ne t'en fais pas, mon chou.

[agogemod]

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Agoge's second TDM! And welcome to Paris, everybody.
WHEN? Late 1792, Paris.
ANYTHING ELSE? Violence, as always. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence, and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.

IT'LL BE FINE;

Paris, 1792: revolutionary france.

read the France setting infopages

arrival for veterans

For those who broke off from the army that fought at Valmy and returned to Paris, they come to a city bustling with life. Not only that, but they are greeted with nothing short of a hero's welcome. The tricolor is flown from every possible spot that can hold a flag, cockades are everywhere, and people cheer the names of the generals Dumouriez and Kellermann.

Simply saying you fought at Valmy is liable to get someone to buy you a drink, do you a favor, congradulate you, shake your hand. It's a great way to get shopkeepers to lower their prices, to get a low cost room, or just get someone to smile. Children will ask for stories of the fight. Grown men and women will ask to know what the generals were like.

Yes, you are undercover, yes, you are in the wrong time, and possibly the wrong universe, but for today? You are heroes.

arrival for new recruits

If you didn't fight at Valmy, it means you're new to COST. Maybe you agreed to work with them, maybe you don't remember. It doesn't matter. You wake up in a Parisian hotel room with a kind woman standing near the door, waiting for you to awaken.

You have none of your clothing, just black military-issued underwear, and none of your previous possessions beyond the one you chose (if you remember choosing) to bring with you.

The woman by the door speaks French, and if you didn't understand the language before, you do now. If you have questions as to what's going on, she'll answer: you are a member of COST, a paramilitary organization of time travelers fighting against the Regency, a tyrannous kingdom of the future who are trying to stamp out freedom and individuality in the name of peace.

She will provide you with the clothing necessary to fit in at this time, and show you how to use your BCE implant to look up information on this time period and its social and political mores. She won't let you leave until you're properly dressed to fit in, but once you are, she'll wish you luck.



MISSION OBJECTIVE

Unlike the last two missions you may have faced with COST, this one isn't as straight forward as a battle. This is about information-gathering, keeping your ear to the ground, and watching.

Paris during the revolution, even early days like this, is rife with paranoia. Though the heroes of Valmy are treated with huge respect and admiration, that is a huge exception to the rule, one that will fade with time.

As it stands, everyone expects counter-revolutionary spies sent from Prussia and the Holy Roman Empire, or simply French monarchists, to take what freedoms the people of Paris have wrested for themselves. Whispers abound. Suspicions mount.

It's in the midst of this that COST has received information that the Regency has placed its spies within Paris. Their aims are currently unknown, but it's suspected they have some sort of machinations for the King and Queen. Paris has declared itself a republic, free of monarchial control, but the Regency may have other aims. It's imperative that COST operatives keep an eye open for any and all signs of suspicion.

It's just difficult, because so is everyone else in Paris.



CELEBRATE

Paris is in an uproar, excited by the return of some of its great heroes, the fighters at Valmy. Even if you didn't actively participate in the battle, if you were there, if you contributed at all, someone will want to shake your hand.

Of course, there's always rumors, and there's little way to prove one was actually at Valmy in this premodern era. Accusing, or being accused, of lying about this tremendous day is an excellent way to get into a fight. Be careful.

coffee break

At this time, high spirits in Paris are a dangerous thing. So many people on the streets inevitably leads to trouble: a riot breaks out.

You see, the shipment of more coffee from San Domingo is late, and this increases the price of the coffee already on the market. This may not seem like much, but the average citizen in Paris is very poor, and works upwards of twelve hours daily, often doing back-breaking or repetitive labor. Coffee is an essential ingredient to get them through the day, a stimulant to keep them from dropping flat. Price increases are even worse, then, because of certain laws put in place to stop this from happening. In an attempt to aid the poor, the National Convention has put price laws in place, decreeing that goods such as food and coffee cannot rise above a certain price. In view of the shortages, merchants have ignored these laws.

So a riot breaks out. People break shop windows, attack businesses, and fights break out left and right. In the chaos, it's difficult to tell friend from foe, and you may be attacked by someone who, hours ago, was shaking your hand and congratulating you. You may get swept up in the riot without meaning to. Or, hell, maybe you want to cause a little chaos and break some windows yourself.

Regardless, a riot is a calamitous thing; be careful. While it doesn't cease all of Paris-- Paris is a big place, after all-- it certainly takes a fair percentage of the streets, especially near markets.

One thing, though. It's very odd. Often, when these shops are broken into and goods are stolen, money is left behind. Generally, it's not the amount the shopkeeper was asking-- often, it's exactly the lower amount decreed by the National Convention's ignored law.

