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Post by gustave on Feb 22, 2013 5:44:10 GMT -5
Stuck in the pigsty with an old man whose apparent hope for rescue would come from another man who would have to sneak past or kill the guards, not alert anyone else in broad daylight and somehow to cut the both of them fre- Oh well probably the Clerk, no doubt Gustave would be left to stew in the gut-wrenching stench of the pigsty. Surprisingly not the worst smelling place Gustave had, had the unfortunate honor of staying in, in fact it was nowhere near as bad as the smell of the some of the slum houses he had broken into in both his youth and in his profession as a police officer. The smell in those places was just as similar as the smell of pig sh*& and other assorted sh*& but it was compounded by the visible scent of human pain and despair. Deep, heartfelt pain that reverberated within Gustave and made him melancholic to even consider it. The fury in his grey eyes abated slightly but it rose up again with a hateful vengeance as he saw the children gathering rocks to throw at them. Gustave stared right at the lead boy with those grey eyes burning with so much pent up rage that they threatened to turn into balls of fire. The boy stared back resolutely and reached for a stone to throw.
They were shooed off by some sort of noble-woman. Gustave spat on the floor where the boys had been standing and muttered four word obscenities about the state of his once beautiful country and how in his day if he'd been caught throwing rocks he'd hardly be let off with just a small scolding. He grumbled and then fell silent once more staring at his black boots thoughtfully, thinking of anyway at all to get out of this indignant hole that he stranded himself in by surrendering like a thoughtful man would do. He looked at the woman standing over him with a slightly amused look in her face and part of him wished to spit on that amused look and turn it to anger. He wanted to lash out at someone or something for letting himself get caught like this the warrior in Gustave wanted him to struggle, to not give up the fight. To carry on and to push himself to the very edge of his monumental strength.
Gustave however was a beaten man, a soldier without a cause who had no belief in this false hope of, "A man." those grey eyes, so much like a wounded bears rested on the woman's face, she had a kind, gentle and pretty face and one that belied a certain innocence and naivety that had Gustave been perhaps twenty years younger he no doubt would have taken slight advantage of in courting her. But she was spoken for his keen sight undampened by the wear and tear of age sighted the love lost look in her eyes. He blinked slowly and just looked at her; he a beaten, broken man sat in such mess that he could not bear to imagine how cleaning his clothes would go and her a noble-woman whose clothes though tattered were still of noble stock, whose poise, bearing and indeed her face were more noble than someone like Gustave could aspire to be.
But the detective in him was roused by the woman's face and particularly the eyes, beautiful color as they were. There was something familiar there. He looked away from the woman and by chance laid eyes on the Clerk who had also gone silent and had assumed a calm air that served to allay the soldier's worry slightly. The eyes.... Gustave allowed no change in facial expression as he stared at the floor, no gasp of recognition. No. Nothing. But the eyes were the same and Gustave allowed himself a moment to think quietly and carefully not allowing how hard he was concentrating to affect the way he looked at all. He moved his hands slightly just to check something and he felt the bonds give a little. He strained his muscles. His face remained still and he felt the bonds move and he breathed through his nose.
Looking at the woman he thought to himself. 'A flower of France such as you should not be bound by some idiot's petty beliefs.'
The sentiment remained however. Unsaid.
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PAUL CHAUVELIN
French Government
Spymaster
Posts: 200
Joined: Jan 25, 2013 11:17:51 GMT -5
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Post by PAUL CHAUVELIN on Feb 22, 2013 12:34:17 GMT -5
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Paul-François [style=text-align: right]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 |
[/font][/size][/style] chauvelin The Grognard's expression could most politely be described as skeptical, and Chauvelin could hardly blame him. The big man had never met the assassin, and even if he had he probably still wouldn't have believed. When Paul himself had first met the ferret-like man so many years ago, he'd been dubious as well. Thin, and with sharp, angular features, the assassin looked for all the world like a street cast-off – which was his greatest strength. He was so unremarkable as to be virtually invisible and, despite his chronic cough, he could move with a stealth that was extremely unnerving. He was probably already in place, watching and waiting the right moment.
At the sight of the girl – well, the young woman – Chauvelin needed all of the talent for deception he'd learned in decades of deception to keep his expression blank. It was like seeing a ghost. No, he thought, a ghost from a dream. A fever dream, brought by an infected wound that plunged him into delirium. He had only bits and pieces of that time, from the night he'd crawled into the caves to the morning he awakened alone, weak and spent, but finally on the mend. Lisette was in all of those fragments, with her cool hands and hot, bitter teas. And her body, strong, yet soft and yielding … but had that been real? She'd seemed by turns angel and devil, perhaps it had all been illusion.
