Port Royal, Jamaica

[Aurore Devareaux]

Dull throb of jaw line had finally given in to elixir rule, but its' absence had been replaced by other matters. Recent phantoms tugged at the edges of thought like needy children not so easily bribed into retreat. Echoes of mannerism, echoes of body language and assuredness that could not be denied even as he worked to banish them. Sabastian tried to blame it on crystal decanter haze, a disruption of clear thinking brought on by the Spirit in the Bottle; but deep in his innermost being, he knew this to be a lie.

Conversation remained fairly light and he had become thankful that it had not turned to paths which might encourage deeper delving. He had played the gentleman, assuring that Ransom's requests were fulfilled; neither pewter nor crystal fell to want. The world felt a little off kilt, as if spinning a degree further to the left then normal, once again it was put off to the effects of refined liquid... But then a cadence of identifying rhythm sounded on chamber door, producing involuntary start.

Dark eyes fleeted to Ransom's face then away just a quickly. The hailing resounded and he seemed to freeze, brow furrowing with displeasure. Regaining composure, Sabastian rose from seating and offered apology before crossing to portal and revealing insistent caller. Dim hall lighting fought with chamber glow for threshold possession.

Christophe offered short bow to chamber companion, then spoke in low tones that which was to be said. Beggar Prince exhaled heavily, shoulders drooping slightly in some mimic of defeat and he nodded acknowledgment. Christophe waited patiently for verbose, as Sabastian crossed to where companion had paused in meal partake.

His expression, so normally held at full command, bled with lost facets and without thinking, he squatted to balance on the forward area of soft boot sole. Looking up to her, he deeply wished to capture the hand which rested on near chair arm, but did not dare such actions.

"Mademoiselle, it is with much regret, that I must part your company. If I were offered choice, this would not be so...."

The dark eyes focused on the thick plush of carpeting below, "You are welcome to stay here or not. If you wish to leave, I shall escort you to the destination you desire."

The wieght of the world suddenly become more cumbersome....

[Ransom]

The conversation had been light, but so pleasurable. It reminding her of days long since passed, where, with gentile company, she could spend an evening in mere talk. The knock on the door startled her, and she could see Sebastian was annoyed, and had not expected visiters.

When Christophe entered, Sebastian's mannor subtely changed, but she could tell he did not want to leave the short, stolen bit of peace this room offered. When he knelt before her, she met his gaze with understanding, and a hint of regret that the evening was over.

"Go, tend to your business," she said. "It is late. I will return to the Rakehell and visit Professor Trilby on the morrow." And although she hated to bring up business after such an interlude, it was necessary. "We must meet again, Sebastian, to arrange for the rest of your cargo to be unloaded. Send a message to the ship, appraising me of a place and time convenient to you."

She wanted very much to kiss him, and take some of the sudden sadness from his eyes, but dared not do so with Christophe watching their every move. But, without thought, she reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his brow. "Send the message soon, if you can."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Sabastian's breathing paused at her touch, and inner confusion hieghtened. Dark eyes locked with her own and held stance as he called back to waiting comrade,

"Monsuier Lambert, wait for me below s'il vous plait."

Beggar Prince said nothing as the door swung back to securing; his attention rapt upon her face.

" I would prefer that you do not return alone, it is not safe....At least allow me to send someone in your company."

[Ransom]

I gave him a grateful smile. "No, I am quite capable of returning to my ship without harm. Besides, who would you send, Christophe?"

And so he would know for certain how much I had enoyed this night, I added, "You have made me forget, for a few hours, what life I have chosen for myself. But dark streets and moving in secrecy are my world, as much as the deck of a ship. I will be fine. Go, do your business, and do not worry on my account, for I believe you have many other things to occupy you mind at present."

I rose from my chair, touched his bruised jaw, and gave him a smile. "Try not to damage yourself any further, if possible. Now come, let us go downstairs, and then we will part ways...for now."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Sabastian nodded ascent, but as the chamber door loomed his step faltered slightly. Turning, he scrutinized her expression then reached forward and around petit waist. Palm resting on the small of her back, he moved closer to disperse the air boundry. Leaning forward, Sabastian searched Ransom's eyes, then gathered her closer. Hovering there for the fleet of momment, he waited for her protest and receiving none, dared to brush her lips with his own.

