Castle Exploration, [9/10], 8pm

[Alexandra Neuville]

Alexandra had a surprising amount of energy despite the early rise and had done quite a few things throughout the day. She had not physically exerted herself quite enough, but kept herself busy. After her attempts of trying to eliminate a fear she had went back to her apartment and had to undress, get wiped down and put into a fresh gown.

It was rather amazing how much she had sweat during that attempt in the closed carriage. If anything it pushed her determination and she would not stop until she got what she wanted.

After changing into a gown of a deep emerald green and gold brocade with a pattern that also tricked the eye with the illusion of a slimness at the waist. Her hair was re-arranged as well before Alexandra set out to continue her exploration of the castle having walked quite a bit outside. There was talk of what people called the Ivy room that had her set off with a bit of excitement to see what others had spoke of.

Ivy Room


This is a middling sized room that tricks the eye into imagining it much larger; decorated all around in a trompe-l'oeuil murals of arcades. Rows of marbelesque arches carried upon columns of the same, each caressed by creeping ivy plants. As though the room was the central courtyard to springtime gardens; beyond these arches scenes of lords and ladies in playful, and some amorous, attitudes.

The grass-green carpeting of the room seems to encourage the viewer to imagine he might walk out and into enjoyable pass times.

Upon entering, her eyes went towards the murals as well as the columns. She drew closer to one of the columns and gently touched the creeping ivy plants finding it quite fascinating. The room did feel as if she was outdoors and a sweet smile replaced the awe that had been there moments before.

"Such a lovely room." She murmured to herself as she began her exploration of ever nook and cranny.

[Isabeau Everhart]

“Isn't it just,” Isabeau purred, suddenly appearing at Alexandra's side. Keen eyes assessed the gown of emerald green and did not find it wanting in the least, the colour complimented the vibrant shades of the redhead's hair. The Baroness, herself, had favoured a gown of blood red silk, shot through with gold thread so the fabric itself seemed to glitter in the candlelight. All was edged with delicate gold thread, which ran up over the shoulders and down the length of the full bodied sleeves, which ended in a bountiful ruffle of white Chelsea lace. The bodice was adorned by a pretty row of tiny gold buttons, whilst the neckline was notably higher than it had been in previous seasons. The daringly low décolletage that left very little to the imagination was utterly last season.

Strewn about her throat was a delectable strand of diamonds, punctuated by one central ruby. The tell-tale ringlets were teased, as always over one shoulder. And since one could never have enough diamonds, another strand curled around one wrist. "Have you come to partake in the limerick contest," she queried merrily, already casting about for a drink. By all account it should be a merry evening indeed. Spying a likely looking decanter on a table Isabeau moved to help herself, forgoing the niceties of having a servant pour one for her. Lifting the glass she inhaled the aroma, before offering it to Alexandra. "Brandy! Can I tempt you to join me?"

[Alexandra Neuville]

Alexandra heard Isabeau before seeing her and startled a bit as she met the beautiful woman that had unintentionally snuck up on her. Beautiful did not quite describe her but perhaps stunning would be a bit better. She recognised Isabeau as one of her visitors at the Opera the season previous but she had worn a mask and was named Tyche.

"The limerick contest?" The fiery-haired girl questioned with a bit of confusion, "No, I had decided to take it upon myself to explore this fine castle."

"Mmm, indeed, just saying the word tingles the skin." Alexandra replied as Isabeau's merry mood spilled over her. A dimpled smile appeared as she also was offered a glass of brandy. When was the last time she had a drink? "Alexandra Neuville, granddaughter to the Constable of Cornwall and whom do I have a pleasure of drinking with?"

"So, this limerick contest, I believe I have missed the whispers. Were there any stipulations?" She asked with curiosity and took a drink finding it quite warming and delicious. Nothing but the best and she recalled exactly that her first evening with the King.

[Blackguard]

As if on cue, in strode the Earl of Middlesex, accompanied by the Earl of Rochester and Charles Sedley. Middlesex was in burgundy, Rochester in a burnt orange, and Sedley in a dark brown. The trio recognized both ladies. Rochester blew Alexandra a kiss. Sackville bowed to Isabeau with a smile.

"A newly wed and a newly widowed," Rochester observed dryly as they entered. "Ladies, thank you for coming," Middlesex declared. "We know there are a few more brave souls planning on coming." Rochester giggled and stated "but that will occur after the contest."

