let fury have the hour,

[agogemod]

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Agoge's third TDM! And the death of an important guy. And some very upset royalty.
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 new recruits

(Note: If you were one of the people who used the previous TDM and want to use that as canon while still participating in this one, feel free! The following will still happen, though the guide will apologize for a malfunction in your BCE causing you to zap through the intervening month instead of joining your comrades like you should have. You'll be assured the glitch is fixed now, and it probably is. Probably.)

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.

KILL THE KING

It doesn't matter if you're new, or if you've been here a while. You'll hear about the execution going on today. It's as though the barely restrained urban chaos of Paris has ground to a halt. Everything is about the king. Is it really going to happen? Are they really going to do it? Can they do it? Is it even possible?

Anyone out of the loop will be filled in, but with no small amount of ridicule: Today is the day of the king's execution. His trial has wrapped up, and the National Convention voted to execute him for treason and tyranny.

The crowd at the execution is enormous, a riotous mob of passion barely restrained. Everyone is jockeying for a better view, with children and adults climbing up on nearby statues, lampposts, the sides of houses, rooves, some even hang from windows. Everyone watches the scaffold.

The prison cart arrives with no fanfare save the yells of the crowd. Within it sits a small, fat little man, looking like he's doing his best to remain composed. He's brought to the scaffold, and his crimes are read out: colluding with foreign powers, and the crime of royalty, which is anathema to the republic of France.

When asked for his final words, Louis Capet, known to some as King Louis XVI, speaks in a quiet voice. "I forgive my enemies."

When the blade comes down, the crowd errupts into cheers. Many rush forward to touch the blood of a king, dipping bits of cloth in it in an attempt to save it.

I PREDICT A RIOT

It's as though all the built up tension in Paris exploded when the king was killed.

Who knows what started it. Rumors spread like wildfire, and it doesn't matter, does it? In the end, most of Paris is swarmed with chaos, especially in the areas nearest to where the king was executed. There's no doubt that the riot and the king's death are directly related; no peasant currently throwing stones and breaking windows will deny it.

Fights are happening with great frequency. It only takes a word, a half sentence, for someone to decide you're some kind of counter-revolutionary. There is a current of anxiety in Paris that hasn't gone away; after reaching a fever pitch, it has expressed itself with violence and chaos.

let's visit the tuileries

The Tuileries was the royal palace in Paris, the last residence of the king before his death. Of course the people of France end up clamoring at its gates, screaming profanities and attempting to scale them.

The majority of the guard let them do this, making only the most token of efforts to keep the peasantry back. But one guard, a man by the name of Antoine Colin, seems to become spooked and shoots repeatedly into the crowd before someone knocks him out.

By then, though, it's too late. The crowd was rambunctious, but not murderous. Now it's bloodthirsty, and the gates are stormed. It isn't long before the common people of France are trampling through the corridors of power. Inside, they'll mostly find servants running and hiding, and lots of valuables to steal.

Most are content with that, but not all. Some clamor for the deaths of the queen and the royal children-- per the laws of inheritance, Marie Capet's remaining son is now King of France. Should he not die as well?

The queen is hidden in a safe room, a hollow wall inside her apartments. Do you try to find her? Try to save her? Try to kill her yourself?

...And what about those kids hiding in there with her?

BRING IN THE TROOPS

The riot in the Tuileries lasts several hours, well past nightfall. It's beginning to peter off, people loosing their energy or vigor, when the sound of gunfire echoes from the front courtyard.

General Lafayette has arrived to save the queen, and brought with him a retinue of personal soldiers. All on horseback, brandishing firearms and sabers, they stream through the expansive halls of the Tuileries and attack anyone who looks out of place. They're here to clean up this mess with no concern for more filthy peasants getting in the way.

Aftermath

The night is a long one. Several fires break out in various parts of Paris, shops are looted, and several die in the Tuileries. The queen has disappeared, along with Lafayette. Some say she and Lafayette died, and they'll show you the bodies for a couple sou. Others claim they saw them riding off into safety just before sunrise. There are already talks of hunting them down, trying to find the traitors.

Only one thing is known for sure: It may be advisable to stay inside for the foreseeable future.

read the France setting infopages

NAV NETWORK LOGS OOC PLURK DISCORD

Comments

keyleth of the air ashari | critical role | painfully new

[fernbeleafer]

"blending" in, level 1 (kill the wabbit king)

[ she can't stop fussing with the cap she's pulled down over the large, pointed ears that would give her away.

it's partly nerves brought on by the abject discomfort she's grappling with. when she sees a fellow cost member looking at her pointedly, keyleth drops both hands down at her sides and stiffens up. if she didn't already look entirely guilty and out of her depth, her bug-eyes would certainly give her away. ]

Uhh. Hi. [ a wave and a whisper: ] Can you uhm-- you can't see them, can you? My ears, I mean. They're kinda big and this thing is really itchy--

[ yeah, you might have to interrupt her. ]

"blending" in, level 2 (riot girl)

Maximally Robe Spear?

