The pirate, in fact, fears little for getting wet

Liz knew what to expect upon entering the curtained cabinet with The Governess (which is to say she expected what until very recently she would have thought impossible). Howbeit, expectations were one thing and that was only a small thing compared to the experience. Upon stepping in one room and stepping out into such an entirely different place to the extent she question if it had the same sky, the rarely befogged sailor was embraced by a bout of dizziness akin to a mountain dwellers first steps at sea. But biting fiercely against her green nature the heartstrong pirate pressed on, taking The Governess's hand for only the briefest of moments.

The outside she'd arrived at (presumably the venue for her watery competition) was balmy and bright as any summer day. It's sun smiled abundantly upon tents, scaffolds and stages. Liz spun to take in these wood works wondering if she'd been near them in her introductory adventure, but found no answer. A heady hive of activity surrounded the pirate; comers and goers laughed and cheered amongst themselves. In truth Liz had difficulty following any individual in the salmon-ly swarm about her. This was not through any en mass cohesion rather no two humans were alike in any respect except their individual uniqueness. People of all descriptions wore clothes of all patterns and color from kilts to cut-off trousers. Some having chosen to dress for the sun's glare while others clung to social codes of dress that were oft alien to Liz. Though, the hardly clad pirate realized with a rosing of her cheeks, all wore more than her wind-tugged wrap and covering of coins.

On The Governess's direction, Liz settled herself atop a small seat that was in itself above a abundant tub. The glass cylinder below looked to measure five feet in diameter and was filled higher than that with water. Indeed it seemed like a fresh drink readied for a giant, but Liz did not wish to think of her implied role should that be the case and shifted with a weary eye. Her skirt, or more accurately the hardly-there strip of cloth wrapped round her waist in masquerade as a skirt, was too short to cover the entirety of her comely posterior as she sat, letting a good bit of the seat unhindered to touch her smooth bottom, and even occasionally graze her nevermind. While a crowd accumulated, the nearly-smirched pirate fiddled with her hem, intent upon extending it.

"Oh dear," beamed The Governess with the cheer of birdsong, "let me fix that for thee." She leant to a cleavage-displaying angle and tugged upon the miniscule tie-round, and to Liz's displeasure, made adjustments so she was not sitting on her skirt at all. The pirate's blind checks were left to become biblically acquainted with the seat beneath while skirt acted as little more than a curtain obscuring the mischief under it. "Better?" Inquired The Governess with innocent interest. Crossing her legs and arms to ration the last of her modesty, Liz capitulated a smile and nod, counting herself lucky that her lower garment hadn't been taken all together. And being treated to that image of those well turned mounds nearly tumbling out of their bodice was quite a distracting consolation.

"That should do it," The Governess said backing away. "Oh heavens, I nearly forgot. Thee will want this." As smooth as glass, she produced a belay pin, though from where on her minimal gown the pirate did not know. Liz took the bulb tipped wooden rod and heald it like a scepter, but in truth she didn't know if it was to be used for it's intend purpose of securing rope, or if cudgling would be on the agenda.

"Avast," she hailed after The Governess who'd managed to already take several steps away.

"Not to worry," she sang back, "I'll be watching thee from the crowd."

Though previously uninteresting, there stood another clear tub alongside the one our pirate sat precariously above. It as well had a small seat, and when Liz turned away from The Governess, she saw another woman mounting it. This woman wore garments only similar to Liz's in the sense that there was very little to actually wear. Her skirt, which was of a brighter blue than the sky above, was excessively short and was corrugated by its pleats. Which made the limited garment all the more effete when it came to hiding the last inch of the slender woman's long legs. Indeed this hem was miles from the pink socks (accented by two black stripes) that were the gazelle-ic legs only other covering unless one counted her white shoes. Her top was also white, a pure white equal in contrast to the impure thoughts provided by the quite winsome bust it tried to hug upon. I write "tried" because among the shirts short comes (others include sleeves uselessly short and its inability to cover even a hint of the feminine abdomen) was its failure to properly encompass the twin cubs. For stretched taut though it was, the top two buttons could not be done up and a handsome wedge of melons' meeting was left bare. The hat atop her head was odd indeed. It had a brim though only extending from the front much like a sailor shielding his eyes in search of land. And a hole in the back allowed for the tail of black hair to stick through. True to tell, Liz cared naught for the oddities of the woman's attire, especially whilst admiring how little they covered. The abundance of exposed skin upon the lithe beauty looked smooth and soft as silk with a dark welcoming color approaching the depth of the exotic hard woods from Africa, or that aromatic and bitter bean the pirate had filtched off ships returning from the new world.

She set her gaze upon Liz and displayed a smile that emulated the sun in both brilliance and ability to radiate across her face. Eyes dazzling, the maiden added "batter up?" to her greeting in a refreshing cheer like spring water. The sportsman woman idly circled her own club, a larger one than what armed the pirate. The tumid cudgel could have been called a batter, as it appeared quite capable of turning many a thing into dough. Yet a slugger from Louisville would have been a more accurate designation, as described by the ovoid stamp on it.

"Now that our guests are on their marks," called out a man that faced the crowd. He wore jacket and pants both of a pale linen, yet vibrantly stitched to hook the eye. "Step right up and we'll see who gets tossed off first. Will the formidable pirate Elizabeth Finely be the first to splash? Or will California's sweetheart Brooke Saunders be making waves."

A handful of onlookers had coalesced from the passing stream of wanderers and now mingled forward. This zeal of disparate outfits approached a large trunk that was set before Liz and her similarly scantrly clad compatriot. The lid upon this wide container yawned itself open like a door caught in the breeze revealing a pudgle of colored blobs like hazardly stacked canon balls. Darting a glance to the Saunders woman, Liz saw she held her slugger ready to swing; the pirate chose to emulate, raising her pin defensively. The meander of observers had each collected a wobbling ball from the trunk, and at the linen suited man's direction formed a passable queue.

The game, which until now was quite a frustrating mystery for Liz, became more clear over the next smattering of seconds. For at the head of the line a woman in yellow blouse and trousers tossed her ungulating orb at the sparingly dressed woman beside Liz. Brooke seemed to expect this and swung true her club upon the blobbering projectile. Thereby the things path was redirected, leading it to splat onto Liz's side where it burst spewing forth a gush of water. At such an immediacy that could only imply causation for our heroine, her seat pulsed gently against her loins. This surge of a hum was quite a start to the pirate above and nearly sent her tumbling off. Her flailed wrestle with balance inadvertantly caused her belay pin to baton up into another tossed blob and in that flail sent the fountain-in-a-grenade over her head to burst on the grass some distance away.

"There you go," complimented the California sweetheart with a pearl smile and salute of her thumb. "Next, try to deflect the water balloon to me."