agogemod: (Default)
⌞THE AGOGE⌝ MODS ([personal profile] agogemod) wrote in [community profile] agogelogs2017-10-07 12:21 am

THERE WERE MASTERS AND SERVANTS,

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Prepare for the historic Battle of Valmy.
WHEN? Mid September 1792, France.
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;
between sainte-menehould and valmy,
1792: revolutionary france.




DEPARTING JERUSALEM

The clean up of the battle is slog. A full day of piling together corpses. Noting down famous men and women. In the heat, the bodies bloat and become fetid, and the smell builds until it cannot be ignored. Insects swarm, and vultures blot out the sun, swooping down and taking back what's been left for nature. Stragglers and the poor pick through the field for scattered weapons and valuables to collect. The bodies of important men and women are taken for burial; the rest are left for scavengers, animal or human.

It's in this gruesome scene that the order comes:
PACK UP, GET READY TO MOVE OUT. THE TARGETS HAVE BEEN NEAUTRALIZED. WE MAKE OUR DEPARTURE LOCAL TIME, DAWN.

DEPLOYMENT: VALMY, FRANCE. IT'S GOING TO BE A WET ONE. WE ARE EXPECTING MORE TRANSFERS ON ARRIVAL.
The present COST soldiers that have been in strict cover begin finishing their work, if they've decided to help the army move out, tend to the wounded, or clean up after the dead. There is no sign of the Commander yet, but maybe you recognise some of your fellow operatives. They seem be taking advantage of a particular event that maybe you stopped to see, maybe you didn't.

Saladin beheads Reynald de Chattilion and his words fill the camp as much as the news of their next move.

A king does not kill a king, Saladin says to King Guy, and the orders run like wildfire through the camp: next they take Jerusalem, and it's in this march, that when the rest of the army moves on that COST slips away. A order to fall back in steady increments; when the time comes, Saladin's army is out of sight, marching toward Jerusalem.

In the midst of all of this, COST operatives begin to disappear, here one moment and gone in another. Such a strange sight, more than one native soldier muses, must be the fault of heat exhaustion.

The Time-Step

The transfer begins, and it starts like a vibrating heat on the collar bone, not painful, not to start with. Just a hum of sensation. But the vibration spreads. Veteran COST soldiers often refer to this phenomena as 'the buzz'. The sensation builds, feeling not unlike standing near a great engine, or the wind rattling the branches of a great tree. There is long a moment of motion sickness, and one cannot always be sure if it is you that is shaking from the inside out, or the world that is shaking you from the outside in. It may just be better to close your eyes against the growing nausea as the world blurs out of focus. A star shines in the distance. You may hear the faint rustling of leaves. Some swear they hear voices in this moment, indistinct words echoing off nothingness. Some swear they feel a touch of the divine. One thing is for sure: One moment you are here, and the next, you are not.

The soldier next to you might not have been so clever, when it stops and you find yourself standing in the green fields of France, September 1792. She or he throws up as the vibration fades. Everyone seems to stumble sideways for a second. The world turns, and then rights itself. The heat is gone, replaced with cold and wet.



ARRIVAL FOR TRANSFERS FROM JERUSALEM

It's raining.

You're inside of a tent, (another one), and it already seems to be bustling with movements, they call to you in French, which you understand if you did not already: hurry now, they say, you need out of that cuircass before they're spotted. The rest of the army will be following, and the Prussian army to meet it. There isn't much time to loiter around getting sick in this weather. You have a kit to pick up, and perhaps training to do.

ARRIVAL FOR NEW RECRUITS

The first thing you'll notice is the sound of rain. You awake in a tent that seems to be sheltering against the ruins of a farm house, and everything feels damp. It's a wet September morning in 1792, and when the woman across from you in the tent speaks, you understand it to be French. If you didn't understand French already, you sure do now.

If you ask, she'll explain: you are fighting for France, as the Prussian army intends to invade and sack Paris. You may be a citizen, you may be a soldier; you have risen up in defense of France all the same.

