Jump to content

Port Royal, Jamaica


sirhenrymorgan

Recommended Posts

As I sipped my drink, the man named March had approached me and made me and offer.

"Here these are for you, and if you want to help there's more." He whispered in my ear as he pressed two coins in my hand, "if you can find what’s going on the Rakehell, report back to me, I'm aboard the Archangel." Without waiting for a reply he was off.

"So do I draw myself further into this mess? So far it’s been fairly profitable."

I mused through my brew. "The Rakehell, no I can't go there. Can't risk meeting that capt'n again. Maybe Ioan can help?"

"No I saw how he looked at me. Full of angst towards me." I thought when I drained my tankard. "I need some fresh air." I announced under my breath. With that I strolled out the door.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 3.2k
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

"Hold ye accountable?  Nay, tis only my father that I hold accountable but I've learned over the years never to heed his advice nor follow his example."

“That retched man!” Tess said looking for the lamp upon her writing table. “He shattered all our dreams, didn’t he?” Sterling now staying back into the shadows said nothing in return. “Oh, where is my head.” Tess said jokingly. “I’ll have this room illuminated in just a few ticks. Then I we can have a proper conversation.” With that she struck a match and lit the lamp. The room filled with a warm soft glow as Tess adjusted the flame. As she turned around once more to the Captain, it was then she was started by what she saw. She quickly gasped, moving her hand to her mouth to stop her from crying out. “What in God’s name happened?!” She said as the words finally came to her lips.

Sterling looked at her, momentarily confused by her remark. "What happened? Tess after all this time, surely ye realize twas not my father that broke our arrangement but myself. Surely ye do not think I could ever marry a woman such as you?"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"What happened? Tess after all this time, surely ye realize twas not my father that broke our arrangement but myself. Surely ye do not think I could ever marry a woman such as you?"

Tess could only shake her head in complete shock. “No…that is not what I meant. You…your face, John; what happened to your eye?”

Link to comment
Share on other sites

He fell quiet for a moment. Most people took little notice of his injury. True Cate had made a tremendous fuss over it, but he had grown so used to it that it no longer mattered to him. Still he laughed to himself.. it made complete sense to him that Tess would be appaled.

"I lost the use of it whilst in Algiers. But never ye fret none, Tess. Before I was ransomed and made my way back to England, I made sure I gave back in return to the man who did it... I reckon I was long gone, with his scimitar in hand, before any one would notice him even missing... But now Lady, I've not come to discuss my disfigurement nor old times... so ye force me to repeat myself, why are you in Port Royal?"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Bess Hagarty sat next to the hearth as she mended a pair of her Uncles stockings. She soon felt very comfortable by the warmth of the fire. Her eyes began to droop and the sensation of nodding off came over her, only for her to quickly snap awake and tend to her darning again. It was then she heard foot steps coming down the back stairway. She quickly placed down her darning, wiped her face with her apron, and tucked a loose piece of her pitch black hair under her cap. As the figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs she was surprised to see it was Mr. Davis.

“I’ve come to fetch hot water for the Doctor and Mistress McKinney.” He explained to her. Looking a bit lost for he did not expect to find her about the kitchen at this hour of the day.

“I shall fetch it for you. That is, if you don’t mind waiting for it to boil?” She said with a smile. She quickly gathered up the jug and looked back at Mr. Davis as she filled the kettle. “No, that is quite all right. I shall wait for it.” He said again, but this time glancing at her form. “Is the Mistress ill?” Asked Bess as she pulled out one of the rod iron arms from the hearth. “I fear she is not feeling her best.” Bess looked concern as she uncorked the jug and placed it upon the table. “What’s your name, Sir?” She said with a soft smile.

Bessbeingcalledout.jpg

Bess Hagarty - Indentured Servant

Link to comment
Share on other sites

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..."

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.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

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.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

But now Lady, I've not come to discuss my disfigurement nor old times... so ye force me to repeat myself, why are you in Port Royal?"

He waited as Tess studied his face, still ignoring his question. Sterling paced away from her then wheeled about...