[Alexandra Neuville]

Laughter was met with Rochester's attempt at charm. "It seems the rest have appeared with attempts of the the start of a limerick battle." She greeted the men from the Merry Gang and she wondered how exactly she had gotten herself into this. Alexandra had no idea how to possibly piece together a limerick but decided to play along until they pushed her out the door for foul attempt.

She would definitely need a lot more to drink at least to find a bit of confidence or a bit of nonchalance to lace her spine and took another pull of brandy. "It is a pleasure to have come." Alexandra replied to Middlesex ignoring Rochester's observation. The first thing she had told herself was not to panick and to be herself which was often to panick so she decided to again 'go with the flow'.

It was the oddest thing though being around these men brought a bit of comfort strangely enough. It was perhaps because she was able to behave like herself and that even some checks did not have to be covered up in their presence. She figured Isabeau was perhaps similar in nature.

[Arthur Kinsington]

Arthur had heard the rumors of something going on in the castle at eight and that the event was to be put on by the Merry Gang. With absolutely no idea what was set to occur Arthur had gone out and about in an effort to find an evening distraction. The captain hadn't bothered to change as his clothes from the game of hide and seek were free of stains and dirt (that he was aware of). Wandering the halls grew slightly irritating as the blond man had absolutely no idea where he was supposed to go.

When Arthur saw three men head in to a room, the impact and meaning of it didn't quiet click; especially since he didn't know any of the Merry Gang by sight. The blond captain almost walked by the Ivy Room before catching a whiff of a particular perfume that had clung to his whiskers for several hours after their meeting in the library. If there is any mischief to be had she is most likely their. He thought to himself.

Once at the door Arthur heard the muffled words 'limerick battle' spoken in a female voice. That was not what I was expecting to be doing. With an inward sigh the door was opened for the blond man to slip into and closed as quietly as he could. Giving a nod to the three men and two ladies, Arthur moved as unobtrusively as he could towards a column. Which he leaned against with a rather nonchalant air. Positioned so he could keep an eye on door and the people the blond captain's mouth had the beginnings of a smirk.

[Isabeau Everhart]

“Well now you are, what can be the harm,” Isabeau encouraged, heartened when Alexandra accepted the proffered glass. “Isabeau Everhart, Baroness Lismire,” she provided, which was the name she had determined to go by now despite stilling have a right to call herself a Countess. It was simply a way of reinventing herself, and wiping away the mistake that had been that man.

“Not that I recall,” she offered, taking a slow sip from her glass. “And since I am to judge it might pose problems if I am ill informed.” Winking, she took another, larger sip. “I am sure the rascals hosting it shall make clear their intentions before hand, for surely if anyone is prone to changing their mind on a whim it is them.”

The arrival of said rascals only gave Isabeau to laugh as they made their welcomes and observations. “The pertinent question being which of us is happier for it.” In such light hearted company there was no need to pretend, or hint at sorrow she did not possess. It was so very refreshing to see Alexandra was a woman able to hold her own in such company, refusing to be cowed by the inflated ego's of the Merry Gang.

Spying another new arrival, Isabeau raised her glass before pouring out another and offering it to the Captain, who stood so casually by a column as daring anyone to evict him. “And here is another ...” Brandy, she reflected with much mirth, was turning into a method of anchoring anyone who ventured into the room and all but forbidding them to leave it. The Merry Gang, of course, were left to fend for themselves in the drinks department.

[Blackguard]

"It is not just an ordinary limerick contes," the blond Earl of Middlesex corrected. "It is a naughty limerick contest. We must compose baudy ones."

"Do you know that there are a dozen words that rhyme with fuck?" Rochester asked Alexandra nonchalantly, hoping to make her blush.

"He should know," Sedley inserted with a sigh of boredom. Rochester had an unnatural affection for that crass word.

The way in which Isabeau remarked about which of the two ladies might be happier caused all three men to smile slowly in the realization that she had already provided the answer. "You have my ... sympathies," Sedley commented in a hollow voice.

It was then that Arthur arrived. "What have we here?" Rochester remarked with dramatic zeal. "Who might you be?" The way he looked at the blond ship captain, it was becoming clear that he was not just appreciating the man's clothes.

Middlesex intervened for a moment to make introductions. "You sir have arrived just in time to match wits in a naughty limerick competition. I am Charles Sackville, the Earl of Middlesex. This is Johnny, the Earl of Rochester ... who needs no introduction. That is Charles Sedley, playwright extraordinaire and all around decent chap. And the three of us are in awe of the beauty and wit of the Countess Lismore and the Lady Neuville." Heads nodded to each lady in turn.

