Post by Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine on Jun 23, 2010 12:37:44 GMT -6
GRAY are the gardens of our Celtic lands,
Dreaming and gray,
Tended by the devotion of pale hands,
On barren crags, or by disastrous sands,
That night and day
Are drenched with bitter spray.
There rosemary and thyme are plentiful,
Larkspur that lovers cull,
Love-in-the-mist that is most sorrowful.
Flowers so wistful that our teardrops start….
Scarcely one understands that regal, rare,
Bravely the tiger lily blossoms there,
Bravely apart.
Our gardens are enamored of the spring,
Of silver rain,
The cloudy green of buds slow-burgeoning,
The sorrow of last apple blooms that cling
And are not fain
To yield their fruit again.
We do not long for tropic pageantry,
Yet surge with love to see
The tiger lily’s muted ecstasy.
Watered by mist and lashed by wind-blown rime,
She is no alien thing; but vivid, free,
She has no heed for paler rosemary,
Larkspur or thyme.
It is in vain they worship her who knows
Pity nor pride.
Their petals whirl down every wind that goes
South to the palms or northward to the snows,
Mourning they died
So distant from her side.
But the brave tiger lily blossoms on,
Never to be undone
Till the last rosemary and thyme are gone.
Tattered by autumn storms, she will not fling
Herself to sullen foes. The winter rain
Alone can beat her down, to bloom again
Spring after spring.
Dreaming and gray,
Tended by the devotion of pale hands,
On barren crags, or by disastrous sands,
That night and day
Are drenched with bitter spray.
There rosemary and thyme are plentiful,
Larkspur that lovers cull,
Love-in-the-mist that is most sorrowful.
Flowers so wistful that our teardrops start….
Scarcely one understands that regal, rare,
Bravely the tiger lily blossoms there,
Bravely apart.
Our gardens are enamored of the spring,
Of silver rain,
The cloudy green of buds slow-burgeoning,
The sorrow of last apple blooms that cling
And are not fain
To yield their fruit again.
We do not long for tropic pageantry,
Yet surge with love to see
The tiger lily’s muted ecstasy.
Watered by mist and lashed by wind-blown rime,
She is no alien thing; but vivid, free,
She has no heed for paler rosemary,
Larkspur or thyme.
It is in vain they worship her who knows
Pity nor pride.
Their petals whirl down every wind that goes
South to the palms or northward to the snows,
Mourning they died
So distant from her side.
But the brave tiger lily blossoms on,
Never to be undone
Till the last rosemary and thyme are gone.
Tattered by autumn storms, she will not fling
Herself to sullen foes. The winter rain
Alone can beat her down, to bloom again
Spring after spring.
Shaden Aramoire Stryker:
It had been a difficult few days and while she loved being at home with the children, and Nick.. the past few days of revelation and aggravation had taken it's toll so much so that she was working late at the Lily, in full Courtesan Madam mode, the Lily was full, men tended to the courtesans, the wine and ale flowed freely , and little groups of conversation were to be held, laughter and song filled the sweet summer air as did perfume from the garden flowers, hours upon hours of mingling and smiling, laughing and cajoling had left her cheeks hurting, and her soul clamoring for the peace and solitude of her home, and yet... there was something there, tucked into the bookshelf between the volumes of leather bound books that made her want to avoid her home entirely... she just wanted to pretend, for a moment that all was right with the world, that her world had not been set upon it's ear, and that life did indeed go on.. regardless of the brick that sat like a lead weight at the bottom of her heart. Azure skirts of a scandalously gauzy material shot through with silver and gold embroidery, little gems scattered upon the hem and neckline, painted upon her like water, and ice goddess perhaps... cool and calm, not to be touched.. something to be admired.. but far to cold to hold onto... this was the creature that slipped out onto the veranda of the Lily..poised in reflection as she cast eyes heavenward to the moon, reciting a lymric.. from her childhood... in a hushed whisper.. " I see the moon... and the moon sees me... where in the world will my life carry me..?" it was a question game she had played in the training house... often the girls there would expound for hours upon where their lives as a courtesan would take them... tonight however.. she asked the moon.. a more difficult question... as dark lashes closed over sunkissed cheeks.. in her mind she voiced it .. only in her mind... "should I give up... give over... give in ?"(d)
Ursula Darling:
It seemed like ages since she had seen the Lily when really it was not far from the theater and she saw the outside often when she passed by. Not officially retired and yet not active, she revelled in the pleasures to come and go as she pleased but things had changed so drastically in the months that looking upon the familiar form of the Lily the building seemed so odd now that her secret was out, to at least to Marke who it had seemed taken a final and definite turn out of her life she suddenly craved the old familiar rooms that smelled of Shaden's flowers from her gardens and the waff of cigar and perfume as conversations drummed around in a song all their own. Pulling back the blood red colored skirts, she swept up the walk and did not even bother knocking as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Gerda received a warm and welcoming smile that had not graced her lips in quite some time. The Lily had not changed at least in sight and appearance were concerned where Ursula skin despite the sun had seemed to whiten even more as the dark embers of her hair had been straightened from their normal bouncy curl and swayed like a curtain as her attention danced around and finding Shaden slipping out onto the veranda she weaved her way through the guests a couple of the gentleman calling in surprise at the sight of her and she dazzled them with a smile, hugs and kisses as if nothing had changed at all before sweeping back into the night again, this time silently standing by as if stalking the Madame of the Lily. "Life doesn't carry you Madame, you carry life..." Ursula voice purred from behind the woman as she let a rose she had plucked from a vase pass over the exposed top of her breasts in the dress. "You make your own fate or at least that is what I have learned." Chocolate eyes lifted and she smiled at Shaden.*
Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
The thunderous sound of hooves beating like drums against the road announced the arrival of the rider long before the tall Frenchman upon the friesian decorated for war. Tonight, he would have been a guest one content to gather the Lily's into his arms only to weave lessons in and out of their minds while his fingers ran circles at the base of a neck, or the dip of a spine. Always was it expected, his best attire; expensive Italian leather, studded with silver, laced overtop of the finest silk. However, on this night the silver remained only in facets of his shoulder belts, along the line of his lapel and at the base of the epaulettes. Tonight he was dressed in Griffin colors, though the English version finished in red. Armed to the teeth, he appeared more the French general then the French gentleman. "I must speak to Shaden." At first those at the door did not recognize him, as even when he took of the bicorn, and the hair he was known for revealed--there was something different in his face. He appeared younger, erased the lines of age from his face, and no longer did he walk with a limp. "It is of great importance." One of the guests, perhaps even one of his favorites came quick to call to his side, but he would only excuse her with a soft smile. "The Mistress please." One of the patrons would gesture towards the veranda where it would be the ice queen would indeed own the night, and soon he too would feel himself undone in her presence..but would wait for the conversation to clear. Manners came first, even over English wars that soon would wage against Scotland once again. (d
Shaden Aramoire Stryker:
"For some of us, it is not for us to carry life " a play on words that bit at the bitter truth that agonized her heart so, but a soft smile was turned upon the dark angel.. or rather it's mistress.. " Ursula... it has been so long " she turned embracing the other woman, a dichotomy the picture presented, the ice queen in the diamond like ethereal blue shades, and the hellion.. in her fiery red.. a master would have painted two beauties.. no doubt, suffering through the exercise with theological notions of good and bad, light and dark, purity and evil.. and yet.. there was both in each woman, as there was in every woman... the embrace lasted only moments before she would sense him.. glacial green hues lifting over the soft shoulder of the dark haired beauty clad in scarlett.. to meet his.. the soft narrowing of eyes , the little turn of her mouth questioned his being there.. as she stepped back...from Ursula " Jean" his name always sounded like a prayer, whispered fervently to God, in hopes of wonder... when it fell from her lips... it seemed naught had changed (d)
Ursula Darling:
"For some of us, its a prayer of thanks when we lose the ability"She retorted in a rolling purr but she held that smile still. "I wasn't talking of carrying what some would call the 'blessing' of life within them. I'm talking about carrying life as if you own it. You make it what it is, life doesn't control you and those that let it often find themselves six feet under all to soon." She flicked her wrist breaking the long stem of the rose and then reaching up to put the now smaller steam through the pin holding some of her hair back. "I should know" She finished before reaching around to embrace the woman in a hug. She felt the presence of another but ignored it until Shaden made it known. Not that she was trying to be rude but the Lily was not her establishment, it was Shaden's. Chocolate eyes slid to the frenchmen and then back to Shaden while a single eyebrow etched its way upward in silent wonder at the tone in Shaden's voice but she smiled pleasantly all the same when her attention returned to Jean Claude as her hands folded in front of her stomach, the fingers of one hand stroking absently the dark ring on her pointer finger of her left hand of angel wings poking out from a black opal stone.*
Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
Such sadness in her eyes could break his heart, it always had, but the last he had heard Nicholas had returned to her side--she had forgiven him. What now, plagued the beautiful eyes of this darling dove? "Ma Belle Fleur..How good it is to see you." He closed the distance between them, as bare hands came to take her own placing kisses to the upturned knuckles of her lily white hands. His skin was cold, the air from the ride had put color to his cheeks, and even with his hair pulled back cascading down his spine he appeared just as all kept him..the devil. It was the coal black of his eyes, the blue so dark it appeared the same shade of his iris, and always the direction of his attention could be questioned. To Ursula he turned, straightening as a proper gentleman should he offered her a bow, "Good Evening Mistress Darling." How wicked that did sound, "You both look lovely." Was it a costume gathering? Though the 'props' he wore were indeed very deadly, "Shaden..I have dire business, Mademoiselle Darling..if you do not mind, I take the floor." The conversation had indeed turned his way anyway, but it was not like him to be so rude. "I am in need of your service." He spoke all at once, taking her hand once more to lead them so that they all could sit. (d
Shaden Aramoire Stryker:
An elegant brow lifted over her eyes in unspoken question as unmarred bare flesh of hands grasp hers within their confines, all trace of age had fled as if dust from a shelf to reveal the beauty of the woods shine beneath.. It would be with silence she listened as he greeted then directed them both down the marble stairs and out into the serenity and privacy of the garden, to settle upon a gathering of benches, and the fountains rim.. " My services?" she finally queried after their privacy and comfort had been assured, azure skirts belled out about her, as she sank onto the marble rim of the fountain.. the sense the water behind her provoke images of a water nymph or some such and she turned a glance to Ursula... tilting her head in question.. obviously he meant the both of them.. for if it were either or.. he would have politely dismissed the one he had no need of.. Perhaps it was fate of providence that had Ursula and Shaden in the same place , or perhaps Jean Claude was just lucky.. no matter.. either way.. He had piqued Shaden's curiosity.. and perhaps that was what she needed.. a mystery to keep her mind off the diary (d)
Ursula Darling:
"Master Jean Claude, it has been a long time" She purred with a slight dip on her part that had her height sinking a quarter of an inch as her head bowed chin to chest, barely touching and then lifting as she rose to her full height once again. Absently she gave a wave of her head that he should have the floor and no hard feelings on her part. Her hand fell to her ring again and she walked a step behind the pair down to the fountain and again, she stayed just out of reach as if a breathtaking and inviting lawn sculpture that had life breathed into it. Again her brow shot slowly upward inching its way as her eyes fell to Shaden's meeting the woman's exactly at the time Shaden's gaze went to her and her shoulders rolled in what seemed a lazy shrug that she had no knowledge of being needed. She had not been summoned by the french man tonight, it seemed a 'happy' accident that they should all be here with Jean asking help but so far her services had not been requested and they were never lightly given. As with her days as a courtesan, her 'attention' came with a price. Again she absently stroked the black opal of her ring as her head lifted and the rounded curve of her chin poked out as her head tilted so her attention was again on Jean Claude.*
Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
