Andre Courfeyrac (see_tholomyes) wrote in angellogs, @ 2013-11-17 16:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | charles darnay, courfeyrac |
Who: Courfeyrac, Charles, and Open
Where: A park
When: Current
What:Courfeyrac challenged Charles to a duel. It's apparently happening. Wanna come watch? stop them? Be apalled by the two guys with swords in old fashioned clothes?
Warnings: Implied violence for now. Cursing. Etc. It's a nineteenth century man trying to duel an eighteenth century one. Ah French nobility. Which Courfeyrac is actually lacking at the moment...
Perhaps it was not entirely rational, but very little of his life had been spent in full possession of rationality, everything considered. Courfeyrac had spotted a suspicious posting, had followed up on it, and now had a genuine enemy of the people to...something or other. He couldn't kill the man, and wouldn't have even if he'd been given the chance but he still had to teach him...something.
An aristocrat. From the time of the revolution. Who was here now, after so many crimes and abuses against the people of France themselves. Courfeyrac did not know the revolution in so many minute details as Enjolras, but he knew a damn lot, and enough to realize that a man condemned to guillotine at least deserved some sort of lesson for what he had done in that life, to keep him from doing it here. Never mind his own blue blood floating around there. He had cast it off long ago, so that was different(or he was a hypocrite, said the voice in his head that sounded like Combeferre) and he had, at least, to humiliate the man in public, perhaps draw some blood to...well it would make nothing right but he'd be satisfied for the moment all the same, he thought, as he prepared himself.
Never mind that he was still using a cane for balance. He'd found the kind that had a sword in it, like at home, and while it was not as good as the one he'd left behind...he still quite liked the feel of the new one and could manage, long enough, to show the man, Saint Evremonde, up a little, he was sure. It looked as if he hadn't touched a blade in YEARS.
Enjolras was at work again, some story that couldn't wait, and Combeferre confined to bed with another of his violent headaches, the kitten curled protectively around his head, so Courfeyrac was free enough to dress in his best, and though he didn't have a second, as was custom, he appeared at the appointed time, expression grave and very much determined to see this through.
"Do you have an apology?" He asked, noting Saint-Evremonde, who stood before him, looking bewildered by this still. "Or shall we proceed to matching blades?"
"This is..."Charles hesitated, shaking his head because the last thing he wanted to do was fight an injured, possibly quite mad boy from the internet, particularly when he knew his fencing was not up to par. "...You've broken much of the code duello, haven't you?"
"...Fuck Code Duello, I just want to see you pay." Courfeyrac muttered, drawing out his blade and attempting to lunge forward. Gentlemen's agreement be damned.