[Alexandra Neuville]

"A pleasure." Alexandra replied as she took a sip of the brandy really enjoying how it warmed her blood. As she was about to ask who was hosting the event, it seemed mention of it had the Merry Gang entering as if on cue. Of course, who else would think up something like this. Naughty limerick contest indeed. She had not a clue how to form a limerick let alone a bawdy one.

"Oh, is there now?" She replied Rochester, and then smirked, a too sweet voice used as she fluttered her eye lashes, "Of course, I would imagine that the real challenge is to avoid using that particular word in your limericks tonight, Lord Rochester knowing how fond and full that particular arsenal is."

The mention of the lady having recently divorced was quite a surprise to Alexandra wondering exactly how she is feeling but being Catholic it was not really something that she herself could ever do without throwing away her own faith. Definitely not a subject worth pursuing and instead kept silent as she took another sip of brandy.

When Arthur entered, the fiery-haired girl went a little pale and averted her eyes for a moment trying to compose herself. Her hand was cradling the glass of brandy to ensure that she did not lose her grip. It was quite a few months and under the circumstances, he would not know who she was. Would he recognise her voice? It was rather hoarse and even 'creepy' when she sang so long ago while she burned those letters and all the precious memories before her wedding.

Trying to at least mimick nonchalance in his presence by taking another sip for fortification, Alexandra gave a polite curtsy when Middlesex gave out introductions. A look of confusion again popped onto her face as Middlesex identified Isabeau as a Countess when only moments before she was a Baroness. She made herself slow down with her sipping. It had begun rather well and now things were just turning confusing if not a bit chaotic, but when is it not with the Merry Gang about...even if it were only three of them.

Once introductions were given, Alexandra piped in a bit skeptically, "So the rule is that it just needs to be a bawdy limerick or is there more to add to the challenge?" She wondered if she could pull it off and hoped to not be the first one drawn but if going up against the Merry Gang who were not quite as drunk as their usual pickled self it might not go off quite as well second or not. Her question was also to take Arthur away from the spotlight not having missed Rochester's reaction to the man's appearance.

[Arthur Kinsington]

The blond captain had attempted to enter without making much of a scene, but it was apparent by Rochester's comments and unadulterated interest in the man that his attempt at subtlety had failed. It was brief, barely half a second; probably a subconscious reaction to feeling like a rabbit in the wolf's sight, but Arthur's face turned to stone with a violent fire burning deep within green eyes directed at the Earl of Rochester. As quickly as the captain's 'warface' came it was gone, replaced by an expression of amused interest. The man dressed in black refused to be seen as prey by anyone, especially another man; regardless of how one meant to 'slay' that pray.

Finding the reaction of Alexandra odd, Arthur put it out of his mind. Hopefully she's never been on a ship I visited. He thought as he took the proffered glass of brandy from Isabeau, his blond head inclined in greeting. "Thank you." The blond captain's voice was warm, amused as he took a large sip of the liqueur and listened to introductions. "I, my lord, am Captain Arthur Kinsington." A slightly stiff bow accompanied his introductions. "And should any man not be awe of either of these wonderful ladies then he is obviously an eunuch." Raising his glass in a honor of the ladies he brought it back down and winked at the red haired woman as he took a small sip.

Nodding in agreement with Alexandra, her voice not registering due to how hoarse and the almost slurred speech, the blond man threw in his own two cents. "I am also curios of the rules, for while naughty limericks are well and good; surely there must be more." Arthur's voice was amused just a dash of feigned disinterest. "Even on the high seas the tales of the Merry Gang have been enough to make sailors blush. And these are men who chide each other for sleeping with their own mother." A slightly predator smirk had found it's way among the blond whiskers of the captain's beard. "Though I must admit that I feel like a dingy in an armada ready for war in this competition. Armed as adequately judging from caliber of the company."

[Alexandra Neuville]

The glass of brandy did its job making her feel warm if not the tiniest bit fuzzy. She giggled at the mention of a eunuch and blushed as Arthur singled her out to wink at her. To hide the blush she took another sip of the brandy remembering that she was supposed to not drink so much and let the amber liquid touch her lips. It was not nearly as pleasant, but she recalled the last time she had consumed too much brandy. Sex with the King, potentially becoming pregnant, then comes marriage, baby, and now she was about to try to survive and fake a limerick contest.

