forum Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Started December 04, 2018 by @KalamariCakes

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When all the military folk are there?)

Rly good! I got a new plant, named him Chad )

Louis could see how the weather had left it's mark on the towering barn—and Marius's sad inability to fix any of it. It seemed the only thing the farmer could do was hammer a nail, which explained the crowds of rusted nails struggling to cling one plank to its rotting neighbor. Once inside, Marius made a bee-line for the ladder, and climbed it to the second floor where he stored drying herbs and hay.

Nice 😊)

Louis chewed on his lower lip, a thoughtful expression onbid features as he looked around. “How old is this?”

John sat down at the table, "It's very good to have all of you here. An absolute honor," he spoke with flashy smiles—Jane recognized this as his charming tactic. Bright smiles and candid words.
"Likewise, Mr. André!" Clinton chortled. The jovial general made the other men at the table chuckle lightheartedly. "And your wife, ah! Ever the jewel. And the cuisine is exquisite," he complimented her.
John flashed his wife a warm smile, peppered with excitement.

Rly good! I got a new plant, named him Chad )

Louis could see how the weather had left it's mark on the towering barn—and Marius's sad inability to fix any of it. It seemed the only thing the farmer could do was hammer a nail, which explained the crowds of rusted nails struggling to cling one plank to its rotting neighbor. Once inside, Marius made a bee-line for the ladder, and climbed it to the second floor where he stored drying herbs and hay.

Nice 😊)

Louis chewed on his lower lip, a thoughtful expression onbid features as he looked around. “How old is this?”

"Older than me," Marius answered candidly from the upper level. The level was simply a wide walkway framing the walls of the barn, and a fence to keep whomever walked ontop from falling down. It seemed a nice place to sit and dangle your feet, a nice place to hide away on a hot day.
Marius clambered down the ladder with a satchel-full of dry rosemary. "Why do you ask?"

Jane smiled cordially, but she didn't blush. Only her husband had the power to make her do that. "Thank you, sir," she said lightheartedly. "John and I are incredibly humbled that you have all graced us with your presence. As he said, it is an absolute honor."

“It seems a bit.. worn,” he answered carefully. “If there was a storm, you could be endangered.”

The General nodded, and sipped his brandy.

A man across the table from Clinton—a man with a hooked nose and intimidating blue eyes, Captain Simcoe—spoke. His tone had a strange noise to it; the vocal equivalent of having cold ink drained down your ear. "It is. It is an honor to be invited," he spoke, he sounded insincere. Somehow, though, the other officials paid no mind at all.

“It seems a bit.. worn,” he answered carefully. “If there was a storm, you could be endangered.”

"Yeah," Marius sighed with a note of defeat. "I wasn't born much of a carpenter," he laughed jovially.

The General nodded, and sipped his brandy.

A man across the table from Clinton—a man with a hooked nose and intimidating blue eyes, Captain Simcoe—spoke. His tone had a strange noise to it; the vocal equivalent of having cold ink drained down your ear. "It is. It is an honor to be invited," he spoke, he sounded insincere. Somehow, though, the other officials paid no mind at all.

Jane grasped her hands tightly together to cover the shiver that crawled down her spine at his words. The captain certainly gave her an uneasy feeling inside.

Peter, who sat across from Jane, raised his glass. "To the brave Lieutenant André!"

“It seems a bit.. worn,” he answered carefully. “If there was a storm, you could be endangered.”

"Yeah," Marius sighed with a note of defeat. "I wasn't born much of a carpenter," he laughed jovially.

“I… could fix it,” he offered slowly.

The General nodded, and sipped his brandy.

A man across the table from Clinton—a man with a hooked nose and intimidating blue eyes, Captain Simcoe—spoke. His tone had a strange noise to it; the vocal equivalent of having cold ink drained down your ear. "It is. It is an honor to be invited," he spoke, he sounded insincere. Somehow, though, the other officials paid no mind at all.

Jane grasped her hands tightly together to cover the shiver that crawled down her spine at his words. The captain certainly gave her an uneasy feeling inside.

Peter, who sat across from Jane, raised his glass. "To the brave Lieutenant André!"

