Re: Vendors on Main: Mal/Away Away
The fault lay squarely upon the shoulders of the woman who had lost her balance thanks to the sway of the ocean her body felt while the ground remained still. Her hand had swung out in instinct to steady herself, found the shoulder of the nearest person, and that dumped a slosh of sherry down the front of the stranger. Yet the man apologized to her, and that was all the proof she needed to claim her innocence. The smile she flashed him was as bright as the midday sun, "Apology accepted! Think nothing of it!" There were several gaudy rings on her fingers that hit heavy against his hand when she reached out at the same time as he to brush the alcohol off of his sweatshirt in awkward unplanned cooperation to clean the mess.
The pirate took a step back and let her gaze roam over the man in lascivious appraisal. No uniform. No medals. A young man that she could see by her side. "You do not look a General, Major or otherwise." There was approval in her voice. The man held a striking resemblance to an old friend that had fallen slave to duty. The curls. The set of his jaw. Should she squint enough he would be the spitting image. This was enough to let the affection held for the former indentured servant roll over onto this man who she had yet to learn the name of.
"Tell me, my boy," she slapped him on the back with the warm camaraderie of lifelong friendship, "Have you experience in scuttling a Cunarder or cutting out a P and O?" While the question itself was genuine enough, her swaggering confidence implied innuendo within sherry-soaked words. Said sherry sloshed out of the bottle and onto the ground when she snaked her hand in the air to give him an example of how a ship would separate one from the fleet. Not that the wiggle of arm precisely conveyed her intention unless one was already in her head.