→ ( OPEN - you said I'm gonna buy this place and burn it down, )

[desequilibre]

WHO: Athos & you.
WHERE: De Chima.
WHEN: 27.03 and onward.
WHAT: Pull point plot. One aggressively angry not yet Musketeer ready to fight the world.
WARNINGS: Violence. Potential misogyny. Thoughts of semi-suicide?

❚❚❚❚❚ a.

[ Athos is drunk.

That is not new. He has been drunk for some number of days. Every cup he takes has burnt him on the way down, as though he is determined to imbibe liquid damnation for the sake of forgetting. He was never much of a drinker, there was no call for it, but now each time he looks into the murky depths of it he has to wonder what his loved ones would make of it.

He is drunk, and the only people who could care are dead.

The world tilts dangerously as he stumbles from the tavern, one hand reaching for the scraping support of a wall and the other grasping for his sword hilt. The man who pushed him is swearing, the words foreign and quick, telling him to leave and not return, and Athos merely shakes his head and pulls the weapon free. Long gone is his uniform and the variety of weapons a Musketeer has, because he does not even know they're his to own. It is just him. A drunk man with a sword and the ghost of a missing locket around his throat. ]

Would you like to say that again, Monsieur?

[ This is a terrible idea. He cannot hope to survive this. But maybe that is what he's vying for. ]

❚❚❚❚❚ b.

[ After being dumped unceremoniously at a farm he apparently lives in, Athos has no choice but to consider his fate. There is so much that makes him believe he has lost his mind - the clothing on the people, the strange metallic carriages, the knowledge that he survives this godawful pain to become someone to look up to.

The last thing is the worst and most awful to bear.

Thomas is dead because of him, and if Athos were braver he would do what he should to make some repentance for it. Why have a future when his younger brother does not? Why keep going when he made the mistake of trusting some viper? They will both have been buried now, and so far away from home the knowledge taints his breath like blood. He cannot bring himself to move from where he is stewing in the stables, his back to the wooden gate and a knee drawn up to his chest. From here he can see the sun setting over the treetops. It looks nothing like Pinon, and perhaps that is best.

And then there are footsteps to break him from his reverie, and he lifts his head with a sullen glare. ] What?

❚❚❚❚❚ c

[ Wildcard! Find him anywhere. The farm, the bars, the garrison. He's mean and he's posh, fight him. ]

Comments

B ah ha ha ha

[illuminescent]

[ She doesn't have any of the dogs with her today; she's quite alone, looking very practical in trousers, for once. She doesn't wear them often, for all that they're sensible, because she is comfortable enough in skirts, because she likes to be feminine when she can even though just as often she's climbing trees and getting mud on them.

She hadn't seen Athos this morning; sometimes she leaves so early for school, even though he asks her to wait for him. It's a sigh every time.

This, though.

She didn't really expect this. ]

Oh!

I had not known you were here.

oh nooooooo

[desequilibre]

[ Athos does not expect the young girl, but he has not expected most of today. For a long moment he stares at her like he's not quite sure what he's seeing -

( A girl in trousers! )

- before his gaze skitters away in a disquieted way.

Perhaps he is meant to know her. Perhaps he is too tired to care. ] I am sorry if I surprised you. [ Athos has not shaved in days, but if she looks close enough she might be able to see the difference. He does not have quite so many lines on his face yet. Those will come with five years of grief and fighting and drinking. For now he still looks quite young, if a little lost. ] I shall leave.

[ And go where? This is where he should be. He should know this place. ]

[illuminescent]

Why should you leave? Are you well enough?

[She looks over at him. How queer. He looks more tired than usual, a bit soaked through, but not entirely. Some days are worse than others for him, she knows. She thinks of the bottle of wine that he keeps in here, where he thinks she doesn't know about it.]

I had thought to come find you earlier. I apologize for having left without you this morning.

check yo texts

[desequilibre]

[ He is dying.

He feels it, the slow poison that comes from what remains of his heart, leaking into every inch of him. It would be better were he to be put out of his misery. Athos' eyes close, his head lolling back against the stable door. ]

Why? Were we to go somewhere? [ Perhaps he should ask her who she is. It might be kinder. She seems to know him - or to know the person she expects him to be. ]

[illuminescent]

You always do fuss when I go about alone.

[She does it often enough, even though she knows she shouldn't. But she feels safe here, she feels like no one would really hurt her, would they?]

Perhaps I should find you some water.

a

[oceanthief]

[he won't get his wish at this very moment, at least. Lapis goes where she pleases and seems to be completely isolated from the world, but she does see everything happening around her. as she passes the bar (without any knowledge of its purpose) she understands two things about the scene before her: she's spoken with this man before, and he's going to lose this fight badly with the current state that he's in.

she doesn't move from her place on the sidewalk, but Lapis acts all the same. a fire hydrant shakes and shudders across the street before its water spews out of it - the liquid snakes its way over frighteningly fast, making to wrap around Athos' ankles and send him to the ground.

there was certainly a kinder way to intervene, but Lapis isn't quite used to altruism; she still relies on the most direct route.]

