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

[fessus]

[ You're the one that picked a rooftop.

Noctis pushes off of his knee just to raise his hand, but the gesture doesn't come in time to stop Ryuji from finishing that thought. His mouth opens... then closes. Then opens again. ]

Ugh. [ Finally he's moving, apparently catching his breath enough just to decide he wants to sink down onto that rooftop near him but with enough distance to keep them both comfortable. ]

That was even worse than the first one... Well, at least that means you're the right guy. "ENTERTHEDRAGON"... sounds like a lousy anime.

[ryuji]

[Comfortable for Ryuji doesn't meet it's peak performance until he's making you wish you remember what personal space was actually like, but he figures invading his personal mental space is juuuust about good enough to keep him preoccupied.

But honestly? The company's kind of nice. A lot of shit's gone down in the past 24 hours, and the blond delinquent is, for better or worse, just bored as all hell, waiting for the moment where they're going to get sucked up into a time skip. Not that he... knows... what it'll be like, but when he thinks of time travel, he's got the image of hitting warp drive in a really shittastic B-movie that Ryuji probably watched to death for the comedic gold of how bad it actually was.

So, Noctis. You don't know it yet, but you're doing a lot of good for him. Just by being there.]

Tch. Nah, not a lousy anime. More like a really bad indie Japanese band. Y'know, like, the type who wear school uniforms and nerdy glasses to show off how non-conformist they really are?

[PUNK'S NOT DEAD, IT'S JUST SLEEPING.]

It's my name, by the way. Ryuji means "dragon commander" the way you write it. [A pause, because he has to wonder-] Are you Korean or somethin'? You've kinda got that boy band hair thingy goin' on.

...Sorry if I insulted your next big indie hit, if that's the case. [Ryuji smirks, watching for the reaction.]

1/3

[fessus]

[ Noctis has reappropriated his knees as a convenient shelf yet again so soon after giving them a break, drawing them up close to his chest just to fold his arms over them. He's predictably tired and that realization always hits harder when he has a chance to stop moving. Ryuji seems like safe, good company, at least; would someone dickish invite him to share his roof?

Ardyn might, but Ardyn gives off a completely different vibe altogether. ]

...

You sure can talk a whole lot. [ His first impression, though there's the ghost of a smile on tired features. ]

No, I'm not in a band. I'm not really sure what else you called me so I'm gonna' go ahead and say "no" to that too. But you're really thinking hard about this image thing.

2/3

[fessus]

[ ... ]

3/3

[fessus]

School uniform and glasses... Sounds like the lead in Ultimate Cerulean Phantasm 3: Terminus System... That was so pretentious...

[ Absolutely muttering half to himself. ]

[1/2]

[ryuji]

[What... a.... NERD.]

[2/2]

[ryuji]

[He leans over, gives a bit of a shove, and laughs at him. Sure, he looks tired, run down, beat, and ready to give up at any given moment, but that doesn't stop Ryuji from putting a little extra. If he's smiling, that means he's winning, right?]

Nah, dude. It's more like Gambla Goemon, where the protag has to face off against these challenges and roll dice to see if he beats odds or evens scores. Pretty sad little dude, if you ask me. All that work to get smashed in by a demon. The RNG can be a bitch, though.

[If you don't use... cheat codes... not that an honest, down to earth, hard working person like Ryuji would ever do that.]

Anyway, you should always root for the underdog. They're the ones to watch out for.

[fessus]

[ Noctis leans away from the shove for added effect, even taking a harmless swipe at Ryuji's arm for good measure. Quit it... ]

What are you even talking about? I'm gonna' root for me. So if I'm the underdog, cool, I'll root for the underdog. You're just saying whatever pops into your head, weirdo.

[ryuji]

[Called out like that was just downright savage. He tilts his head, feigning anger towards the other. Who the hell meets someone and immediately goes for the throat with no concern of how clean the slice would be? Ryuji eyeballs the bottle of wine next to him and seriously considers taking another swig of it. But. Eh. This stuff could put hair on knuckles- he didn't understand why the old patrons of the ruined bar below loved it so much.

