Tempest Fitzgerald

A sly minx, you say? Truly, you flatter me so.... You may continue.

Wanna bet? **sticks out tongue**

Well....One might be so inclined to stir the roux....just a tad. **scratches head in thought** Now where was it exactly that I tucked away The Sphinx and that rogue Lamaire.... One would be clinging to the shadows.... The other.... More than likely some local watering hole.... Hmmmm

I "heart" you more, P. **blush**

I came across this old friend and was in fear that it might become misplaced in the past. With this in mind, I took it upon myself to raise it to the forefront...oh flame caressed bird from the ashes. This is where it all began, after all, and many a fond memory stems from its' humble start. (Of course, one must go beyond page one and more into the vacinity of ten to gain the tale at hand.) A toast in recognition to writers new and old, that have kept this tale alive!

Broadway

As legal procedures of the day would and could dictate, what once belonged to one now laid to rest a numbing blur of vin induced days and nights to the past, was now in firm possession of kindred. High aloft on fine sculptured terrace, the new Master of the Estate held quite and spirit laden reign to the ghosts of recent past. The tang of salt tinctured breeze stirred spyglass cradled on eloquated stand; rounded eye staring blankly at the bay beyond and the vessels that rocked gently on tropical water. Below, drifting upward to half tuned hearing, the soft voice of recent Widow spoke instructions to servant’s query. The petit form that was seen upon Martinique's departure, now disrupted by slight convex. Snips and bits of conversation traversed the air, Dominique shifted almost restless to what transpired within feminine verbose. Placing stray tress of unruly manner into check behind right ear, the new Master rose from carved chair; intentionally keeping eyes averted from Frigate that could be glimpsed if a degree to the right were centered on. But, Her visage reawakened remorse that was barely restrained as was....And Lamaire had found it best not to invite such hosts into his company. Passing thru multi-paned doors of glazier perfection, he paused at writing desk, gazing upon commission papers that lay pinned by bottle t once holding grape sacrifice. Survey was made of well appointed boudoir, a scene of slightly askew bearing and decision was made to quit sanctuary for the lower floors. It was only proper to check upon the current well-being of Madame Fournier. He found no pleasure in her young and spoiled ways, but regardless, she was the key to future legacy and Dominique would be steadfast in ensuring that the next generation would be encouraged to arrive safely into this turbulent world of chance....

The matched Grays turned curious attention in unison to Mister Delaney's aquire of driver's post. The paddock, once full of equine host, was now in state of depleation with a handfull of original numbers within its borders. Quiet conversation drifted early morning still as the Faithful waited patiently to begin Port trek. Enclosed carriage had been maticulously attended to, its exterior offering dull reflection of subdued morning light. Lots had been drawn and a smattering of men milled about equine crowded yard in wait of brethren departure. Even in times as this, the cottage's surround would not be deserted completely. Aurore emerged from domocile shadow accompanied by Megan, the waterfall of rich wine silks a splash of contrast to company's ink hued cladding. The area was overcome with respectful hush and Christophe moved around carriage side as aid to entrance. He waited placidly until both females were seated, than swung door securly to latch click. Last minute check was made to blue roan's tether on carriage rear, then saddle was gained on familiar Bay. Signal was given to Delaney's waiting eyes, and slowly the percession moved forward out of folliage cover to the main road beyond. There was no urgency to progress, just steady traverse. Soon enough, wide vista of cane fields would give way to outcropping of wooden architecture; gaining more prominence as the Port neared. They would travel the narrow streets until reaching field of stone monuments within town's looming enclosure. Here they would wait patiently for Beggar Prince and the final walking home of Irish Rose.

capacity

Dance Card

(Avery) labels

Jason eyed the older man incredulously with the rantings comencement and allowed himself to be dragged into the room. Perhaps, he thought to himself, that it was just an example of what happens to one's mental facalties in Golden Years. Once or twice, young lad made to speak then thought better of it. Such an action might further stoke the other's passions. Jason resigned to stay quiet and resisted the urge to squirm in the chair. His first confrontation with the elder afore him had been brief, in no way preparing him for the present experience. Just as it seemed there would be reprieve, Symm's regain stregnth in personal convictions. Jason concentracted on choking back laughter and keeping a straight face. The old bird reminded him so greatly of a long ago Papal priest who's sermmons were long winded and far from the solem dignity of Catholic manner. Was it....? Oh yes...Father Donahue, his young mind recalled. As though Symms sensed his audience of one's thoughts drifting elsewhere, he saw fit to raise his voice to higher levels. The newest presentation being that of disrespect regarding attention given when one was being addressed. Jason allowed a low sigh, and wished with highest hopes, that the Master of the "house" would not linger overlong where ever it was that he found himself.

Aurore stood in the morn's ealiest light next to Jason's prefered mount Old Tucker. The young lad had dubbed tried and true companion such as an irony, for the horse seemed to never tire nor was it old. Deftly gaining firm seat, Jason reached down to receive Mistress's desire then secured bundle in afore him on the saddle. Words were exchanged briefly and as young rider was about to start short journey, Aurore's voice caught him mid act of mount command. Cherubic features turned to her with silent query. From around the keeping of slender neck, medallion was withdrawn and handed to reluctant hand. Jason would not question the action, though it left him rather puzzled as to why she would do so. "Make sure that this is given unto the Capitaine's keeping only. If there is a problem this is its' remedy, as you are well aware. But, please advise him to be prudent in its' exposure. I need to know that his safety is ensured." Jason nodded uncertainly, glancing to the sigil of bird in flight briefly before tucking it away. The sorrel was goaded forward and soon gained easy stride of speed. The venture from the bush to salt tinged air was conquered in good time and mount was drawn up before familiar structure. Admitance was easily gained to upper floors and once again, young lad found himself before familliar door. Soft rap was issued, awaiting answer from within...

Arcanna ( card classification, suite and face )

prophet