He slipped into French, knowing she knew it well; did Ursula? "I am in need of the service of your Lilies though not of desire." Though..that could have been questioned. "I need well trained eyes and ears to breech the inner workings of a rebellion against the crown." He spoke nearly all at once, in a voice that sounded as if he were only to whisper sweet french nothings, that no doubt had many women to soon follow to his bedchamber. Jean-Claude, in his youth had been quite the rogue, his rebellion against the Comte he called father was outfitted mostly in the beds of other students, and even professors. "I would like to take three, two rather modest in the appearance, but well versed in French." It had been the key so far, "Perhaps even Spanish, I am not certain as to where this is leading, but I leave at dawn." Was as much as he could tell her out in open, as many here often knew the language of his homeland, and he doubted very much she could speak Italian...though..she was often full of surprises. "Of course the payment will be in full, and go towards their marque. I ask you this, but must let you know I can not guarantee their safety..or that they will return. So it is why I ask for your best." He would not have asked at all, had he not been desperate. They were going into battle blind, and any help would have been appreciated. "But it is not all.." He sat back, taking a deep breath crossing one leg over his knee as well throwing an arm over the seat of the bench. "My apprentice.." He started without breath, exhaustion starting to creep over his newly acquired younger features. "Contact has been lost, tell me..have you connections in Spain?" (d
Shaden Aramoire Stryker:
She listened as he rapidly spoke.. an eyebrow raising as he asked for three of her Lilies.. knowing he did not ask for courtesans but her spies... her tiger lilies.. for a moment she looked unmoved by his plight, then spoke in reply... "Jayne.. and Annalise would serve you well, though I leave the decision to them, as you say, it will be dangerous and you will have to speak to them in complete honestly of what they may encounter before I will sanction such a thing.. but as to another that would serve you well.. besides myself.. I cannot vouch for their expertise as of yet. as I can Jayne and Annalise.. Of course Jayne cannot be made to look Plain.. but Annalise with the right clothing could be mousy and unnoticeable.. " she to spoke in fluent and rapid French.. to his answer, excluding Ursula for the time being " However our dark angel here might have some in her employee that would.. augment your cause " she nodded her chin with the offer of an alternative.. turning his attention to Ursula for a moment as his second question was pondered for a long moment then replied to as well.. " I have indeed a few old friends in Spain.. shall I make inquiries for you? Discreetly of course?" (d)
Ursula Darling:
If she spoke french, there was no indication on her face that she understood what they said to one another but then Ursula was famous for keeping her face a perfect mask of one without any emotion at all. The only indication she gave of the two of them was a flicker of her eyes back and forth. For a moment she all most snorted. Of course she understood what was being said despite her reproach to show that she understood it but the Lilies as spies? Ursula had learned long ago there was more to Shaden then met the eye but women of their caliber were as rare as a fine and cherished wine. She very much doubted Shaden herself would volunteer for the job but some of the Lilies? Now this was interesting to hear and though Ursula did not stick her nose up at her Former sometimes still Madame, Shaden was first and foremost a businesswoman while Ursula, remained in the business of shadows and secrets. It suited her all most as much as acting did. As her name was mentioned her brow shot up along with her eyelid and her chin lifted, tilted upward as if indigently and quietly appalled she had been suggested. If Jean had wanted her help, he would of spoken in English not played games in speaking french without first knowing if she spoke it or not. There had been no assumption that she knew, she had blatantly been left out and now to be suggested all most seemed as if the best could not be found then she was second and only by Shaden's suggestion. Still the hint that she could feed that dark addiction of her life was hard to pass up, still she sent her head shaking from side to side as if a blanket caught in a breeze as her shoulder rose and fell nonchalantly. "Perhaps" She answered, in English to their french indicating again, she did nothing for free.*
Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
