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

[ryuji]

[There are... a lot of churches in the area that have opened its doors and its kindness to refugees who were out of home and hearth due to the chaotic destruction of buildings all over Paris. But even those were proving not to be houses of safety: the old basilica of Saint-Germain-des-Prés had been taken during the revolution, and forced to store gunpowder, recently made into a show of fantastic fireworks when something had happened in the middle of the night to detonate them and take out the entire western wing, along with the Frenchmen inside.

When the riots had hit the bar he was residing in, he had been upstairs, terrified enough to climb up from the window and jump onto the roof to avoid notice.

They ransacked everything. Food, wine, stores. The owner was nowhere to be found when the dust settled, and maybe it was for the best. Ryuji would have to leave this place behind eventually anyway, and a missing person was easier than figuring out how to say thanks for the shitty accommodations and that he'd "try" to not leave a horrible yelp review of the place.

So he found his next home at a smaller abbey, one that had found its place in the more humble areas of town, far less a target than the larger ones sprinkled about the city. He's sitting down at a pew, staring at the stations of the cross, his back to Achilles when he enters.

It's nigh impossible to not notice that blond hair. It sticks out like a sore thumb.]

[chariotry]

[ It takes Achilles forever to actually find where he is. He'd been outside mostly, watching the streets by rooftop and waiting for the opportunity to spot that shock of bright, blond hair (though who are we kidding, his roots are definitely showing by now).

He doesn't actually look inside the churches until the sun is low in the sky, shedding dull light over the exhausted city and forcing most of the rioters to disperse from their activities. The streets become sparser and sparser, leaving the spirit hardly any other options besides to follow where the crowds congregate.

So yeah, he pops inside a church, scanning the room in one brief glance. He spots Ryuji by chance. And here he hadn't even been getting his hopes up, because it had been a likelier scenario that he'd find him dead on the street or confined to a jail cell.

Ryuji is going to get a hug. But it won't be tight, or sudden. It's more subtle, two arms looping around him and dragging him back against his chest. This time, he isn't covered in solid plates of armour. ]

[1/2]

[ryuji]

[Achilles, this was a place of God?]

[2/2]

[ryuji]

[But... oh. He's slowly intertwined into Achilles' embrace like that, and it has him scared that the holy ghost has finally found him, and he thrashes about for a second in utter pandemonium, because the last thing he was expecting in the world was getting an embrace like that initiated against him. In a church.

But he's forward in all that ways that it feels familiar to him, and it takes him all of two or three seconds of hazy uncertainty, before he looks down to the hands that are wrapped around his midpoint like that. He knows those hands. Those hands belong to Achilles.

God.

It's been a really, really shitty week, and as his breath hitches, he rests his head up against his chest for a moment, just, comfortable enough to actually let himself not care what this looks like. The priests are already looking on with incredulity in their scornful gazes, but Ryuji doesn't give a fuck what they think. No, he wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere, or confined to imprisonment, but he had a few close run-ins that he's definitely not about to tell Achilles of. Heaving a sight out of his chest, he tilts his head upward to see the familiar spike of green hair offshooting from his peripheral. Give him a moment to collect himself, allow the hug to calm him from the emotional wreck he's been the past few days, and then, carefully, he pushes against those hands around him.]

What the hell!? Now, of all times?

[chariotry]

[ Okay, Ryuji.

If there's anything about Achilles you should know, it's that he wears his emotions very nakedly. He isn't ashamed of it either. ]

I thought I'd lost you. [ It sounds almost possessive, like Ryuji was something of his to lose. Though they weren't close, he did consider him a friend and someone he wants to protect, which is all the reason he needs to speak of him in such a way.

Surprisingly, he doesn't try to thwart his protesting movements, obligingly withdrawing his arms. ] Why didn't you reply to me on the BCE?

[ryuji]

[They're the same in that regard- wearing everything out in the open, for the most part, but the slight difference between the two is that Ryuji always feels a little bit of conditioned shame at doing so. Like now, when he's being so earnest and sweet, and Ryuji's just standing there, halfway between thinking he doesn't deserve this sort of treatment and halfway breaking down and just....





Hugging the shit out of him. They'd only just had a mission together, and a few errant moments and a dumb teenager who let his feelings get hurt by an equally dumb demigod, but, even having Achilles around for a little bit after all of the world started to crumble around him would've been comforting in a way he's not comfortable to admit.