[desequilibre]

[ He falls hard and fast, slamming into the pavement without being able to get his hands underneath him to stop it. The man he had been intent on fighting barks out a sharp laugh, but Athos can only groan and try to get back on his feet again.

He is oddly determined.

Also drunk enough that he doesn't quite know what's happening. ] You think this is amusing? [ It's a snarl, Athos sounding like he believes himself better than the situation despite the fact that he's the one causing it. ]

[oceanthief]

[he'll find it difficult to continue engaging - the water will let him stand again, but it's formed quite visible chains around his ankles. unless the other guy is stupid enough to step forward further and escalate this fight, it won't be going anywhere.]

Is it supposed to be?

[Lapis really doesn't know if he's speaking to her, but she figures it can't hurt to ask anyway. she doesn't know much about this kind of stuff on earth.]

[desequilibre]

[ The other man is not stupid, nor is he paid enough to deal with Athos and his drunken rage. Once he sees it is on hand to be dealt with by somebody else, he reaches back into the tavern for a cloak. It gets tossed into the street with a sneer. Athos bristles, struggling against the invisible chains for a long moment before the door closes in his face.

Then, and only then, does he turn to the woman's voice.

His reaction is instinctive and full of horror, wide eyed, his grip tightening on the weapon at his side before his free hand passes over his brow, pushing sweaty hair from it. What anger he had felt is replaced by fear. He must have managed it, must have drank himself into such a stupor that he now sees unholy things.

His head drops back, hollow gaze directed upwards. ] Have I not suffered enough?

[oceanthief]

[Lapis' gaze follows his, looking up with a sort of flat expectancy as she waits for something to rain down from the heavens. that was why he was staring there, wasn't he? he must have called for assistance.

but nothing happens, and so she tilts her head to fix him squarely with a puzzled look. every time she thinks that she's got humanity figured out, they throw another wrench into the works.]

How should I know?

a

[whathawksdo]

[ Okay. Okay, so. This is far worse than Hawke's ever seen the poor man, that deep in his cups, that he's actually going to start picking fights. Of course, if she knew better, she might have chosen a better way to interrupt, but-- ]

Oh, I bet that he would most certainly not! [ Undaunted by the sword Athos is waving about, he's about to find a short-haired woman -- who's swapped back to her preferred red tank top and blue jeans as the world creeps back towards warmer times -- throwing an arm around his shoulders. On the side were he is not holding a naked blade, of course. ] Sorry, don't mind him. He's always this surly, perfectly harmless.

[ Waving a sword about, perfectly harmless, sure, sure. ]

But really, maybe you lot should just go. Go on. Shoo.

[desequilibre]

[ For a moment he thinks he is seeing things.

This drunk all he notices is the length of her hair and the miles of bare skin she has on show. There would not be a girl or woman in France who would allow themselves to be seen like this, especially in front of a stranger. The anachronism startles him into pausing long enough for her to sling an arm over his shoulder and then he is frozen to the spot. No woman besides Anne and Catherine have ever been so informal with him, and he finds that now, after everything he knows, that it repulses him.

Athos all but throws her off, his stumbling feet putting his back to the wall between the two bodies in the alleyway. ] Do not touch me.

[ His voice is a snarl, the tip of his sword shaking. ] I would not like to hurt a woman, Madame, but come near me again and you will find the night is made of things I do not like.

[whathawksdo]

Or... you could really be drunk enough to forget who I am. I suppose that's a thing. [ She takes being nearly thrown off with ease, less stumbling away than she does take a hop back and rebalance herself. ] Athos, it's me. Hawke? Marian Hawke? I help you with your Musketeers sometimes? We both really love dogs? Ringing any b--

[ Of course Cantankerous Drunk #2 from before decides to try and intervene at that point, cutting her off when he raises a fuss over "this asshole pointing swords at ladies, what the fuck does he think he's" and that's about as far as he gets before Hawke flicks a hand towards him and he just... freezes, suddenly trapped in an eerie light. ]

Yes, yes, hold that thought. Okay, assuming you really don't remember me, I will warn you. [ She nods down towards the wavering blade tip. ] That? You wouldn't be able to hurt me with that even if you were sober, so you may as well put it away.

[desequilibre]

[ Whatever words he might have directed Hawke's way are forgotten when his earlier opponent turns into the living impression of a statue. Athos' blue eyes stare at him in horror, his shoulders heaving in shock and fear. ]

And leave myself unarmed against a witch?

[ His usually so calm tone has risen with surprising hysteria. That is a new feeling to go along with his new drunken persona, his new rage. ] I do not care how you think you know me, but clearly you do not. [ His shoulders straighten and with effort he stops leaning against the wall. ] But I will not stand here and be insulted.

[whathawksdo]

Huh. It's been awhile since I've been called a witch. [ But not the first time, so she won't bother taking offense. ] It's not an insult if it's true, Athos. What are you going to do? Stab magic away?

