Aurore Devareaux

** ou mort** or death

liberty

Childermass streached leisurly in the semi-dim of the Shipp's common. From above in unseen corridor, boasting of some nature flitted down perilous stairwell causing him pause to intended draught. Cocking an ear minutely, the final words were captured causing weathered tom to shake his head and chortle under breath. Tankard was drained smoothly and chair was pushed back to pivot on rear legs with percarious act of balance. The pale sights glanced sidelong, their owner waiting patiently for charge to reapear.

par

South America....I think

better that than "humanitarian"

enticing

Er.....pass

liaisons

Christophe shook his head in disbelief then retrieved the Bay's reins from where Sean stood trying to ignore what was taking place. Regaining his former seat, the Frenchman said one word, "Incroyable..." The Bay was nudged into movement and just as rider and mount passed under barrier archway, Christophe twisted in the saddle to gaze on Sabastian's still disrupted posturing. " C'est malchance, ami...malchance." The mount was paused briefly, Christophe returned to forward face and his words drifted back without intonation, "I will return afore the sun sets, until then...I need to clear mine thinkings or drown them in something fitting." The Bay was spured forward, echo of shod step reverberating courtyard borders in retreat.

Sabastian's lupin features reflected the confusion that now plagued his mind; relaxed poise was vanquished and he stood a little straighter to its' discomfort. "Pardon? Je ne comprends..." "He is not one of us....I do not think he even fully understands what we do....An Aristo, Sabastian. The son of an Aristo and Anglais! Not even of French origins!!...Do you know how they treat the Tribes in England? Do you forget so soon, what befell your parents and brother in Navarre? Mon Dieu!!" Christophe spat on the ground in disgust, "And what will happen when this man you have entrusted, grows weary of what she is. When he has taken her so far away from us, and there are none to look after her?! Merde', 'Bastian!!! What of Andre'?! Do you think that he will go along with this?" Dauphin Gitan bit down hard on the words that wanted free roam in retort, taking a deep breath, he spoke softly. "What are you dancing around, ami? There is more to this than what you are willing to say..." The words struck Christophe as hard as any physical blow might have, and he turned his eyes elsewhere in reply.

chit

As long as he has been marinated properly.

shale

The return ride was much in qualities as the trip out had been, though some things had altered in nature. Sabastian's inner tranquility matched what had been shown without; but companion had grown more aggitated and what had so carefully been concealed rose up as the rear of rookery was achieved. As Begger Prince dismounted, handing reins into the care of Sean Roberts, unconscious note was taken in the absence of Christophe doing the same. There was a slow smolder in the Frenchman's eyes, his jaw rigid set as a mirror to posture. Sabastian raised a brow while removing the soft encasement of gloves, knowing well after all these years that prodding the other would gain no ground. Christophe dismounted slowly, keeping his back turned as if to hide further the chance of expression betrayal. A glance was cast barely over shoulder, "'Ow could you condone and even futher, approve of this choice? He will never understand her....not as we do...." The Frenchman turned sharply, eyes narrowed, "Do not tell me that he proffesses love. How could he truly love what he has no understanding of....?" He dropped his train of sight to the cobbles underfoot, voice declining to near whisper, "He can never love her...as we do..."

Have a grand time of it!!! Hmmmm....must be an Irish celebration. We'll leave a light on for ya!! Have fun storming the castle!!!

curve

concave

Aurore looked at him with quizzical expression, she wished to know what the errand could be and why he was being so secretive of its' nature. She searched his face for some explination, but none was apparent. "Tres vien." Giving a smallish tug, she indicated the quickest rout of return.

Devon Burke emerged from the tavern, acting as if his attention was elsewhere. Overhearing a snip of the conversation betwixt Captain and subordinant, he intentionally bumped into Sterling's unaffected right side and began sputtering apologies as if it had been clumsiness on his part. Grabbing the Captain's good arm in an act of begging mercy of his betters, the Irishman dropped his voice to whisper. "Tha' lass ye be speakin' o' is nestin' a' The Shippe, fer true. A gran' bit o' it..." He winked then hurried on his way, another act of mock fear regarding the Captain's wrath.

low

Sabastian and Christophe were restless for differing reasons, and as a way to distract from all that was not said, the Bay and Noire were saddled. The light tinkle of silver bells gracing ornate tack floated the air in phantasmic accompaniment to the gray skies above. The pace was slow, conversation sparadic at best, as each rider seemed lost in deeper thoughts left untarnished by the rough qualities of speech. Nods were exchanged to those known or not by regal pair, as they traversed closer to salt fluid existance through the lesser throng of human sea. As the harbour was neared, mounts were reined in and kingdom by the Great Salt was surveyed with casual interest.

viola

Seth moved further down bar's legnth as the gathering began to break. Near the far end, the lighting dulled further, which suited him fine and the barman was quick to deliver freshened tankard without request. He turned a degree, offering a better vantage of the surround and young Shannon O'Neil busy with to and fro. Pale sights kept hidden observation to the Common's mood and those who remained behind. He would wait out the emptying of this tankard, then another, before slipping into the gray damp of early afternoon conditions.

**good tune** piano