And so when he's pushed in a direction he's not ready to admit to, he doesn't tell Achilles about how deeply fucked up the king's death made him feel, or how empty it was to watch the riots unfold in the streets of Paris, or how, coming back to the bar after all this was over, just to find it in shambles and left up in the air whether or not its owner was still alive.

It's a lot to process for a kid. But he doesn't want be a kid, not in front of Achilles.

So, shame, is what's going on through his mind right now. He wants those hands around his waist again, so badly... just to know that he's still alive, to feel like his existence has an impact. Even if only for a few, fleeting seconds. He turns to Achilles, scratches the back of his head, because this is fucking embarrassing to feel that way, and---]

Lost me? Yeah, right. What'd I tell ya? Look for the brightest shining thing around and you'll see me. [A thumbs up.]

[chariotry]

[ Yeah, Achilles doesn't know what Ryuji had gone through, given that he hadn't been gifted with the skill of omniscience. But from what he can tell, between the ransacked bar and the weary look on the boy's face, shoulders sagged in a fashion that looks more like defeat than it does a deliberate slouch. He can see and read that sullen side of him like it were a mirror image of something he went through, himself. ]

Your shine has gotten dull since the last I saw you, lagoudáki.

You sure you're still the brightest thing around right now? [ Teasing, though his smile is more subdued than usual, nothing like the wolfish grin he normally wears.

And yeah, he'll reach out to ruffle his hair a bit. ]

[ryuji]

[You... you weren't there, Achilles. Not that Ryuji was expecting you to be, but, there's a part of him that just wishes, for some stupid reason, that he was. Achilles is the only thing that seems somewhat constant lately, and maybe it's a wake up call to him to be more independent, but nonetheless, it just. It sucked, alright? When the hero starts to ruffle his hair and dote on him, some of that pressure seems to slip away, and for a second, maybe the other will pick up on Ryuji just a moment of that need from him. To be here.]

S-shut up, dude.

[And he can't take it anymore- he gives the other a hug, wrapping his arms around and squeezing a little too tightly.





Which lasts all of three seconds, because he pounds his fist against his chest.]

Fuck you, I'm still the brightest goddamn thing here.

[The priests don't like this.

They really don't like this.

One walks up: "Monsieurs, I'm going to have to ask you to leave if you keep cursing the name of our Lord."]

Jay you look so american with your overuse of monsieur

[chariotry]

[ Well, Achilles will just hold him in return, wrapping strong arms around his slighter frame. One hand cups over the back of his head, threading fingers through the dark roots poking out beneath the bright blond. ]

Leave us be. We'll be taking our leave, soon.

[ The priest is so lucky that Achilles is in a good mood, otherwise he might have gotten petulant and argued. Or worse.

He can appreciate a person's devotion to their God, though. And Ryuji is being cute.

These poor priests have no idea that the revolutionists are about to try to tear down the church and the Christian/Catholic religion.

Oh well. ]

wee wee mon cherie

[ryuji]

[Ryuji realizes that he's already overstayed his welcome here as it is, in more ways than one, but. Fuck.

Authority.

He turns to the priest, giving him the most impolite stare he could muster. And it's with all the anger, the anguish, the feeling of kicking himself over and over for what he's done in his part to aid the revolution, and his innocence cracking a little bit in the process, that he just grits his teeth at the priest.]

Fuck you. No, seriously. Have a nice fuckin' day.

[And with that, Ryuji starts, heading toward the end of the pew, but his hand is pulling against Achilles, like we should get out of here, as the man of the cloth just looks absolutely aghast at what's happening. Ryuji, keeping pleasant to God at least, bows his head at the cross as he leaves the pew, and heads out toward the entrance.]

Stuffy old assholes.

Oui oui*******

[chariotry]

[ Oh, he's all pissed off. How sweet.

Achilles lets him go through his own process, withdrawing his arms to give him room to posture all he pleases. He simply crosses his arms himself, quirking a brow as he shares a glance with the priest, like "hey, I'm not getting into this". Yeah, he's amused. ]

So you proved you're certainly the loudest thing here. [ A bit of a laugh, but he follows obediently, letting Ryuji tug him by the hand. ]

Temples are a quiet place of worship. In your day and age, I guess that's taken for granted.

What God do you believe in?

you know all about wee wee's don't play games with me

[ryuji]

[As they get to the exit, completely out of earshot of the priesthood and not in the house of The Lord, Ryuji stops at the door, turns to Achilles, and deadpans.]

The god of rock and roll.

[It's stated so matter-of-factly, that Achilles might actually believe there's such a spirit out there.

