A man sits alone in his crowded study...
A single candle provides barely sufficient light. Jean de Croÿ stares at papers strewn across his desk. A scowl seems permanently etched onto his face. It varies in intensity as Jean picks through the documents but never completely vanishes. Blackboards on rickety stands line the walls. The flickering light shows that they are covered in all manner of names and lines. Prominent on the boards are the words Beauffort, London, HM, Republicans, and Socialists. Stacks of roughly bound books litter the floor while the bookcases lie empty. Jean jumps at the sound of a knock on the door.
I told you, I'm not having any visitors tonight!
Just me sir, no visitors.
What do you want.
Ah, nothing sir. I was just concerned that you haven't eaten yet.
What is the time Damien?
Midnight sir.
Surely not!
It is. You've been in here for hours sir. You've missed the evening papers and the latest messenger with news from the Parliament.
Jean pulls his hands down his face, stands, and turns to Damien. Have you read any of it Damien?
Of course sir.
Anything of interest that cannot wait until morning?
Van Der Brucke has issued another proclamation.
What did the Good Baron have to say this time?
Damien clears his throat. Through social reforms we can finally put an end to the Jacobin madness of Democracy and Constitutionalism... <beat> We must denounce the political reforms of the past and embrace these new social reforms.
Panem et circenses. Van Der Brucke thinks he can win over the people by supporting this Beauffortist angle. Jean shakes his head. Am I doomed to lead the only truly Reactionary force in the nation? He sighs. I should have escaped to London when I had the chance. But no, I stayed. This has all gone bad Damien. I'll be thrown out by our benefactors if I join the other parties in supporting these reforms. I had a letter from one this morning. Appeasement he called it, along with a veiled warning about what straying from the path would lead to.
And sticking to your position is bad?
Of course it is. I don't think the Traditionalists have the numbers to stop the tide. We'll be washed aside by the Beauffortists and the Vanderbruckists. All my work will be for nothing. We could hope that Perfidious Albion acts on its promises to Poisson and the rest of the Right end up being hung like the traitors they are.
Guillotined sir.
Jean raises an eyebrow. What? Oh, right. If heads roll then hopefully there'll be no one left to run the Right. That assumes too that they don't take the opportunity to clean-up and brand me a traitor. And if it all plays out well and I end up on top then the combined Right will be barely stronger than the Traditionalists are now. I'll be reduced to playing the villain in their glorious republican paradise.
Damian eyes focus then widen. Uhhh, sir?
What is the matter Damian?
Your eye is doing that thing again.
Goddamnit. Jean puts a hand up to cover and hold his twitching eye. I suppose I had better stop work for tonight then. What can be prepared for supper?
Cold cuts sir.
Again?
If you stopped working so late then there would be time to make something hot.
There is just too much to do. Well, we had better eat then.
Jean and Damien leave the room. The lone candle continues to cast malevolent shadows across the room until it finally burns out and dies.
((Remember folks, this is for fun and narrative. Unless you have spies in de Croÿ's house, you won't know this IC.))
I told you, I'm not having any visitors tonight!
Just me sir, no visitors.
What do you want.
Ah, nothing sir. I was just concerned that you haven't eaten yet.
What is the time Damien?
Midnight sir.
Surely not!
It is. You've been in here for hours sir. You've missed the evening papers and the latest messenger with news from the Parliament.
Jean pulls his hands down his face, stands, and turns to Damien. Have you read any of it Damien?
Of course sir.
Anything of interest that cannot wait until morning?
Van Der Brucke has issued another proclamation.
What did the Good Baron have to say this time?
Damien clears his throat. Through social reforms we can finally put an end to the Jacobin madness of Democracy and Constitutionalism... <beat> We must denounce the political reforms of the past and embrace these new social reforms.
Panem et circenses. Van Der Brucke thinks he can win over the people by supporting this Beauffortist angle. Jean shakes his head. Am I doomed to lead the only truly Reactionary force in the nation? He sighs. I should have escaped to London when I had the chance. But no, I stayed. This has all gone bad Damien. I'll be thrown out by our benefactors if I join the other parties in supporting these reforms. I had a letter from one this morning. Appeasement he called it, along with a veiled warning about what straying from the path would lead to.
And sticking to your position is bad?
Of course it is. I don't think the Traditionalists have the numbers to stop the tide. We'll be washed aside by the Beauffortists and the Vanderbruckists. All my work will be for nothing. We could hope that Perfidious Albion acts on its promises to Poisson and the rest of the Right end up being hung like the traitors they are.
Guillotined sir.
Jean raises an eyebrow. What? Oh, right. If heads roll then hopefully there'll be no one left to run the Right. That assumes too that they don't take the opportunity to clean-up and brand me a traitor. And if it all plays out well and I end up on top then the combined Right will be barely stronger than the Traditionalists are now. I'll be reduced to playing the villain in their glorious republican paradise.
Damian eyes focus then widen. Uhhh, sir?
What is the matter Damian?
Your eye is doing that thing again.
Goddamnit. Jean puts a hand up to cover and hold his twitching eye. I suppose I had better stop work for tonight then. What can be prepared for supper?
Cold cuts sir.
Again?
If you stopped working so late then there would be time to make something hot.
There is just too much to do. Well, we had better eat then.
Jean and Damien leave the room. The lone candle continues to cast malevolent shadows across the room until it finally burns out and dies.
((Remember folks, this is for fun and narrative. Unless you have spies in de Croÿ's house, you won't know this IC.))