[Ransom]

With my blood racing, our lips parted. All I could manage, before we had to leave the silken sactuary, was a breathless, "Send word to me soon."

Then, against all feelings and tides of nature, we stepped apart, and left Sebastian's lavish hideaway for the common room below.

[Andrew March]

March noticed the long fingers twisting the wedding band that once again encircled the captain's ring finger.  March frowned now, almost as deeply as the old steward.

"What is it John?" the first officer asked.

"Perhaps Mistress McKinney is right," Sterling said, finally holding out his hand for the lock of his son's hair.

March ignored the captain’s last statement and passed the lock of fine hair to its rightful owner.

“Yours is almost as white in colour when we’ve been to sea all summer and the sun beats down on it,” March remarked. He quietly folded the letter, hoping Sterling would give it no further notice. He was about to place it in his pocket, in order to toss it away, when the captain looked up.

“Thank ye Andrew, I shall take that. I think I would like to go over it once more,” Sterling said.

“Aye John as ye like. I would pay it no heed if I were ye. I shall send word to Mistress McKinney that when we are ready to make sail to England, that we shall send someone to fetch her and her things,” March suggested. The first officer stood to his feet, and, somewhat reluctantly passed the letter along as well. “John have ye considered what yer new wife might think if ye were to bring yer old mistress back to England? Ye know Mistress Sterling will not travel with ye, odds are she will not so as much set foot even upon the Archangel’s decks again, but still, do ye truly think it wise traveling alone with a woman ye once loved?” March glanced quickly over his shoulder at Symms, as the old man’s “humph” sounded loudly in the background.

“It no longer matters,” Sterling said as he carefully tucked the lock of hair inside Lilly’s note. “There is one other thing, now that ye mention it.” He looked up curiously as March looked away a moment, covering a frown that had clouded the first officer’s face. “I have need of Mr. Straw’s advice and possible services. There is something that I need canceled…. And I….”

“Ye mean annulled do ye not?” March said moving closer to the bunk and looking down at the captain, his expression hard. “John, all ye need is some rest. Give yerself a chance to heal. Ye have been under a tremendous bit of pressure for the past year and things have not turned around as of yet, except for this new marriage. Ye cannot tell me that ye do not love this girl?!”

“She does not love me, I am certain of it now. Tis as if I do not exist when others are about and they are about constantly. I am nothing but another wounded creature the young girl has taken the time to pity. Tis all, nothing more,” Sterling said, his voice lowering. “I think it is best that I no longer waste her time or mine own. She‘s shed enough tears, I should think.”

“And she's shed those tears because she cannot abide yer company is what ye have in yer head is it?" March sighed, there was no point in arguing when the captain was in such a state and yet he could not help himself. "So ye’ll run off with that actress again, instead of trying to make yer marriage work,” March said.

“Good God no!” Symms muttered as he moved closer to the others.

March shot a warning glance back at the older man. “Stay out of this!” he snapped. He looked angrily back at Sterling “And be miserable when McKinney refuses yer next proposal. Ye really are not in yer right mind are ye?”

“It will be different now… there is the child to consider.”

“Ye think a mere child will make things different between ye and McKinney?” March asked. “For God’s sake John, trust me, ye do not want to be doing this thing. Give this new lass a chance. Ye can make yerself another babe on her and she will not only love the child but ye as well. How long do ye think the actress will pay ye heed once she sets foot back in England again?”

“Tell Mr. Straw that I wish to speak with him…now!” Sterling said, burying his face in his hands to still the throbbing in his head.

“Fine! As ye like, but I’m sending the doctor in to see ye first. He'll ship ye back to England by God, straight back to Bedlam… ye great bloody fool!” March shouted and stormed from the cabin.

[CrazyCholeBlack]

A wave of despair swept over Jane as the seedy Inn came into view. The building was battered, barely remaining standing thanks to the storm. A large portion of the roof had collapsed, taking with it her rented attic room and much of the Inn’s second floor. The street surrounding the Inn was dry, but showed signs of being flooded only a few hours earlier. Perhaps it had been too much to expect both herself and her belongings to survive the storm. Jane slipped around through the back alley, dodging stray branches and other debris. The rear door sat half on its hinges, mud spilling into the building through the gap. Quietly she slipped through the space, navigating the dim interior with ease. Before Ioan could follow her, she spun around to face him, glaring in frustration. Her fowl mood wasn’t up to tolerating his dog at heels routine much longer.