You know. The one that can save your mortal soul.

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?]

Anyway. Now that I've been excommunicated...

[chariotry]

[ The god of... what now? He's heard of rock and roll, but he still looks a bit puzzled, like he's trying to gauge whether he's serious or not. ]

Why don't you make your location and vitals public on the BCE? [ He crosses his arms, letting his eyes rake down the length of his body. Listen, it's not perverted. He's trying to look for any signs of injury. ] Got anyone to hide from?

[ryuji]

[The lack of seriousness in his voice is palpable. Part of Ryuji wishes he could play this pantheon out a little longer, but he doesn't know shit about mythology outside of what he played in video games or the few chapters of the Illiad he had read.]

Uh... I dunno. I guess I just like the privacy or somethin'. I don't wanna have creeps knowing where I am 24/7. [Leftover tendencies from being a thief. Not being easy to find is an asset, right?]

But I guess I could. If you think so.

[chariotry]

Creeps, huh? [ a little smirk, like he’s laughing silently. ]

How will I be able to find you if you don’t tell me where you are? Unless you became my master, I wouldn’t be able to come to your rescue.

[ryuji]

[He looks left and right, just to make sure no one's in the vicinity before tugging down the collar of his ugh tragically hipster french collection shirt and activates his BCE.

Ryuji turns on his vitals and location, confirms/saves, and lets his shirt spring back to its desired location covering the implant.]

There, you can, uh. Find me whenever, or somethin'.

1/2

[chariotry]

[ What... He just master-baited him and he completely overlooked it.

He watches him, almost thoughtfully. Ryuji is either dense or trying to dodge the subject entirely.

Achilles isn't sure. But then again, that'd be making quite the commitment. ]

[chariotry]

[ He lets out a bit of a snort of amusement once he's finished making the adjustments. ]

Let's see if it works. [ And he doesn't bother checking around, tugging down on his own collar and pressing a finger to the piercing nestled at his collarbone. He's going to check Ryuji's vitals, okay. ]

[ryuji]

[He's dense, it has nothing to do with you Achilles.

But, look, 200hp/50sp. You've achieved new heights of stalker capabilities. That aside, he shrugs. If Achilles were especially astute, he'd see Ryuji look at his collarbone, even if for .000000000005 of a second. (maybe a bit longer, maybe it's .000000000010 of a second, but either way).

He looks behind himself for one last time, and sighs.]

I'd take you to church, but I don't think that's gonna help.

[And then, back at Achilles.]

You've got sin written all over ya.

[chariotry]

[ He's preoccupied, so he won't notice that gawking (you wish you were this swole).

50sp? Is that...?

Is that his mana? Is that it?

He's just going to make this stupid face. Ryuji's joke falls on deaf ears. ]

[ryuji]

[It's understandable, Achilles predates the concept of the earth revolving around the sun and not around him.]

Huh?

[Are you crushed, Achilles? He's a pretty weak mage.]

You look like you just whiffed a seriously bad fart.

[chariotry]

... I thought you were a powerful mage.

Is this 50 S P your level of mana?

[ryuji]

[Whoa. Ryuji's never felt any shame toward his capabilities in battle, but that's probably because he always fit a niche role in a team of 4. Talk about mana envy.]

Uh... it's how much I got to work with when I'm usin' magic, so I guess that's about right.

[He feels so called out right now.]

[chariotry]

[ just. Staring. ]

And here I was thinking of asking you to be my Master.

.... I feel like I’ve been tricked.

[ryuji]

[It's making him a little uncomfortable, so he stands off to the side momentarily. He wasn't hiding the fact that he has low SP stores; up until this point it didn't matter in the slightest. And when Achilles talks about him becoming his Master, it makes this situation all the more real and consequential.

And it's weird, because he doesn't know what all becoming a Master really means, but he thought, for sure, judging from their already rocky encounters that he would be one of the last people on earth that Achilles would want something out of. It's part low self esteem and part hesitation. Being called out on his inability to control magic properly feeds a feast onto the former issue, and he turtles back up.

Besides, they already had a conversation about what makes their differences all the more apparent. Achilles is ephemeral, a concept that's given life. He didn't want a relationship, had already given Ryuji a new host of inner doubts, and he just stands there, confused and somewhat downtrodden over this sudden question. The sudden appearance. The overbearing nature of him appearing just when he thought he was doing okay by himself.]

Yep. That was what I was aimin' for all along here. Trickin' you- cat's outta the bag.