"Damnation woman, tis not a hard question! Answer me or I'll spit ye where ye stand!"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Business?" Sterling scoffed. "And what might the nature of that be?"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

Link to comment
Share on other sites

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.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

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.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Tess watched the vain in the Captain’s forehead become bigger as he once again pressed the question to her. “All right then, if you must know, I was seeking out Reggie Killingsworth. I was told that he had left England some time ago and landed here. I must find him and return to London soon. You see, my father doesn’t like me to travel too far from home.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Tess watched the vain in the Captain’s forehead become bigger as he once again pressed the question to her.  “All right then, if you must know, I was seeking out Reggie Killingsworth.  I was told that he had left England some time ago and landed here.  I must find him and return to London soon.  You see, my father doesn’t like me to travel too far from home.

Sterling rolled his eyes.

"You still lie as well as ever."

He moved closer to her. "Yer cousin is dead and most likely at yer own hands as he was seen coming into yer safe keeping very much alive! If I had proof of this I would kill ye right now, right here where ye stand. Ye can thank God Almighty that I don't, but some how I will find what I need to have you hanged properly for what you've done and until I do, I'll warn ye now... stay away from Mistress McKinney and my son! If ye don't, what happened to Reggie will pale in comparion to what I do to you!"

He stepped back from her and gave a mock bow. "M'lady St. Claire. I am getting married on the morrow and it pleases me to say, yer kisses are still worth..." he turned to leave then added, "missing!" as he walked out the door.


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Ulises eyes didn’t move from their position in Striker’s back for some time. He absorbed every gesture, every movement that his prey made. As the table occupants dwindled Ulises relaxed his constant vigil. Thoughtfully he drank from the thick ale before him. Striker was obviously ailing from the previous nights attack. His motions were slow and deliberate. Ulises could almost see the heavy breaths the man took as he struggled with the pain. At first Ulises had cursed his clumsy crewman for only wounding Striker, but he was rather enjoying seeing the man suffer. As the young woman returned with a fresh pitcher Striker’s consciousness flagged. He collapsed heavily, caught by the quick hands of his men. There was a flurry of activity around the table for a moment as the ailing captain was revived. The two other men supported him as he stood on shaky legs, the woman scurrying about like a mouse, gathering and adjusting things the way woman did. Ulises smiled slyly. There was no question in his mind where they would be going. The captain obviously needed time to recuperate and what better place than in the lavish surrounds of a fine Spanish ship.

Ulises rose from his table in the dark corner, gliding unnoticed out the rear door. His long stride brought him swiftly through the muddy alley. As he rounded the corner of the tavern he caught sight of the quartet, stumbling up the gray street towards the north docks. He followed at a distance, the others oblivious to his presence. Ulises paused at the end of the sturdy dock, his eyes settling on the beautiful features of La Maligna. He was over come with a wave of anger, wanting nothing more than to board her & slaughter the Danish interlopers. As he drew closer his control returned. Ulises knew that only time and careful planning would ensure his success. He would stand for nothing less than a full victory. As he passed the galleon his dark sight never drifted, continuing to follow her larboard curve until the last moment before he disappeared down the dock

"If part of the goods be plundered by a pirate the proprietor or shipmaster is not entitled to any contribution." An introduction to merchandize, Robert Hamilton, 1777

Slightly Obsessed, an 18th Century reenacting blog

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Tess lent back in her seat as the Captain chine her for her poor excuse for lying. As the verbal attack continued she realized that his threats were real enough. “You plan to do what upon the marrow?!” She said trying to focus on the last bit of his conversation. “Who is this woman you plan to marry?! What are you saying…you no longer are interested in that whore? And what of your child? Do you plan to snatch him from that woman and raise it as your own? I cannot believe you, John. Do not insult me for my actions. You are still the laughing stock of London. If you had a brain in your head you’d make the right decision and marry me. I can give you title, power, position! Don’t be the fool, we don’t really have to consumate the marriage, John. We can just have an understanding.”

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sterling paused at the head of the stairs.