She asks you what role you wish to play in the coming battle, and provides you with clothes and supplies to suit. She won't let you leave until you can pass for a native of France, setting up camp in the rain pouring down between Sainte-Menehould and Valmy.

MISSION OBJECTIVE

The forces of COST have gotten word that Regency operatives have gone to Revolutionary France, intending to turn the tides in one of the most historically important battles in European history. The Battle of Valmy, which decided the entirety of the French Revolution and all that follows it, must be won by the French army, as it was in history.

Unlike the incident in Jerusalem-- you may remember it, you may not-- COST has managed to get here before the day of the battle. Make no mistake; it's coming soon. But this time, you and your fellow travelers have time to prepare.

The French Army has managed to get ahead as well; they've maneuvered around the Prussians, cutting off their supply lines. You and your fellow soldiers are now chasing the invaders as they head for Paris. This is time to prepare and ready your forces. The fight is coming soon.



STAY DRY, STAY SECURE
A few things are strongly remembered about the Battle of Valmy; one of them is the rain. It's really pouring out here, and you're in the thick of it. Rain is a dangerous thing for an army such as this; during this era of warfare, gunpowder was an essential commodity, and wet gunpowder is useless gunpowder. Secure the supplies, rescue supply carriages from muddy sinkholes, steer the horses, check supplies, and try to keep the essential materials for victory dry.
TRAIN UP
General Kellerman and Dumouriez are training peasants in basic military tactics. While veterans make up the core of this army, there are a substantial amount of peasants, and most here have never seen battle in their lives, or ever held a gun. Many are equipped with only rudimentary farming equipment. Help train or be trained so you're ready when the Prussian army arrives.
MEDICAL
Plenty of people need medical attention, not from battle wounds so much as malnutrition and overwork. These are mostly peasant laborers, and they're not entirely fit for battle. Help people get as rested and ready as possible.
ESPIONAGE
We have reason to believe some of the 'peasants' are actually Regency spies. Root them out by seeing keeping an ear to the ground for suspicious activity. They don't know all the words to La Marseillaise? Off with their head! Be careful not to attack time travellers on your side, though!
MORALE
Keep spirits high! Sing, dance, and generally try to keep people from succumbing to fear. Despite the rain and the mud, despite the seemingly impossible odds, the average soldier is full of excitement for battle, ready to fight to the death to defend their freedom.
SUPPLY AND SEEK
Since the French army is behind the invading force, they've cut off the enemy's supply lines. This means that, should the Prussians become encamped here for any amount of time, they won't be able to send for food and munitions from their home country. It's your job to make sure it stays that way. You may see someone riding on a swift horse in a Prussian uniform, attempting to sneak through French lines and try to get word back to mother Prussia. Chase them down, and make sure they can't get their reports back home so a second force isn't sent-- or worse.
BE A COMMUNITY ORGANIZER
This battle is one that's widely known for its popular support-- for the most part, France unites against this invading force with alarming cohesion. Someone gifted with a clever mind, or perhaps a clever tongue, may be able to use that. The French army passes farms and peasant villages along the way-- make rousing speeches, and try to recruit more to the cause, secure donations of food and weaponry, anything you can get.




hakanai: ([Covered] Thoughtful moment)

[personal profile] hakanai 2017-10-09 09:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, well, that's interesting. Yoshitsugu is quiet for a moment while he takes in Drogo a bit more keenly. The previous comparison to Tadakatsu was a good one in some ways; tall, muscular, strong, the man has the obvious bearing of a warrior and a confident one at that. He is very aware of his strength.

But in other ways? Not so much. Tadakatsu is not a leader. He plainly states as such and is devoted to his Lord, whereas it's hard to imagine the imposing figure stood before Yoshitsugu taking orders.

"...thank you." Yoshitsugu dips his head briefly. "I will bear that in mind."

It probably won't make him strong, but Yoshitsugu is being very careful about discounting anything since joining COST. There are always things you can call ridiculous immediately but if time travel is possible, if alteration of the flow of things is possible, what else might be? This was going to be an interesting experience, albeit a tough and no doubt draining one.

