Aurore Devareaux

noir

Master

ignorant

Most interesting. I was under the impression that subjects of debate would be handled in an adult fashion. I am finding that this is obviously not the case. A good debate I can appreciate, but when it turns into an argument with bad form, lacking respect for others involved, I must bow out. In regard to the "Arnold, J. Thingie Never Written About Clothes. p. -3 to -7."....I was refering to how fashions of one area of Europe would influence another area of Europe. In other words, the melding of fashion, not specificly stating such in regard to "mariners".

In regard to Ms. Arnold, her writtings make note of fashion crossovers in a general sense. Perhaps you may wish to consult "Patterns of Fashion", Pg 2. As to mine comprhension of what you are stating, it is quite crystal. No evidence IS no evidence... in either direction. If you can offer validity to your aurgument, I might consider taking it under advisement.

And therfore, you are saying, you have in your possession evidence of concrete mannerism that what you state is infalliable. Perhaps you may wish to consult Janet Arnold in regard to the melding of fashions.

Please be so kind as to re-read what I made mention of. You will find, upon doing so, that I specifically made point of being circa correct. On further note, if Bonny and Read where known to cross dress, which is accounted for in the trial records, they were dressing according to what was the norm of their peers, i.e. Mariners. There is nothing saying that one has to specifically dress English, etc. Therefore, within the proper dictates of chosen circa, one would not be limited to only English dress, (or French or Spanish or whoever), but could very well own something that is more common from another country's origins. Being that crews, were known to be mixed, one could wear a jacket or other article of clothing and be correct in doing so, IF found within the era involved. I made NO mention that things of incorrect bearing, should be used. In no way did I say that substituting an improbability should be used and backed by idle excuse. I take no offense, just caution that you may wish to truly read what I wrote afore trying to make assumptions as to what I was relaying. Faires are one thing, Living History another arena, altogether. Being that this subject is in "Twill", the subject matter at hand is accuracy, not what liberties might be taken in a faniciful environment.

Might I go so far as to interject. It seems to me that one should not have to limit their "portrayal" to the dictates of Bonny, nor that of Read. Though trial records state that both were dressed in male adornments, why should one have to base their clothing on etchings or woodcuts that are, like as not, just an artist's concept. Please correct me if I am wrong in this, but, if the afore mentioned were dressed as men, then their choice of adornments would fall under the dictates of what was common to Mariners....Be they English, Dutch, French, etc, etc. The whole stigma regarding "pirates dress this way" has always been of great irritation to me, being the fact that they were Mariners on the overall, (those not skilled included, of course). Therfore, there is no special dress code to the adornments of "pyratical wear" outside of those laid down by the common form of cladding worn by seafarers in general. Being that is the case, I would think it rather presumptuous to say that one would have to base their kit on Bonny or Read to be correct. And it would not be impossible for one to gain clothing from various points of the compass by way of thievery, purchase, trade, and so forth. As long as the adornments are of proper circa and reflect what was known amongst Mariners, then one would be well within their boundries no matter how they choose to mix and match clothing origin. To assume that those Bonny and Read etchings are accurate, is to say the coronation of the Sun King painted around 1701 is accurate, as well. Louis XIV succeeded his father in 1643....at the age of five. Tell me the artist in question did not take some liberties. Just my francs duex.....

She nodded in adult-like fashion of understanding, then offered a smile. Aurore closed the meager distance that lay between, aligning with the others. "Please, Jean...Allow me to take Megean so that you may ride. It is too far to travel afoot in these conditions."

Her founded cheeks bloomed carnation hue as she leaned in the saddle, gaining Sterling's hearing only. " I want to ride with you...Please, Sir."

Meagan's cherubic face squinched in concentration momentarily, then she reached one tiny hand towards Sterling to bring him nearer.

Aurore followed slowly behind Husband and Youngster, brow creased with concern at the former's choice of travel. If it had been Sabastian in his place, no thought would enter her mind, for brother had grown up taversing many a mile at vardo side...Andre' continued to do so in accompniment of cargo laden wagons, by choice. But Jean was not Romani, and she did not wish him undue angst with choice a gallantry. These were the things that rattled her mental chambers as she watched on and newest party member drew up alongside. Greetings were exchanged and the odd expression worn by Frenchman when looking upon Sterling did not go un-noted. Lucien spured mount forward, nodding to Sterling as pace was slowed to match Meagan's. He spoke quietly to the young girl then waited as she, in turn, addressed her Keeper. "Lucien offers that I double with him and allow you to ride, Sir."

**bump**

Lucien brought mount to canter, doffing wide brimmed chapeau with a smile cast to Meagan as he passed, "Bonjour, une Petit..." Youngster giggled then glanced quickly to Sterling. Rider and mount came to halt near Childermass, words were exchanged briefly then Lucien closed distance with small party turning lane end.

Lucien Debois wasted no time when called forth from those making inventory of damage sustained. The building had stood well against the onslaught; holding true as it had many times over in the past. In the three years that he had called Jamaica home, the return of tropical storm temperment still left him unsettled. Never had such ferocity washed over his native La Rochelle and in times such as these rencently passed, he oft times desired land of origin. Quiet by nature, and even more so due to his smallish grasp of English tongue, Lucien had gained comfort within the ranks of La Cour's siren lure. Calm bearing and intuitive reflex gained respect of his peers, his accuracy with shot and steel even more so. Favored mount was procured, debrise and wreckage becoming a game of speed and horsemanship as he raced to livery with breakneck pacing; slowing only when livery lane was rounded.

