm thinking Nov.4 Lockhouse would be the best time for me to collect everyone's sleeping quarters and weapons... By Port Washington, I should have a more concrete idea of exactly what will be expected of us besides our presence, the hanging equipment, the gallows, My Little Friend, and our tents, cooking gear, etc. etc. etc.... hmmm you know, I could have the carpenter make the coffin big enough to stow stuff in as well... what is the ridge pole length of your wedges..7, 8, 9 feet long? Okay maybe not a nine foot coffin that would look stupid, but the canvas could still be stowed in it

Was yer Lockhouse tent a Kish tent or the Marchs' personally property?

Oh now there's an idea...

Uncomfortable that he had well over staid his visit and, now, forced to make his way out into crowded streets in the broad daylight, Sterling hurried to livery stables. Chestnut was acquired with few words, and all too easily recognized current master. Sterling mounted and held himself to casual walk through mob, not wishing to have to shout out to anyone to clear his path or watch their backs. He rode, head hanging down, not wishing to draw any attention to himself. But as soon as edge of port neared, carriage was corrected and Chestnut was coaxed into trot and then into full gallop. His concentration settled not on time just passed with blond whore. Honestly, Nelly Greene was the last thing that came to mind. Instead, only thoughts of Aurore were given place, always culminating in final betrayal of only daughter Sarah. “Surely ye of all people should know, only too well, the difficulties a young girl faces in this world,” Sterling argued aloud to himself as he rode along. “Especially alone!” Chestnut’s ears twitched back and forth as master continued in private debate, thoughts hashed and rehashed again and again, until mangled and corrupted. His temper began to flare, his side ache and mount was pushed to make the journey to Le Cour Cottage at an impossible pace.

“I shall take my chances,” he said. Coin quickly forgotten for the moment.

“There is something I must do,” Sterling replied. He reached into pocket. Fingering a coin, he suddenly felt awkward.

Instantly, other woman came between them. Quickly frustrated, this time Sterling pulled from her before he had finished. Rolling away, heels of palms came up to press hard against temples, his eyes stinging with sweat. Flinging linens aside, Sterling freed himself from bed’s captivity and stormed across to pitcher and basin. Water was emptied into waiting bowl. Cupped hand filled with warm liquid and he lowered his face to accept it. Nelly watched as he suddenly began to pull clothing back into place over stained form. He said nothing.

“Good morning,” Nelly said. “Sleep well?” “Aye,” he had to admit. He fell silent, his thoughts turning back to the night before. She was indeed talented, well taught. Yet, even after seed had been spent, he had found himself feeling more frustrated than satisfied. He looked back at Nelly, his gaze drifting over her. “What says the clock?” he asked, moving to her.

Yes we've got ye both listed...

Mine is too ....finally... although actually tis a money order for the two.

He be holding my tent first!

False Ransom, yer plunder was awaiting my return from the colony of New York on Wednesday. Love the "emergency" bottle of rum... as well as my other charming trinkets and the coin for my all too empty pockets! Although, hmmm, I may need to hide the heart shaped box, cocky brother-in-law could mistake it for a sailor's valentine and may get a bit jealous when he spots it in my cabin! Thank you ever so much for your thoughtfulness! (Any chance I could talk you and Chainshot into attending PiP this year?)

“Aye,” Sterling whispered, his own hand straying to take her by the wrist. Then, remembering all to well, he corrected himself. “No.”

“Don’t,” Sterling stated flatly.

“No, not at all,” Sterling replied.

“Is that so?” Sterling asked. Still studying her, he raised his glass for a second taste.

All too well aware of his hideous appearance, Sterling asked, “Do ye mock me Lady?”

“I know what you are,” Sterling said. “And I’ve not the money nor desire for such that ye provide.”

“As you wish,” the girl said. Sterling watched her as she moved elegantly across the small but well appointed drawing room. Her delicate hands reached for closest crystal container and two glasses were poured, taken in hand and carried back. She handed one to him and gently touched fragile lip of her own goblet to his.

Sterling stared down at her. “Port will do,” he responded.

Second alarm sounded within, but thirst instantly stilled its noise. He offered her his arm and followed along. A bottle would do him good.