(A standard situation for a samurai in turbulent times, perhaps).

"You've won countless battles. Did any of them involve this much mud?"

An assumption of Yoshitsugu's own, but it's a pretty safe one, and the question relevant. He wants to know what his allies are capable of, what they know.
horsepowered: (x6. Profile view)

[personal profile] horsepowered 2017-10-09 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Chiron's response was simple and direct, but unaware that subtle and Draco were not a good match.

"I suspect you'd be sorely disappointed, based on your exacting standards and poor manners. Good luck with what you're trying to accomplish."
horsepowered: (x3. Gestures at self)

[personal profile] horsepowered 2017-10-09 10:02 pm (UTC)(link)
"...A name would be more helpful."

Chiron genuinely had no idea who Midnighter was referring to, and the confusion was very clear on his face. But he did have a point about no one minding an older approach if it did help save on precious supplies.

"These people might not, but this organization may take issue. That is the sole reason for hesitation, believe me."

Being hidden while fighting was something Chiron understood. Same for being from the wrong timeline. But the extent of needing to stay hidden was new, and quite frankly, an impediment if they wanted to get skilled work out of him.
horsepowered: (x1. Default)

[personal profile] horsepowered 2017-10-09 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
"The first," is the response, quite serious even if the statement is meant in good humor. There's a smile playing at Chiron's lips though, showing that he's taken it all in good faith.

"By all means then. I will admit, I don't have the best range of vision with their heads in the way."
rappels: (pic#11765246)

3

[personal profile] rappels 2017-10-09 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Hearing the gunfire had drawn Aloy over to the firing range, because she recognizes the sound, though it's overall still strange to her ears. It's almost worrying, because she imagines the world of the past fighting with them and how it had destroyed them, but as she watches, she realizes these are different. They're slow to fire and slower to load, almost to the point that Aloy wonders why people bother. Being well-trained with a bow would be far faster and far deadlier, since she's already noticed they're not really accurate.

As Arthur takes his apart, she does end up casually wandering closer, since she's a bit curious about the components, but not so much as to impose. She's really just observing everyone, and when he does finally shoot, it only gets a passing glance of interest. Like she was thinking, not at all accurate, though she doesn't say anything about it. It's not really his fault, or so she assumes. It's also why her reply comes easily, but coolly. ]


Not really. I'm just watching.

[ Though that's probably not a good answer, is it? Aloy realizes this and considers just, well. Leaving. But she decides against it and elaborates after a small shrug. ]

I've never seen guns like that before. It's more like a cannon.
horsepowered: (x4. Serious face)

[personal profile] horsepowered 2017-10-09 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"I cannot say," Chiron admits. He keeps his voice low, to ward off those who might eavesdrop. His arms are folded across his chest, eyes still watching the scene before them both. Sacks of food are passed through the crowd, into the arms of grateful French fighters, and their response is another speech.

"This is an entirely new experience for me with nothing else to reference or compare to."

It was easier, living in the mountains of Greece and accepting those students who came to him. Their deeds and decisions were theirs, and Chiron remained alone.
lonelywar: (40)

[personal profile] lonelywar 2017-10-09 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[In this scenario, it was not too difficult to see both sides. No army could succeed without good supplies and rations, and this particular army certainly could do better for the latter for its primary forces. Ashitaka had heard that many had been asked to try to hunt for game in the nearby woods, though this was the first he had heard of how that was being distributed once it was brought back to the camp. That it would be hierarchical in some way made some sense, he supposed, but... in a way, it seemed to suggest poor leadership. Would Eboshi have eaten that much better than the porters and the women who worked the bellows? He couldn't remember. It was strange that he would think of her automatically when questioning matters of leadership, but he could not deny that she led her town with strength, even though he questioned much about her methods.

It is in Ashitaka's nature to want to intervene. Odd, since he had been told to only watch, but in watching he was supposed to find the answer in ridding himself of his curse. Even now it twinged with pain at the anger spilling from the men, verging on violent intent. It steadily galvanized him to action, though not the action it would have wanted.

