[Poggio]

Mary laughed. It boisterously invited onlookers into the privacy of the shop. The mirth continued on her lips was her eyes trailed along the features of Mr Kite. Gentle fingertips, posed to tease the boy, call him a babe, but they paused every so slightly gracing the rounds of the un-haired chin. The ambition, false bravado, and need to be… bold. Her heart beat for another, that was so uncanny and eerily similar. A small growl came out of her lips. Her mind was oft fogged by the very liquid poison that was proverbially said to always be with her character. Slowly, black locks shook in tune with denial with the boys last words. The pirate dropped the bottle in her grasp and walked out the door.

She inhaled the modern air. With magic and an exhale, Mary cloaked herself in modern attire that spoke of rebels. She dusted the gunpowder off her leather checking out the shadows of the narrow roadways. Their position within the battle field was horrendous. She could feel at least two other servants close to the grail, and one she could not pin point. The pirate twisted away from the smell of seasalt. There was a time and a place for wants and needs. A pirate was more than treasure. Battles, friends, enemies. Greed had a price. Mary strolled towards the palace on the hill.