John's face crept with a blush. A smile broke his tight lips as the other men joined—Captain Simcoe more reluctantly— "Thank you…" John laughed softly.

“It seems a bit.. worn,” he answered carefully. “If there was a storm, you could be endangered.”

"Yeah," Marius sighed with a note of defeat. "I wasn't born much of a carpenter," he laughed jovially.

“I… could fix it,” he offered slowly.

Marius blinked. "That's a lot of work your offering to do," he pointed out.

Jane smiled warmly at Peter, then looked at John, her eyes telling him to continue.

Lionel shrugged. “Anything to get out of the house. And I could teach you, for the future.”

Jane smiled warmly at Peter, then looked at John, her eyes telling him to continue.

John cleared his throat, and stood, "Thank you all for attending. The military has brought so much insight and has.. enlightened me in so man ways." He laughed. "I remember when Clinton taught me how to load a rifle,"

Clinton laughed, "Oh, boy, I remember when you couldn't buckle a shoe properly," he spoke in a fatherly manner. It made John warm up at the familial atmosphere.

John raised his glass, "To the King. God bless him,"

Lionel shrugged. “Anything to get out of the house. And I could teach you, for the future.”

"I'd love that," he accepted cordially, handing him the satchel.

Lionel accepted the satchel, giving a small smile. “Alright.”

Jane smiled warmly at Peter, then looked at John, her eyes telling him to continue.

John cleared his throat, and stood, "Thank you all for attending. The military has brought so much insight and has.. enlightened me in so man ways." He laughed. "I remember when Clinton taught me how to load a rifle,"

Clinton laughed, "Oh, boy, I remember when you couldn't buckle a shoe properly," he spoke in a fatherly manner. It made John warm up at the familial atmosphere.

John raised his glass, "To the King. God bless him,"

Glasses raised around the table. "God bless the King," echoed around the room.

Lionel accepted the satchel, giving a small smile. “Alright.”

"Ready to feed the lambs?" Marius asked with a smile.

Jane smiled warmly at Peter, then looked at John, her eyes telling him to continue.

John cleared his throat, and stood, "Thank you all for attending. The military has brought so much insight and has.. enlightened me in so man ways." He laughed. "I remember when Clinton taught me how to load a rifle,"

Clinton laughed, "Oh, boy, I remember when you couldn't buckle a shoe properly," he spoke in a fatherly manner. It made John warm up at the familial atmosphere.

John raised his glass, "To the King. God bless him,"

Glasses raised around the table. "God bless the King," echoed around the room.

John sat down, and tipped his glass back to drink.

Jane smiled warmly at Peter, then looked at John, her eyes telling him to continue.

John cleared his throat, and stood, "Thank you all for attending. The military has brought so much insight and has.. enlightened me in so man ways." He laughed. "I remember when Clinton taught me how to load a rifle,"

Clinton laughed, "Oh, boy, I remember when you couldn't buckle a shoe properly," he spoke in a fatherly manner. It made John warm up at the familial atmosphere.

John raised his glass, "To the King. God bless him,"

Glasses raised around the table. "God bless the King," echoed around the room.

John sat down, and tipped his glass back to drink.

Jane didn't drink the same liquid as the men. She'd poured herself water, and she touched her stomach gently, thinking of Roo.

"Tell me," Captain Simcoe spoke, "How far in is your wife?"

"Couple months," John replied, a proud glint shining in his eyes. "We're already thinking of names,"

"A boy, I hope, for his father to turn into a fine soldier someday?" Clinton chortled, wiping a napkin over his lips.

Reluctance flickered across his face. "I'm hoping to indulge my child in the humanities. Painting, poetry… if I'm influential quite enough, lawyership, maybe," John wished.

Jane put her hand on top of John's and smiled reassuringly. "Yes. Of course, nothing against you, General," she remarked with a polite smile.

"Not at all," Clinton replied good-naturedly.

Captain Simcoe spoke up, "A shame he will not be shaped into a brave man, then." He sipped his drink, "As his father. Of course," every word from his mouth tasted like a threat.