Aurore Devareaux

tit for tat

Chapeau was casually tossed to alabaster surface, and the grin broadened a degree as Beggar Prince came closer locking eyes with her. His voice dropped lower in silkened smooth, "Enchante, Mademoiselle....Ransom...or is it Madame?" He winked as if having some secret not wishing to disclose, " And what....service...might that be?"

Leaving alabaster perch on soft foot, the ornamented expanse of black chapeau was doffed with graceful sweep. "Sabastian Devareaux at your humble service, mademoisselle." He punctuated with low bow, gazing up to her approach with impish grin, "And who, might I enquire, are you?"

The horse's were left just down from the Holy House, their riders having arrived at staggered incriments of time. Threading through dusk mob, placements were achieved for the vigil ahead. Christophe moved around to the rear entrance of the Old Church, having sighted Sabastian and waited patiently. The front entrance was already secured and governing Padre elsewhere. The aged door was opened, the heavy scent of insence hanging as pungent phantom to the low golden cast of candle flicker. Dim corridor was negotiated with stealth footing and main shrine achieved. Christophe lingered, a shadow blending into shadows, as Beggar Prince slipped to the alter and took a seat upon its' surface of alabaster wrought. In the near distance, the party who's summons brought him here was gazing at the delicate render of Mother Mary holding Babe, forever frozen in marble composition. The dark eyes watched in silence momentarily, before breaking the still with silkened tones. "You desire something, Mademoisselle?" A slow smile of mischievous textures played the contours of lupin features.

mania

LOL!! Killingsworth Jubilee?.....er...I think I would prefer the original recipe. Better do something with him quick, with the tropical clime I am sure he is beginning to smell rather ripe. **cringe**

Awaiting the final preperations for depature, Devon and feline companion lounged near the stairwell. The creak and sluggish movement of carriage arrival outdoors caused instinctual reverse movement to dimmer lumination near back room. Calico gave protest as she was shifted to allow for doorknob grasp, but hesitation occured as the carriage opened up the reveal Childermass and the shoe soles of an unknown. Unconscious step was made forward while furred burden wiggled to be let down and was released. Carriage was left agape as wraith entered establishment, glancing to the Irishman. Moving to the outside world, Devon leaned into cabin interior and let out a bray of laughter. Returning inside, face flushed with mirth, he motion with thumb to where Sterling sprawled, "Fer all their pomp an' braggin', no' one o' them can handle a good revel in'na craic..."

embrace

encompassing

Christophe watched the young woman cross the lane from the shadowed shelter offered not over far up from where he stood. Arrangements had been made in advance with the padre calling the Old Church home and coin had been gratefully accepted in trade. Sabastian was know to be generous to those who looked after Le Cour's interests; which now included the final resting place of Irish Rose plucked too soon. Further up, the secretive navigations of familiar face and form were noted and Christophe stepped away from point of vigil, to re-trace the path young woman had laid before him.

red

Childermass stood stock still, gazing unblinkingly upon the prone figure before him. Deftly mounting the carriage step, careful not to misplace footing into Sterling's sprawl, he glanced about the interior mommentarily then drug the other uncerimoniously the rest of the way in. The door was secured; the ceiling rapped once; and the carriage drew away into the throng milling the late day surround.

phone booth

Seeing the expression on Childermass' scarred features, Barkeep suddenly found a need to attend matters in back. Seth waited for Sterling to recenter in his direction, "Aye. Tis time we be goin'...Tis gettin' late in'na day an there be no reason to make the Mistress worry." A carriage drew up in front and Seth nodded in its' direction, "Look there now...Tis someone be readin' our minds. A nice ride through town an' back to where we needs be..."

The girl had done well to distract Christophe's hauntings, an exorcisim aided with the ply of brandy. Quietly, possessions were gathered and horse called for, then he padded softly from rented chamber to continue on to designated meeting point. He slowed Bay's progress, sighting over the change of population guard on main thorough fare. As the sun dipped further into western skies, so would the character of those that occupied the byways of the Port. Dismounting, the Bay was left to its' own care as Paris Thief moved closer to church proximity. Soon the Chosen would gather just out of view; quary would appear; the trappings of dusk would cloak the heavens... And the first waltz of Beggars' Ball would begin.

"Them things tha' sparkle the more when in the possesions of beauty...Others would be more knowin' then meself. Ne'er been one to be makin' false claims to wha' I can an' canno' do..." The boy reapeared, pointing mutely to where the called carriage would arrive. Seth gave nod in response then recentered on his companion. "Tis gettin' near time to go..."

Seth once again raised subtle brow and settled inward delima concerning carraige. Signalling to the young boy that did odd jobs about the inn, he whisper instructions then produced a shine of coin. The boy smiled than scurried away. "I canno' be the one of proper autorities in'na matter as that, Captain. Can'no make claims to be knowin' that lass' desires...Rather ou' of my line of work, ye see..." Childermass' gaze lit on the newly colored gloves then away to the set of light outside. The gray overcast could befuddle most in gauging the time, but the haze of spent powder wafting frontline could do the same...Neither able to fool the reptilian observation that focused intently to either condition.

Beir and Brats

Frahnken..

Rocking the chair back to four leg placement, Seth followed the progress of bottle to table. Perhaps Sterling could hold his own, but at this point it made Seth wonder if it were the spirits or the nuptuals elation that were the cause of the joviality taking place. Draught was taken, tankard drained and barely reached table surface before Sterling refilled the want; acting as gracious host. Childermass pondered if a carriage might be needed.

LOL!!!! Pitch fork

Sabastian carefully masked his thoughts from giving any outer indications with Aurore being near by. The large armoir was gaped wide and that which hung within gone through with dandyish eye. Younger sibling chided lovingly as one velvet adornment was cast away in choice; slid to far end in favor of next possibility. "Rouge, Bastian..." "Comment quoi?" " Manteau rouge et chapeau noir..."she repeated, smile barely concealed. He continued to search doggedly and she started laughing which, in turn, produced a scowl. "Paon..."she taunted. He stoped, glancing over shoulder, "Moi? Peacock?" "Oui."

Seth blinked slowly, watching the mania before him with some hint of amusement playing his eyes. Another sample of port offering was partaken of and he tilted his head a tad to the right as Sterling rattled off the who follows who. "Perhaps ye might be wishin' to slow yer pacin' a tad...Unless ye be expectin' me ta carry ye back...me thinks me aul bones won't be havin' no truk with such a notion..."

dales

Seth eyed him with subtle curiosity then sampled the gifted elixir. "Na arn ye just gay as a lark...As to the toast ye mention. I would be one to know of such...Bein' from Leeds.....a' one time ere another..." The pale sights surveyed the surround then fell back to Sterling. "Tis gettin' later in'na day, Captain...Shouldn't be lingerin' here overlong."