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

it's the thought that counts, chiron!

[dipolar]

(chiron's sudden appearance is far more worrisome in that moment than the slow approach of wary and weary soldiers. teleportation. hei finds himself taking another skid back across layered shingles on the shallowly peaked roof, dropping into a low crouch with a palm down to steady the stance.

the men chiron addresses would've likely been receptive if not for this, getting another warning shot from a guard's yew bow and a colourful cussing. its arrow strikes between them and the men speak with far less confident explanations. a puzzled, "we're told to look for shady types and here's one now, take a good look at him — he isn't even from here!" from the left; a frustrated, "sitting on a roof and for what? biding time till the castle's ready to loot, ah?" from the right.

racist or dimwitted, if there's much of a difference.)

Move. I'll leave. (hei's voice is quiet, but carries surprisingly well despite the lacklustre delivery.

eyes don't leave the hostile duo but the spirit who joins the fray is spoken to with the same monotony, making it obvious that they're all being placed on the same level in this dubious mind. oh, to loathe having faith in people at the best of times, paranoia no longer a perception but a personality trait. the man did hocus-pocus himself into simply appearing.)

... All of you.

and therefore no one can criticize him!

[horsepowered]

[Chiron's immediate reaction is to frown at the complete idiot who's wasting arrows on nothing at all. While it is actually a net good: one less arrow to injure the general populace storming the place, it also is a poor reflection on the guards themselves.

Hei's reaction provokes a similar sort of response. The expectation Chiron had was that the distraction would be enough time and enough of a signal for him to get away. But if this was how it was going to be, then he was not going to argue with it.

Instead, Chiron holds up both of his hands, placating.]

Very well.

;)

[dipolar]

(asking actually worked?

... it never works.

aims a sidelong stare at chiron, brow pinched in a bare look of skepticism. he won't deny the possibility of this all being some kind of lie in order to lay into him with a pincer-attack, but with the two frenchmen still deliberating their own course of action— well. hei's never been one to stick around.

or spare much mercy for those who cross him.

it's obvious, then, where hei's going with the billhook he holds out by his side, off like a shot towards the soldiers who bark in surprise at the unforeseen rush and scramble to grab for weapons far more closely matched in range. impossible, with the speed he bolts forward at with all intents to kill them and find a more practical way off of the roof that doesn't involve jumping. or getting anywhere near the one capable of teleportation.)

You're in my way.

(sorry, chiron, chaos is in his blood.)

[horsepowered]

[Chiron doesn't know what he expected, really. There's some pleasure in being absolutely blindsided in a fight to be sure, after all, that is a rarity, but it also leaves him absolutely no time to react.

The guards are free to do whatever they need, and the young man has made it clear that help is nothing he wants. So Chiron instead leaps backwards against the roof, moving upward swiftly to avoid being in range.

There's a little bit of childishness in the movement boiling down to a retort of well now I'm not, but Chiron is loathe to leave the scene just yet.]

[dipolar]

(didn't want to spill any unnecessary blood, but desperate times... he's been hounded all day by these military dogs and looking for peace has never been higher on his list of priorities. he needs to think — that is how they're in his way — and the muskets the soldiers whip up are no match for a contractor. the guns don't go off, the barrels stay quiet, and two men lacking the calibre of training hei's received drop heavily to the rooftop.

blood is whipped off of the flat, mottled blade of the civilian billhook. he turns to make sure they're comfortably dead and to assess the last threat still watching from a distance. fair enough, now he's suffering a real disadvantage. close to medium range is his bubble of expertise and chiron stands just outside of it.

a pause, a slow sweep of his arm towards the bodies.) Are you affiliated with me, or just trying to keep the peace?

[horsepowered]

If the term COST has been explained, then yes. [But there's no denying the second question deserves a response as well.] As far as motives, mostly I'd rather not see harm done to the civilian populace.

[Chiron's primary weapon is a bow, but that also doesn't mean he is uncomfortable with close range either. He trained heroes in his lifetime, and that wasn't just because of his skill with a bow.]

I see my presence was superfluous here.

[dipolar]

It has. (confirms chiron's suspicions, greeting his "comrade" with a far looser posture.) So if that's it, we have no reason to fight.

