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"Who said I wanted an Angel? Tudor said quietly, with a furtive glance at Armand. "Armand-Gabriel, eh? I like it . . ." She refocused her attention on Antoine and smiled coyly. "So he's a savage? That's quite an allegation to make towards a friend. You'll have to enlighten me as to why you say such things if I am to decided which region has more merit."

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The former Lancier was mid draught of the newest round as Miss Tudor made her jibe. He swallowed quickly to prevent dousing his two companions as a result of laughing. Eyeing her closely, he grinned with sly condentation, " Oh dear mademoiselle...You have never been to France then to know the local flavor..." he said with mock seriousness.

" It is well known that those of Gascogne are the most untamed and uncivilized of people. The only others that come close are the damned Corsicans....Where as, we of Northern regions are far more genteel in our ways. So much more pleasant in company."

Antoine glance to Armand, who rolled his eyes in response before looking to Tudor. " And it is known that those of the North are famous in their ability to lie."

The Lancier offered a look of false indignation at the comment.

"See, Mademoiselle Smith...see how they are. It is a shame..."

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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Tudor laughed gently. "I spent a year and a half in frace. In both North and South, and the only diffrence I found was the accent." She quipped quietly looking into her mug. She then looked up mischeviously. "You'll both have to prove to me that you can live up to your reputations." She smiled at Antoine, but then looked questioningly at Armand, almost a challenge in her features.

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The Gascon noted how the shared spirits were seeming to induce bravery to her words and manner. Glancing out the window to ensure that all was well on the lane, he returned his attention to Miss Smith.

"Prove, mademoiselle?" A slyed look to Antoine showed a hint of smirk.

"Prove?" Antoine echoed, " And what is there to prove? Valor? Tenacity? Loyalty....Passion?"

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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"Passion must always be proved, gentlemen." Tudor said with a quiet smile. "For many's a man who claimed passion, yet had none. Or worse still, claimed none and had much." She barely even looked at Armand, focusing her attention seemingly on Antione, but with an unsure slowness, she gently ran her fingers up the side of his leg closest to her own under the table, her hand coming to a rest at his thigh. "As for loyalty, tenacity and valor," She said, not daring to look away from Antoine for fear of seeing Armand's expression, "They need not to be proved, just witnessed."

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Armand kept a neutral expression as the brush of fingers ran their course, as Antoine nodded in approval to her wordings.

"Magnifique, Mademoiselle Smith! You speak with thoughts beyond your years. Consider me..." his brow knit briefly, "Merde'!....Je suis a' votre disposition. You will pardon, oui. I am not is clever with Anglais as our friend here."

The Gascon smiled warmly at his old aquaint, and with casual air draped his left arm across the back of Tudor's chair, " Oui, they are words of wisdom."

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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Tudor nodded kindly to Antoine. "My french is passable Monsieur. And you are very kind." She prayed that Armand would not notice that her posture was much straighter since she felt his arm brush past her shoulders. "I learned philosophy with some of the greatest minds on the continent." She continued to speak. "But I simply claim as I find . . .I . . ." She felt the old habit of nervous talking coming on and so silenced herself quickly, and allowed herself a glance at Armand, trying to gage his expression. She couldn't read him, and it bothered her. What was going on behind those grey eyes? Just to see if there would be reaction, she started to gently trace patterns on his thigh.

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Having finished my time in the basket on evening past this mornings revelries were the damn sea birds afore dawns open mouthed yawn. Thousands upon thousands of birds did fly overhead waking me and the ships entirety I was certain. I dressed and went over to the galley where I did find a most wondrous lady there already with water boiling and scones in the oven I filled a cup of coffee sat down and decided to bless this womans resolve in that no one ever volunteers in service or ship. God bless you Meg, I should liken to take over your charge upon your need, so say when won't you? I sipped again adding 'Your coffee, its very good"

Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a knife in your back.

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Jack had risen early, and spent the wee hours taking inventory of the Armoury, including the scant weapons contributed by the newcomers. He paused to look again at the massive Claymore that Mr. Hawks had so masterfully restored. A fit blade for William Wallace himself, and sure to be a comfortable fit for our newly-freed friend.

He closed his ledger, and finished his list of supplies that the ship would need to remained well-heeled. Powder, shot, wadding, oil, and a fresh whetstone. He'd vet the list with the Quartermaster to procure the needed funds, but that would wait for later in the day.

Jack folded the list and tucked it into his coat pocket, snuffed the lamp, and locked the door to the Armoury behind him. The heady smell of fresh coffee wafted down to him, and he followed it to the always warm and comfortable galley.

Yo ho ho! Or does nobody actually say that?

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" Then mademoiselle, I say that you are as a fine jewel and should be coveted as that." Antoine smiled warmly at her. The deep blue sight shifted at the notice of movement outside the window and his smile shifted ever so slightly to a hint of predatory stance. The Gascon glanced sidelong to notice a young local girl pass by and chuckled. It was with great concentration, that he kept his focus centered against Tudor's recent play of boldness and in the midst of her newest ploy, Antoine finished the last of tankard's offering.

" It is with regret that I must leave you both. The sky tells me it must be nearing mid-afternoon and I must return to the ship." Reaching for the crutch leaning nearby, he stood and offered Miss Smith a small bow.

" Mademoiselle, I am honoured to have made your aquaintence. Armand, you must come for a meal aboard. We shall be in port for two more days before steering for the coast then back to La Desirade. Mademoiselle, please feel free to join that Southern dog if he comes to visit me."