“Captain didn’t say ye ‘ad ta be on my heels! Jest stay ‘ere fer once.” A thin finger jabbed at his chest to make the point clear

[Dan Reid]

Amazed that the Captain did not know of her fame, she blushed for a moment. "I see you do not get to London very often, Captain. “Pity,” She taking her seat next to the bar, “My face and my performances are quite well known. I am Mistress Lilly McKinney, Actress.” She said smiling allowing the good Captain to take her hand.

swiftly lifting her hand to his lips he replied

"No, Miss McKinney, I not make it ta London much at all. A pity, that" he said with a shrug, escorting her to the bar. "I spend most of me time at sea with this wee pest o' a dog as me companion. I captain me father's merchantmen on most occasions, 'tween Aberdeen and th' continent. But now I be in search o' the man what killed me brother. That scoundrel's name be Dan Reid. The lads an' I set out after him as soon as we haird 'e was 'ere. Unfortunately, we was set upon by them damned Spaniards just afore th' storm hit us. We just made it ta' port afore the storm could send the "Reiver" ta Davy Jones. She be that tattered vessel what sets upon the shore outside o' town," a frown creased his sea ravaged face. "Lost many of me crew, fine lads them all. Only crew there be what is all Scotsman. We hired us an English master gunner though ta teach the lads ta be better shots. Only thing what saved us from them Spaniards, it was."

He ordered two glasses of port from the tapster. "But enough about me," he said with a wink. "What's a fine beauty such as yerself doin' so far from the lights o' London? Not many stages 'ere I wager." He smiled again as he noticed the little dog curl up upon her skirts and prompty drop off to sleep.

[Ransom]

“Captain didn’t say ye ‘ad ta be on my heels! Jest stay ‘ere fer once.” A thin finger jabbed at his chest to make the point clear

Ioan grabbed her wrist before she could withdraw her hand. "Don't take liberties, missy. I've orders to watch you, and watch you I will. You won't be goin' anywhere where I don't have line of sight and a clear path...to block if I have to, 'cause I know you'd like to do a bolt and be done with me."

He released her arm, and smiled. "So, resign yourself to my company until we get back to Captain Striker's fine ship." Then he gestured for her to lead on into the ruined inn.

[Capt. Sterling]

“Tell Mr. Straw that I wish to speak with him…now!” Sterling said, burying his face in his hands to still the throbbing in his head.

“Fine!  As ye like, but I’m sending the doctor in to see ye first. He'll ship ye back to England by God, straight back to Bedlam… ye great bloody fool!”  March shouted and stormed from the cabin.

Sterling waited impatiently, knowing all too well that March would now be the last person to pass on the order for Mr. Straw to make his way to the captain's quarters for a matter of importance. Ordinarily, Sterling would have been livid for his orders to be so blatantly disobeyed but Andrew March had been a friend for many years and not just a drinking companion. Sterling highly valued his first officer's opinion in all things, so now, he could only try to keep his temper in check and settle back to think about what the angry Scot had to say. After all, it would not be the first time March had been right about something in one of their disagreements.

A number of times he unfolded and re-read the actress's letter. It would be so simple for him to ease back into her company. She knew how to please him and yet, she had never been able to give her full attentions to him and him alone. Maybe he was wrong, but when it came to the woman he wished to love, he did not wish to share her with any one else except his children and family. Still, Lilly could be considerate and caring to the point of spoiling him. He found himself smiling at the thought but only briefly when he remembered how many other men he had, had to compete with for her attentions and on a regular basis.

His thoughts turned to his new bride. He was all too well aware of how quickly a mere infatuation extinguished itself and he could only wonder if that was what his wife was now experiencing. How little he knew her and he now wished he had taken his time in his pursuit of her. But being shot had unsettled his judgement. Perhaps, with more time, he could have made himself better acquainted with the other members of her clan. He knew not all would except him, but some might, given more time. Perhaps then he would not feel so shut out of the things that mattered to Aurore. He had been shut out of enough things during his life time, he did not wish to be isolated from his wife's affairs. He also knew family was of the utmost importance to her as it was to him, unfortunately, it was something, except for his brief time with Tess, that he had never really come to know well. Perhaps the future Lilly had to offer him was the only offer of happiness that life would present to him. And yet, as he lay there, his heart ached for Aurore so much so that he would rather be shot again than to feel such discomfort.