It couldn't be her, anyway. That had all been years ago, longer than this young woman had been alive. If Lisette still lived – if she'd even ever existed – she'd be closer to Gustave's age now. And she'd been a peasant, that had been plain in her dress and speech, where this girl was clearly well-born; for all that she was associating with republican rabble.
The old spymaster smiled inwardly in bleak amusement. He was a fine one to talk. Paul-François, Marquis de Chauvelin, had been associating with republican rabble himself at her age. Of course that was the First Revolution and he'd had – they'd all had – the excuse of having no idea of the horrifyingly bloody consequences. This lot had been barely children during the last revolution, or perhaps they just didn't care. Or, more likely, they were convinced with the arrogance of youth that they of course, would get it right.
She certainly had the anger and hatred down perfectly. For all the kindness of shooing away the boys with the rocks, she then sent the two prisoners she'd just spared a stoning a poisonous look. And followed up the glare with a taunting comment.
Shifting his shoulders to ease the pressure of the rough boards, Chauvelin turned his head to meet her eyes squarely. "'Insults are the arguments employed by those who are in the wrong,'" he quoted, his calm voice tinged with mockery. The words were Rousseau's, not that he really expected her, republican or not, to recognize them.
[/left] TAG -- Henri NOTES – Henri would recognize Chauv's horse as a very fine animal.lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANTmade by ANYA of caution 2.0 [/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT on Feb 22, 2013 16:33:50 GMT -5
Henri nodded thoughtfully at Nathaniel's explanation of the situation. If the tip turned out to be true and the two men did indeed have some kind of valuable information, it would be without a doubt a blessing. Their location was meant to conceal them, but the other side of that same coin of secrecy was that they could at times be isolated from things they needed to know.
“The estate,” he answered. He gestured toward the horse's saddlebags to indicate that he had returned with some supplies. Those supplies, however, could keep for a bit longer. Their new-found prisoners were a far more pressing concern than the few things he'd brought back with him. With a gesture to call over one of the other men and an order to leave his saddle, bags included, at his tent, he handed his horse's reins to one of his subordinates.
As valuable as information could be, the very presence of the strange men troubled him. Henri didn't relish the idea of killing them, but unless he determined that he could trust them—and he very much doubted that would prove to be the case, despite the filth they looked far too official--his options would be distressingly limited. Retain them as prisoners indefinitely, a strain on their already limited resources with the requirement to feed and guard them, or simply kill them. The latter, he thought, might prove the more rational option.
He noticed Helene then, almost from the corner of his eye. He repressed the urge to smile at her. An inappropriate display of affection, given the situation, and neither did he want these possible enemies to know that they could hurt him by hurting her. He didn't entirely like her proximity to the prisoners anyway; although he could only assume that Nathaniel's men had searched them and disarmed them, her safety was still his responsibility. He could not predict what desperately confined men might elect to do.
The horse that had been captured along with them, at least, was worth keeping indefinitely. Not that it allayed his suspicions about the men's origins—Nathaniel had described the far less burly of the two prisoners as a clerk, but Henri could think of no reason a simple clerk would possess a mount of that caliber.
Both men were older than he had thought from a distance. One was spending a bit too long with his eyes fixed on Helene—all the more proof that she shouldn't be standing so close to the pigsty. Whatever the man's intentions were, Henri found none of the possibilities that sprang to mind to his taste. It relieved him slightly when the man's gaze shifted, first to his companion and then to the ground.
Good. Better that he look at the pigs' filth than at Helene, no matter what information he might have come bearing. Her taunt brought something that could almost have become a smile to his lips.
He had always loved her spirit.
That one of the men in the pigsty had actually responded irritated him somewhat. The words themselves were familiar to him—though it took him a moment to place them. Rousseau? His suspicion deepened. Frowning at the smell, he took a few steps closer to the enclosure.
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Post by nathanielredenei on Feb 26, 2013 17:26:45 GMT -5
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The Estate, so then Nathaniel's suspicions had indeed been correct, there were not many places that the leader of the Sacred Heart could go and return Safely, but his estate was one of them. While Nate had expected it though and yes it might be one of the safest places bar the camp for Henri to go and get supplies, it was still a bit of a risk, as Nate expressed with a sigh of exasperation at Henri's answer. He Knew though no matter how much Nate would love to keep him safe Henri would still do something if he believed it right, Nathaniel could not control him after all, and Nate would never try to do so. He would give him advice though and companionship should he need it, he would die to defend his friend, and that was one of the ways he saw himself going out at his friend’s defence. The other’s would be at the defence of his friends lover Helene or his adopted daughter Vanessa, he would always be there for Vanessa, he would give his life for her, for Henri and for the values he felt important to him, for what they were fighting for, a better world for them all.
