It hadn't entirely been Rebecca's fault....
Well, alright - yes it had. BUT if the sailors on board the ship she was getting "work experience" on hadn't insisted on playing one of those "newbie" jokes on her....well they'd still be alive and Rebecca would not be in her current situation. Something which both parties would have probably appreciated. Especially the sailors, what with being dead and all...
"Dry out the bilges" they said, which was up there with asking for a "long weight" in terms of wit. Of course knowing nothing better, and being an enthusiastic sort of gal (as many females could attest too!) this she tried to do - once she worked out where the bilges where. They are of course at the bottom of any ship and they remain wetter than a lesbian nymphomanic in a nunnery as a rule. Condensation, doncha know. Well it has to go somewhere and water has this tendency to head downhill and so down into the bilges it goes.
And so no sooner had our adorable heroine set to work and dried out one area, than it was wet again - especially with them sailing in high summer. Some frustrated hours of this and she gave up. Oh, not on the task itself. She would never let any man beat her (well unless it was his birthday of course, he had a well equipped fashionable dungeon and she was suitably squiffy in advance) so no, she decided to take more direct action. Mere mopping up of the water and scrubbing away wasn't do any good (and oh look! Becca was a scrubber after all*), what was needed was the water to be drained away, and draining it away - so the logic went in her head - meant a hole. Seconds later, out comes her sword, in -goes- her sword, and sadly into the hull, and up comes the water. Probably something to do with Pascals law at a guess. You see the bilge is at the bottom of the ship - I know, I know, I've mentioned that -but- it is important. And the bottom of the ship is...well under the waterline. Although in this ships case, it wouldn't just be the bottom of the ship under the waterline for much longer. A jet of water crashed into the hull and rapidly started filling the lower hold. By the time Rebecca was topside explaining the slight problem she was having, water was lapping gently at the gunwhale....
Which was how she became to be shipwrecked with near nothing in terms of possessions. The only thing she had gathered in addition to what she had with her was the sad remains of an evening dress that washed up to the beach. Penniless and in a strange part of the empire where she was unknown she took up the only job she could get. Well once she had money she could at least -plan- to make her way back. Sadly there seemed a lack of positions available for cavalry women, especially those sans mount so...dancing was the thing. Well she could dance at least. Had quite the knack for it. Met her wife that way doncha know.
But as for a stage outfit, she had none - which led to the fabulously designed evening dress being pressed into service, well after some modifications.
Which, given her accent, mannerisms and the most expensive knickers now in the empire, naturally led to the other gals (common as muck they were too. Shocking) calling our adorable one "Miss...*drum roll*
Fancy Pants"
*scrubber being a brit term for a woman who was a bit of a slut...
Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2018 12:03 am