She did not realise how well the brandy was at infusing in her blood, or was it because she was trying her best to change her voice to prevent Arthur from recognising it. Let them think she was already a bit tipply. It also allowed her to practise her acting.

Aquamarine eyes subtly observed Arthur finding that his approach was quite similar to her own. Claws, teeth, there was something rather feral about it and stirring the Merry Gang up often could go either way. It was her hopes that the gathering would be amusing if not interesting, but so far she was just trying to settle in and listen to the rules.

"How many others are to be expected as well?" She asked curiously wondering if it were to just be the six of them.

[Blackguard]

"A ship's Captain," Middlesex repeated and gave Rochester a look. "Sounds just like the fellow we need to take naughtiness to the highest level." Rochester chuckled in a fashion that was more akin to a giggle. "Perhaps we should aim to insult our mothers then?"

"I think not," replied Sedley, interrupting Johnny's play on Arthur's boast. "No, my ladies and gentlemen, a limerick should be witty. It can insult. It can praise. I should think limericks about royalty and the Privy Council would be best. As for ladies, I think we should target those who most wish for our attention, do you not?"

Middlesex agreed with a nod. Pointing out Isabeau again, he noted "she is to be our judge, and she is not an admirer of the perfection that is a limerick, so it shall have to be something special indeed."

Into the room came a smallish middle-aged man with blond hair, wearing an olive velvet jacket. "Behold Alexander Merriweather," Middlesex introduced. "A man who makes perversion poetic."

A face familiar to Alexandra peered into the room. It was a pleasant looking young man in a burgundy velvet frock coat. "Is this the place where there is to be a game of Piquet?" he asked in a way that suggested he would leave immediately if it were not.

"Yes it is Sir John," Rochester answered with a straight face. "Do come in, we are just waiting for the cards to arrive. This is Baronet John Burgoyne."

John was not so sure he should believe Rochester, but then he saw Alexandra and his incredulous look melted into a warm smile. "Lady Alexandra, how good to see you again. I suppose I should call you Lady Neuville."

A lady followed Burgoyne into the room with an amused smile on her face. It was a face known to all of England as Le Belle Stuart, the Duchess of Richmond. It was a pity that small pox scars had robbed her of her famed beauty. She was wearing a silk dress the color of ivory with golden floral brocade. "There are no cards here," she announced while scanning the room, "except for the King of Spades." She looked at Rochester with an accusing eye while he responded with a look of feigned hurt. "I came to observe the limericks."

"The Duchess of Richmond is always welcome in any drawing room in England," Middlesex announced.

Burgoyne adopted a puzzled expression and looked at Alexandra. "What's this about limericks?"

[Arthur Kinsington]

The way Rochester chuckled grated along the Captain's nerves. He attempted to hide his wince with a rather small sip of the brandy held in his hand. Though he was careful to take only the smallest sip, if he was to have any chance if winning he'd have to be sober. A slight twinge of pity was felt for the redhead as Alexandra seemed deeper in her cups than was likely practical for the upcoming competition. Or she's confident enough in her abilities that a little booze won't hamper her at all. The thought filted and rattled around as he brought the glass away from his mouth.

Arthur gave a slight frown at the intended topics of the limericks, after all the Captain had barely any experience in court. "And with those you place me at the bottom of the mast while most of you are above the mid-line in the rigging." The well tanned face allowing the amused poker face to slip away giving a hint at his unease. "I've barely been around the court and I'm not all that familiar with the King, the Privy Council and, worst of all, the only court beauties I know are standing in this room. So I pray ask the handicap of using what I know to create your bawdy limerick."

"So what happens when the lovely Countess Lismore judges our perverted verse special? What is on the table to make me think to challenge the Merry Gang to a battle of the naughty?" Arthur had every intention of partaking in this event, it seemed too interesting not to, but he wanted to know what was at stake. Arthur gave a nod as Merriweather entered the room, "Captain Kinsington," was really the only greeting he offered to the newcomer.

The mention of cards had the blond man's mind seeing the deck of cards he'd brought tucked away in his trunk in the corner of the room he'd been given. Arching an eyebrow at the ruse of a card game he couldn't help but grin as the lady on the gentleman heels shattered the prank as quickly as it started. "Now surely a lady such as yourself mustn't just be here to observe." The Captain moved to the decanter that Isabeau had been using to anchor people to the room with a swordsman fluidity. "That would be a shame. I'm sure you could show every rogue in this room how it's properly done." The male's voice was one of confidence and flattery as he poured out a measure of the Brandy for Duchess of Richmond.

