It is not for glory or riches
or honours that we fight, but only for liberty, which no good man will consent to lose but with his life.


Awrite.

Name's Séamus Dùbhghlas, otherwise knoon as th'wonderful coontry a Scotland.
Now, please ho ye 's I raise a bit o' Hell.
...
Aw, fuck it. Rather kick back wi' a brain new cuppae tea, if ya' dorn't min'.

Scotland

.

freshprinceofbelfast:

nuairathigairduinethigairuile:

freshprinceofbelfast:

Kind of like how your footie team always looks when playin’ against Belgium?

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Oi, Bel’s got more ‘en her little finger ‘en ye’ do in ye’ punk-

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Now I know ye’ lookin’ fer a good lampin’, ‘en, shut yer flappin’ trap-

Give ye’ a five second head start. One. Two. Five.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO—

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—no.

Cryin’ Uncle tha’ fast?

Crivvens.

onenhagoll:

nuairathigairduinethigairuile:

onenhagoll started following you

Crivvens.

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Elowen, is tha’ you, ‘en? Guid and proper?

An’ wha’ th’ hell have ye got on ye’ face, lass?

Dydh da, Alban.

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Yes it’s me. Hones’ to God. *she smiles* An’ Arthur’s been keepin’ me hidden under Roche Rock, rationin’ me a diet a’ clotted creams n’ turnips. 

*her hand reaches up and touches the bruise lightly*

I got into a scrap few days ‘go.

Christ, on’y tha’ sounds like what he’d do for a vacation. Feckin’ lobsters, ye’ never understan’ ‘em. 

[He just sort of. Stares. Just a bit, because for the love of God, that’s his sister after a long, long time.]

[And then he bursts out laughing, rambunctious as you please, because that’s the Cornwall he knows.]

Jings, get into a bit of a rammy, did ye? Is th’ other lass worse off, ‘en? Guid job, hen.

REBLOG 1 year ago 3
tags: #onenhagoll

aux-armes-citoyens:

nuairathigairduinethigairuile:

aux-armes-citoyens:

nuairathigairduinethigairuile:

aux-armes-citoyens started following you

Wha’s tha’?

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Gettin’ inta’ trouble, are we?

Not with a single inch of my being.

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You should never assume things you know. It makes an arse out of you and me.

Wouldn’ want ta arse-ume thin’s, ‘en, on’y t’is not assumin’ if it’s ye nature.

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S’lon’ as it’s not ta do wit’ me, mate.

I clearly have been around Arthur too much, because you saying arse is completely and utterly ridiculous to me.

[Francis chuckles, giving the other a big slobbery kiss on the cheek for a proper greeting.]

Have you lost your joie de vivre? Are you not willing to join me in my antics anymore?

Anytime round Arthur’s too much, so ye’ need to go ‘n, er… whot d’they call it… dee-alysis? Sommat of th’ sort.

[Séamus grumbles good-naturedly; he’s used enough to France, if not the Continent.]

Depends on th’ payoff, mukker. Whot’ve ye’ gotten ye fingers meddlin’ in, an’ is there liquor or arses involved.

heavenintherain:

nuairathigairduinethigairuile:

heavenintherain started following you

…Evenin’, pigtails.

Not ta be rude, like, on’y haven’t ye’ got some paperwork ta be hot ‘n bothered over?

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Evening to you as well, I suppose.

Is it a crime to take a break from paperwork for a moment and just see someone?

T’is for th’ likes of ye’. Don’t ye stodgy lobsterbacks get off on business en authority?

….Why are ye’ here, ‘en? Come ta see more about th’ Union, I wager?

freshprinceofbelfast:

Kind of like how your footie team always looks when playin’ against Belgium?

image

Oi, Bel’s got more ‘en her little finger ‘en ye’ do in ye’ punk-

Now I know ye’ lookin’ fer a good lampin’, ‘en, shut yer flappin’ trap-

Give ye’ a five second head start. One. Two. Five.

(Source: nuairathigairduinethigairuile)

i-am-shamrocked:

nuairathigairduinethigairuile:

i-am-shamrocked started following you

Smells like tatties and regrets.

Must be Eire, aye?

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It’s good to see that you’re still as charming as always.
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Oi, on’y charmin’s my middle name.

Is, though, Séamus Charmin’ Dubghlas, ye can look it up on of those feckin’ bits of plastic everyone’s totin’ round. 

aux-armes-citoyens:

nuairathigairduinethigairuile:

aux-armes-citoyens started following you

Wha’s tha’?

image

Gettin’ inta’ trouble, are we?

Not with a single inch of my being.

image

You should never assume things you know. It makes an arse out of you and me.

Wouldn’ want ta arse-ume thin’s, ‘en, on’y t’is not assumin’ if it’s ye nature.

S’lon’ as it’s not ta do wit’ me, mate.

onenhagoll started following you

Crivvens.

Elowen, is tha’ you, ‘en? Guid and proper?

An’ wha’ th’ hell have ye got on ye’ face, lass?

castrum-sepulcri-burgum started following you

…Th’ hell is this and wot’s it doin’ in m’ garden.

Off, got no business wit’ Little People anymore.

(Right, but greetin’s anyway.)