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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She smiled as he left, not noticing Armand's distraction. "He seems very nice. A kind man, I'd say. . . though he would want a rumor like that to get around I don't think." She said with a small laugh, and for the first time since coming ashore, she got up the courage to look Armand straight in the eyes. The glint in the grey eyes unnerved her, just a little. "I . . ." She tried to continue speaking, but then realised words were no longer capable of coming out of her mouth. She looked at him qizzically, not breaking eye contact, and her hand slowed almost to no movement . "I . . ." She tried again to no avail.

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The Gascon guaged her bearing, " Oui, he is cut of the finest cloth and it is good to see him in good humor dispite life's ironies."

He cocked a brow slightly to her stammer, "Que? What is it that has you troubled so, ma cheri? It cannot be as bad as all that..."

Removing his arm from chair back, he gently covered her hand with his own and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Life is like a grand offering of meal and wine. It should be savored as such, with no guilt and no looking back."

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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She took a deep breath and looked at his hand covering hers. "Of course. Looking back, means turning your back. Never turn you back . . .what's done is done, and there will be no changing it . . ." She paused and swallowed. "It's just that . . . I don't know . . . life is easier in the books, I think. In the books and on the battlefields . . ."

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He turned in his chair to face her, removing his hand from hers, reached to cradle her chin gently, "Non, ma cheri...Life is never easy on the battlefield, never at all."

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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She smiled a little. "What I mean to say is, at least on a battlefield I know my right from my main gauche . . . whereas in lo . . in other things, I turn into a bumbling, blushing idiot who barely remeber her own name and trips over things just by looking at them." She blinked twice. "I'm not sure I know how the two sides are in one person. I . . . I don't know . . ." She paused and looked at Armand intently. "I don't know." She said pointedly, a double entendre layering the words.

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" Then perhaps mademoiselle...it is bravery that you lack on the...field."

Removing his hand from its hold of her chin, Armand reached for tankard and smiled slyly. Tipping the tankard in salute to her, he said one word.

"Chargez."

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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"T'is not cowardice . . . mearly caution." She laughed at the sly, mischevious look he shot her. "One does not attack before one knows one's enemies." She laughed at her words, thinking how silly they sounded. "Once all angles are assessed, then move in for the kill." By know she was in a fit of giggles as no one on the crew had ever seen before. "But I'm a defenisve commander. Wait for them to make the first move." She took his tankard from in front of him, her own empty and took a swig. "I have set the challenge, and know I wait for the attack."

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Finishing the draught he looked at her closely.

" And what, Mademoiselle Smith, do you know of your advesary or the...angles?

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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Having finished my time in the basket on evening past this mornings revelries were the damn sea birds afore dawns open mouthed yawn. Thousands upon thousands of birds did fly overhead waking me and the ships entirety I was certain. I dressed and went over to the galley where I did find a most wondrous lady there already with water boiling and scones in the oven I filled a cup of coffee sat down and decided to bless this womans resolve in that no one ever volunteers in service or ship. God bless you Meg, I should liken to take over your charge upon your need, so say when won't you? I sipped again adding 'Your coffee, its very good"

"Good morning, Sir," she greeted cheerily. "You're too kind," Meg added in regards to the coffee. She offered the man a scone. "Lazarus is a much better cook. Do you know if he's made any progress?" She watched Diego hoping he'd have good news to tell her.

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I went by the infirmery yesterday to see him and there were no answer then I went to me cabin to nap before my shift on eves past where I went on me bell only to find while It was I were below he was up on the quarterdeck with the surgeon Tempest. I guess he's ok if he's up and about I should liken to have you maybe stop over and say hey if you would that is ifin you'd like me to take over there? Though I won't be lyin to you its a nice respit to be sittin.

Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a knife in your back.

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"Nothing - but I am a quick study . . ."

The Gascon chuckled at her eagerness as he glanced to the window opening and noticing the Quartermaster's approach, looked to the heavens to gage the approximate time of day. Being that he had been present for the Castillian's meeting aboard the Watch Dog, Armand assumed that return aboard was drawing near. He would gladly offer his blade to Captain Brand's service in escort, but the impression was that the frigate's Master wished to go alone to the Don.

The seriousness of said subject brought his thoughts back to the information that Antoine had relayed. The ramifications would impact him directly if the predictions were correct.

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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::The QuarterMaster did much trading and haggling through the time they were ashore... He turned the cargo of goods into necessary equipment and specie... he was even able to procure two brass 3pdr and two brass 4pdr cannon which to outfit the "Patricia" with... As daylight was turning to dusk, he finished... the guards who were set to guard cargo, were now guarding a chest of specie on the cutter and it was time to be headed back to the ship. He headed to the cantina that Ms. Smith, Armand, and his long time friend had retired to. He walked in and spotted the two Stewards at a table, Armand's friend nowhere in sight... So, he ambled to the bar, ordered a meal and a pint of the local swill... he then walked to the table with his shipmates....::

Halloo... m'business be done fer th' day... a'ter I finish this 'fine' meal, we be 'eaded back ta th' ship... n' then Cap'n'l be comin' ashore... If ye ha'n't yet, here's some coin, get a landside meal afore we depart....

Truly,

D. Lasseter

Captain, The Lucy

Propria Virtute Audax --- In Hoc Signo Vinces

LasseterSignatureNew.gif

Ni Feidir An Dubh A Chur Ina Bhan Air

"If I whet my glittering sword, and mine hand take hold on judgment; I will render vengeance to mine enemies, and will reward them that hate me." Deuteronomy 32:41

Envy and its evil twin - It crept in bed with slander - Idiots they gave advice - But Sloth it gave no answer - Anger kills the human soul - With butter tales of Lust - While Pavlov's Dogs keep chewin' - On the legs they never trust... The Seven Deadly Sins

http://www.colonialnavy.org

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