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She sighed, walking into the pub and pulling out her own chair, leaning back a little, looking up at the ceiling.

"Yeah..." She looked a little dazed, scratching her nose. "I came here on a merchant boat looking for work, I've been here for about...3 years? It's been hell but I get fed and as long as I keep my tent from falling over, I have a place to live."

She grumbled, thinking over his question about gloves.

"I don't have enough money to get the right gloves, and because of the men I work with they think giving me gloves would be like giving a horse a hammer.


Won't know how to work it well!

They say! BAH! Rotting Hell to them all! I know damn well my way around my tools, and I know how to use them better than anyone else!" She barked, slamming her fist on the table slightly agitated, she stopped for a moment, and placed her hands down from the table.
"It doesn't matter, as long as I still get work they can act like a lot of asses all they please; they know what happens to any lad that tries to abuse me physically." she muttered.

"I'm used to the waters," she said, unraveling her bandaged hands. "But I doubt I could navigate, when I was younger I used to travel alot with my grand father, he was a traveling Black Smith."

She placed her elbows on the table, looking at him curiously. A few stray strands of hair falling over her ear. She moved it back and exposed a diamond earing on her left ear.

"What's it to you?" she asked.

The scent of beer reminded her of the servants on Fridays. They'd always start drinking around six or so, and by nine they'd be dancing on the tables in the cellar. She pushed it aside.

There was one window in the pub. Glass tax was high that year. She'd heard of the Medici house in Italy and how it had hundreds of fantastic windows. No curtains. Sunny day. The light was practically a guest in the pub. In the far corner where George had been sitting only minutes earlier, there was now a pair of rough-looking mates: a stern, rugged-looking sea-farer and perhaps his wife? The woman looked dirty, but Ace couldn't help notice the gleam that shone from her ear as the sunlight poured through the glass like wine into a goblet. A diamond?, though Ace. And a rather large one at that, she noticed.

That's the type of gem you steal from a courtier when you're that poor.

She drew her attention thought of the man beside the woman and she suddenly longed for the sea. She thought of a ship and how it would look to have nothing but miles of water in every direction around you. She could feel the breeze and she could see the fishes. I want to smell like salt.

Marie stepped into the pub as two men left. She took in a deep breath and coughed. She made her way past a crowd and to a table. Slumping down into her chair, she carelessly put her feet up on the table and tied her hair back. Scanning the room, she learned that Tortuga was a place of people with questionable character. There was your group of drunks, as she saw near the bar, the lone wolves in their corners with puffs of smoke every so often emerging out of the darkness, and regulars chatting about anything and everything.

Marie gazed downward, where a small jade ring lingered on the middle finger of her right hand. The stone was green, blue, and grey. She wore it often, usually on her ventures on dry land. It reminded her of the sea.
She would often drift into day dreams of her life at sea (which wasn't often anymore). She could almost hear the sloshing of the waves...the ship's bell...the wind whistling...

She shook her head out of her day dream, cleared her throat, and lifted her hand, twirling a lock of hair.

"I appreciate you doing that for me Link. I'm assuming that all the supplies is stored in the hold?" He said directly to His faithful Quartermaster. He had met him a long time ago, down on his luck and on his last string. But like so many others he found a certain spark in Link. So when Bloody Cash put Brand in charge of The Doves Blood, Brand knew of only one man to turn to for his first mate, Link.

And when he acquired The Falsetto now named The Ocean Raider he entrusted Link to help him steer the ship into Tortuga. But unfortunately the night before they were to dock in Tortuga they began to heavily drink up until Brand heard the crunching of timbers under his hull. Having previously been hit by a merchant vessel, Brand was seriously concerned about the condition of his new ship and when she'd be sailable again.

Having found himself a prospecting carpenter his hope of fixing his vessel was now within reach. "Let me finish doin' some business with the young lass and I'll meet ye back at the ship. There's a few more people I need t' speak with and then we'll see about that hull mate"

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