The man to Ashitaka's side didn't seem so concerned, though. More interested in placing bets. He shoots him a sharp look out of the corner of his eye.]
You'd bet on something like this? [He casts his serious gaze back to the continuing argument. Some of the other men that had been with the first hunter had moved past the soldier, stopping the other men in uniform from simply walking away with the few brace of fowl.] These men speak so passionately of equality, but something like this threatens to undermine that.
lonelywar: (tfw no wolf princess gf)

[personal profile] lonelywar 2017-10-09 11:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[His first experience with the firearms beginning to grow more widespread throughout Japan had been with its cruel symptoms. There was no stronger or better way to kill a god, for even if the bullet didn't end its life, it would parasitically drain its life away until the choice existed only between death and existence as a demon. Nago, prideful and furious, had chosen the latter route, traveling eastward to where he had by chance come across Ashitaka and his village. So many aspects of it seemed so random, so minimal in chance, and yet now the mark rest coiled around his chest, ready to rob him of his own life. To Ashitaka, that was what warfare was—cruel, random chance which took so liberally of life. To him, that was what firearms represented as well.

His knowledge of his own country was still small, limited only to the reclusive village he had grown up in and could no longer return to and the line of countryside he had traveled westward, to where the people of Irontown waged war with both the gods themselves and samurai armies to maintain their economic strength. With the rifles they'd had at their disposal, they seemed capable of both.

It was truly a weapon to rule the world, as Eboshi had said. It shook in his hands, the mark seething beneath his skin as he held it. The pain was distracting, enough so that he didn't notice the man's approach until he had spoke. To Ashitaka's credit, he does not react sharply, instead turning his head slightly to fix him in a sidelong glance. The way his hand shook seemed to betray fear, but there didn't seem to be fear in his eyes. This wouldn't be a surprise to him, though. He seemed to discern the root of Ashitaka's issue with the thing. In that, the calmness of his tone, he found something to respect. He weighs his words with care.

The young man looked back to the target, pausing, thinking. He did not fear the pain that shooting the weapon might cause him by way of the demon's mark, but he did fear what the use of such a weapon in the future would do to him in the long run. After a moment's consideration, he slowly lowered the weapon, expression clouded.]


I've seen weapons like these do more damage than anything should be capable of. [He has to take his right hand off of the rifle, clenching his fist to try to stymie the unrest of the mark.] Their use in this war will do nothing but further its destruction.

[Just now a bullet shot by a woman into a boar that was a god of the forest would one day bring a cursed young man to her doorstep, only to stop himself from killing her then and there. The reason he had not done so was because he had known it would not stop anything. But in a foreign land, such a small piece in the moving of nations, what was there to do? Was there anything? The powerlessness aggrieved him more than the curse.]
putorius: (let your body get a tolerance)

[personal profile] putorius 2017-10-10 01:23 am (UTC)(link)
Okay, maybe he hadn't asked an obvious question. But it was implied, wasn't it? That much should have been obvious. If this guy couldn't see that much, he probably wasn't very bright anyway. Never mind the fact that what he said was completely true and all Draco had done was insult him without elaborating on why he'd done that or what his purpose was. He had a bit too much going on to keep track of every little thing he'd said or didn't say. Most of those things were nagging little voices reminding him of what had to be done back home. Reminding him of what would happen if he failed.

"I'll just find someone who isn't nearly so brainless, then," he snapped. Maybe with luck he could find another wizard, but he was starting to doubt that fact. He turned away from Arthur, as if he could easily get someone else's attention.
putorius: (The best of us can find happiness)

[personal profile] putorius 2017-10-10 01:28 am (UTC)(link)
That was more than enough to sour Draco's expression, his lips twisting as though he'd bitten into an exceptionally bitter lemon. As if a completely ordinary, non-magical fly and just landed in his pumpkin juice.