Then again, he didn't really understand a lot of things to begin with, and, yeah, maybe sometimes he spoke just to hear words come out of his mouth. It's better than silence, after all.]

Eh? Me, weird? Y'know. You're on my roof, remember? I don't gotta share it with you. I even made the place look nice for your ass.

[No, don't leave him alone. It's so much worse.]

Aaaanyway. [Long, drawn out change of subject.] Take it you're not a soldier type, yeah? Tons of 'em around here. Makes me feel kinda dumb, bein' pretty average and all. You got some neat magic, though.

[fessus]

Thanks. It's pretty sweet.

[ Yeah, he has no illusions about that one way or the other. Thankful for his abilities, less thankful for all the baggage that comes with them. In every way... most of which aren't good for him to even think about right now. ]

Nah, I'm no soldier. Maa... I can't say I don't know anything about it, though. I can fight at least. [ And here is where he casts a glance back over at Ryuji, going from pronounced features to the bottle of wine at his side, spending significantly more time on the former. Oh he's seen the latter, plenty of times, and even just today too. Damn, what he wouldn't give for a tall glass of water... ]

You saying you can't?

[ryuji]

Well... ya wound up in COST for some reason, right?

[As someone who's been training to be a thief over the last year, you'd think he'd be better at noticing when someone is noticing him, but, nah. He's oblivious to Noctis' quick study, instead, reclining back so that the backs of his elbows prop his chest up and he has a better viewpoint of the sky- finally opting to give up his attempts to be an adult and drink like one too. Maybe both just... aren't for him at the moment.]

Magic? It's not really common here. But yeah. I get all my power from my persona. [He's a monkey floating on a cloud. Exciting, right?] But that weird ass parkour stuff you got goin' on? No way in hell, dude.

[fessus]

[ Noctis's gaze lingers for a second or two longer, feeling like he's getting a brief glimpse at a realer exhaustion that peeks through when Ryuji turns his attention upward. Less showboating, for a moment, fewer jokes at one another's expense. Well, at least it makes him feel less alone in this feeling. ]

It's cool parkour stuff... [ Under his breath, first, leaning more heavily on his knees. ]

What's a persona? Is that magic too?

[ryuji]

Just sayin', you should probably be on one of those gladiator tv shows that go through obstacle courses. You'd rake in the cash.

[......Ryuji.....]

Kinda. It's just a mask I wear that lets me do cool shit.

[He shoots a glance over to Noctis. Despite the fact that he's met a few people in the organization already, they all seem to be... very different than the guy sitting next to him. He talks a lot with low tones, carries himself with an almost awkwardness that doesn't fit the profile of a battle hardened soldier.

And... he likes that about him. Makes him seem more real in all this chaotic conflict. Ryuji gives an encouraging, dumbly tired smile in his direction.]

So where'd you get your powers from?

[fessus]

[ One dumbly tired smile? Meet an incredulous snort of a laugh, equally worn and cut much shorter. It's been a long day and Ryuji's word choice just contrasts so starkly with the rest of it that it seems ludicrous, shaking his head. ]

Guess that's an answer... I'm not really worried about cash, but I think I saw some shows like that. I'd be really good. [ Is this a worrying ego or a statement of fact? It's hard to tell. Ask Gladio and he'll say it's the first one, though. ]

Mine run in the family. [ He casts another glance over with a raised chin, expression largely unreadable as he skirts near a far more somber subject but one he's at least wholly accustomed to. ] Putting a mask on sounds simpler. Put up or shut up; I wanna' see it.

[ryuji]

[Ryuji lets out an unhealthy laugh at that, trying to imagine the other do the wall climb challenge with relative (cheating) ease. Not worried about cash, eh? Either he's a hobo who's completely chill with living in the sticks or the dude's loaded. Both options could aptly fit, but he doesn't press it. Ryuji comes from a poor enough background to not harp on money constantly as it... well, it kind of gives himself away too easily.]

