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let fury have the hour,
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.
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 KINGIt 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 RIOTIt'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 tuileriesThe 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 TROOPSThe 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.
AftermathThe 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
no subject
Come out, little baby bunny. ]
The ocean.
[ Just... bluntly. ]
We're in the middle of nowhere. You can get out, but walking on foot back to Paris will take you days, if not weeks.
1/????
im so sorry/???
das it
[lies... back down]
no subject
No, you're not.
Get up to the front, or get out of the carriage and start walking.
no subject
[He recoils in pain, legs tucking into his body quickly--] Fine, fine! It was a joke! Lay off, will ya?!
[Travis might be grumbling (and is??? weirdly unphased??? by winding up somewhere weird travis u ok) but he's getting out and taking his place in shotgun, his expression thoroughly miffed.]
Figures I go on an accidental beach vacation.
no subject
Achilles laughs a little through a single breath, finding the reaction endearing. The spear will evaporate in a cloud of magic, leaving his hands free to gesture to the front of the carriage. ]
Consider yourself fortunate, then. Things are starting to come to a head in Paris, and you're better off being out of there than stuck.
no subject
[He seems utterly unphased by the magic spear as he hops up front too: if Achilles isn't kicking his ass he's fine, no matter what the hell's going on.
Except he's supposed to be lowkey about that COST stuff... huh...] I mean-- politics. Yeah! Politics.
[he tried]
no subject
Achilles sighs a bit, catching onto the implication of his slip up, but chooses to file it away for a later conversation. He has to gauge this man before revealing himself, though he might have done that with the spear. Travis is just a bit dense.
So he's climbing up to the front to join him, taking the reins, only to pass them over to Travis. You drive as Achilles reclines and closes his eyes. He wants to bask in the afternoon sun for a bit. ]
I'm visiting my mother. [ Travis didn't even ask, Achilles. ]
no subject
speaking of 'dense', Travis stares down at the reins he's been handed like they're a Whole Ass Infant, then stares, incredulously, at .]
As if I actually know how to drive one of these things...
[He's doing it anyway, though-- his hands settle into the two-and-ten position just out of habit as the horses, miraculously, begin to trot in the general direction of Paris. Please redirect them if he's going the wrong way he has No Idea where he is going.]
Your mom, huh. Must've been important if you didn't even check to see whether I was in your back seat.
no subject
Anyway, Achilles doesn't say anything in response to that. Will Travis be able to stand the silence until they reach the ocean?
Or inevitably take breaks so Travis can go pee in the forest sometimes. ]
no subject
cause we're cutting to that now: they've paused for the mo' at a forest clearing that would ordinarily be a beautiful scene if Travis weren't bored out of his goddamn mind by about 2 hours of nature and dead silence. He's stumbling back to the safety of the carriage, pulling his pants up around his waist, and looking irritated as he comes upon his accidental companion--]
Hey, are you gonna talk to me or not? I'll take fending for myself over another hour of silence, buddy.