[Cheeky Actress]

"But enough about me," he said with a wink. "What's a fine beauty such as yerself doin' so far from the lights o' London? Not many stages 'ere I wager." He smiled again as he noticed the little dog curl up upon her skirts and prompty drop off to sleep.

Lilly took a sip from her glass and with a wistful look gave way to a small sigh.

“My Dear Captain, the tale of my journey here to Port Royal is filled with peril and heartache. It has been less then one month’s time upon this island and yet, much has happened to me that would cause the strongest of men to shred a tear at the very telling of my tale. Now are you sure that you are a man of convictions that would be able to sustain such a tale?”

She looked over at him once again and gave him a sorrowful look.

[Dan Reid]

She looked over at him once again and gave him a sorrowful look.

He looked thoughtfully at Ms. McKinney noting the sorrow in her eyes.

"Well, me mate seems ta' like ye" he smiled softly "'twould be me pleasure ta' hear yer tale. I know how sorrow ken be a burden" he thought sadly of his lost brother.

Pulling himself up by his bootstraps, he smiled again, "Tell away, dear lady. We both ken drown our sorrows in this good stout port."

He ordered two more glasses of the drink and told the tapster to leave the bottle, throwing out a few guineas to curb the mans distasteful look.

"Would ye be carin' for some dinner while we share our tales of woe?" he asked turning back to Ms. McKinney.

[Cheeky Actress]

"Would ye be carin' for some dinner while we share our tales of woe?" he asked turning back to Ms. McKinney.

Lilly smiled again, and nodded with pleasure. "Yes, kind Sir. We can drown our sorrows and feast upon good company!"

She watched the Captain wave his hand to the maid servant from across the bar.

"I perfer the mutton." She said handing over her glass so the maid servant would refill it. Lilly watched the Captain pounder upon his choice and she sat back gently in her chair and begain to tell her tale.

[Dan Reid]

"I suppose a good hagis is out of the question," he said with a sigh. "Mutton as well for me" he stated to the serving maid "and a small bit for me mate" he added pointing to the little dog.

He lifted his glass to his lips as he turned back to Ms. McKinney, listening to her story, "me ears are all yers, madam."

[flintlock jack]

*****

[Dan Reid]

we have a page for yer suggestions...this ain't it.

[Aurore Devareaux]

The heavy quality of humidity laden air rushed forth threefold as back stoop was gained. Haze of spirit communion lingered at the edges of his cognitive fortitudes, the low and steady thrum of jaw line sneaking with stealth to recover the square. Formal composure was reset at the opening of rear entrance, female companion allowed crossing into the night and within the Shadow company that held court in alley beyond. Sabastian regarded her with cloaked interest, words were spoken with cordial airs, bow offered....then nothing more.

As Ransom's shade melded with those holding reign over thruway confines, small gesture was made in silent command and answered in kind as one of the number broke off to follow at safe but, close distance. Silence overpowered the hierarchy of darkness rule, disrupted briefly by lonely call of mongrel hound and the scrutiny of Beggar Dauphin lit in trade off from one to another of the Faithful gathered; settling longest upon beloved Fox near French companions. The interchange was much as the solemn hue of the alley proximity, features of mirror hues cast on opposite gender played tag; dark eye to dark eye locking then moving away.

Stepping down from wooden plateau to sodden earth, Sabastian seemed to taste the air and savory its' facets, intent scrutiny playing the corridor with practiced intent; slow sweep flowing from left to right then pausing with sudden halt and returning to focus just offside of the stoop. The dimness of night's cloak did well to conceal the unsettled jerk of movement as simple post was picked apart visually; the slight clench of jaw and narrow of sights. Tentative step was taken, head cocked in bemused manner; the Gathered shifted in footing and the sound was as autumn leaves stirred by smallish breeze.

Pivoting, Sabastian struggled to pull his attention away from empty space that was not always so, one slender hand moving unconsciously to rub traumatized jaw line. When query was issued, the verbose was delivered just above whisper to any that would hear.

"Ou est mon chavel.....?"*

The shift of leaves occurred again.

*where is my horse?

[Ransom]

Port Royal, even at this late hour, was still busy with those whose endeavors favored the darkness. With one hand on the hilt of my rapier, I trotted silently toward the harbor, keeping away from the pools of light created by lanterns and torches outside the many taverns. Soon I became aware of another shadow behind me, following at leisure, with no hint of malice. I smiled. So, Sebastian thought I need a bodyguard after all. To my surprise, rather than annoy me, I found the gesture touching.