"I see a fruitful endeavour then?" He asked almost a little too casually for the situation, deciding it was not worth it to challenge his going. He nodded over to the horse, at the supplies that Henri had seemed to have gathered for the camp. He was not sure how long they would last though, but hopefully some time at least. Everyone was getting the same amount at least, they had made sure of that, it was not right for others to be getting more than someone else, even more so considering supplies could become very delicate at any moment. There was also another reason Nate could not blame Henri for his use of his estate to gain supplies, on many of his trips into Paris Nate had used some of his acquaintances to gain supplies for the camp thus putting himself in danger as well, then again Nate never liked to dwell on his own hypocrisy, plus Henri was a lot more important than Nathaniel. Everyone knew that keeping Henri safe was paramount, just about everyone in the camp looked to him to be strong, one of the many things that seemed to be tiring his friend.
He Would have said more but instead he turned to Christian "Christian make yourself useful and see to Ames's health, we need to see if he will be able to walk again." He gave Christian a pointed look, he instantly understood and made to head for where the medic was, with a quick salute to both Henri and Nate. Nate however turned back to look at Henri his face a mask a lot more official than it needed to be, no emotion held in it."Sadly we may have limited losses but Ames may not be able to fight, I believe the soldier maybe have crippled him." It most likely would have happened anyway, he however left out the part where he had made sure for Ames to get closer and had been able to steal his gun. Nathaniel was not sorry for what he had done, but least the man had lived so there was something, then again from the state he was in death might have been better. The men though had certainly been shown partly how dangerous the soldier was so it was a good enough warning for them to at least be cautious but smart about how they dealt with him.
Nate noticed that Henri's attention was preoccupied with what was going on at the Pigsty, so he turned to follow his gaze, the first thing he noted was that Helene was there, she had just shooed off some of the kids throwing stones and had thrown a taunt at the captured men. He Always loved her for her spirit, hmm but it might be best if she stayed away from them. He sighed, maybe it was time to tell Henri one of his concerns, he frowned though at the Clerk's retort That was Rousseau, what would a simple Clerk know of him, or has he just heard it somewhere before? He shook his head to dispel that thought and then turned to Henri concerned for Helene "It may be best if you get her away from the Sty, I don't think there is danger, but that soldier I Would not be surprised if he has a weapon somewhere that we have not searched a simple Knife or something smaller." He whispered this but his voice was very much full of concern, it was not an attempt to worry Henri, but to at least keep him on the edge and ready for anything, even though the men were captured you should be ready for anything. Never let your guard down.
Nate had been wondering if his gift to Vanessa had been given yet or not, he could never know with Helene not entirely, he was thinking of asking her when he was brought out of his thoughts. "Nathaniel Sir!" Came an urgent voice to his right, turning he found it was one of the men from Christian's ambush party, one of the ones he had sent to search the belongings. Maybe the search has been fruitful? Whatever he has found it sounds urgent. Nathaniel watched as the man made his way towards him with a letter in hand, Nate stood still trying not to twitch not letting excitement get the better of him, his seemed to be it was what they were looking for, it was bound to be something good. Nate noted that the man's hand was covering something maybe a stamp? He would know soon enough. The Man reached him and gave him a salute before a look of pleasure dawned on his face something that Nate almost but did not replicate."You Will want to see this Sir." The man stood back as Nate took the letter and the first thing he saw was the Royal seal, he almost dropped the letter unbelieving of what he saw, it was almost true good to be true. Not yet we have to find out its contents it might be some rubbish and even if it is something useful we must go careful about it. Nathaniel looked over at Henri who was still preoccupied so he opened the letter and read.
Nate read it again and again almost lost to the world as he did, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets at the incredible fortune that had befallen them. Even if this is a trap this is too good an opportunity to miss, I would just have to hope it is not one and make the appropriate plans, and the backup plans of course. It seemed that the Clerk had be couriering a message, an introductory letter to get into gunpowder mill near Essonne, it was perfect, too perfect. He mulled it over in his mind some more before looking back up at where Henri was and the man who had given him the letter. "Thank you, go back to the belongings and check for anything else, make sure you have everything. Well done Soldier." He gave a salute and one of his rare smiles before turning to go after Henri, he would need to see the letter after all, however he did not notice the young boy that stood nearby his eye on everything going on. "Henri a Moment it seems as if we were right," His smug grin was something that only Henri has seen before and one he had not done in a very long while, he was in a very good mood. He held out his hand to pass the letter over Making sure the royal stamp and it’s other official sings could be seen. "Very good news." The Letter gave not only the bearer permission to enter but the guard commander was to render the bearer obedience and every assistance. It was a fortified gunpowder mill a lot of things could go wrong inside, and if it was a trap it was not good let’s say that, it was a good thing Nate decided he knew how to plan for almost every possibility.