Put up or shut up... geez, what kinda guy are you?

[He teases, but he grips his mask anyway, and places it firmly on his face. There's a pulse of energy that flows through his body, feeling like he's connected to his persona. Ryuji doesn't bother getting up- he's way too damn tired- rather, instead holding his hand out toward Noctis with his forefinger and thumb positioned as a gun.

The mask glows with a blue fire. He's not about to send lightning crackling down from the sky (the last time he did that, a certain thirsty Heroic Spirit tracked him down and demanded to know where that magic had come from), so instead, he focuses his attention on the other. He pulls the trigger of his hand.]

Persona!

[Cue a monkey siting on a cloud hovering over Ryuji's lazy body that Noctis probably can't see. The visage looks a little annoyed that the blond is just... you know, laying down on the job, but soon enough the orders are given out and it starts to move.]

Charge

[It imbues its strength straight into Noctis, his little guinea pig for this pet project. The flames dissipate and he smiles.

Was that it?

Seriously, lame.]

Punch the roof.

i'm so sorry Ryuji

[fessus]

[ Luckily he doesn't feel particularly burdened to actually answer Ryuji's question when asked, far more interested in the show he's about to get. But...

Well, it seems like it's more about what he isn't seeing than what he is, squinting at that mask and even feeling himself gripped by an uneasy tension when Ryuji mimics pointing a weapon at him. That feeling is short-lived when it seems like absolutely nothing happens in the wake of it, quite literally left just staring at this teen flopped bonelessly on the roof. What...

Then comes the sudden surge of energy, starting in his chest and branching outward, a spike in adrenaline that's not unlike how he feels upon activating the Armiger. What the hell is this? Widened blue eyes examine his own hands as he turns them, experimentally flexing fingers-- ]

Hah? [ ... ]

No, are you stupid? [ SAD ] What'd you just do? I'm not going to punch the roof!

are you stupid

[ryuji]

What've'ya got to lose?

[Smirks at him.

Everything, to be honest.]

You're really gonna make my magic go to waste like that? [He thinks for a moment (dangerous), and decides to stand up. He's about three seconds away from taking Noctis' hand and make him smack himself with it.

Stop hitting yourself. Stop hitting yourself.

Well, that's no way to influence others and make friends, so he'll go down the tanky route.]

Okay. Punch me then.

[Ryuji, this is a bad idea.]

we're both stupid

[fessus]

[ "What have you got to lose" shouldn't be in any way a compelling argument but at this moment, in this absolutely absurd situation, it kind of is. What does he have to lose? His life? If he's to believe the information he's gotten that isn't a major concern; as long as the BCE is protected then so is he, right?

It wouldn't be the first time he was close to death, either, brutally intimate with most of the physical abuses the human body can experience at the hands (or claws) of other humans, daemons, and animals that share his world. But getting hurt isn't the same as hurting somebody else. Even if this guy is literally asking for it. ]

Now I know you're crazy... I can feel that you made me stronger, so either you think I'm a wimp or you have a serious death wish.

Unless that power of yours is sticking around and gives you a magical shield, you're gonna' get your head caved in.

yet here we are at an impasse of stupidity

[ryuji]

Yeah, I'm pretty crazy. You're gonna find that out sooner or later if we're gonna be friends.

[This is still a bad idea. He has no idea that he's fucked up gods before, the only thing he has to go by is his lethargic stature, the clearly written "good friend material" scratched out on his ragged French clothes, and here Ryuji is, still defiant and standing up to it.

Because, really, how much can you trust a person if they're not willing to flat out punch you when you're being dumb? Ryuji shouldn't regard his friendships as much, but, whatever. He makes his stand.]

I got a thick skull. And you don't look like a wimp.

[200 hp later and a Ryuji with broken bones and barely alive?]

