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

I WILL AWAIT THIS APP.

[ryuji]

[Philosophical debate aside about whether or not they have to keep the timeline correct in order to move forward to a future that they all can share in common, Ryuji doesn't really get any of this. He's asked it before: if they're literally in the past, then have they always been here, is it just unwritten in history that COST were the ones who worked as agents in the revolution to move it to happen, so that at some point in the future, they realize that they have to go back in time to affect the chain of events, and ensure that it happens anyway. Like a closed loop.

But this conversation here; this is an open Lup. This is an actual concern that Ryuji doesn't have the answer to. Not even a smidgen of understanding about what's right in all of this dumb mess. Just a few orders to go by and the lofty goal of... LET'S GO AND SAVE THE FUCKIN' UNIVERSE. Because why not? He's always wanted to be a hero.

Too bad that you can't be a hero without splitting a few hairs. Or heads.

God, this is so fucked.]

You wanna...

You wanna mess this shit up? It's makin' me sick to my stomach to watch.

[tommygunned]

[The grin that splits her face is as bright as wildfire and promises as much destruction. She's not angry, not yet, not properly, but she's frustrated and feeling impotent already, and if there's anything she hates it's not being able to change things.]

[But the truth is that fate's a scary fairy tale that people tell their kids to convince them not to try and make things better. Fuck that. She feels lighter already, knowing somebody else is as restless and uncomfortable as she is. Even if he's just a kid. Kids get pissed like anybody else.]

Speaking my language. As long as you don't mind a little firepower, I'm fuckin' ready whenever you are.

[Time for bad but deeply satisfying choices.]

[ryuji]

[Truth, Ryuji has a ton of anger and no place good to put it these days, so maybe he should just get up off his ass and actually forget about right or wrong and get his goddamn hands dirty. Lup, you're such a good influence. He looks over to her, nods his head, and grits his fists into tight, balled up weapons. It might not be enough, but it's all he has at the moment, and he's not about to start thundering down lightning in every direction into a crowd of innocent and, well, definitely guilty people.]

Fire away.

[Ryuji brushes into the Frenchman in front of him, slamming his body. When he turns around to catch a glimpse of the person who bodychecked him, Ryuji looks aghast, and turns around to the person behind him. It's a game of conceit, and he breathes out a heavy---] Dude, what the fuck? Hey, man, gimme a hand---

[before slamming his fist straight into the jaw of the guy behind him.

Bad life choices all around, but the guy in front? He thinks that it was the guy behind, the one that just got punched, that's rowdy, and soon enough a small fight is breaking out between the three of them. 2 on 1.

Better life choices were made in the course of Ryuji's life, but hell, if this isn't one he wants to completely own up to. He shares a side smirk at Lup as he gets knocked on the shoulder by a 3rd onlooker.

A french revolution mosh pit.

Sweet ass.]

[tommygunned]

[Lucky for her, the noise in the room's already ramping up when she lets out a loud, barking laugh. Fuck, but he's clever, isn't he? Good at bad life choices, which, let's face it: so is she.]

[It makes her a little homesick, makes her think of Magnus at his worst and most reckless, bloody-knuckled with scars all over from broken bones. He'd do this, he'd pull exactly this shit, and has, with her, back about, oh, fifty-sixty years ago.]

[But Magnus isn't here. It's her and this kid and a bunch of French assholes, which means she's got three jobs: teach these pompous dicks a lesson, keep the kid from being trampled, and make her family proud.]

[So when a twitch of her fingers makes sparks fly from the speech platform, startling the front row of onlookers into shrieks and collisions with the second row--well, she's still grinning. She's grinning when somebody bumps into her in their rush to get away from the sparks (which are already dying down, dumbasses, they probably think it's witchcraft and they're almost right); she turns on her heel and elbows the fucker hard in the nose. The sick crunch of bone satisfies her, and she's got the momentum now to spin and shove someone to her other side. When they turn to look at her, she stumbles to the side, looking shocked like she's just been struck, before kicking out sideways to knock the guy's legs out from under him.]

[He crumples to the ground. She kicks him in the ass, just one time, for good measure, and then moves along. Circling through the crowd, spreading a delicious amount of chaos, and always keeping Ryuji in her eyeline.]

[At some point, she sort of gets fed up and suplexes a guy into a bunch of other guys. She knows that if she wasn't already going to stand out, she will now, but. Honestly. Worth it.]

[ryuji]

[That's the problem, isn't it? When you've lived over 100 lives, you stop getting amazed by all the little things that trip people up. Like Ryuji, who hasn't done anything like this in his entire life, entirely enthused with the result as the people around him start to get worse- humming with a certain level of vibration to the mob like it's becoming a living, breathing thing.