Picking up the glass with his free hand he moved with the same grace as before and offered it to the scarred woman. "Please tell me you'll join in." A roguish grin grew in the blond whiskers as he leaned in and attempted to whisper in the Duchess's ear. "I'm afraid that the Lady Neuville might feel intimidated if she is the only woman participating." Without even waiting for a response Arthur moved away and resumed his lean against the column, the roguish grin evident on his face.

[Alexandra Neuville]

As the Merry Gang clarified a bit more of what a limerick should be, Alexandra continued to be just as confused and nowhere nearer to an answer. Sadly, she was not drunk enough to not care about it. "I submit a request that Master Sedley should start us off." Her opinion that the man seemed to know what he was talking about.

There was a look of confusion as Arthur mentioned court beauties, but was not silly enough to turn around for there was only one woman that she would actually describe as beautiful. Of course, it did endear herself a bit to the Captain, or he was just being polite whichever it was had thrown Alexandra off guard, but she listened and pretended to drink as Arthur asked about the prize if theirs was the best verse.

Then she choked and coughed as a familiar name was announced. She was not sure if it was due to her own spit or the alcohol, but she turned about to get her coughing fit under control. Shit. The curse word seeped into her mind due to Merriweather's appearance. This was the man that had roughed up her maid during her previous occupation of whore. She had made it a point to 'avoid' the man while keeping a distance. It would be quite important to keep her distance and if the man got out of hand, she always had a blade ready to defend her person.

Before she could make an excuse to leave, John Burgoyne had also appeared recognising her and she felt a bit of relief. She would have scowled at Rochester feeling that this event would scare Burgoyne's innocence away unless she had misread the man when he had taken her out for a picnic only to end up barefoot in a muddy pond. He was kind enough to purchase her a new dress after splashing mud on the dress but those memories never fully dim.

"Good evening, Master Burgoyne. A pleasure to see you again. Yes, it is Lady Neuville now." She replied almost shyly, her words soft and warm without a hint of the alcohol's side effects.

She curtsied towards the Duchess of Richmond as she replied sweetly, "A pleasure for you to join us as well, your Grace. It appears that these mischievous gentlemen had decided to sponsor a limerick contest." It also allowed John to be a little less confused as to what was about to begin once all the introductions were settled for the newcomers and the ones that had already arrived.

Arthur had stepped up and like a man smooth around the women had politely poured out a glass of brandy for the newly arrived lady encouraging her to do more than just observe. She had every intention to leave due to Merriweather's appearance, but with John there she figured that he could be used as a shield at least knowing someone.

She 'knew' a bit of Arthur, but he knew nothing of her except her embarrassing secrets and he was another that she wished to avoid if possible. With his interest towards the contest and the duchess, she might be in the clear, and there were months on her side. There was a good chance he would never figure it out.

For the most part she enjoyed Middlesex, Sedley and Rochester's company as well and Isabeau seemed rather lovely as well. Her leaving would be met with opposition and so instead she hoped to find a champion in John.

Something was whispered and Alexandra smirked as she watched the exchange and then towards John, "How have you been, Master Burgoyne? Tell me you would stay and participate as well? I do not know if I can suffer through this alone."

[Blackguard]

Isabeau enjoyed the interchange between the new arrivals and let them carry on while she moved to help herself to more brandy, after greeting each arrival in turn of course.

The Duchess smiled at Arthur's flattery and nodded her head. "Perhaps I shall be moved to participate, though I am hardly a poet," she confessed. Nevertheless, it was nice to be asked. Having Isabeau and Alexandra present was a comforting thing to her, just as her presence might be comforting to Alexandra.

Merriweather had a well-earned reputation that was ever growing. His membership in the Merry Gang had become in jeopardy as his odd tastes were less in style these days. Though he moved to flop into a nearby armchair, Alexander spared appraising looks to both Alexandra and Isabeau, before doing the same with Arthur and John.

"Well then, Lady Neuville it is." She called him Master, though he had received a Baronet. "Did you hear that I was awarded a Baronet?" he replied to her softly, not wanting to sound immodest. "I have been well," he disclosed. "I've not fallen in any ponds lately. That's a good start," he laughed. "But, what of you? How is your husband? Does he take you on picnics after it has rained?" He wore an amused smile as he moved beside her. "I know nothing of limericks," he added. "I can cheer you on." It was becoming clear that he had been tricked by Rochester.