"I'll not be lectured by the likes of you! Now do as I say, and find me someone useful!" He itched to reach for his wand, to teach this muggle a lesson he wouldn't easily forget. But for the same reason he couldn't explain what manner of useful he needed, he couldn't just whip out his wand. He was still under age. While the rules were lax at home with his parents, he could be expelled if he started throwing magic around now. Or worse, if it was in front of a bunch of muggles.
dorzalta: (Default)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2017-10-10 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ She's not used to the wet. The hot, dry air? Oh yes. Blistering heat which darkens the skin and chaps the lips. This sort of wetness leaves her chilled to the bone far more than the winds by the cliffs at Dragonstone. ]

Mn, so they'll fight. And some will die for their cause, while others live, but they will have something worth fighting for. Something to distract them from the suffering war will cause. [ It has to be enough.

She shakes her head at his question, and steps closer to him, slipping her arm through his. It might seem like a lady merely holding on for balance, but it's far more nuanced than that: warmth, privacy (as much as they can achieve in this place), and also the touch of something--someone--familiar. ]
I don't know what to make of him, truthfully. The stances between this king and queen sounds similar enough to our own world, in some ways.

She reminds me of a maddened queen, from the whispers I have heard. [ After a thoughtful silence, she adds: ] My tent's not far, though it's hardly and dryer.
horsepowered: (x4. Serious face)

[personal profile] horsepowered 2017-10-10 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
Nothing on Chiron's face suggested that he was impressed by the response he was treated to. If anything, he looked disappointed that the young man was doubling down on pissing what was a hissy-fit over not getting his way.

He was very happy to make an escape, and turned his back to Draco.

"If you'll excuse me, I have information that needs to get to the medics regarding inventory."
dorzalta: (Default)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2017-10-10 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
The warmth in her gaze crinkles the corners of her eyes, turns the blue in them to something akin to the bright summer sky. That grunt, she recognizes it; most would not, but most are not her. How many moons had passed while she'd learned the nuances of his silences? For all that he is a man, sometimes, he reminds her so very much of his mount--even her dragons, with their grunts of pleasure and displeasure.

She doesn't think he would appreciate the comparison, however fierce they might be. Still, the giddy laugh escapes her anyway, swallowed by a kiss that she readily leans into. Even with the patter of rain pelting her, the dampness cannot extinguish the rush of warmth and happiness seeing him summons. Hands cupping his cheeks, she presses her forehead to his when the kiss comes to its end.

"My sun and stars taught me how best to bare my teeth." She has so much to tell him, so many stories she thinks he would appreciate. That time would come, though. "I didn't see you in Jerusalem."
pointedlook: (we do this fast)

[personal profile] pointedlook 2017-10-10 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ Well, if he was going to play it that way, it was no skin off his nose. Yeah, they're supposed to sort of. Work as a team. Right? Arthur ran point on all his jobs, which usually amounted to some sort of babysitting. Apparently here wasn't going to stray too far.

Momentarily grinding his teeth, he forced out huffed exhale, in slight disbelief.

He was being dismissed. Fine then. Arthur dug a little deeper in his pockets, starting to stroll away. ]


Your loss.
dorzalta: (pic#11766454)

he likes that booty don't lie

[personal profile] dorzalta 2017-10-10 03:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ He holds a weapon with confidence many lack in this space. It's one of the reasons she approaches, requesting his aid. There's a look to him, one which speaks of foreignness, despite the garb he dons. Perhaps its the way he's so singleminded in his focus, whereas the smallfolk around them grow flustered easily. Or perhaps it's his ease in which he handles the... what had they called it, again? A gun?

She stops before him, linking her fingers together, watching the way his fingers glide along the metal as if he plays an instrument and not a weapon. ]


You're familiar with battle, are you not my lord? [ Perhaps she should refrain from formalities. She'd not heard the peasants addressing each other as such. ] They've given me weapons, but I'm not skilled in hand to hand combat.
pointedlook: (worth a shot)

he'd have to be cold blooded not to appreciate

[personal profile] pointedlook 2017-10-10 03:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ Setting the rifle on the ground, muzzle first, he casually uses it to lean on. The dirt here is damp from the rain but not enough to be completely soaked.

