Ciao Arthur,
Well, you sound happy to see me.
Good. Most people forget about me. I'm not writing to take back America. Not promises about my fratelli though.
Eh, same old, same old. Tired from work. I could sleep for a million and one years. And France (il bastardo) has been sneaking around my house again. You would of thought he had enough of me already.
Amore,
Angelica Vargas (Italia Sicilia)
'Ello Love,
I'm overjoyed to hear from you.
Oi, what they doin' forgetting 'bout you? And good. He bloody better not mess with English territory.
That French bastard. Just give him the tar n' feathers and then set him loose on the streets.
Captain Arthur Kirkland (I recently got a ship)
A/N History time~! Tar and feathers: a really humiliating and nasty way to die- in which the preson has melted tar pored on them, then a bunch of chicken feathers to give 'dramatic' effect. Most people didn't live long enough to see themselves look like a chicken because the boiling tar would have melted their skin, hair, anything else it could melt before it could down into a hard shell.