"I have come to an agreement with Mistress McKinney regarding my son. Remember Tess, one hair on his head goes astray.... "

He took a deep breath and calmed himself as he started down the steps.

"As to whom I shall marry, all yer titles and wealth could never raise you to the place she has come to fill in my heart. As to her name, I would be a fool to tell the likes of you until after I have consumated the marriage... and I intend to over and over again, as many times as she shall have me and if all London laughs? Let them... let the whole world laugh for all I care! For in spite of all their merriment at my expense, they shall never be as happy as this girl makes me!"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

Link to comment
Share on other sites

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.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

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.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sterling trotted into the common room, a broad smile on his face. He quickly made his way to the bar.

"Give me one of yer best port," he said, placing more than enough coin on the bartop. "I am getting married tomorrow to the most wonderful girl in Port Royal... " he suddenly shook his head. "Make that the world!"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Lilly looked up at the Doctor as he wiped away the blood on her arm. “The letting will do you a bit of good. Now try and get some rest, Mistress.” Lilly tried to focus on his face but the tea in which he gave to her now, began to take its’ affect on her. The room slowly swayed back and forth, like the soft rhythm of a ship upon the great ocean. “Where is my Captain?” Said Lilly slurring her words as her eyes began to slowly close and her breathing fell to a shallow breath. Reiley looked down her at for a moment, concerned that he may have administered a bit too much of the tea. “I am sure that he is safely back in Port Royal and is on his way back to the Inn as we speak.” She let out a small moan of discontentment. “Oh…how I have failed him…and now he wishes me gone from his side. I love him…I love….him.” Then Lilly finally nodded off into a deep sleep. The Doctor looked down at her for the moment, covering her with the bed linen and making sure that she was comfortable. “Damn fools…the both of them. They are so blind to the fact, yet…” With a sigh he blew out the light next to the bed and left Lilly to sleep in peace.

photo-2975.jpg?__rand=0.71617700+1286403
Member of "The Forsaken"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"And a pipe if ye please," Sterling added as the drink was placed before him. He took a sip as the man went off to fill the rest of his request. He closed his eyes as he swallowed, savouring the sweet taste as the liguid warmed his tongue and throat. By God, he was weary, but even if he had the time he knew he could not find the ability to sleep for a spell. He downed the glass as the pipe was brought round.

"Another," he said. Then with a toss of his head, added, "and one for the old goat about to tip his chair backward." Again he waited and then, as the two glasses were set before him, he gave a nod of his head in thanks, took the drinks up and moved himself over to where Childermass sat.

"Mayhaps not yer usual," he said, setting one glass down on the table next to Childermass. He picked up a chair, turned it about and straddled it as if riding a horse then lifted his glass. "To Aurore, God bless her!" He paused as Childermass eyed him as if he had lost his mind.

"Come, come, ye know we English have a thing for toasts. And who better deserves one?" He leaned across and touched the lip of glass to the one purchased for the other man. A dull clink produced by such action brought a smile to Sterling's face. "Glad I am to find ye here. Bodyguard and chaperone, what?"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

Link to comment
Share on other sites

As the ship rocked gently at its new mooring, I stared at my reflection in an ornate mirror—pillaged from the French brig along with the arms and powder hidden below—and wondered how I should present myself this evening. Should I dress demurely, and give an impression of false weakness? Should I dress more masculine, hiding every sign of my femininity? Hard to make a decision, when I didn't know who I would be dealing with—maybe for my very life.

I cursed my hesitation. Why be any different than I always was, a haphazzard mix of the two? "God's teeth, Ransom," I voiced to my relection. "You've held your own for six long years against all that's been thrown against you. This will be no different!"

With a shrug and a low laugh, I exchanged my worn ship's clothing, for men's breeches, brocade bodice—with its secret sheath holding a throwing knife between my breasts, lace-trimmed shirt, and plain frock coat. I pulled back my hair and tied it with black ribbon, then adjusted the tri-corn Goose had rejuvenated after the bar brawl so many days ago. Into my belt, from which hung my rapier, I tucked a pistol. Lastly, I added my favorite bits of purloined jewelry, which included a very fine necklace with a pendant emerald set in rose-gold. "Well, that should confuse them." With one last adjustment of my hat, I went up on deck.