WITNESS A BEHEADING

But neither the riot nor the celebration overtakes all of Paris. There are other things going on. Like a beheading.

Jacques Cazotte is one of the first victims of the Terror that will sweep France in a couple months, though he didn't know it at the time. He is a monarchist, though, the very definition of the feared 'counter-revolutionaries' everyone believes live in secret throughout France, seeking to undermine the Revolution at any cost. (Convenient, considering the definition of what precisely a 'counter-revolutionary' is constantly shifting).

Many gather to watch his death, and cheer when the guillotine falls. The executioner holds up his head for all to see when the act is completed, and some may notice the eyes still blink and roll in their sockets. The crowd gasps and jostles closer to see more, but after that, there isn't much fanfare. The body and its head are shoved into a cart and taken away to be buried. The event is over.

Still, the people discuss with great excitement, happy the filthy monarchist, the counter-revolutionary, is dead and gone, and France is that much safer.

PLANT A LIBERTY TREE

Liberty trees are popping up all over Paris, and everyone wants to plant one (if only to say they have). They're any kind of tree, and people are plopping them down in any bit of soil they can find. It's a symbol of the revolution, of patriotism, of loyalty, of whatever the planter wants it to be. Join in, or you'll inevitably be invited to the activity. It's a great way to get an ear to the ground for gossip, or just an idea of how things are going in the city.

LISTEN TO A SPEECH

France was just recently declared a republic after literally hundreds of years of unbroken absolutist monarchism. People are a little excited. Attend political clubs to listen to the speeches on the subject, all with their own perspective (but nearly all very much in favor of the republic). Or maybe you'll see someone speechifying on a street corner, throwing their ideas out to the masses. People are forthright about their political opinions, because they feel like, for the first time in history, their political opinions actually matter. It's pretty exciting, if you're into that sort of thing.

If not, feel free to let people know. Giving public speeches is an active process, and the speech makers are expected to be able to keep up with the crowd. Heckle, argue back, debate, start a fight, whatever.

The major things being debated are what, exactly, to do with the king and queen now that France is a republic. Should they be executed? Should they be brought down to normal citizenship? Should they serve as figureheads, like in England, making France a constitutional monarchy? Is that a step backward or forward? Everyone has an opinion, and everyone wants to hear it.

However, if you're lucky, you might catch the rare debate on other subjects: women's suffrage (still unheard of), the correct price for bread and coffee, what to do about the slaves in San Domingo, and which countries to invade in the upcoming war. It's all on the table.

read the France setting infopages

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC PLURK DISCORD

Comments

inquisitor lavellan | dragon age | newbie | ota

[soulean]

i. witness a beheading ( heads will roll. )

Isene has never attended a public execution before. She has done her level best not to participate in one, in fact — she's enacted the Rite of Tranquility rather than have someone executed, and some might call that a fate worse than death, but the fact remains that Isene can't stand to have blood on her hands that wasn't put there by her enemy's own choice. Those who surrender, who come to her for justice to be dealt — that's different than battle. It is.

She's drawn up in the crowd, shuffled toward the scaffold in a sea of people. At first, she's vaguely interested — so much of this world is so unlike the one she came from, she wants to learn as much as she can — but when she begins to realize what's happening, her stomach turns.

"They can't possibly — what did he do, except disagree with the rest of you?"

It's the wrong thing to ask. A few of the people closest to her turn their heads toward her, and — oh. It's been a while since she was this afraid in a gathering of humans. Isene forces a laugh and begins to try to duck out of the gathering, but someone catches her sleeve and holds her there. She casts her eyes about, looking desperately for someone who might help her — if someone else can't get her out of this, she'll get out herself, and it will be considerably more obvious.

ii. plant a tree ( in a garden you'll never get to see.)

This, at least, is something familiar. The Dalish plant trees for their dead, so it's a bit of a reversal, true, but still — a community coming together to plant a symbol in the ground, one which will grow and thrive and be there for millennia to come... Yes, Isene knows this well.

She follows the group, ostensibly keeping an ear out for any noteworthy gossip, but really she just wants to take part in something she recognizes. Maybe this tree will be for Jacques Cazotte, beheaded for disagreeing with public opinion, or maybe it will be for the relatively simple Dalish life Isene is starting to lose hope of ever returning to. She'll think of something for it by the time it comes to planting, she's sure.

When she's given a sapling, Isene makes her way to a plot slightly further away from the group than some others, but she smiles at anyone who comes over.

