[Video Post]
[A man-- burly, dark haired, shirtless, hairy and lightly scarred with tiny brown wings flapping excitedly at his back-- can be seen holding what can only be his journal out in front of him. He is wide-eyed with curiosity and more than a little confusion
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[ a bit of laughter; oh my, but things are so much easier to be pleasant about since jack's return. ] Hotspur. Huh. Kinda sounds like the name for a spaghetti western.
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What? No, it's an English ship.
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I figured. Y'know -- what with the accent.
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Not sure about your accent, myself. New South Wales, perhaps? [He doesn't know what Australians sound like, or, for that matter, Americans, if they sound different at all from proper Englishmen.]
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[ it sounds self-deprecating, but it's not. some rather confident snark, actually. ]
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I may not be the best sort of gentleman, Miss Buffy, but I hope I'm not the sort of blackguard who'd think ill of an accomplished woman such as yourself. A good judge of character, I am.
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[ because there might be a paragraph in the new feathers guide about her defeating the third party's general. ]
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[ soon, a little helpful direction to the guide is scribbled to william, journal-wise. ]
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