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Post by HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU on Mar 3, 2013 16:27:14 GMT -5
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WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN
For all of Helene’s kindness, there was a fire that burned deep within her, a fire which was beginning to burn bright. All it took was one small spark to infuriate her. She had learnt from past experiences that those who made assumptions about her, were not worth her time, especially those who clearly meant to do her and her camp harm. Helene blinked, pushing her brown locks from her face as a cool north wind breezed through camp. She recalled her younger years, where she found herself the object of cruel jibes; it seemed the local villagers had long memories as they treated her unkindly for the sins of her mother. Her mother who birthed Helene out of wedlock, then ensnared a Marquis. Sometimes Helene felt the stares from the same people in camp, and mutterings about her relationship with Henri, living in camp alone and unwed. She ignored them; they were only the gossip of narrow minded people. She knew her place was here, and hoped God would forgive her for her choices.
Helene fixed her stony eyes upon the one who had spoken, turning away from Henri and Nathaniel who seemed fixated in conversation, although there was a moment she was certain Nathaniel was talking about her. Helene was in no doubt about what Nathaniel was saying to Henri, she was certain he was concerned about her close proximity to the prisoners. How utterly absurd, she thought observing the two tied like animals to the edge of the pigsty, completely helpless.
She took a step closer to the men, her eyes narrowing as she recognised the words the older man spoke. Helene had been brought up by the teachings of Rousseau and would recognise his words anywhere.
‘How dare you speak his words, you may spout his philosophy, but you do not follow his ideals.’ Helene said passionately, ‘I’m sure you would know all about being in the wrong though wouldn’t you?’ she added. Helene was referring specifically to the current state of Paris, and the people who were starving in the streets, dying of disease and being ignored by those who could help them. The injustice was outrageous, and Helene held no doubt something could be done if the country became a republic. ‘Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains. Those who think themselves the masters of others are indeed greater slaves than they.’ She responded, backing up her argument in the words of Rousseau himself, just as the spy had done. Helene chose to ignore the ironic fact, that the two men were infact bound. Her words did not mean the literal term, but she was sure the man would understand her point.
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[/b]Nate, Chauv, Gus, Henri words ![/b] 424 notes ![/b]Thankyou for being so patient[/color][/div] this lovely template was made by Arro from Caution 2.0 and features lyrics belonging to the oh so amazing Joshua Radin. please leave all of this credit stuff in tact and leave a link for Miss Roro here if you are going to be using this anywhere. Thank you, loves! [/style][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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PAUL CHAUVELIN
French Government
Spymaster
Posts: 200
Joined: Jan 25, 2013 11:17:51 GMT -5
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Post by PAUL CHAUVELIN on Mar 7, 2013 19:17:42 GMT -5
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Paul-François [style=text-align: right]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 |
[/font][/size][/style] chauvelin Chauvelin rolled his eyes heavenward. "'I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one:'" he said, quoting Voltaire this time as he brought his gaze back down to Helene. "'"O Lord make my enemies ridiculous." And God granted it.'"
Keeping his attention on her, he ignored the two young men, knowing that both actions would prick their young male pride. The sergeant said nothing, though whether that was out of trust or appalled shock at the deliberate antagonizing of their captors he couldn't be sure – he hoped it was the former. It was a fine and delicate line he was walking, provoking them as he was, but it was something he was skilled at and necessary for his and the sergeant's survival. They needed to be angry with him – angry enough to be determined to take the time to prove him wrong, but not so angry as to fly into a killing rage.
"I certainly know all about being in the wrong place," he continued. "Which is how I find myself and my friend here at the mercy of a pack of hypocritical children.
"Do you regularly abduct and imprison travelers in order to lecture them about freedom? Try to deny them the words of a man you venerate and wish everyone could hear? Judge them as prejudiced when you know nothing about them?" He snorted eloquently. "What will it be next? A harangue about injustice, delivered to men about to be murdered by you and your oh-so-high-minded friends?" [/left] TAG -- Henri NOTES – None at present.lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANTmade by ANYA of caution 2.0 [/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT on Mar 8, 2013 21:05:47 GMT -5
Henri of course hoped that Ames had not in fact been crippled, but the matter was out of his hands—the attack had, apparently, gone more or less according to Nathaniel's plan, and he was no doctor. It bothered him that sometimes people got hurt, but he had already learned to expect a certain number of casualties to occur now and then. Nathaniel's warning about Helene resonated with his own concerns, but he remained silent. I must not show them how much I care.