"How exciting, no? A beautiful symbol for the rebirth of —" she pauses a moment, trying to remember where the heck they're supposed to be — "France!"

Nailed it.

i. heads are rolling

[pointedlook]

[ Of all the things he thought he'd be able to check off, see a beheading was not at the top of his list. Actually, he's pretty sure it wouldn't have made the list at all, had he not been drafted– er, kidnapped– by this mystery organization to fix history. And fight the Regency. That usually went hand in hand.

But hey, it's hard not to see a beheading during this period in French history, of that he's fairly certain. Arthur's read and paid attention enough in history classes to remember these facts. Nobody ever mentioned the palpable blood lust that seemed to hang around the crowds in a haze, but he figures that's a first-hand experience sort of deal.

Currently, he's watching them set the chopping block with another victim, hands in his pockets. Call it a morbid fascination, but he does want to see this happen. Unfortunately it seems he won't be able to this time, since someone nearby asks a question–a bad one– and he's zeroing in on them just as they are scanning for a way out.

Well. Alright.

Slipping through the crowd, he puts his hand on her shoulder, promptly giving the civilian who's got a hold of her sleeve the kindly fuck off expression. ]

A very major disagreement. Very. I think we're starting to lose track of them all, so maybe it's time for a break.

[ With that, he's giving her shoulder a pat that indicates she should follow. ]

[soulean]

( a saviour, thank the creators. isene ducks her head and follows the stranger easily — any other moment, and she might have made more of a fuss, might have demonstrated just how capable she is on her own, but in front of a pack of rabid humans is not the place to show off what a dangerous dalish is capable of. that dalish means nothing to these people does not matter — they're human, and she is an elf, and it is never a good idea to antagonize people to whom you are less than nothing. )

I misspoke, ( she says quietly, an explanation for anyone willing to listen, but she knows that if the people here are anything like the humans in thedas it won't matter. all they can do is get away from the crowd and lose them somewhere, and hope her face isn't too recognizable later. )

Thank you, ( she says to her rescuer, deliberately keeping her head down and her eyes from wandering back to check if anyone is following them, incensed by her words. if they are... well, she'll handle it. )

pprox 1000 years later IM SO SORRY

[pointedlook]

[ It's with a firm hand that he leads her away from the bloodthirsty crowd, gaze hard and straight ahead as they weave through the spaces between. It's crowded close to the makeshift stage, where they've set up the proceedings, but the bodies are less packed together the further they get away. Small blessings for being in an era where the average age didn't really exceed 40. Less population overall, really.

As soon as they're out of the immediate nuclear zone, as he's currently thinking of it, he slows his pace, removes his hand from her shoulder and sticks both in his pockets. ]

I'll skip the obvious questions– [ He starts, slanting a glance towards her. ] I'm Arthur, firmly not from here. You?

[ Enough to fill her in without giving too much away. And a chance to explain herself if she chooses to. It's easy to tell she's not from here, just like him, though there's always the bigger question of when she's from. ]

ii. plant a tree

[excelsus]

"Truly?" Nicely played Inquisitor, but Dorian is more than a little insulted by your tree dedication, if anything beautiful should be symbolic of anything, it should be of Dorian himself, "And here I thought you were planting a symbol in honor of the perfection that is yours truly. Have you already forgotten this face in such a brief time? True beauty that deserves to be recognized..."

He's obviously kidding, though not about being beautiful. He's beautiful. Handsome even. Gorgeous. Perfection to a fault. There is no denying that much, but a tree couldn't possibly capture such an essence, and it is her tree, he just wants to needle Lavellan a bit. Still, he crouches on the ground near to her, not to help of course. Tree planting involves dirt and Dorian does not do dirt. He puts up with enough dirt when they are fighting or taking on various missions, the Western Approach anyone? He swears he still has sand in places that he never knew existed before.

No, he'll leave the planting of trees to those who are more...interested.

[soulean]

Dorian. Isene brightens considerably at the friendly face, beaming up at Dorian with barely restrained glee. She'd hug him if she didn't have a handful of tree and appearances to think of, but she does elbow him a little — affectionately! — when he crouches next to her.

"Trees aren't symbols of perfection, serah, they're symbols of fertility and eternity. They last longer than any of us. If I wanted to pay homage to your truly unparalleled beauty, I could do far better than plant you a tree."

Where Isene might have needled Dorian a little in response back at Skyhold, here she's just so happy to see him she doesn't even make any comments about his very inflated opinion of himself. He is rather perfect, at least in this moment. As Isene said so many months ago — there's no one she'd rather travel through time, or, apparently, dimensions with.

