By Any Other Name...
From England, Shamrock went back to Ireland. It was time to get some digging done. She still had family connections to the IRA. As much as she hated it, and hated them. It wasn't the right way to do this. Though sometimes one had to wonder what else the English out of Ireland. Out of anywhere they had been over their history that they really just should've stayed out of.
Ireland. Wales. Scotland. India. China...
The list went on and on. At least they were long past the days where 'the sun never sent on the British Empire.'
Dublin was a town of pubs. Of churches. Of so many things beyond what the tourists went to see.
Right now, Shamrock was going over some old places. The type of place where people normally did not speak English. Gaelic was the language of choice, and to find the little bomber from the London Underground, she was trying to stick her foot into a world she hadn't touched or ever wanted to touch. The things you did to keep people from using super powers for bad, bad things. Shamrock was proof there was a way out.
"[Thank the Blessed Virgin I have me a little luck,]" she muttered in Gaelic. That made life so much easier.
Ireland. Wales. Scotland. India. China...
The list went on and on. At least they were long past the days where 'the sun never sent on the British Empire.'
Dublin was a town of pubs. Of churches. Of so many things beyond what the tourists went to see.
Right now, Shamrock was going over some old places. The type of place where people normally did not speak English. Gaelic was the language of choice, and to find the little bomber from the London Underground, she was trying to stick her foot into a world she hadn't touched or ever wanted to touch. The things you did to keep people from using super powers for bad, bad things. Shamrock was proof there was a way out.
"[Thank the Blessed Virgin I have me a little luck,]" she muttered in Gaelic. That made life so much easier.