'Bastian Devareaux

I came upon this while doing research and have yet to make it through the list of sites. It seemed a rather nice gathering of vendors. Enjoy! http://www.geocities.com/steampunkfashion/index.htm (My apologies, you might have to "cut and paste" the addy.) I might have to break down and buy one of these... http://www.larp-fashion.de/shop/images/5127.jpg ....That is unless I can find the replica pattern.

How wonderous strange!!!! To those new and old which wish to take on this venture, I wish you "Bon Chance!" Perhaps I might find time away from my pursuit of Jurisprudence to stir the waters a bit this summer. College is such a cruel and wanting mistress to court. To those new to the ways of Port Royal, all I can say is ..."Come on in. The water is fine....."

assault

Cheap Trick

You have heard correctly, my dear, but the libation you wish for is up to yourself. If I were to misjudge and order you something that you would prefer not....Best if you make the choice. And the gentleman in question has not reapeared. C'est la vie...

resturant

Then be not cheerful. It is your own choice after all. I on the other hand, much prefer the joys and plairs that life has to offer in so many tantalizing ways. Raises glass in salute and hint of smirk A round for the house, says I!!

Devareaux is pissing and moaning about my behavior Truly...Never in a day, frere. I was simply explaining to the gentleman that you have always had bark and bite...Though it seems a bit more common in the past recent. No guantlet thrown, nor malicious speaking..If that had been mine intent I would have been much more clear and used King's English...Besides, of what good would it do me to try to glamour my thoughts in French...You can dechipher if, well enough. But, I see no raison to split hairs...or hares, for that matter. Do have a bottle of refined fire on mine coin and be a proper fellow...Or at least a cheerful one.

Dawn's bright inspiration slowly gave way to the more subtle hues of late morn; and that more washed out light pried gently the boundaries of heavy cloth barrier hang. Assuring that she was comfortably tucked in ticking support and surround, Dauphin had found sleep elusive and efforts being cast away, he had retired to near standing chair and spirit drown. It was in this capacity that sleep had finally come and such capacity proved unkind when wakefulness tugged insistent for its time in court. Laden eye lids rose hesitant to mind's command, movement of head sallied forth the boon of cricks and aches of long time posture. Cursing under breath, Sabastian sat more upright to the chorus of muscle and joint angst; dark eyes cast about the chamber's encompassment. Leaning forward to body's protest, attention fell on sleeping form; hearing taking in the soft pattern of breath as it made inward, then outbound journey. The hour had been quite late when the back entrance of Dancing Steer was breeched. In all truth, the Royal Grace would have been closer accommodation, but Sabastian did not wish to be disturbed. Generally, this private holding was used for the negotiations of business away from Elder's pry; its general existence downplayed greatly from that of preferred posh chambers held at afore mentioned Inn. Far more spartan in furnishing and decor, this room was comfortable, none the less. Moving away from chair-become-bed, Dauphin debated the request for morning nourishment from kitchen below. There was a smallish amount of hunger clawing at his core, but would it be wise to acquire full portions and spread when the heavy scents of such might not be agreeable to inert form in the middle distance? Pursing his lips at mental deliberation and quandary, he decided it might not be the wisest of choices. Heavy drapery was pushed slightly aside, allowing the merest invasion of outward light; all was well in The Port this bright morn...Or so it would seem. The usual dance of scurry here, scurry there, was in full whirl and he watched the throng with mild interest before returning cloth to original stance. Navigating the dim, a petit draught of brandy was procured and seating chosen at small table near hearth's edge. As fiery sampling was imbibed, the thought occurred to him that the last time he had sat in this very place was for the clandestine wedding of sister; before that of pomp and circumstance church event. Remainder of glass content was downed, the burn causing unconscious wince, and youthful brow gave forth mild crease in answer to thought progression. Suddenly feeling a great weight upon his shoulders, glass was refilled and its content surveyed; amber fluid taunting silently. There were reckonings to be dealt with and innocents to guard; glass was emptied with swift movement. Exhaling heavily, dark sights slid back to sleeping form and lingered as time slipstreamed from present to past.

As you wish, Mademoisselle and merci.

Point taken and acknowledged, Mademoisselle McDonough. As for libation, do allow me the pleasure of purchasing your own as well as mine...An olive branch, as it were. I am of the mind and craving for fine brandy, the best this house has to offer. Order what ever it might be that suites your want, the coin is mine to pay.