She admired his attentiveness to the small girl, Sterling's compassion and acceptance of one with no connection to himself drew a hinted smile to her lips. Moving within close proximity of Burke and Childermass, quick conversation was made; deductions aired and conclusions drawn. Neither man wished to leave the small party unescorted; Seth did not wish for Devon to return with report without re-enforcement. A storm was brewing within La Cour, one that might equal the tempest that just passed. Voices were kept low as opinions rounded the Trio then finally fell to silence. Seth drew near where Sterling held equine in check, "Tis not wise that ye travel the area alone...Not now. Tis a risky proposition, as ye may well be figuring. I think it not wise to travel back with us in the currents of present, either...." Reptillian gaze guaged Sterling closely, " Devon is going to retrive one o' the others to ride with ye. One tha' might no' be so readily missed, but would keep ye in safe company."

"Then I ask you to follow your heart. If it is home that you wish, I will not stand in your way of doing so. I will never make demands or request boons taxing to your happiness." Aurore's peripheral caught the cautious approach of Devon and Charge. "I shall abide with what you desire...."

She took a tenative step closer, watching the evolution of his carriage take place, "Please do not condemn Sabastian for his actions or judgements. He does so to assure my happiness and shall pay greatly for doing so...."

With finite scrutiny, she judged Sterling's posture and the tone of his words; considering his request with rapid deductions then moved into proximity of where he stood. Childermass had relaxed stance, but she was well aware that said appearance was very much the farce. Saying nothing, Aurore searched Sterling's expression, awaiting his reasoning for closer summons.

Again the olive pools tracked his movement, pausing observation to take in Seth's carriage, then returning to her husband. As his damning continuity rolled forth and ended in query, Aurore spoke once more in quiet tone that laid into stone the truth that all others within mix matched clan were well aware of... "Andre' would have never given consent....and will never accept you because you are Gadje..."

Deepest and heartfelt condolances to you and those that are close. Know that you are not alone and feel free to reach out for the support that is so willingly lended in this hour of sorrow. Blessings on you.

Aurore took the stinging assult of her husband's aquisation, adopting an expression of neutral bearing to cover what damage flung verbal barb had accomplished. Large pools of liquid olive tincture followed after his stride as length of livery was negotiated then recrossed in return; observed the lightning reflex of Childermass calling halt to further progression, then to the sludge of ground below. "Je ne mensonge..." Her words, but a whisper, wove the humidity laden air.

Childermass' arrival did not go unoticed by near far observers and as summary was brought to conclusion, Thief and Mistress approached with soft laid step. “So I can only assume that this Andre` is nought but another means of trouble for me. I cannot imagine why as, for the life of me, I cannot even remember ever making the acquaintance of one with such a name.” A hint of nervous amusement fleeted Devon's expression, but was quick to stifle as he halted two paces behind where Aurore drew standing. Her voice was low in reply to statement just issued by Husband, and was not without some tinge of unease. "Andre' is my brother....My eldest surviving brother...." Her words faded as wisp of smoke captured then dispersed in evening breeze; her gaze steady upon Husband's back as body language was gauged carefully. Childermass could be seen just beyond Sterling's standing, expression guarded. Burke stepped around on stealth refined tread, gathering Meagan to him, then took position further down the debrise strewn lane.

Devon considered what was asked of him, weighing against his original task. The atmosphere of the hours past in the shelter tugged at the corners of his mental facalties and an unconsciouce shudder played his lithe frame when turning to Andre'. A slow heavy exhalation was emitted in punctuation to what lay unsaid and he pardoned himself from the presence of much larger man, offering his arm to Aurore. The dark olive eyes searched the young Irishman's own quizzically, fleeted once to her husband then she interlocked proffered arm with a nod. Burke guided her carefully to a spot just out of earshot, then quietly explained the events having transpired in her absence. More than once the expressive pools of moss tincture travelled to where Sterling waited in near distance as relay was given; her features near stoic though cognative gears whirled in mental chambers. Deep concern etched the normally whimsical expression of her escort, and in response, empathy began to bathe her own. A second rider appeared from the direction Burke had traversed and the small party was joined, in turn, by the wraith-like being called Childermass. Seth followed suit of dismount, taking in the view of Aurore and Burke then joining Sterling. "Ye may, in near future, regret this return to land....Or at least the choice of this landfall...." Cocking his head slightly to the right, Seth trained reptile gaze on the Captain as if measuring factors. "Andre' has returned..."

Sterling's query drew her attention away from survey at hand. The dark olive eyes radiated hinted pensive qualities as fleeted glance was directed to his face, then away. There lay a shadow of something over his expression that carried airs of disappointment and a subtle sadness; it whispered in undercurrent when he spoke and gave further evidence in his body language. Aurore stole another apprehensive glimpse of his carriage and as her lips parted to answer, the words caught mid passage with the sound of nearing horse and rider. Navigating through the carnage of debris and much left in the wake of tempest greed, familiar visage drew near then dismounted. Devon Burke's quick sights evaluated the general surround as if judging the overall feel of proximity. Keeping reins clasped in one had, shallow bow was proffered in greeting, whimsical expression glossed over with the effects of long hours spent awake without cessation for rest. Relief floated within intelligent eyes with the fleet survey of La Cour's bijou being safe and sound. Centering moved away to horse and carriage, conjuring forth a small furrow upon youthful brow. " Ye won' be gettin' far in tha' rig, Cap'n...Ye would find it a wee bit o' challenge on horseback alone, true as true may be...." The Irishman gave no manner of sarcasms in observation, simply well founded truth. His near standing mount's condition verified actuality.