[ keyleth's nose crinkles, and she fishes a notepad and quill out of ... somewhere. ]

How do you spell that, again? And like, you know. What's his whole deal? Is he cool?

[ ok yep she just got punched in the nose. oww. did anyone see where her notepad landed? ]

"blending" in, level 3 (after the party it's the hotel lobby)

[ in the aftermath, rumors of a large white cat having rampaged through the palace spreads.

you could have sworn you saw something large and white with black stripes disappear into some brush around the cost-built tents. will you investigate? ]

kill the king

[frogfractions]

[Prelati stares at the mess of a girl to her right - she couldn't be more obvious if she tried. Her body language, her constant shout-whispering, the way she keeps fidgeting with her cap -

Prelati grumbles as she reaches up to adjust the girl's hat for her, yanking it down over her ears roughly.]

Calm down. [It's said in an exasperated sigh.] Everyone has bigger things on their minds. They've just executed a king. Nobody's going to care, essentially. We don't matter.

Unless you keep wanting us to matter. So for both our sakes, calm down.

[fernbeleafer]

[ air wooshes out of her lungs and her nose in a gust. ]

Right! Of course, yeah. Calming down, that's me. Calm, calm, calm. Calm like an iceberg. [ another woosh as she does her best to chill. unfortunately, that doesn't cure her of the awkward... ] I guess public death celebrations make me nervous, is all.

[frogfractions]

[Prelati might not be a priest anymore, but there's still an urge to beg God for patience. Dear Lord, this woman.

Prelati lowers her hand from her head, then slowly, gently lowers it, palm even, as if trying to physically lower the other woman's anxiety.]

I've seen plenty of executions. They're banal, once you get used to them. Just death. If it bothers you, you can keep your head low and your eyes on the ground.

[fernbeleafer]

Seriously?

[ seems like maybe someone heard those not quite prayers of prelati's, as keyleth's demeanor shifts, dampening into a solemn, quiet shock. ]

How many executions, exactly?

2

[horsepowered]

[Chiron's intent with regards to the riots was to try and get anyone who looked as if they weren't truly a part of the riot crowd out of there. No one needed to get caught up in a frenzied crowd and sustain injuries, and right now, that was one of the few things that could remotely be controlled.

So when he sees someone taking notes during a riot? That's the tell tale sign of someone who absolutely shouldn't be there. Chiron doesn't waste time with politeness this time. Especially with the now bloodied nose. He just weaves through the crowd and gently reaches for Keyleth's wrist.]

This way if you don't want to get wrapped up in where this crowd is headed.

[fernbeleafer]

Ah-- oww! Hey!

[ she whirls, first backward with the blow and then forward with the offered guidance. it's with curiosity that she follows, as something about chiron feels ... homey? it pulls at a string in her heart, the sensation of a canopy of leaves above and the padded bedding of them underfoot.

she blinks through the sting of the hit, shaking away the sprung tears to look around her feet as she goes. ]

Aww, man. I worked really hard on those, today!

[ a lament, and no more, once she spots what she thinks might be a tail???? ]

[horsepowered]

A work is recoverable. Injuries from a riot take more time to do the same.

[Chiron's nothing if not swift in his movements, cutting through the rioting crowd with an ease that someone honestly shouldn't have.]

I presume you can recall what you wrote?

[fernbeleafer]

I spent rent on that paper...

[ get over it, kiki! ]

I mean yes. I can make new notes. [ huff, puff. ] Where are we going, exactly?

2

[softhearted]

Oh—

[ It happens so quickly that Alexander can do nothing to stop it, but he pushes through the crowd afterwards, saying, ] Pardon— excuse me. I'm sorry, I said... excuse me, can I—? [ It feels like forever, but he keeps his eyes trained on her, and finally he makes his way to Keyleth, exhausted after his attempts to politely navigate a riot. ]

You're bleeding, miss. [ As if she didn't already know. He fishes through his coat pocket for a handkerchief, lifting it, poised to dab at the blood but stopping at the last moment, as if he thinks it might be improper to clean the blood from a lady's face without asking first. ] May I?

[fernbeleafer]

[ hahaha what are words??????? ]

Uhh-- [ smooth. ] No! [ ...real smooth. ] Wait, I mean-- not like no how dare you just. I don't want to ruin your tissue ... thingy.

[ she holds one hand out to stave off bloodying up alexander's offering, and covers her face for a moment. glowing purple light reflects off of her already-red cheeks. ]

[softhearted]

[ He goes through a minor face journey as she talks, from surprised to confused to mildly amused at the misunderstanding. Certainly, he isn't in any position to judge her awkwardness. What he is in a position to do, however, is worry about what she's doing making her stick out; glowing purple light stands out on the mundane streets of Paris, and he glances around furtively to ensure no one has seen her do whatever it is she's just done.

He returns his handkerchief to his pocket and lowers his voice. ]

If... you don't mind the inquiry, [ he starts, ] what is that you've done?

[fernbeleafer]

Hm?

