padam, padam, padam

[crownless]

WHO? Travis crownless and Henry handsomefoil
WHAT? let's be real, they weren't gonna not meet in the midst of total chaos.
WHEN? à Paris, 1792
ANYTHING ELSE? did you know that a people stampede involving fatalities is known as a "crush"? cause uhhh warning for a crush, other extraneous violence, and these guys' foul mouths.

[In hindsight? Agreeing to this gig was a stupid idea.

Hell, he can barely remember his recruitment to begin with. (He does, however, remember the bite of cheap liquor and sour bile in the back of his throat; he hears the field operative's voice in a hazy corner of his mind, as tempting and sing-song as hers had been, the night he'd signed his life away to the UAA.) But that was just what these last few years of his life had been like, right? One after the other, every exciting chapter in the messed up story of his life had simply picked up in media res. Hardly any time to make sense of it. Never any time to breathe.

It just hadn't been literal until now.

Pathetic. The Crownless King, the assassin whose name was urban legend-- trampled to death by a bunch of dirty French rioters a couple hundred-odd years away from home. Buffeted by the crowd, Travis is bounced back and forth as he shoves limbs and elbows firmly outward, fighting his way to the edge of the mass of bodies.]

Get out of my way!

[--he shouts, but it's met by a wayward fist in his face... and without the anachronistic shades in the way it smashes him square in the eyes. Travis curses again, and teeters. If he loses his footing, stops the perpetual motion that's keeping him afloat in this sea, he's a goner.]

Just let me get to the stupid-- [he's elbowed in the stomach, and he wheezes] -- ffffucking buildings n' I can climb out!

Comments

[crownless]

[He swears (under his breath this time, at least) as he casts a glance over his shoulder at the small handful of pursuers that've kept on going.]

I don't even have a jump button.

[Luckily, he spots the barrels Henry'd scaled right away. Travis is scrambling up right away; met with a hand on his ankle, he drives his heel back into the perpetrator's nose and continues his ascent.

It's a climb, of course. But with a final grunt of effort, Travis hoists himself up the edge of the roof and to Henry's side. Just. Give him a minute to stand.]

I dunno how you do this shit so quickly.

[handsomefoil]

[ He doesn't even have to look over, the sound of scuffling feet and palms slapping at surfaces and other footholds tells him enough about Travis's grace. Instead, he just keeps a watchful eye on the horizon and making sure nothing comes flying towards him. ]

Mm, called practice. Lots of off-screen practice. Been doing this since I was just a wee lad, you know.

[ Taking a hold of one of the tools that the crowd threw at him, just laying on the ground, he tosses it back into the sea. ]

What were you doing down there, anyway?

[crownless]

[There's a telltale thunk and a shriek, which signals that the object Henry's thrown has hit some sort of mark.]

What else? Tryin' to get through. Do I look like some kinda French revolutionary?

[He gestures down at himself... but... based off the commoner's clothes that his hostess had lent him? He totally does.]

I just arrived. Woke up in some hotel only kinda knowing about COST. [He scoffs.] Guess I'm graduating from one shady organization to the next.

[handsomefoil]

[ Henry gives him a brief once over when the question is asked and following the gesture with his eyes. His expression clearly says 'Uh, yes?', but he keeps it to himself. He gets the idea. ]

Seems you're just attracted to the intrigue. Think you've learned your lesson yet?

[ He smirks, not like he's in any better of a situation himself here. ]

[crownless]

Shut up. S'part of my charm-- I'd be boring otherwise.

[you know the exact indignant intonation he's givin rn.]

You're stuck tagging along, anyway. And speaking of...

[With a nudge of his head, Travis gestures to a rooftop near them.]

If you got stuck in the same hotel as me, I know how to get back to it. No use staying here and fighting off a bunch of angry rioters.

[handsomefoil]

Oh, I wouldn't say that. Maybe they'll give you a spin-off. Flex your creative muscles a bit.

[ That last bit gets a very obvious head-turn from Henry. He tries so very hard not to raise an eyebrow at him. ]

Guess you're right about that. Lead the way, then.

[ Now, would he navigate the crowds? Or try to find a path around them? ]