She stops just close enough, seeming to choose her words carefully.

Arthur's eyebrows climb towards his hairline at an alarming rate when she calls him lord. Wow okay. Not something he expected. ]


It's Arthur. [ Let's get that out of the way first. He extends a hand out to her, a formal greeting, like a business transaction. ]

What have they handed you? I know enough to get by. [ That's an understatement. ]
pointedlook: (paradox)

[personal profile] pointedlook 2017-10-10 04:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ He sweeps his gaze over Aloy, scrutinizing but not unkindly. At this point, it's more out of habit than anything else. She carries herself with confidence but not arrogance.

In a way, it feels like a feedback loop in the moment pause, both of them observing first and dipping into the conversation with some caution. ]


They're not ideal, honestly. [ Arthur smiles wryly and steps a few paces away to sit and take the rifle apart again to clean. He's figured out the aim adjustment, it's unnecessary to keep wasting ammunition. ]

I'm not really used to something as old as this. Or as slow. [ Or loud. His one ear is still ringing, despite the hat being tilted over it. ] If I had any experience with a bow, that'd be better I think.
putorius: (And let December glow in flames)

[personal profile] putorius 2017-10-10 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
One spell. That's all it would take. He could freeze the man in place. He could force him to do whatever he wanted. He could cause him immense pain to teach him a lesson. It would be so easy. A muggle would never even know what hit them. He was good enough to do it without uttering a word. He'd never know...

Instead, he curled his hands into fists at his dies, fingernails digging crescents into his palms. A reminder he couldn't risk it. Not until he could get away from the tent to find out for sure. Maybe he didn't even need to do research, though that was the safer route. His theory was shifting at the back of his mind as he thought over more aspects of everything he'd found out so far. He didn't want to look too closely over this newest idea because in a lot of ways it was worse.

"You'll do no such thing!" he barked. It wasn't a hissy-fit it was demanding respect. (no it wasn't) "You will find me someone, or you'll sorely regret it."
putorius: (And let December glow in flames)

[personal profile] putorius 2017-10-10 06:19 am (UTC)(link)
His loss? He didn't think so. But he wasn't going to let this muggle think he was some how superior. He stopped, mid-turn, and abruptly turned on his heel to face Arthur again.

"My loss?" He sneered. "Hardly. What could you possibly do for me that I couldn't find in one of these pathetic..." He quickly swallowed the word 'muggles', trying to find a replacement. Anything that came to mind just made it sound ridiculous. "...miscreants," he spat out after only a slight pause.
pointedlook: (i don't think that is going to work)

[personal profile] pointedlook 2017-10-10 06:31 am (UTC)(link)
[ He may not be superior, firepower wise, to a wizard. But hey, he's doing his dang best.

Arthur's only halfway through his strides away from the punk teen when Draco pipes up again, condescension dripping in every word. Pausing, he slants a look over his shoulder, still clearly nonplussed, despite the continued insults. ]


I'm sorry, I couldn't understand you over the howl of your attitude. [ Somehow, his voice is still level, only the barest of annoyance bubbling to the surface. ]

Are you done? Clearly you've made up your mind about me so I don't feel like wasting my breath justifying my resume.
lonelywar: (20)

c

[personal profile] lonelywar 2017-10-10 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
When he had first been informed to keep an eye open for any abnormalities in the people around them, for they might be afflicted with Regency spies and saboteurs, Ashitaka's first response had been uncertainty. It stretched his mind to its limits to even begin to understand the place, time, and culture they had been thrust into, and the machinations of COST and the Regency were further nuances that he was consistently reminding himself of. It was enough energy spent to make himself not appear suspicious (usually done by seeking out to be overlooked rather than partake in many cultural forays he knew would look awkward if he replicated), let alone seek out others apart from their own that stood out.

Certainly, with how the Regency had been cast in their eyes, they would be better prepared than that.

