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

[rappels]

The amusement isn't something she misses, though it is a little surprising. She expects anger since, well, it's kind of warranted. She'd comment on it in another situation, but for now, she's a little preoccupied with their surroundings. She can clearly hold her own, but with so many people, she doesn't exactly have the kind of fair fighting ground she'd like.

"Then why are you fighting," she spits out, shaking her head in disbelief, but gets interrupted from saying more as another member of the crowd seems inclined to get in a tussle. In fact, more than one, since maybe they just also really enjoy fighting. Aloy takes a few quick steps back, and despite being the one to knock him to the ground, she offers a thickly calloused hand to help him up.

"Come on, you're on my side, right?" she asks, though it's more a demand in tone than a question. "So stop punching me and hit the right ones instead!"

[macginger]

Sweeney is grinning when he takes her hand and is pulled back to his feet. If she wants to be at his side, that's fine by him. He wasn't looking to pick fights, especially with designated teammates. Trouble seemed to just find him, especially when he walked up to trouble and smacked it on the back of the head and insulted its mother.

"I'm fighting for the ever loving fuck of it." A woman comes after him screaming with a frying pan, which is new but not particularly novel. Sweeney has no reservations in decking her. Something something equal opportunity brawler. "And it gives these bastards something to do. At least I won't kill them after."

[rappels]

Aloy helps him up, and in that gesture, it's clear that knocking him down wasn't a fluke. She's strong for her size, and her rough hands speak to a strength that's practical in nature. She's someone that lives by using her hands for work, which is probably also why she's not really that bothered by the fact that she just got punched. It'll bruise later for sure, make no mistake, but she's had worse, and she's also much more inclined to avoid getting more injuries at the moment.

"Are you serious?" she asks, but there's more exasperation than incredulity in her tone. No, that makes sense actually, because who else would actually be grinning to be here? She's reminded of Nil, though at least so far, this guy is distinctly less... Creepy, honestly.

At least until he follows up with the "at least" comment. No, it's just more of the same. All she'll hope for is that it doesn't get as weird as that occasion. Aloy doesn't blink twice when he decks the woman, and instead moves forward to take the pan from her. It's not as threatening as the knives she has, which all things considered, she thinks is probably better.

"So use that love to move that way," she says, and motions with the pan towards what seems like the closest edge of the thick crowd. She can't be sure, since people keep milling in and out, and as someone comes too close with too much of a dangerous expression in their eyes, Aloy swings the pan up towards their jaw. Definitely better than her fists, she decides.

[macginger]

"Shame. I didn't want to go that way."

But he went anyway, because even if he didn't go out of his way to be a team player, he had been conditioned to start playing on a team. That was the trouble of being part of a sad lot of ancient nobodies. This new group, these time travelers, was just more of the same. It was something to do.

He wouldn't be starring in any action films, but Sweeney could fight. It was all brutal elbows and knuckles and knees and the kind of dirty fighting that gets things done. He wasn't trying to kill anyone and most likely didn't, though it was hard to ever tell in a mess like this. He was making the crowd worse by his presence, even as he was trying to make a conscious effort to help. Sweeney was not helping, save for leading the two of them towards an alley way.

When they were clear, he spat out some blood and wiped a hand across his face and beard.

"Nice work back there. I'd have let you do all the heavy lifting if they'd given me half a chance."