With a small smile still lifting the corners of my mouth, I continued on my way to the docks, and reboarded the Rakehell.

[Professor Angus Trilby]

Professor Trilby lay abed, scowling at the hole in the roof above his head. Tomorrow some stout-hearted lads were coming to replace the tiles blown off during the storm, but until then, he could see a few stars through the head-sized gap. It also let in an army of flying insects which were attracted to the oil lamp burning on a side table. The bugs also seemed determined to take up evening residence in his beard. He was also extreamly annoyed with the constant, high-pitched whine of mosquitos.

"Bloody evil nits," he muttered, waving a hand in front of his face. Cleopatra, who lay near his feet, glanced up, yawned, then went back to sleep. Trilby turned the page of a rare book on herbology, swatted another bug crawling on his forehead, and glared down at the cat. "Tae bad you're only good at catching mice. Mayhap yea should develope a taste for beetle and rid me of half this plague."

Cleopatra cocked an ear, but kept her eyes closed.

[Aurore Devareaux]

The horses were reined in at quay's landfall, Sabastian glanced once over shoulder to sibling before gaining the ground below. Gesturing for the other's to remain, he approached the looming visage of Brother-In-Law's vessel. A minute shiver tingled nerve endings as gangplank was neared and full halt of motion commenced. Under different circumstances, he would have sent one of the other's forward, but saw that this would not be of wisest thinkings.

Looking upward to the motion on deck, hail was called for acknowledgement and in the time it took for verbose to carry, a cool sheen of sweat broke upon lupine brow.

[Andrew March]

March made his way to the gangplank as the younger midshipman drew his attention to the latest arrival.

"Ah, Mister Devareaux," the first officer said after recovering from a polite bow. "What could possibly bring ye so far from the comforts of home at such an early hour?"

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

Lady Violet spent a most enjoyable evening.

It started with a suburb supper of pork cutlets in plum sauce, with a side dish of roasted potatoes, carrots and leeks. All were washed down with a very fine claret.

Afterwards, she summoned a sedan chair, and with Sugar cradled in her arm, and Timmon to accompany her, she headed for her favorite gaming club. Once ensconced at a Faro table, she exchanged gossip with various aquaintances, therefore learning all the sordid details concerning the two murders, the shooting of John Sterling — which Lady Violet thought he most assuredly deserved — and the fire that destroyed The Shipp and a third of the town. She drank more claret, and, since she was a shrewd card player, tripled her original stake.

At midnight she consumed a quantity of delights from the buffet table, returned to her cards, and won more money until Sugar began to fuss, and Lady Violet decided to end her evening. As she stumbled slightly to the door, a rotund gentleman remarked that she was so drunk she'd 'shot the cat', to which Lady Violet haughtily retorted that he should mind his own business.

Now dressed for bed, she sipped from a posset consising of wine, shredded bits of bread, spices, and the juice of half a lime, all stirred together with a hot poker. Once that was finsihed, she settled into bed and fell instantly asleep.

Unfortunately, her three servants were kept awake for what remainded of the night, due to their mistress's thunderous snoring.

[Aurore Devareaux]

March made his way to the gangplank as the younger midshipman drew his attention to the latest arrival.   

"Ah, Mister Devareaux," the first officer said after recovering from a polite bow. "What could possibly bring ye so far from the comforts of home at such an early hour?"

Beggar Prince returned bow with courtly airs, eyeing the vessel afore him with some manner of hidden discomfort before replying.

"Bonsoir, Monsieur March...I see you are well in light of all that has occured in recent past..."

The dark eyes surveyed vessel's existance again as Sabastian continued, " The night is a pleasurable thing in Tropic locals...Though I dare to say it is not a chance meeting that exists betwixt you and I. But, rather a need of audience that brings me here. Would you be so kind as to inform Le Capitaine of mine being present?"

From behind, a soft whisper of whinney danced over the waters.

[Andrew March]

“Well enough. Thank God the storm was not too harsh. I must confess I have said my prayers and worried through many another far worse in my time,” March folded his arms, one hand coming to stroke the tips of his beard. “Audience says you? With the Captain? Afraid I am that Captain Sterling is indisposed at the moment.”