II;

[hakanai]

Yoshitsugu has become good at putting on the mask now, and become familiar enough with the locals here that most no longer stare at face whenever he steps out. They greet 'Gyoubu' happily, and he offers them their own words and encouragement before striding over to Isene.

His mouth quirks just slightly as he kneels before her liberty tree.

"Indeed. A beautiful symbol of growth."

He leans in closer to the sapling and, making sure he's obscuring what he's about to do from anyone else, summons a few glimmering insects to sit at the tree's base. It's become his usual method of letting another know, in a public place, that he's 'one of the gang.' After all, visible magic is very obviously not something the people of this time and place knows about. The glowing dragonflies flap their wings for only a few beats before fading away completely.

With that symbol offered, he says quietly enough for only her to hear:

"Don't worry about remembering the name of this country; try using the kind of nonsense I just told you instead. Less chance of making yourself even more suspicious."

And then, more loudly?

"Its trunk will grow as thick and strong as the new era we craft for ourselves. Well done!"

[soulean]

Her new companion's approach makes Isene's shoulders tense up before she forces herself to relax — she's no good at infiltration work, Leliana and Bull have both hounded her on it — but the magic is what lets her breathe easy, a genuine smile summoned up in response. That, at least is familiar, and she uses the bulwark the man in front of her makes to set her fingers sparking, showing off her own magic without drawing attention. The sparks die down in a moment, and Isene nods seriously in response to his advice. Yes, she can do that — vague, but pointed enough anyone listening will infer meaning and give her more information to use in their response.

COST really should have reached out to Leliana or Bull instead, they'd be great at this.

"Clever," she whispers, rueful, beginning to dig a hole for her tree.

[hakanai]

Combining an intelligent mind with a somewhat sly personality and a philosophy of 'going with the flow' makes this kind of work easy for Yoshitsugu... well. Most of the time, amongst certain sorts of people. Amongst others he just gets labelled as suspicious and thrown in dungeons, which is really rather unfair.

His mouth quirks just a little when he sees those sparks.

"I am, but that's not." He moves to assist with the digging, working slow and careful, but that ghost of an amused smile lingers as he does so. "Making it easier for yourself could even be called a productive way of being lazy. Saves your energy for something more worthwhile."

[soulean]

Isene wouldn't know how to "go with the flow" even if someone actually sat her down and explained the concept to her. The course of the future requires an active hand to direct it, and maybe hers isn't the best hand, but surely she'd do better than the shems have been doing for the past hundreds of years, right?

But that's neither here nor there, and rather more serious than the conversation at hand. She listens as her companion speaks, and smiles brightly when he begins to assist her digging. This is something she had missed having with her clan, a connection to nature and each other that's hard to foster surrounded by stone walls with rooms separating everyone. His advice even reminds her of Deshanna, though Lavellan's Keeper probably wouldn't advocate for any kind of laziness, productive or otherwise.

"I'll keep that in mind," she says finally. "My name is Isene. It's a pleasure to meet you."

[hakanai]

Yoshitsugu offers a brief bow of the head instead of polite words, glancing over at Isene thoughtfully when he replies. He's measuring her up, as he does all allies he meets; can't be a good strategist without knowing what you have to work with and so he can't afford to be complacent.

"You can call me Gyoubu."

The way he phrases it makes it clear it's not his real name; at this point Yoshitsugu is getting sadly used to the threats the Regency (probably) hold and only using his real name in private meetings with other members of COST. Granted there's little they could do to erase a man like himself; a war orphan who doesn't even know exactly who his own parents were? Who lived a life deliberately keeping himself mysterious? No, it's his loved ones that might pay the price if the enemy decides Yoshitsugu is dangerous to their cause.

Which he fully intends to be.

"I assume that's not your full name?"

[soulean]

If there's one thing Isene is used to, it's being looked at with an appraising eye by humans. She doesn't shrink under Gyoubu's, but she doesn't overtly challenge him, either — instead she continues her work as if there's no subtext to this conversation. Whatever he makes of her, she can use to her advantage, whether he finds her lacking or formidable or somewhere in between. Infiltration is not her strong suit, but diplomacy, reading people, understanding them, playing them... That is.

"Is my full name important?" she demurs, looking up at Gyoubu from under her fringe, doing a little assessment of her own. A man who is unwilling to give his real name should understand why she hesitates to give her own, and if he betrays any agitation... Well, maybe she shouldn't have been so quick to trust.

Another lesson the Iron Bull and Leliana have been trying to teach her for months now.