Pleasantries made, it was time to play. Middlesex announced the beginning of the competition. "A limerick is a marvel. Something so short can say something so much," he explained. "Now then, let me start us off with a sample."

"A beauty there was called Le Belle,
A crowned head in love did she fell,
Claiming his royal right
put Le Belle to flight
Whether he packed her trunk, no one would tell."

The Earl gave a carefree glance towards Frances Stuart with an amused smile. The Duchess nodded her head in salute. "What sort of person would allow the King to do such menial things?" she queried in return, without answering Middlesex's question.

[Arthur Kinsington]

The blond Captain shrugged at the Duchess's comment about not being a poet. "Aside from the lords who organized this event, I highly doubt anyone's a poet. Though that's what makes this interesting." The words accompanied a mischievous grin.

As Middlesex announced the beginning of the contest, Arthur made sure to pay close attention to the example. Though lacking any background knowledge the blond did his best to read between the lines of the limerick and piece together what had happened. Taking another small sip of the brandy he marveled at it's craftsmanship, for a second even forgetting about the competition.

Looking around the room the blond was silently mouthing words that were coming into his head. A slight smile gave away that he thought he had one that was particularly clever he spoke out with a rather clear baritone.

"I'd like to find a skirt
whose rather quiet a flirt
and when it enters a hole
twas ne'er meant to go
doesn't complain how it hurt."

A rather smug look remained on his face as green eyes judged how well he did.

[Alexandra Neuville]

The fiery-haired woman ignored Alexander once introductions were given and made sure never to be left alone to converse with the man. The information that she had been given about the man was good enough to judge the man's character as someone that would not bode well with her.

She gasped in surprise and replied meekly, "My apologises, Sir Burgoyne." A soft giggle escaped at the good news, "I am glad. The weather is getting colder and might have you ending up in bed sick. I hope your health was fine despite the dip in the pond." There was no teasing as she asked after his health at least to make up for her embarrassing oversight.

Her husband was a rather interesting topic for quite a bit of men that she have known. If she started spreading a rumor on how abusive he was, would there be unfortunate accidents and out right assassinations of the man? How unkind of a thought that was, but it was lucky enough that she enjoyed her husband who was very creative in several aspects. At the moment it overshadowed the debt he was creating in the dowry he had received after marrying her.

"My husband is doing well. Have you ever been acquainted with him?" She asked curiously still not entirely sure whom he knew and did not have a chance to be introduced to. "No, no picnics of yet." She said sweetly as she gave him a dimpled smile. The conversation was polite, but she wondered how he was really doing. Perhaps if she had pushed an interest she would have married John, but she knew nothing of him and that time at the pond wished to keep him as a friend because it seemed he tend to become rather clumsy around her, or women in general.

"I do not either, but I am trying to find some fun in that." She confessed and then poked him in the arm above the elbow, "You will not just cheer me on, participate, Sir Burgoyne so we can look as the worse limerick constructors together." She encouraged still not having thought of a limerick herself.

Middlesex's limerick was directed at Frances Stuart and giggled at the Duchess' response instead of answering his question.

Then Arthur put his limerick into the mix and made her laugh. Oh dear what was she going to do? Her mind came up a bit blank as she had not deemed it her turn. For now she kept quiet and hoped that another will share a limerick until she was ready to unleash her 'masterpiece'...whatever that was.

[Blackguard]

"That's what we need more of around here ... trunk packing," Rochester laughed gaily. For a man that swung both ways, like he and Merriweather, it was unclear which metaphor came to mind. "There is an art to it that many do not appreciate." He offered a small clap for his friend Middlesex. "Damn you Sackville, you set the bar too high with your bloody example."

Arthur then recited his. Middlesex gave an approving nod. It was a fine first attempt. It was short in subtlety in leaving little to the imagination, but neither was it brutishly formed.

Arthur's poetry was also the sort that appealed to men like Merriweather and Rochester. Alexander especially enjoyed pain inflicted, so the reference to hurt brought forth a cavalcade of images in his mind. "Bravo Captain," Merriweather commended aloud. "That is what a gag is for!" He tittered at the idea how it could stop complaint. The talk of gagging someone caused him to compose his own twisted limerick.

"Applaud a piece of cloth so fine,
following the most liberal dose of wine.
Ending a mope,
with a measure of rope.
In the end, it shall make you mine."

