1 - What do you do with a drunken swordsman? {audio & action}

[thestormcomes]

Hm.

[A fairly tall man, pewter wine cup clutched in one hand as if to make a toast, is standing at the end of the pier. He glances curiously over one shoulder towards the sea, frowns, and looks back up to the shore. Stooping to pick up a small, polished-brass box of sorts, he begins to walk

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(ﾉ✧◡✧)ﾉ *:･ﾟ'✿,｡･:*:･ﾟ'❁audio

[airshipswank]

[ Oh. Oh my. Here Lord Buckingham was, just about to come to terms with the fact that his revenge on France will have to wait until he returns home when... when he finds that perhaps he won't have to wait so long after all!

For a while he listens to Athos going about his business. Then he lazily taps a few buttons (my, look at him getting the hang of this trinket) and announces cheerfully: ]

Well, well, well, Athos. If that isn't a wonderful surprise. Bienvenue!

[airshipswank]

[ Buckingham spends the silence taking a long sip of fine. It tastes impossibly delicious. ]

Lie? Nothing could be further from it, I assure you. No. No, quite the contrary, I believe... I believe you deserve the truth.

[thestormcomes]

[He has every reason (and more) to doubt Buckingham's word, but here? Where there's no point to lying? No war to start, no fight to be held, no battle to be won.

What Athos asks next comes out not so much resembling a word as it does a growl.]

How?

[airshipswank]

Oh, I found myself wondering the same thing. How is it that he has her trapped at last... entirely at his mercy and yet...

[ ~ Cue pause for effect ~ ]

And yet she lives. Perhaps you care to answer that for yourself.

[thestormcomes]

[Aiming at her head - because her heart was no longer his to take - and seconds away from pulling a trigger, he had faltered. One last mistake, he told himself, being the chink in his armor. He could never be the man to take her life.

And she knew that.]

She jumped,

[he replies dully, possessing too much pride to simply switch off the device and carry on alone. Athos won't give Buckingham the satisfaction.]

Lucky you.

[airshipswank]

[ Ah, but Buckingham already seized the satisfaction and took it roughly on his ridiculously fancy bed. ]

Lucky me,

[ he repeats with a chuckle and a tone just a little something short of agreement before proposing what is so clearly nothing but a casual subject change. ]

In case you're wondering, I have had some time to sample the wines they offer here. Excellent quality and remarkably inexpensive. Lucky you...

[thestormcomes]

I hope that isn't an invitation.

[Athos muses idly, staring up at the "mansion." Ten floors, unlimited rooms, and he gets one all to himself?

The lack of rent is going to be quite pleasant, indeed.]

[airshipswank]

[ Like a masterful painting of mocking sounds Buckingham's laugh begins as a sympathetic response, slowly gains condescending undertones and ends with a vividly derisive finish. ]

I wouldn't dare intrude on the intimate moment between you, your wine and all your sorrows.

[thestormcomes]

[Athos has plans for drinking. Later. Not now, when he needs to select a residence and get acquainted with the area. Not now, when he's walking into a massive foyer and the flanking halls are long and dimly-lit.

He therefore doesn't take much offense to the implication that all he does is drink, because for a while, it was true.]

I take it you find the company here rather lacking.

[Why else would he bother with Athos?]

[airshipswank]

[ Some of it gets to Buckingham. The diminished worth of his title, most of all. No word about that. But the rest? No need to deny it. ]

I find the lot of them lacking class, manners and style, although they do have a certain... a, how do you put it? Exotic charm.

...Of course you would already know, Comte Olivier d'Athos de la Fère. Such a noble ring to that. I cannot fathom how it failed to impress.

[thestormcomes]

Je ne sais quoi?

[He tries not to smirk. Emphasis on "tries." The expression falls short when he realizes that Buckingham heard every single conversation through the device in his hand.]

...The youths of the future have reprehensible senses of etiquette.

[It's all Athos can manage to say while inwardly cursing Heaven and Hell alike, because while the girl very likely will not recall his title-by-blood, Buckingham will.

And probably won't forget it.

Athos also has the tendency to fall silent and think, my Lord, which is what he's doing right now - so you may have to prod him again to continue.]

[airshipswank]

[ Why, whatever gave Athos that idea? It's an interesting little nugget of trivia, certainly, but there is hardly a reason to dwell on it or, Heaven forbid, rub it in should the duke sense that it was an unwelcome addition. ]

Not just the youths, my Lord.

[ ...Oh, wait. The other thing. ]

Uncivilised, violent men. Why, just until yesterday they held an event, just to kill each other for sport. Can you imagine?

[ ...how badly I wish you'd been there? ]

[thestormcomes]

[Athos twitches a little at the title. There was, after all, a reason he left it behind in favor of serving the Musketeers in Paris. He still visits La Fère from time to time, when he can, but always discreetly. Aramis and Porthos know and they've never given him grief for it.

Buckingham is a different story entirely.

There are far more important and relevant queries to be made, at any rate, particularly if the residents are as bloodthirsty as Rochefort.]

Killing for sport?

[One hand rests on the hilt of his sword - a precautionary measure - and Athos moves down the hallway to his right.]

It sounds like your forté.

[A mock gasp of surprise.]

Ah, wait. I'm sorry, I mistook you for someone with a spine. I almost forgot about your proclivity to subterfuge.

[airshipswank]

[ Defeat does not become the duke, no matter how minor it may be. It's some comfort however, that Athos will not see the grimace that bears witness to his verbal victory. This time. ]

Strategy, [ Buckingham corrects sharply before finding the way back on his feet. ]

The ship you and your friends took, the walls you destroyed... it takes but time to rebuild them. Other things however are... not so easily recovered, aren't they?

[thestormcomes]

Cheating.

[Athos corrects him in return, climbing the staircases.]

And for all evils there are two remedies: time, and silence.

[Bitterness is not a very becoming trait, but Athos has no one to impress here, and when stated in such a light-hearted tone, one might think his words non-referential - even conversational.

The poisoning those many months ago ran deeper than the literal sense of the term.

Turning sharply up another set of stairs, Athos pauses on the seventh floor. He's been walking for so long he almost forgot to stop. Here. Here will do.]

We appear to have plenty of the former, here, but with you around, the latter seems unlikely.

[airshipswank]

[ Either way, he wins. There's enough comfort in that. For the moment. ]

Ahh, I see. So much to do, so little-- ...appreciation for company.

[ Cue the apologetic sigh. ]

But my welcome has been said now and I trust you would rather be left to your own devices.

[ Alone. All. Alone. Forever.

Is it possible to hear a mock bow through those things? That would be a lovely feature. ]

My Lord.