[fessus]

I just wanna' make sure there's something left to be friends with... [ Well, at least he's accepting the proposition. Honestly? This is the most open and direct one he's ever received and that'd be something he'd giving a lot more of its due attention were Ryuji not framing it with a request for injury. ]

I get wanting to see what another guy's made of but this is totally different from what I asked you for, oi-- [ And even though he says it he's reluctantly planting his feet against the rooftop, straightening up to full height with a brush at his clothing. ]

Come on... This is your last chance to back out. I gave you so many warnings...

[ryuji]

[There are stop signs in the road that tell you when to brake at an intersection, and then there are much larger cosmic warnings out there in the universe- like how the toll arm of a railroad crossing swings down to stop anyone from crossing over as a train threatens to plow through, careening at deadly speeds. And Ryuji can't really tell the difference, happily walking across the tracks without noticing the buzz against the metal line.

But he's ready- fuck him up. He's had his fair share of mudoons thrown his way and lived to tell the tale.]

C'mon, it's not like you're gonna wipe me out of existence with just a punch.

[Heh.







Say goodbye to everything you've known and loved, Ryuji.]

[fessus]

[ This guy... isn't joking around. After all the useless things he's said, this is where he decides to spit something out other than hot air? Noctis sizes him up once again, gripped by how exceptionally breakable he appears to be and how much more power he feels dormant behind his own fist.

He takes a deep breath, steps forward, draws back his arm--

and deflates. ]

Seriously? You're not gonna' stop me. Did you think that maybe I don't wanna' punch you or wreck the roof? There's gotta' be a better option here.

[ryuji]

[Unflinching, he's about to take the blow straight into him, he closes his eyes and waits for it. Then, when it doesn't come and he hears Noctis' voice once more, he lets out the oxygen he had kept in his chest like an airbag, and just stares at him. Huh?]

You're worried 'bout me? Dude, we just met, don't tell me you're already attached. Sheesh.

[Ryuji just laughs nonchalantly, and then tries to think about something else on the roof that would be worthy, and then remembers that he has a ghost friend. Spirit friend. Whatever.

So instead of replying verbally, he activates his BCE and shoots a text.

@ACHILLIES Yo, I need your help with somethin' here. ASAP.]

Give it to the count of five. [He was being awfully generous with the amount of time it would probably take, how mean of Ryuji to assume, of course.] Then punch. I wanna test something out anyway.

[fessus]

You're-- [ The exasperation in his tone now is even more obvious as his shoulders hitch up in a somewhat helpless shrug, tense with the growing need to hit something. Can he give any more warnings? Maybe he's being way too kind right now; maybe Ryuji will be fine. Maybe. ]

This is your funeral. I hope you have a good plan. [ And to his credit he does cast a glance down at the street below, ensuring that what's about to happen won't have a broad audience, before he clenches his fingers into a tight fist and starts to count.

One... two... three... four... five, and his arm snaps forward in aseemingly spring-loaded strike, a blur of movement with a now massive force built up behind it. ]

1/2

[chariotry]

[ He receives the text when he's actually already in the area, mediating the riots (by punching anyone's teeth in if they get out of hand). He hadn't thought much of it at first, but considering the state of Paris lately, he decides against passing it off as nothing serious. So by his coordinates now available on the BCE, he takes a jump and races over the rooftops to where his location is. To any of the citizens of Paris looking up, they will pay witness to a green streak of light zigzagging over buildings and question whether or not they were seeing things.

When he finds Ryuji and Noctis, it's just milliseconds away from Ryuji receiving a punch strong enough to clear most of his teeth from his mouth.

To prepare himself to attack would take the few precious milliseconds separating Noctis' fist and Ryuji's fragile face, so he has no other choice. He crashes down into the roof with enough force to generate a small shockwave and send any man not firmly rooted to the ground off-kilter.

Maybe it's enough to make Ryuji fall on his ass.

Either way, Achilles is getting a punch aimed squarely for his face, which he doesn't brace himself for of course, since he's invulnerable. ]