All hands stopped their work to stare.

I glared. "Keep your jaws dropped like that, and you'll end up swallowing every bug in Port Royal." I turned to Jimmy Cox. "Get a boat in the water. I have a meeting to attend."

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

Link to comment
Share on other sites

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."

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

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.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"And why should I not be?" Sterling said with a grin. He took another sip then placed the port upon the table then rubbed at his eyes before he took up the pipe, packed its bowl and lit its contents with the nearest candle. He puffed several times, the thick gray smoke circling about his head, clinging to the dampness of his wig and hat.

"Would ye care for one as well?" he asked. He drew on the tabacco once more, than leaned back a bit, exhaling several smoke rings. "By God today has been difficult to say the least. What a whirl wind. And tis still not over... but," he said tapping the back of the chair on which sat, with the stem of his pipe. "Tonight shall make all this headache well worth it all." He traded pipe once more for port and downed the remainer of the glass. "One more," he said. "And then I shall follow ye back to the bookshop to collect my bride." He chuckled a moment, the heavy wine, quickly fogging his all too tired brain. "Actually that would be the other way round, would it not? I mean ye following me... oh best ye walk alongside I reckon. I am grateful fer yer watchful eye."


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

Link to comment
Share on other sites

We made our way through the back alleys and side-streets that followed Lime street until they were behind the Shipp Inn. Finding the door into the back store room I forced it open and took a look inside. It was empty. "Come on brudder, shhh." We slowly creeped into the back room, careful not to bump into anything and make noise. I found a good spot that I can stand hidden from the door into the common room. "Oi, Go hide over der, I'll be right ere. When th bastard comes in ere we'll shut im up first." I whisper to Ian. He smiles cruelly and nods. He moves over into the stop I told him to go and I could see him smiling from where I hid. I could see the bastard moving about the room, serving a table himself. once he was back behind the bar I made a noise, then another and a squeaking sound like a rat. Soon his round form filled the doorway as he squinted inside the room. I shifted a small sack and squeaked again. Then he spoke. "Damnation. . . where's that mangy cat when ye needs him. Damned rats." He started into the room and picked up a barrel stave. As he came further in he looked around and stopped. I squeaked again and he looked my way. He tried to sneak to where I stood. When he got close to me he looked up and saw me standing there, he jumped. Just then Ian grabbed him from behind. I slammed my hand across his mouth and showed him my pistol. "Not a peep ya doublecrossin bastard." He stoped struggling some. I took my hand from his mouth and quickly drew my dagger. In a hissing voice I asked him a question I didn't care what his answer was. "What would you have us do after tried to do us in after we did ye such a favour as riddin ye of a body? Humm, mate?" I saw him take a quick breath and quickly drew the dagger fast and hard across his windpipe, blood sprayed from the side of his throat as he tried to scream. All that came out was a rush of air and some gurgling. as the life went out of him. I helped Ian slowly lay him on the ground. I wiped his blood off my dagger on his shirt. then yanked his apron off, wiping his blood off my face and jacket. I threw the apron over his face and motioned for Ian to follow. We tok a small cask of rum or whiskey with us. It was too dark to read the markings on it. Out the back we went and into the alleys. We stopped at a water trough and I washed my face and hands of any more blood. "Where ye wanna go an do now, brudder Ian?"

He laughed. "Lets find a spot ta drink dis ere. " I nodded and we walked off down passed the big mansion.

Titim gan éirí ort.

Go mbeire an diabhal leis thú

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

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..."

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

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.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

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."

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

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.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

×
×
  • Create New...
&ev=PageView&cd%5Bitem_id%5D=7760&cd%5Bitem_name%5D=Port+Royal%2C+Jamaica&cd%5Bitem_type%5D=topic&cd%5Bcategory_name%5D=Fiction"/>