Both Rochester and Middlesex gave his a critical look. "I suppose it is bawdy," Middlesex replied as he looked to judge Isabeau's reaction. Frances Stuart was shaking her head critically.

"Alexander, what I think you fail to see,
is that your own form of taking glee
is more selfish than fun,
Causing the frightened to run.
With the result that alone you shall be."

It was the Duchess of Richmond speaking up for the defenseless. She was more privy to court gossip than most knew. She knew the sort of animal Merriweather could become, though he had his nicer sides too, she supposed.

Sedley applauded. "Not bawdy enough, but true enough," he laughed.

"Good Heavens," John whispered to Alexandra. He had been whispering to her before about the fact that he had yet to really meet her new husband and might have liked to do so. Like her, he had thought that the two of them might have made a fun couple; but, it had been taken away before the idea had grown wings. As such, he was forced to look in other directions. "I definitely do not belong in this room. I have no idea how to compose one of these at the drop of a hat. I should think I would need a week, and even then I think it would pale in comparison.

Seeing the two whispering back and forth, Rochester spoke up. "What about you Alexandra? Are you ready yet to give it a try? Her Grace has struck a fine blow for ladies. Would you wish to follow it now?"

[Alexandra Neuville]

The limericks that had started and ended sort of made her feel uncomfortable as she looked about between all the members of the makeshift contest. It seemed that the man Merriweather was quite proud of what he did and probably could not get it up without brutalising a woman.

Her maid's stories held substance and with the Duchess' own limerick in retort it made her even angrier knowing exactly how it felt to be the one that was once a victim. She told herself awhile back that it was wiser to avoid the man and here she was about to smash the bottle of fine brandy over the smug man's head. The very idea of having the shards of glass cut his belly open had flashed in her mind causing her to start breathing a bit heavily to calm herself as her ire rose.

John's whisper had caused her the red that she saw to lessen as she closed her eyes for a moment to try to breathe, but the infernal corset made even that impossible if not a bit frustrating.

Alexandra bit her bottom lip as she looked to have found a bit of comfort in her companion's own concerns of the construction of a limerick almost as if he was clueless of the under tone that this sort of contest has gone. It was when Rochester spoke up it made her hesitate not having thought of anything regarding 'packing trunks' or anything regarding Merriweather's more preferred methods of 'pleasure-seeking'.

A gentle frown had replaced the awkward look and hoped that her own anger had not shone through during the exchanges of all of the limericks and quips. A small smile appeared as she recalled a particular incident during the last season that changed the attention from that odious man to Rochester. Of course, he would either laugh in the reminder of that evening or sulk.

"Yes, I believe I will give it a go, but please pardon the topic change." She started sweetly as if the angry explosion had never occurred which was only still an inner conflict that had managed to tire her spirit having reined in the expansive emotion.

The sweet smile was plastered upon her lips as she looked directly at Rochester recalling his constant teasing to see if she would blush.

"A gent of artistic appeal
Came dressed to a ball with great zeal
But the overall look
Was not quite by the book
He resembled the wrong sort of eel."¹

Then she gave him a saucy wink knowing that only a handful would recall exactly what Rochester looked like. A blue condom missing a ribbon to secure it to his person.

¹ OOC

[Blackguard]

Rochester met Alexandra's eyes as she composed her limerick. Was she challenging him? How delightful.

He squealed in delight as she ended her poem. "Wrong kind of eel? Really? Then I am quite prepared to show you the right kind of eel," he declared as his hands moved to the buttons on his breeches.

Frances nodded towards Alexandra in salute, while shaking her head at Rochester.

"The light is not very good in here Johnny," Middlesex teased. "If you take out your eel, it would be so small none might really be able to even see it."

"Perhaps I shall compose a limerick about worms instead," Sedley offered as a playful insult to Rochester.

"You mean dragons then," Rochester insisted in return.

John Burgoyne was measuring the distance to the door and wondering whether he could slip out unnoticed. This was not the sort of entertainment he had been expecting, and was fairly sure he would be unable to compose a limerick that was anything more than childish.

Johnny spoke up with a limerick in response to Alexandra's:

"The lady of eels shows some pluck
For one who appears to be pushing her luck.
Eschewing the profane
Is all just a feign,
When she secretly wants only a good ... ."

She had told him to avoid using the word fuck, and he had. The sly smile on his face was joined with a blown kiss.

[Alexandra Neuville]

Alexandra tried to hide her laughter as her fingertips touched her lips. It was perhaps a sort of challenge, but more than anything she just wanted to move the subject away from rape, pain, and selfish pleasures.

