Into The Fire...(open)

[SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] Never hold back your step for a moment ( 408 ) WORDS ( open ) TAGGED ( Complete ) IN/COMPLETE Percy was stood outside the forecourt of the Palais De Justice. It seemed like an eternity ago he had infiltrated its walls in order to rescue The Comte and Comtesse de Tournay and their daughter, but perhaps soon he would be doing it again. He felt a thrill of excitement shoot through him, a part of him loathed the quiet life. He loved the thrill of a puzzle, of confounding the Frenchies and jumping off high walls into haystacks. He knew he wasn’t as young as he once was, but he wasn’t dead either. He noted, from his position by one of the market stalls, that there seemed to be double the guards at the entrance. It would appear they also sensed the rumbles from the people; they were directly in the eye of the storm. Percy knew he would be ready, for when the storm would finally arrive. The league were restless, many felt the way he did. It had been too long; too long had they sat in their fine halls, while the France took a downward spiral. Percy, walked slowly along the market place, he was dressed down, well as dressed down as he could be for Percy. Less color meant he was less likely to attract as much attention as Sir Percy tended to. He was wearing his black full length coat, buttoned up to his crisp white cravat. Smart and simple. The market place was busy and there seemed to be a small gang of young people gathering around the entrance of the gates, no doubt a group gathering to protest one of the governments many actions. Protests here were not uncommon. Percy recalled a few years ago when it was popular among the people to dress dummies in fine gowns and burn them outside the Palais. It was a protest against the aristocracy. Percy wondered if there would ever be peace in France, the fighting seemed to have been going on for so long. Percy was only grateful that England upheld the rights of its people, although England itself could be doing more for France. Percy flicked a silver coin at one of the stall owns and pocketed one of the pies for sale. No doubt it was cat…he chuckled to himself, Sir Andrew had been moaning about the lack of good food, well his reaction to the pie wold certainly keep Percy in good spirits for the rest of the day. Sorry this is a bit mehh, but :)

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Deleted]

Marius Pontmercy had been wondering the streets since the early morning hours. Restless as usual, the young man took to the streets in search of any signs, news, or information that could benefit his comrades for the cause. He had been a less than useful member of the group as of late. He could only hope to find something before the others did. Marius sought to get his finger upon the pulse of the people. He spent so much time among students and revolutionaries…but what were the people he hoped to be serving really talking about? Well…that is what he had hoped to discover as his dusty old shoes carried him down the streets of Paris. After hours of walking empty side streets, Marius found himself lead to the market place. If there ever was a pulse to the city, he could find it here to be certain.

He took in all the sights and sounds eagerly. A slight smile graced his young, naïve features. He was a young man yet tried by the world. His lack of wrinkles or aged skin only told the world more of his fortunate upbringing. The only outward signs of his present poverty and distress where seen through the bags under his eye lids and the over worn quality given to his high quality garments. Marius paid no mind to himself at all as he walked about observing. His ears gathered bits of conversation here and there. Those ears of his yearned for a single word of revolution or disquiet…but none were to be found. Meat pies was piping hot. Handkerchiefs came plain, fancy, and monogrammed. Doilies for every fair lady were a must. A pair of earrings were a must buy for the young love bird. Chicken cost a man about an arm and a half, and he was not happy about it. Marius heard everything but what he was loking for. That bit with the chicken got him excited for a moment, but a man haggling over a price is not about to seek government overthrow…or was he?

Marius was so lost in his reconnaissance that he completely lost track of his own location in space. He soon found himself taking a tumble. A cart containing some of those questionably delectable meat pies seemed to have arrived right in the same place that Marius was unintentionally trying to occupy. His last sight before the tumble was of a finely dressed gentleman seeming to walk the other direction. Marius then inhaled sharply as he found himself tumbling forward in an array of wood, pie crust, meat slosh, and shouts from the crowd that was not forming. The spill sent him lying on his belly atop the cart until he slid, along with the merchandise, out onto the dusty ground. Marius spit some pie from his mouth as he finally came to a stop. He allowed himself a moment to lie there defeated before his eyes caught a glimpse of the gun that had gracefully slid from his pocket just a bit out of his arm’s reach. He quickly brushed some of the meat pie from his face before he made a grab for the item he desire to return to its hiding place. Marius could only hope to grab the firearm before someone else did.

[SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] Never hold back your step for a moment ( 512 ) WORDS ( Marius ) TAGGED ( Complete ) IN/COMPLETE Being back in Paris filled Percy with a sense of accomplishment; this is what he was born to do. To make a difference in people’s lives, a small difference maybe, but a difference all the same. The break from league work had been a long one, he originally thought that stopping the work was what he wanted, but after a few months the novelty of the break had worn off and he became restless. He loved the thrill of the job and the satisfaction that came with it. Zounds! He was the Pimpernel! The Pimpernel didn’t rest and he was at the top of his game. Why stop helping the people of France when there were Frenchies to confound? Percy paused as he heard a ruckus coming from behind him, what in God’s name was going on? He turned on the spot to catch a young man taking an ungallant tumble into a cart, what followed can only be described as a small disaster. Pies, splintered wood and food scattered everywhere as the young boy was tossed off his feet by the force of the impact. Percy’s quick eyes picked up on the sight of the angry stall owner looming over the boy. He had just lost a day’s stock and his anger was apparent. Percy moved closer to the scene, just in time to see the stall owner pick up the rustic gun that had slipped from the boys pocket onto the ground. The owner brandished the gun at Marius, the words that followed Percy couldn’t quite make out over the crowd, but it didn’t take a Pimpernel to know the boy was in some danger of losing his life. Percy moved gracefully into the path of Marius blocking him from the sight of the gun, ‘my my we are excitable aint we?’ he said sharply to the stall owner ‘don’t wave that damned shooter at me johnny I aint impressed... here for your troubles’ he said, tossing a small bag of coins to the owner and holding his hand out for the gun, ‘now hand it over before you take someones eye out with it’, Percy held his hand out to receive the gun and waited while the owner inspected the coins he had given him. The boy must have been very preoccupied to not spot the oncoming cart; it was unwise to be so unaware of ones surroundings, especially in the streets of Paris. The cart owner grunted his approval at the coins and handed the gun over to Percy, obviously trusting in his aristocratic dress that he wouldn’t shoot him. Foolish perhaps…but it made things much easier on Percy. Percy smiled smugly and turned to survey the boy, ‘my dear boy I’m not sure that colour is quite fitting of you’ he said in regards to the lad’s new combination of food and muck. Hope this is ok <3 If you wanted more of a confrontation with the cart owner, i will edit. <3

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[PAUL CHAUVELIN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #595454; background-image:url(http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a223/Achillea/texture_zpsaf0bcd80.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] Paul-François ...........................................................................................DARKNESS, DARKNESS LONG AND LONESOME, IS THE DAY THAT BRINGS ME HERE I HAVE FELT THE EDGE OF SADNESS ..................................................................I HAVE KNOWN THE DEPTHS OF FEAR DARKNESS, DARKNESS BE MY BLANKET, COVER ME WITH ENDLESS NIGHT .....................................................................TAKE AWAY THIS PAIN OF KNOWING FILL THIS EMPTINESS WITH LIGHT

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chauvelin

One nice thing about the current regime,Chauvelin thought, glancing from side to side at the increased security as he emerged from the gates of the Palais du Justice, they actually listen to me. Unlike the last republican lot, who'd decided they were far too enlightened to sully themselves with an assassin and torturer; a walking, talking relic of the 'old ways of doing things.' The 'relic' snorted soundlessly. Not that more guards would save the aristos -- nothing would, not now. They'd gone too far already. In fact, they'd gone too far at the very beginning, and the last three years had only poured salt into that wound.

Soon, he judged before the year was out, it would be the republicans' turn. He'd seen it all before, too many times and too viscerally to mistake it. France was on the brink of another -- yet another! -- revolution. Once again, the people would rise up. Once again, they would shout about Freedom, and Justice, and Equality, and once again they would really be screaming for revenge. And the bloody cycle would begin once more.

I'm getting too old for this, Chauvelin thought, skirting the edges of the square. It wasn't like he needed the money. But he would never quit, and he knew it. For all the risk, it was the only time he felt truly alive. Intrigue was in his blood and bones, the thrill of the challenge, the hunt, the secrets. Perhaps the Pimpernel would even return.

As if conjured by the thought, a familiar figure came into the old spymaster's view just ahead. The clothing was uncharacteristically subdued, but there was no mistaking that tall, slender frame or the casual arrogance of the movements. Sir Percy Blakeney. The man Chauvelin -- and only Chauvelin -- knew to be the provocateur known as the Scarlet Pimpernel.

For a moment, the Frenchman considered turning and going another way to avoid being recognized, but only for a moment. This was Paris, Chauvelin's city. He would walk where he pleased.

Smiling slightly, Chauvelin continued on.

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TAG -- Sir Percy, Marius.
NOTES -- Chauv is dressed rather better than in his republican days
DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANT
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

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