(straightening up and out of his tenseness. not all of it, but a fraction — he's never one to let his guard down.)

Who are you?

[horsepowered]

Chiron.

[For his own part, Chiron is visibly relaxed. The stance is on purpose, meant to give the young man an indication that he can relax far more than he has. Not that he has any expectation that it'll take.]

You don't need to offer a name if you don't wish to.

[dipolar]

(thinks he recognizes it, the name he's presented with — but he's met so many people with such wide varieties of codename and he's not exactly a greek history buff.)

... It's Hei. (fine by him, it's short, sweet, and easy to remember.

if they're teammates now, he should cooperate despite his disinclination to do so. it's the smart thing to do, practiced in being thrown from one squad to the next.)

They're protecting the Queen. Won't killing her put an end to this?

[horsepowered]

[The name feels like permission to come down from his spot on the roof, and so Chiron does so. He comes to stand at the edge, looking over all of those entering the palace.

It gives him time to genuinely consider Hei's question as well. And when he does answer, it isn't one Chiron takes any delight in giving.]

I believe that this moment has too much momentum, and that her death will do no such thing.

[dipolar]

(a step closer, then to the side with chiron to peer over the parapets.)

Then I wait for extraction. (fair enough, but he needs a better place to lie low... somewhere no soldiers can find him or don't care to.)

How long have you been here?

(necessary questions.)

[horsepowered]

I believe that in a few more minutes, you could slip away with no mind being paid. The crowds are already too big for anyone to try and direct.

[Chiron gives the question only a moment's consideration.]

About two months.

[dipolar]

I see. (what chiron believes is not what hei believes, having been chased by civilians and soldiers alike for how suspicious he appears, but there's no sense pushing the point when the man's likely facing very similar circumstances.

he doesn't know. his opinion is shelved.

so instead of staring down the only one so far who's provided him with relevant personal information, he turns and stoops and pays the soldiers' pockets a visit. coins and gunpowder are scraped from the seams, fished out and held tightly. no weapons he'd find any use for; he's never packed a musket before and doesn't intend to learn.)

Did Commander Grothia order you to aid civilians, or are you acting on your own?

[horsepowered]

These are actions of my own accord.

[Chiron looks away from pickpocketing the dead. It's a combination of seeing the act as disrespectful, and also simply wishing to give his conversation partner the luxury of some privacy as he goes about the business.]

There were no statements against it, after all.

[dipolar]

(beds of his nails black with substance picked up over the course of the day, he lifts a hand and scratches dry blood off the side of his jaw. it's time to move again, a tiring necessity but he's been discovered easily here. too many people are taking to the roofs.

a glance back to chiron, scraping his boot in a signal that he's through tampering with the dead.)

No, it's a pastime like any other... have you been successful?

[horsepowered]

[A past time? That's interesting, and there's a little huff of consideration at the concept. Chiron can't say he agrees with that assessment, but.]

Yes, thankfully. It's a small thing, in the grand scheme of events, but better than sitting back and doing nothing.

[dipolar]

Sitting back and doing nothing is wise.

(that's the logical thing to say now, isn't it? logical, but unpopular. does he have to be out catering to these civilians, knowing it's already occurred in his timeline? their commander didn't think so, only word of an order being to protect the lives of his new comrades as best he can.

chiron must have another idea -- butterfly effects are dangerous things and the people who survive now, well... if one insect can change the future, then hundreds will surely make an impact. lives that weren't lives before will be now, born out of impossibility because they wanted to trudge through time. the king's head is probably being sold for a dozen livres after being plucked from the square.

isn't that alone too much?

what does he fucking care?)

Many are dead or dying. Standing here is a waste of your limited time.

[horsepowered]

If one's focus is only on self preservation, then yes. You're correct.

[Chiron knows he's more durable than most. It's a part of why he's so willing to head out to do what might be stupid or dangerous for anyone else.

He can also take a hint.]

True enough. If you're so insistent, then I'll depart.

[dipolar]

It's not insistence. It's suggestion.

(he would suggest chiron find a place to lie low as well, but with that heroic kind of goal the man's going to be preoccupied until evac... so hei does what any frosty bitch would do and steps over the bodies in a clear move for the roof's exit.)

I'll be finding a place away from these fools.

(OFF HE GOES)