I do beg your forgivness, Mademoisselle McDonough...I forget myself. What was said, without overmuch detail, was a proper welcome in Monsieur's native speech....For the most part, that is. I assure you that it was not ment to confuse those not familliar with its ways.

Je vous ai souhaité la bienvenue, monsieur. Il est toujours avec plaisir que je fais l'aquaintance de chez moi le sol. Flourished doffing of hat with polite bow is offered. Je vous mendie pardonnent à mon frère dans la loi... Sidelong glance is cast to Sterling in brief. Il était toujours assez facile de déclencher... Mais, a augmenté ainsi depuis le départ de ma soeur de cet avion terrestre. Et pardonnez-moi aussi pour mon manque de manières. Mon nom est Sabastian Devareaux et bien que je me trouve rarement dans le fait de confiner de cette région particulière, je suis incapable de nier la demande de Mlle Ransom d'introductions nécessaires. Seating is taken next to Ransom,Salut, ma petit...

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "otherwise you wouldn't have come here." Alice didn't think that proved it at all: however she went on. "And how do you know that you're mad?" "To begin with," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?" "I suppose so," said Alice "Well, then, " the Cat went on, "you see a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad." ( I just could not help myself....It seemed so befitting on the over-all...)

Thank you, ever so much Madame Bess. It is needless to say that release dates have been rumored to exist for years. Having heard, yet again, that such was to take place left me...shall we say, skeptical? Being that it is yourself confirming release, I can rest assured that finally there is validity to the claim. So all that remains is the long wait to find conclusion with greatened anticipation. Merci beaucoup, cherie!!

Hint of uncertainty furrowed Dauphin's brow at names called and glance was tossed towards Christophe briefly before returning to charge. Reply to her final statement was rendered as quizzical arch of one brow; he had found the scent in question rather appeasing, but made mental note of her distaste on the subject. Raising to stand, chin was inclined towards Sean who retreated to courtyard beyond with the closure of door. Sabastian offered a smallish bow to Lord and Lady, daring glint swimming depth of dark sights, "It seems that our little soire' has come to a close. I dare say it has been a most interesting evening, but all good things must come to closure eventually..." He paused to extend a hand towards Lover, " Mademoisselle appears to be worn from all the excitement, so it is only proper that I should attend her wishes for departure. Perhaps we shall have the pleasure of each other's company again in the near future...." A mischievous expression glossed angled features.

A pin's freefall and landing upon lush Turkish rug could have been heard as mixed reaction sallied forth with Dutchess command. Irishman at portal proxy was mouth agape to said charge; Frenchman glowered to the rough handling and Rom Dauphin was in some glamour of bemusment when Madame struck beloved with serious intent. It was a Carnival of the Dumbstruck which gave face as she made quite clear her want. The Dumbstruck who metamorphisised into school boys hastily doing as were told with fumbled movement. His Lordship's comment fell upon deaf ears as all eyes kept steady note of Lady Cunningham's person. Dauphin backed away with precious burden until edge of chaise was felt at calf touch. Making quick survey of surrounds, charge was laid upon expensive surface; oil of lavender rising with waft of linen disturbance. Down to one knee, Sabastian gave trust to Christophe's being and spoke words just above whisper to near unconscious hearing; words that pleaded removal of sleep's veil, words to drive back Morpheus' hold...

Dauphin looked past antagonist to where Sean remained and with slight incline of chin, addressed off handedly, "Monsieur Roberts, you are a wagering man; as most of your blood are. Is this not a truth?" The Irishman's brow furrowed briefly, "Aye. tis a truth." "Very well. Then do tell me, if one were to say that the gentleman before me would be successful with pistol intention, would you wager for or against ?" Sean considered briefly before answering query, "I would be one to wager agains' it. Tha' big fella would be more likely to hit the gerl or the mantle than yerself judgin' from the flinter he's aimin'." Sabastian pursed his lips, gauging Antagonist, "Well put, and I dare say that I would wager the same said way..." He locked eyes with the other, "So what shall it be? Do you wish to tempt Fate? And if you were successful with your single shot, do you relish the explination that shall be demanded of you from mademoisselle?" Though his composure was cool, Sabastian's patience were dwindling. He was beginning to tire of the Mental Chess game this night; the amusements long passed. What he desired was the privacy and comfort of four posted citadel where much needed rest might be procured. He thought that his "charge" might well agree with such notion. Irritation was building in Dauphin's inner core. An irritation that was quite subtle, but those who knew him well would recognize the signs brewing. Christophe's position kept him in the semi-blind, but Sean's view was unobstructed. And in that view, he gleaned what was to become unsettling if not brought to bay. Whisperings late in the night had said that Andre' was much his Father's son and Sabastian more his Mother's. But every now and again nuances more known of the Elder would show in the Younger. In those rare times, the aftermaths were not recomended for those faint of heart...