[ As for the earlier opponent, she lets the spell wear off and he moves again with a lurch, eyes wild with fear now that he's free. Hawke just jerks a thumb towards the alley's exit. ]

You, leave.

[ And this time, he's all too happy to listen to her advice, which leaves her and Athos. ]

b

[regenereight]

[ It's less of footsteps and more of just a THUMP that's broken Athos's reverie. Said thump is courtesy of the Doctor who's following the breadcrumbs his older self left. A mention of working with the Musketeers, a scrap of paper with an address hastily scribbled on it, a name here or there, plus the strange feelings of familiarity every time the Doctor makes a connection have led him here, to this farm.

It's also led him up a tree. Though really, that's less of the trail of breadcrumbs and more of "oh wow, that tree is AWESOME for climbing!" The thump is the Doctor casually tossing a pinecone, to see how far it goes....before it connects with the gate only a few feet from Athos.

So congrats Athos, you've got a way-too-chipper Time Lord, wearing clothes that on a good day can pass for Edwardian just sitting up in the closest tree to his sulk-point. ] What what?

[ That's not a response. So, the Doctor pauses and then continues with ] By the way, is this your farm? It's a lovely place.

[desequilibre]

[ He is not in the mood for tomfoolery.

He is not in the mood for many things, it would seem. Athos just lets his hollow and sunken gaze rise to the man in the tree. He looks like an idiot. ]

No.

[ Well, it might be. Apparently he lives here. He has no recollection. Home for him is La Fére and he can never, ever go back. So he supposes he has no home. ] I believe a young woman owns it. [ Please find her. ]

[regenereight]

[ "He looks like an idiot" well Athos isn't wrong. The Doctor's still in the tree but he scurries down to a branch closer to the ground, but still large enough to hold his weight. He sits on the branch and looks down at Athos, giving the man a gentle smile all the while. ]

Wonderful! You wouldn't happen to know her name, would you?

[desequilibre]

[ He has been long past the age for tree climbing, and by the looks of it, so has this man. But he doesn't seem to care and Athos is too self-involved currently to wonder why someone old enough to have one would instead act like a child. ]

Lucy.

[ It's automatic, and then he blinks as if inexplicably cut short. How does he know that? ]

Or so I believe. [ His voice is a little unsteady, a little more concerned than it should be. ]

[regenereight]

Oh, she's lovely! [ the Doctor says, with a grin, just without thinking about it. And, as such, that without thinking about it takes him by surprise. How does he know that in the first place. ]

At least, I think she's lovely. [ He dangles from the branch by his hands for a moment before jumping down to the ground and plop, settling himself right next to Athos, sorry bud, he's not taking no for an answer. ]

Tell me, has your memory been a little bit off lately as well?

a!

[earnedmystripes]

[Kotetsu still isn't sure what to make of this whole, "alternate earth" thing, and he's really not sure if it's really true that he's not going to miss his wife having their baby, but there's little he can unfortunately do about things, from the sound of it--and there's a strange feeling of familiarity about the whole thing that makes him more inclined to trust than doubt, though he couldn't say why if asked.

He probably should've changed out of his Wild Tiger costume before going exploring in the other cities, but it also makes for a nice security blanket of sorts; helping protect people as Wild Tiger is a lot less complicated to explain than as Kotetsu Kaburagi, totally average civilian, and he's not yet too experienced with this secret identity thing.

He stumbles across the bar fight entirely by accident; getting drunk is ironically the furthest thing from his mind, and the sword (seriously??? people actually for real still used those?) has him jumping into action, putting himself between the combatants, arms spread out as if to physically separate them.]

Nnnnnoooo, no no, nobody wants to say anything again, right??

[GIVING THE OTHER DRUNK A LOOK LIKE RIGHT? He doesn't cut a particularly intimidating figure in his goofy spandex and cape with his goofy cat beard, of course, but that will probably change if anyone has the bright idea to try to put those sharp pointy things in him.]

C'mon now, let's just all, uh, cool it, yeah? M'sure you guys can work this out without a need for any stabbings.

[desequilibre]

[ There is always a need for stabbing, Kotetsu.

But Athos is startled enough by his appearance that he pauses, the sword going lax in his grip. ] And what are you supposed to be? Some kind of jester?

[ Paris in the 1600s does not have costumed superheros. And even if Athos had his memories of this place, he's avoided most of the pomp and circumstance of masked men. A cloak and a big hat are all a man needs to go unnoticed.

He doesn't see his earlier enemy start slinking back to the bar. He'll be pissed about that in a minute or two. ]

[earnedmystripes]

Wha--this is my hero suit!!

[He gets huffy immediately, hands placed on his hips. But at least the guy isn't waving that sword around at anyone anymore, that's a small victory.]

[desequilibre]

You are a hero?

[ The actual level of disbelief in his voice is amazing considering how soaked in brandy it is. ]

Monsieur, they look nothing like that. I would perhaps speak with your tailor.

[earnedmystripes]

Shut up, my suit is totally cool!

[Kotetsu are you really gonna argue about the aesthetic value of your suit with a drunk man. Are you really.]