He accepted the letter from Nathaniel, reading it quickly before passing it back. Very good news indeed... He did his best to remain to all appearances impassive. If it's true. It was convenient that these were the men they had happened to capture... unless, the thought came to him disturbingly, it had been deliberate. What if these men had surrendered not because of the tactical brilliance of his second-in-command, but because they were acting on orders from the crown, to suppress their nascent revolution?
If that were the case, even if the government didn't know much about the Sacred Heart yet, it would when these men were released. Executions may very well soon be in order... He handed the letter back to Nate, nodding slightly. He desperately wanted to believe that they would soon have all the gunpowder they could possibly require. The letter would require further discussion, but now was neither the place nor the time. Whatever plans they could form, to do so in front of prisoners was the height of folly. He was certain Nathaniel would understand this, even without words.
He still tried to keep his eyes off Helene. She was safer if the imprisoned men did not realize that she was his vulnerability. He imagined himself going to her side, placing a hand affectionately on her shoulder and guiding her, gently, away from these strangers. Instead, he let her speak, a warm feeling of love and pride in his chest as he listened to her words. My Helene. My intelligent, beautiful Helene. His smile, he hoped, was imperceptible.
The supposed clerk's words brought him to the fence of the pigsty. It bothered him that the man was speaking directly to Helene, more than it had bothered him that she had spoken to the men. The words themselves irritated him, too. He didn't like to have the knife's-edge line of hypocrisy pointed out to him.
“We may know nothing about you, but we know what we see. It would trouble me to hear the words of Rousseau in the baying of the king's hounds.” If the boy-king can handle even dogs. He tried to meet the man's eyes. He prayed he wasn't playing directly into his hand.
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Post by nathanielredenei on Mar 12, 2013 21:43:39 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][/style][style=width: 450px; background-color: ffffff; text-align:center; padding: 8px; line-height: 10px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: 000000;][style=background-image:url(http://i49.tinypic.com/11kea2v.jpg); width: 252px; height: 138px; float: left; margin-top:10px;] WHEN'S IT GONNA END, HOW WE GONNA LIVE, SOMETHIN'S GOTTA HAPPEN NOW, SOMETHIN'S GOTTA GIVE [/style][style=width: 252px; height: 26px; float: left; margin-top:10px] made by historyofus of caution
Nathaniel took the letter back looking it over again himself, those thoughts of doubt still there, the thoughts that he had brought up earlier, something told him he was going to have to draw up not only the plan to get in but make sure he had a plan for if this was a trap as well, he had a few ideas and he would share them with Henri at a later date, now was not the time for such things. There would also be the need to protect the camp even more if they would go through with this, and then there it was again that thought and worry of this begin a trap it was rather convenient. All the people here, Vanessa the Lady Helene, someone trustworthy would need to protect them just encase, who could he trust though? He was not sure he knew he needed to think about this some more.
It would take some time though and to be honest discussion and his thoughts on this would have to wait, he silently nodded at Henri knowing what his silence meant, this was neither the time nor the place to talk about it, here out in the open with two enemies who might have wanted to get caught. Looking at them know he wanted to execute them on the spot, but they might hold more information for them. Extract then execute, get it over and done with now so they did not become nuisances later, he was not sure his friend would like that though, yes he was getting harder over time, however he might see some importance in them, the only problem Nate thought was that the longer they held them the more time they had to attempt an escape, something that if they had knowledge of the camp which could be disastrous.
Meanwhile Helene was still talking to the clerk, they were both trading barbs with each other and the fact that both Helene and Henri was reacting unnerved him a little. He frowned at the prisoner, he came to the conclusion that the ‘clerk’ could be trying to anger them, there could be many reasons for this but either way Nate did not like it and felt Henri or Helene may not see this, not wanting him to know that he had caught on though he felt he may as well say something. He might not even be trying to anger them on purpose, could just be doing it, but Nate was not so sure.
