<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/IzKNJv3.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong><strong>Jacqueline de Fronsac</strong>(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=307047.msg14944687#msg14944687)<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Adrift in a Dark Sea<br/><strong>Wearing: </strong>Sensible Adventuring Clothes<br/><strong>Content: </strong>Attempting to Escape a Disaster!<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Everyone<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Jacqueline winced at the resounding crack of the musket. Outside of the storm it now seemed much louder than before, deafening the woman momentarily. She knew that such things were powerful and deadly, but she distrusted them as opposed to her bow. Still, she had to admit it was much more handy as a noisemaker.<br/><br/>Caught off guard slightly she was a bit more slow than normal to return Michelle's kiss, but as the woman tried to pull away Jacqueline caught her up in her arms and held her close for a second round, giving the girl a smile as she took advantage of the opportunity to do something she might not be able to do again if this ship contained folks who thought of women kissing women a certain way.<br/><br/>It only occurred to her as they were already caught in the net and being pulled up that it was possible the ship was less than friendly. But what could be done? And even if they were, could they be less friendly than an open sea and no supplies?<br/><br/>Jacquline therefore stretched warily as she finally found space to do it, and checked that her sword and her bow were still usable as she took in the rather low quality of the crew's heritage and the rather desirable nature of her companions and prepared herself for the need to correct what might be misunderstandings in terms of the nature of gratitude.<br/><br/>But then, another surprise, a woman stepped forward, a very eye-catching one at that, and Jacqueline found herself suddenly much more interested in this captain's opinion of women kissing women than she had thought she would give any mind to.<br/><br/>She stepped forward herself, not that she had any particular right to other than being of noble blood and an arrogant disposition.<br/><br/>"Jacquline de Fronsac." She said with a curt, almost military bow, "We are the survivors of the poor<em>Charlotte</em>, who was lost in the storm that passed through these waters. We are very grateful for this Mercy." She said it was a straightforward delivery, but part of her hoped that the play on words might provoke at least a smile from that businesslike countenance.<br/>