Christophe bristled to the Moor's demand and held ground without waver. Near chamber door, Sean Roberts kept vigil with pistol at arm's legnth; bidding time for the need of fizzen action. As verbal whirlwind stoked and harried parlor's surround, Beggar Prince held rule within the eye of storm craddling lover's form; his focus narrowed and centered upon the large Nubian. Angled features gave nothing in neutral poise, yet the cold fire that raged in deep chocolate waters emphisized what former did not. His was the embodiment of some dangerous exotic creature, unhurried with the concerns of vorpal reaction; assured that when and if such action were needed, victory would be his...And his alone. As if the whirlwind of threat was of little concern, Sabastian readjusted his hold on Lover's flacid being; gently pushing aside a nomad forelock of hair from her brow. A glance was cast to where his own kept placement, then to where Nubian menace claimed place in the arena. "Non..." The single announcement was given with undertone purveying no room for negotiation. "I should see you and myself in Hell before fulfilling your want...You have born the reason she is here and I will not trust your judgment further. A wise man would let me and mine pass unhindered...." A feral smile brushed Dauphin's lips. "An un-wise man shall pay the Devil his due..."

Silly, silly...Too silly!

Dauphin pursed his lips, all effort of farce melting from expression and replaced readily; feral glint came quick to darkened sights and nod of mock courtesy was given. "As you wish, Madame. For I only aim to....please." The last word dripped of exotic temptations. He stared boldly upon Lady Cunningham's person while addressing Lord, "You are quite astute in your observations, Monsieur. Do take care to measure the ground you tread upon before making further conjectures. Regardless of what you know or do not, what services we provide are quite far reaching and there are those that willingly partake that could make your existence rather uncomfortable within rank and file. Be of intelligence and do not force mine hand." Christophe moved forward, gathering what had been set for display then backed two paces to the left of Dauphin's standing. Allowing veiled threat and its possible outcomes to sink in, Sabastian extended hand to Ransom while keeping sight trained on Elders, "Your niece has readily stated her wants and thinkings. I prefer to see her wishes fulfilled...In fact I insist on such."

Bravo, my dear. You look grand, as always!!

So absorbed in the action at hand, it took a moment to realize that his opinion was called on. Straightening posture and flicking a wee tad of lint from azure adornment, Sabastian inclined chin just so, then looked to where Lady Cunningham stood in livid granduer. He seemed to allow time its' wayward pace as if caught in some private musing before giving over to comment with good natured ease, "The offer still stands, I have no interest in it being otherwise."

siesta

Dauphin remained focused on aristocrats as door opened. To his thinking, it was more than likely Preston or another of his station returning and if not, Christophe was near to rectify any other doings. The sounding of voice clarified quickly that it was none such and he turned without hurry to train on vocal origin. It was another type of smile that fought to gain ground for the world to see and lover's comment was just as he would have imagined her concocting under given circumstance. Immediately the drawing of battle lines ensued, the shrill conjuring slight raise of brow from Gitan Princeling and a narrowing of eye from French companion. Lord Cunningham's statement went half noticed as Sabastian followed "Alexandra's" movements and vocalizations with the attentiveness of side line audience to vorpal fencing match. In his thinkings, it appeared that the advantage swayed with pendulum motion, never quite settling favor on one or the other as opponents squared firm....Or so it would seem until bold movement of crystal capture and the words that were flung with precision, doing well to heighten Violet's color as retort was let fly. In times such as this, a wise man stays clear of feminine melee; biding his own until things seem to be turning for the worse and the possibility of blood letting might occur…And even then it is sometimes best to steer clear until one, the other, or both are down. Such silent understanding and accord was shared betwixt male witnesses. Could it be called cowardice? Far from it. Rather an intelligent choice of self preservation... Or perhaps idle amusement.