"No dear Clerk your right we know nothing of you, maybe you should tell us, maybe your name for a start." He sounded rather bored as he walked up next to Henri and gave Helene a small nod. He was trying to divert the Clerk's attention a bit, this trading of barbs could only really result in anger or annoyance and something told him he knew it. "Or would you rather prefer to sit there and insult the lady's intelligence," he sighed a little and glanced once more at Helene before whispering something Henri. "If you don't want him talking to her remove her from the situation." He urged him, he knew Helene would not like it but he felt it may be for her own safety, looking from Helene to the Clerk for a moment he felt he recognized something but shook it off before just resting his eyes on the clerk.
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Post by HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU on Mar 15, 2013 12:04:43 GMT -5
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WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN
To be brutally honest, Helene was mighty curious as to why these strangers were tied up in the pigsty. She felt very strongly about the mistreatment of prisoners, although there was no better place in camp than the pigsty for prisoners to be kept. The least she could do was ensure they weren’t hurt by playful children looking to cure their boredom. She had no doubt if the prisoners were to prove dangerous to the cause, Henri and Nate would show no mercy. Helene couldn’t decide where she stood on such matters, on one hand if these men were threatening the lives of everyone in the camp then they shouldn’t live, on the other hand, the thought of killing another human made her feel sick inside.
Helene’s eyes narrowed at the man’s words, changing her mind and deciding she could very well shoot him on the spot for his impertinence. Before she had time to respond, Henri had stepped into the conversation cutting the man’s words down with his own gilded ones. Helene smiled, subconsciously moving a little closer to Henri; she gazed at his side profile noting how handsome he looked when he was angered. She had missed him today, and was glad he was back before dark, although with the current turn of events, his mind would likely be elsewhere. His mind was often far away nowadays…thinking on Sacred Heart missions, where she would struggle to reach him.
Helene returned Nathaniels nod with a stony gaze, the pendent was still weighing heavily in the lining of her dress, a symbol of many things she wasn’t inclined to face. She needed to find the time to return it to Nathaniel, so she could emphasise her feelings about his attitude towards Vanessa. Helene frowned as Nathaniel whispered to Henri, her hands finding a place to rest upon her hips she stared questioningly at the two. She hated it -when they had been younger- when the two would whisper to each other in her presence. She always felt they were talking about her and even now those old childhood feelings crept back.
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[/b]Nate, Chauv, Gus, Henri words ![/b] 354 notes ![/b]Short but sweet? xD [/color][/div] this lovely template was made by Arro from Caution 2.0 and features lyrics belonging to the oh so amazing Joshua Radin. please leave all of this credit stuff in tact and leave a link for Miss Roro here if you are going to be using this anywhere. Thank you, loves! [/style][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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PAUL CHAUVELIN
French Government
Spymaster
Posts: 200
Joined: Jan 25, 2013 11:17:51 GMT -5
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Post by PAUL CHAUVELIN on Mar 17, 2013 1:50:31 GMT -5
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Paul-François [style=text-align: right]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 |
[/font][/size][/style] chauvelin Though he didn't bother to look at them, Chauvelin remained aware of the two male rebels. And, while he heard the second one's question, he didn't trouble to answer it. "Ah yes," he said instead, still talking directly to Helene and not taking his eyes from her. "And now we're not even human. That ought to make it easier for you."
Watching her, he noted with interest her expression as she observed the men whispered between themselves. She clearly felt she was being shut out, and not for the first time. He wouldn't be surprised -- women often were. Generally held as 'defective,' women weren't just effectively second-class citizens with no rights to own property or vote, many treated them as second-class humans, as well. They were expected to confine themselves to supporting and pleasing the men in their lives, not worrying their pretty little heads about anything else. There usually wasn't any malice involved, it was just how most men were raised, to genuinely believe it was 'for their own good.'
Chauvelin himself had been greatly influenced by Condorcet when he was young, and even counted himself honored to have once met the man during the first revolution. He'd also known and loved far too many smart, outspoken women in his life to mistake that he was seeing one now. Another thing he didn't mistake was that she was infatuated with the head jackass of the encampment, he could see it in the way she drew closer to him, as if he were a fire to warm her and keep away the wolves. That would make what the old spymaster was about to try more difficult, but not impossible.
The two rebel men wanted to send her away, but Chauvelin knew he and Gustave were much safer with her around, so it was in Paul's interest to provoke her into wanting to stay. "No place for you in fraternité, is there?" he asked almost off-handedly. "Just being exercised to constraint." It was another reference to Rousseau, who hadn't believed liberty or equality applied to the distaff side of the population, either. [/left] TAG -- Henri NOTES – None at present.lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANTmade by ANYA of caution 2.0 [/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT on Mar 17, 2013 11:41:28 GMT -5
Nathaniel's words about Helene irritated Henri slightly. Despite their strong friendship, there were moments when he resented his tendency to almost direct him about as regarded Helene. If both were present, it was difficult to feel that he was being entirely fair to either—and at times like this, it sometimes seemed almost intrusive. He knew Helene disliked them whispering in her presence, and he knew better than to assume she did not hear.