He had been surprised to hear Jayne's name..she was indeed a tiger now? Huh. "I could make her modest." If any on the Isle could it would be he, though he knew it would be a challenge. "If you would set up the interview. I will of course explore every option first, but I do not think I shall have much choice..You do well in your business, Mon Cher.." His bare hand would move to brush a strand of her red hair from her face, while cupping her cheek with his fingers lazily, "A passion of yours, one of many." Here, the attention would turn, dark eyes to meet that of the Dark Angel, and did she fear such a man? He had often been described as a demon, but in truth was simply a fallen angel himself, devoted still to his faith. "Ursula..a talented choice. Tell me..you know more of me now then just a common courtier..that your wages will be met handsomely." If not doubled, "It will be your finest performance..Julian means the world to me. I would not ask simple inquiries..but a shadow." One darker then the one that already followed him. His arm had fallen in behind Shaden, without thought..second nature. "I would not ask it if it were not important, but I am pressed for time. I remain only to see Genevieve is secured, and leave at dawn." He had returned the Lady Artisan. (d
Shaden Aramoire Stryker:
She almost laughed outright at the small show of indignation that Ursula's answer proclaimed, how like her firey dark angel to take offense, not realizing that Shaden knew very well that Ursula spoke French as well as a myrid of other languages, and it was something of a test as well, to let Jean see indeed that she kept her composure and could act as if nothing were amiss, she Knew Ursula to be a master of darkness and disguise, and capable, of working with Jayne and even reigning her in if need be.. Jayne could be.. flamboyant and prone to well... dramatics sometimes.. but she was trustworthy and a master at her craft, and well worth the expense if She agreed to go with Jean . As his arm settled about her shoulders.. " I have someone in Spain.. that I can set upon his shadow if you like... a former... colleague... that would be an asset.. Shall I make the arrangements? By arrangements she meant a messenger that would alert Fiera to the mission and transfer the funds, setting up the network that would indeed sniff out Jean's apprentice and see him well cared for, or those who would harm him... taken care of permantely She leaned back, and into him relaxing a moment as they studied Ursula in tandem.. awaiting the dark angels reply (d)
Ursula Darling:
The frenchmans compliments to Shaden made even Ursula stomach turn though she saw no untruths in them. Still she began to drum her fingers all most lazily against the knuckles of her other hand. When Jean attention turned to her, she smiled if not a bit darkly. "My dear Jean Claude, I have never found anything common about you" She replied as if a compliment but one took it how they saw it. She did not fear him. Ursula had been called a demon on her own time and seemingly rightly earned the title of Dark Angel by one she loved and who now hated her in return. Love was a sweet torture was it not? But the title fit and she wore it with pride. "Actually I do have someone in mind. She is of Spanish blood. I actually found her while touring Spain for more exotic courtesans. Her french is fluent if not muddled a bit by her own accent." Here she paused to turn an eye to Shaden. There was not much the woman missed but had any idea Ursula had planted one of her own in the Lily? "The courtesan Esmerelda, or Esme as she likes to be called. She is one of my finest pupils and can be melded to whatever you desire, one quality that makes her perfect for the Lily." She spoke of the job ignoring the intimacy between the two and keeping her comments well off of her face. She did not pry nor give rise of her own opinion for she had her own drama to attend with without sticking her nose in other peoples lives unless for a job. "You sure do not give people time enough to decide if the price is worth the risk though." Her chin tipped down as the corners of her mouth inched upward in a darker smile, that comment in itself was not a compliment.*
Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
"Actually, Ursula Darling..I had hoped you would take the assignment to Spain. I haven't the time to interview another nor do I wish to. The matters there are of his own assignment with the Order..you worked with the Ebony Hall..you know what he is up against." If he would he would beg, "Think it over." To that he would touch Shaden's knee squeezing lightly as he made his stance, having much to do. "If you would, send the Lady Jayne, and the Lady Annalise to the shop..escort them if you can. I will make it known what I wish, and what they will be up against. If they take the assignment, then I shall have them outfitted for it." He had left the arms of his attire at the door and soon outfitted himself again with the blade. "Shaden..when I return, I am going to take you to dinner. So be prepared. I shall not take no for an answer." He so rarely did. Really, it was not his style and after a lifetime of yes how could he want of anything else? With that he would dip his head in his good-bye and make his way for the door. (d
Poem, Tiger Lily by Walter Adolphe Roberts