[ her eyes pop wide with the realization of her grave error. keyleth launches into another ramble, with plenty of contradictions for flavor. ]

Oh. Oh! It's uhh a special thing. Nothing, really. Just err-- herbs! It's herbs. They're nothing special. Just special herby herbs?

[ and her hand is still covering her face because nobody's going to believe that herbs can fix a broken nose and also erase blood. ]

3

[mylawn]

[76 is, perhaps, more invested than most in the outcome of all this. It largely has to do with the fact that he's from here, in the loosest sense--this is part of his world's history, and even though he doesn't come along for another few hundred years, every tiny change they make (inadvertently or no) could have catastrophic repercussions down the line. What's happening right now is proof of that. Perhaps that's made him more attuned to things that Should Not Be.

Something about a large white cat fits that description. Perhaps it's nothing, but given the fact they've already altered the course of how this was supposed to go (or at least, were unable to correct the outside interference that set them on this course), he doesn't want to take any chances. 76 follows the rumors, increasingly convinced that he's dealing with someone or something from COST who hasn't quite realized that discretion is the name of the game.

He's not sure what he'll be dealing with, exactly, so he's armed and proceeding with caution, taking off in pursuit as soon as he sees a blur of motion that most definitely does not belong to a human.]

[fernbeleafer]

[ the deep rumble from the throat of the white tiger is primal, though not quite a roar. 76 gets a good look at the big cat, at first just rubbing its face on the trunk of a tree before deeming it worthy of a backscratcher.

keyleth gets a few wiggles in before she picks up the scent of a human, and jumps like a housecat startled by a cucumber. quick like a bunny, she dives behind a bush.

it does provide a decent amount of cover. except for the white tail. and the white ears that she doesn't tuck back when she peeks up over the bush at her new ... friend? ]

[mylawn]

[He hears that growl and knows definitively that something is here that shouldn't be--that's not the sound of a dog or a cat. It gives him a glimpse, which is more than enough. That's a tiger. That's not supposed to be here, and even 76's military discipline doesn't stop him from taking a Moment.

The problem (aside from the fact that he is now chasing a tiger) is that he doesn't know what he's dealing with. Is this some kind of fluke? Is the Regency sending tigers, now? Is this a fellow COST agent, and if so, how the heck does that work?

It's not attacking him yet--but yet is the operative word, and 76 does his very best not to make any sudden movements, gun twitching upward ever-so-slightly.]

[fernbeleafer]

[ she ducks behind the bush for a moment. there's another quiet yelp when she realizes her tail's still giving her away, and it yanks in to tuck around her.

she peeks up again, round white ears giving way to two bright, soft eyes.. ]

Brrt?

[ a sound that you'd except from a tabby, welcoming you home at the door. hello, sir? just a large tiger taking a break. got any tuna? ]

ears

[rhododendronhoney]

It's okay, they're hidden pretty well. [Cori gives a gentle smile.] I'm sorry we're on such a tight schedule, but maybe when we have time I can make you something better. Or at least make that more comfortable. [She's an enchanter, after all. And hats are pretty easy to make compared to gloves.]

[fernbeleafer]

Really?

[ her smile warms and genuine excitement takes over. ]

That would be amazing! What would you ask in return? I'm afraid I don't have much, but I've been known to do some crafting in my time...

[rhododendronhoney]

[Cori smiles back, looking excited.] Well, I do quite a bit of crafting myself, although I'm not that good at carving. Do you do those? [There's a pause.] I'd like to learn too, not just have you make something for me.

[fernbeleafer]

I think I could manage that, sure!

[ at keyleth's outburst, she gets a few stares and quiets down again, leaning in so that her dropped voice is still audible to cori-- ]

It's more fun with a friend anyway. I'm Keyleth.

kill the king

[macginger]

They're about to kill that royal fucker up there. Ain't no one here who's going to give a shit about your ears, love.

[Sweeney was watching the entire affair indifferently, but her ears had distracted him. But that was only because seeing a mob like this wasn't as interesting to him as the whole everything else that came with it. He was wondering what she was and where she came from.]

[fernbeleafer]

[ shock takes over at first, for sweeney' bluntness isn't what she was expecting. ]

Well, it's always nice to look on the bright side of things.

[ the words are naive at best, but her smirk turns a little mischievous. keyleth may seem a little pure and prude but in truth she prefers speaking so plainly. it means she can do the same. ]

You're staring. They're just ears.

[macginger]

Yeah, like a fucking vulcan.

[... or elf, but the elfs he had been acquainted with didn't have ears like that. The fair folk that did go in for that sort of thing didn't stop at just quirky lobes and a splash of freckles. But whatever, he wasn't going to be distracted by that.

He turned his attention back to the execution. The king was saying something now.]

You hear that? He forgives us.

[fernbeleafer]

[ her excitement at this man's obvious familiarity with some sort of volcano elemental is brief and barely felt. keyleth frowns, and wonders aloud-- ]

He speaks in panic. People say all kinds of things before they die.