More irritating, however, was the prisoner's refusal to so much as acknowledge them. He was far more interested in Helene, and this scared him. He wanted to follow Nathaniel's advice and remove her from the situation—but he knew Helene well enough to know that she would only resent such a command and would, almost undoubtedly, return. Perhaps when they weren't there to protect her if something should go wrong. “We're both armed,” he whispered to Nathaniel, feeling somewhat hypocritical in that he knew it would irritate Helene. “If a situation arises, we can handle it.”
Despite the whisper, the steel of command was in his words. It would be easier if the three of them weren't all trying, essentially separately, to extract information from the man. This was the first bit of action they had seen in quite some time, and Henri felt that it was already beginning to reveal some of the weaknesses in their structure of command. Interrogating the prisoners should have fallen to someone as a task—whether that was him or Nathaniel did not particularly matter, but it should not have been both at once.
And they needed to build somewhere better to hold their prisoners. If they unchained either, he had no doubt that both would be quickly gone. An enclosure secure for pigs was not so secure for men.
He couldn't entirely prevent himself from blushing slightly when he looked up from the whisper and noticed Helene's gaze. She knew they were talking about her, and he couldn't pretend that they weren't. He looked quickly back toward the pigsty and the men inside. His irritation was growing.
“It would be greatly appreciated if you would refrain from attempting to turn the women of our camp against us,” he took a stern tone. It was strange; he wasn't used to issuing orders to men old enough to be his father or even grandfather—it was hard to determine the clerk's exact age.
His assertions unsettled him slightly nevertheless. At first the Sacred Heart had been men alone; now the camp held plenty of women, but Henri generally did not consider the women to fill the same role as the men. They were essential, but they were not the ones who would enter the struggle for a republic under arms.
He had scarcely considered what their role in the republic to come might be.
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Post by HELENE DE ROCHAMBEAU on Apr 22, 2013 15:17:00 GMT -5
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WE MUST ALL BE PREPARED TO DIE FOR WHATWE BELIEVE IN
Helene knew far too well that it was a man’s world; her strong opinions were often not accepted by the males around her. That’s what attracted her so much to Henri, he was not threatened by her words, he accepted them or challenged them and never made her feel as though she was not allowed to speak her mind. She admired that trait in him, and it angered her to see other people degrading him because of such a strength.
Helene shot a look of poison towards the captive; he had sensed a weakness and was acting upon it. A clever move but a mighty frustrating one for Helene, who was stood with both hands on her hips and a look of utter rage building upon her face. She was tired, which was causing her temper to be much shorter than usual. Her lack of sleep was due to the fear that was building inside her, she was terrified of the consequences of their dream. She had abandoned everything she knew, including her name ‘Lady Helene’ to follow a dream. It was a romantic idea, but there were times she wondered if they had been wrong. The only thing keeping her going was her complete faith in Henri, their ideas were right…they would win in the end.
‘I’ll solve everyone’s problem and remove myself from you presence’ she said tartly folding her arms and turning on the spot, she sent a hard glare to every single one of the men, before marching off to her tent. She wanted to cry, not from the words spoken, but from complete frustration at not being able to help, or be useful to the cause because of her gender. How she wished she could ride alongside Henri and Nate, they made such a strong trio that she was certain if she could fight the odds would be in their favour. Sadly, she had to remain content at helping from the side-lines.
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[/b]Nate, Chauv, Gus, Henri words ![/b] 354 notes ![/b]thought id get this thread completed? [/color][/div] this lovely template was made by Arro from Caution 2.0 and features lyrics belonging to the oh so amazing Joshua Radin. please leave all of this credit stuff in tact and leave a link for Miss Roro here if you are going to be using this anywhere. Thank you, loves! [/style][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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PAUL CHAUVELIN
French Government
Spymaster
Posts: 200
Joined: Jan 25, 2013 11:17:51 GMT -5
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Post by PAUL CHAUVELIN on Apr 29, 2013 17:32:57 GMT -5
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Paul-François [style=text-align: right]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 |
[/font][/size][/style] chauvelin A slight, sardonic lift to Chauvelin's eyebrows was the only warning. "It would be greatly appreciated," he replied to Henri, the sarcastic bite of his words only sharpened by his calm and cultured voice, "if you would refrain from insulting us." Bound hands and pigsty notwithstanding, the look he directed at the younger man was a mixture of amused scorn and subtle rebuke.