The reassurance from Frances warmed her heart, but it seemed that she had caused Rochester to wish to show her the 'right' kind of eel. He was not going to pull his penis out on exhibition was he? Not that she minded, but one had to admire the other for not caring who saw his little Rochester.

She was tempted to ask Sedley to put his limerick together about the littlest finger, but such a jest would cause Rochester to really show it off and at John's current state he would be the one that would fall away in a faint.

He wished to escape and she could understand it, but in doing so would cause a certain amount of ridicule from this particular bunch. Well perhaps not from Frances or herself, but most certainly most of the men not knowing Arthur very well.

Sadly, before Alexandra could do anything to calm Burgoyne down, Rochester directed a response to her limerick. A look of amusement appeared as he seemed to smack the hammer upon the nail, but it did direct the attention back to her.

The fiery-haired woman batted the imaginary kiss away, "But will ever only be in your wildest dreams." She added dryly with a smirk, but her eyes danced with laughter as she looked to Sedley to share his limerick.

"Sir Burgoyne, would you care for a glass of brandy?" Alexandra whispered when the others were distracted. Maybe saucing him up a bit would loosen the man up.

[Blackguard]

Rochester was just reveling in the moment. This was his idea of diversion.

Isabeau felt a bit ill and offered an apologetic smile to Middlesex, excusing herself from the room, but promising to return. Sackville gave her a brief concerned look, but then waved her on.

Burgoyne appreciated the attention from Alexandra, but whispered "do call me John." There was no need for formality between them, especially in a setting where insults were freely flying. "Let me find some brandy." It would give him an excuse to move away.

Alexandra played along with Johnny. He was not exactly propositioning her; but close enough. Sedley laughed as she made reference to wildest dreams. It caused the old playwright to offer his own limerick.

"The thing with wildest dreams
Is it all but screams,
that mere swiving is a bore,
to Johnny who wants more,
From the redhead more interested than she seems."

There was a bit of good-natured laughter in response.

[Alexandra Neuville]

It was nice that she had made a good choice in allowing others to completely ignore Merriweather and his creepy if not violent intentions. There was some concern when Isabeau excused herself, but she had promised of a return and Frances was still with Alexandra so she did not drown in a sea of testosterone. It seemed that there was an unspoken tie between the beautiful woman and Middlesex, but there was nothing more than the concerned glance.

With Burgoyne having moved away from her towards the brandy, reminded her to keep sipping from her own glass as aquamarine eyes glanced over at Arthur to see how he had taken all of the events.

She laughed along with everyone else and looked about the room wondering if anyone had not contributed yet knowing full well it was all going to fall down upon John Burgoyne soon enough. The poor man.

[Arthur Kinsington]

*OOC: I apologize for not posting, Arthur has just been full of fail this thread.

As poetic jabs danced back and forth between the room occupants, the ship captain felt like a ship at midnight in the middle of a cloudy night. Lacking the appropriate background knowledge to truly understand the context of the limericks. Having a possibly divinely inspired Captain Heathen figured it was best just to keep his mouth shut and watch with interest. The only flaw in this plan was how to look engaged and occupied while accomplishing nothing, a feat that many deck-hands accomplished on a day to day basis. Arthur's solution was to keep taking sips of his brandy. With great frequency. Noting the departure of Isabeau with an entertained smirk and a nod, the blond continued with his accomplish nothing solution.

As the liquid burned down to his belly and the tingly warmth spread to his limbs the Captain realized the flaw in his solution to his problem with his answer to having not a clue what the courtiers around him were talking about. Taking small sips with frequency was no better than taking big gulps at long intervals. So the initial plan to not get tipsy was thwarted by his agenda to appear busy and unobtrusive.

As the Captain moved to the decanter of brandy and join the Lord Burgoyne, the floor felt as if had a sway similar to the Harem. Waiting patiently for the other man to pour out the brandy into a glass that was not his, Arthur took the decanter and refilled his own glass.Turning to face the assembled group a slight smile formed. "Since our judge has left how about a new measure of judging?" The next question was accompanied by a rather firm back slap of Alexandra's acquaintance. "Which limerick can make this gentleman turn a darker red?"

[Blackguard]

John was grateful for Arthur's attention. His mind had been swirling as to what he might say when called upon. "Tell me Captain," he asked, "would it be better to attempt something inferior or just decline to participate? I came here to play cards, not compose poetry."