And Lup? Fuck, she's fantastic at making a scene catch wildfire like this spot had just become Tokyo's hottest pop up shop as the crowds rush to and from. He's busy, his attention divided between dodging and throwing out punches, but he can't help but giddily smirk as he sees her suplex a dude into another dude, into another dude. It's human bowling, and she's lined up for a perfect score.]

YO, I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE ON MY TEAM HERE, MAN.

[Right before he gets a punch right to the head, and everything goes pitch white for a second, his vision dizzying for a second. Damn. Staggering for a second, he hangs back, just nearly missing another punch that instead gets planted right into another guy, until he's stepping over his body and ducking under the crowd. He knows they can't see him when he does this, or he's in Deep Shit, but momentarily, he knuckles for his mask, places it straight over his face, and shouts something nearly unintelligible--- Matarukaja!!!!--- as Lup should feel all of her energies pooling, becoming deadlier and stronger by the second, until he can safely put his mask back into the fold of his sash and come back up for air.

The next punch Ryuji lands creates a stir of energy just at the contact point, and maybe someone who's trained in the arcane arts can sense ability enhancing magic like Ryuji had just used- but it's pretty easy to see his target's body slam backward, taking down an entire row of people in a straight line.

He gives a thumbs up to Lup, and smirks. He's alright. Don't worry about him, it's just a bloody nose.]

We gotta break the guillotine!

[tommygunned]

[Her head jerks around at the sound of his voice just in time to catch that thump to the head. Eyes narrowing, she prepares a fireball, ready to take down anyone and everyone taking advantage of that momentary pause--a concussion? maybe, she doesn't know, he better get up--but Ryuji's okay. When he looks up he'll probably see her expression shift back to relaxed, violent swagger from tense. Okay. He's okay.]

[And she's--strong. Always is, but whatever he just did, whatever he just yelled, it feels like fire under her skin. More than feels; there's a moment when she just ignites, fire streaming all across her skin so it looks like it's consuming her.]

[It doesn't hurt. It never hurts. It feels good. In a second it dies down, a few last sparks jumping off her, but it's stunned everyone in her immediate vicinity and even caused a few burns. Sorry not sorry. She looks at their faces and sees that, oh, they have to break the guillotine and get out of here because this mob is gonna become a different kind of mob before too, too long. But.]

[Yeah, there's time to break that guillotine.]

[With a snap of her fingers, she sprays covering fire at the circle of men around her. They leap back, hissing and yelping in pain, and in that moment Lup nods sharply over their heads.]

Do the honors!

[Because she thinks--well. It seems like he could use it. It seems like he probably wants to. And who is she to discourage that?]

[ryuji]

[One day in the future, controlled demolition will become a thing, and the engineers of that day will look back to days like this and see the force of humanity is rather a primitive thing, for the most part. No wrecking balls, no bulldozers, just angry fists and a fever for violence that can't be contained by the inner workings of dollies and levers. He hears the encouragement from Lup; it's all he needs to make a break for the Guillotine.

What started out as a simple mission- destroy the object of destruction (he didn't know how fucking familiar that concept was to Lup, but minor details)- had become the inciting of a riot that would sprawl for several hours, bringing it to a critical mass of pissed off people with other outlet then the grim visages of their brothers' faces. To which Ryuji has lost any sense of decency towards as he makes dents in them, riling through and propelling himself forward until he gets to the stage.

It looks more terrible up close- more lethal, and yet somehow this was considered a humane way to die. No, not die, rather, executed. People didn't die here. They were murdered. His teeth grit, the effects of the emboldening enchantment coursing through his hands like ephemeral waves of energy surrounding his fists. For a moment, that rage is completely out of control, consuming him, lighting him like a phoenix in its last breathes to burn everything to the ground and let it rise up from the ashes; his anger, his inability to be placated by everything fucking wrong with society.

And he punches.

The wood frame cracks- and a second punch is all it needs to come crashing down, the blade falling, for the last time, no head under it to whet its insatiable lust for decapitation. He looks out over the crowd, circling closer as they realize their god of destruction frowns upon them in its last breaths- the guillotine, a monster destroyed. Ryuji's chest heaves, as he watches, feels the crowd scream and turn their attention to their new target- himself.

Time to get lost, fast.]

[tommygunned]

[Lup--whoops. Thrilled, delighted, proud. Proud's the biggest one, actually. She loves finding people like this, who she can be a bad influence on, whose anger boils over into something explosive and productive. She wants to see the world set on fire and reborn from the ashes, sometimes. She can't fucking help it.]

[Out of nowhere, a scythe materializes in her hands--handle in, handle in. She bops a couple people on the head with it, turns it on its end and whacks a few others in the side, on the hip, a couple in the butt. It's just enough of a distraction that a few people get pissed and start yelling, mostly at each other, some at her but not so many she can't handle it.]

[She gives Ryuji a double thumbs up over the crowd.]

Get going! I'll find you, five minutes, go go go!