The other male rebel, the hotheaded younger one, had fallen silent, which was both good and bad. On the one hand, he had a strong tendency to speak before he thought, which would make him comparatively easy to provoke into giving away information. On the other, he seemed to be fairly high up in the rebel hierarchy, which meant his voice calling for their torture and execution carry some weight. the old spymaster would have to continue to balance those two factors, should the boy rejoin the conversation
Meanwhile, the girl moved away, but the Chauvelin could see from both her and the rebel leader's faces that his earlier words had struck home, albeit in different ways. She had clearly long been frustrated by her gender's disregarded status, whereas the man had just as clearly never even thought about it. He was thinking about it now, however belatedly, but it probably didn't matter. This group -- particularly the leader -- wasn't much longer for this world.
His point made, the old spymaster eased slightly off on the attack. His manner and voice as if the ropes and sty didn't exist, he said, "I am Paul Chauvelin. And you are?" He looked between the three inquiringly.
[/left] TAG -- Henri NOTES – None at present.lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANTmade by ANYA of caution 2.0 [/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by HENRI ROQUEFEUIL-BLANQUEFORT on May 6, 2013 21:05:01 GMT -5
Henri felt a stab of anguish when he saw Helene walk away, obviously hurt. He didn't like to see her that way; she might be physically protected from the prisoners when back at the tent, but it was obvious her feelings at least had been stung anyway. His gaze followed her as she retreated, and he promised himself that he would check on her as soon as the prisoners had been dealt with appropriately. He felt guilty about having to delay it even that long.
He looked back to the prisoners at the old man's words. Who does he think he is? Of course, they could stand to provide them with better quarters—but it was hardly unique to the Sacred Heart to keep their prisoners in less than ideal conditions. If anything, Henri prayed that it would make them so determined to get out that they would cooperate with him readily. The sarcasm in the man's voice told him that the plan wasn't working quite properly.
“I am the Vicomte Henri Roquefeuil-Blanquefort.” There was a vanity in his voice suited to his title, even if he usually tried to squash such sentiments in the name of the Republic. “The leader of this organization.” That, he suspected, this Chauvelin had already noticed. It irritated Henri, and he fingered the pistol at his belt in thought. If the man took it as a threat, Henri could not bring himself to care. Perhaps it would ease any later questioning if he considered him capable of being dangerous.
Belatedly, Henri realized that giving his real and full name to someone who was almost without doubt a government agent was foolish. He bit his lower lip, then forced himself to relax in an attempt to hide the nervous gesture. He willed himself not to blush at the recognition of his own foolishness. That sort of thing, he was certain, could only damage his status in this prisoner's eyes.
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PAUL CHAUVELIN
French Government
Spymaster
Posts: 200
Joined: Jan 25, 2013 11:17:51 GMT -5
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Post by PAUL CHAUVELIN on May 15, 2013 21:53:54 GMT -5
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Paul-François [style=text-align: right]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 |
[/font][/size][/style] chauvelin Chauvelin kept his expression blank as Henri not only answered the question, but did so with his full name and rank. Well, the old spymaster thought, I hadn't expected that. Then again, he wasn't exactly dealing with hardened professionals here, as the expressions of dismayed realization and embarrassment that chased each other across the rebel leader's face showed. He seemed very young in that moment, and Paul was unexpectedly -- and uncomfortably -- reminded of himself at around that age. It was a wonder that he'd made it into his twenties. Hell, sometimes Chauvelin marveled that any young men survived long enough to father children at all.
On the other hand, Henri's slip also made it far less likely that the Sacred Heart was going to let him go alive, so the old spymaster's moment of sympathy was rather short-lived.
"Your lordship," Paul said, inclining his head politely. "This might seem a rather odd … occupation for a man of your class." It was only odd, Chauvelin knew, if one knew little to nothing about the previous revolutions. They, like the one currently brewing, had been launched and led almost entirely by aristocrats and other bourgeoisie. The lower classes had provided the sheer force of numbers, and the canny would-be politician told them exactly what they wanted to hear, but they were foot soldiers and cannon fodder, not officers. The old spymaster was aware of that -- having been involved up to his eyeballs in both of them, he could hardly not be -- but he was interested to know if the Vicomte was. In the end, it didn't really matter one way or the other. Still, finding out was something to occupy his time and curiosity.
[/left] TAG -- Henri NOTES – None at present.lyrics from DARKNESS, DARKNESS by ROBERT PLANTmade by ANYA of caution 2.0 [/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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