So Ashitaka was not exactly participating in the hunt, but his keeping out of sight and out of mind did land him nearby when the altercation occurred. He sits up straight as the punch lands, an internal restlessness entreating him to act but without any straightforward impulse to act upon. He usually responded quickly to such things, but he had usually felt strongly about what was the right thing to do. This place and what they were called to do had complicated that greatly.

So he remains an observer until after the man had been pacified. He storms away, the child scattering in the same moment. Ashitaka approaches a moment later.

"Are you alright?" The first and most important thing to ask.

After a moment's thought and rumination from the words he had caught as he approached, however, he adds, "The boy would appreciate you taking a blow in his stead, even if he doesn't show it." Or maybe it was just wishful thinking, the same he had used in convincing himself he'd done the right thing, forcibly taking San out of Irontown, even as she held his blade to his throat.
putorius: (I dare you to say they taste the same)

[personal profile] putorius 2017-10-10 06:48 am (UTC)(link)
There was only so much Draco could take before something snapped. The weight of what he left behind was the bulk of it, what he'd been dragged away from. But trying to piece together where he was, why he was here, and if there were even other wizards about was enough to push a young man to the breaking point alone. But on top of it all was the various standards and behaviors that had been drilled into him by his father, adding additional strain. When the snap eventually came, there it would either be explosive rage or implosive despair. Either was incapacitating in the wrong setting, and it was near impossible to control which way it went.

Some how, that dismissive tone was the breaking point. That utter lack of respect that Draco had so long commanded. Before he could think through it, before he could push it down like he so often did, he was reaching for his wand. He had it pointed at Arthur before he could stop himself. And before he fully realized what he was doing, let alone why he was doing it, he uttered the words "Locomotor Mortis!"

Unless Arthur managed to evade the spell, his legs would snap together as if magnetized to one another. Whether or not he remained upright depended entirely on him, but at least now he couldn't so easily walk away.
pointedlook: (i'm impressed)

[personal profile] pointedlook 2017-10-10 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ If there's one thing he's absolutely familiar with, it's breaking points. Arthur had watched Mal's descent into madness despite her protests. Despite the therapy. He'd followed Dom all over the world, watched him break into tinier and tinier pieces and become less of himself.

He'd felt something snap clean through on the Fischer job when Saito was shot, only repairable through time.

Draco's face goes from sneering fury to sheer anger in the space between his words. Arthur recognizes it for what it is, but he's not fast enough to get out of the way of the explosion. His legs snap together, shins knocking uncomfortably, and he less than gracefully drops right onto his ass.

In the mud. It has been raining.

Eyes wide, he snaps his gaze to Draco, stares at the wand still pointed in his direction. ]


Did you just– [ He cuts off, mouth suddenly quirking up and a disbelieving laugh shakes loose, all the tension unfurling. ]

You just magically tied my shoes together. [ Arthur manages to wheeze out, expression lit up like a total child. ] Are you for real?
handtowels: (uncertain ❄ hard choices)

[personal profile] handtowels 2017-10-10 09:20 am (UTC)(link)
Takatora sets down the reins and gets off of the cart. A quick death in one confident blow sits fine with him. The intimidation doesn't bother him enough to make a fuss, though that may be because he doesn't know German.

"The one way this rain actually helps. I wonder if I could make fog."

It's not something he's tried, but it could be potentially be useful. Ice is his only trick, but sheer volume makes up for his lack of variety. He begins to walk over.

"What did he say? Does he have anything on him?"
handtowels: (uncertain ❄ thought)

[personal profile] handtowels 2017-10-10 09:33 am (UTC)(link)
Takatora glances back over his shoulder at the sneeze.

"Are you actually doubting my readiness? Of course I have hand towels prepared."

He reaches into his jacket and pulls one out, pressing it into Yoshitsugu's hand. Cleaning is one of the vital functions they serve, so he's not bothered by its fate.

"You work fast, Yoshitsugu. I didn't realise you meant your sickness was imminent."

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