May. 10th, 2016

Not again

May. 10th, 2016 05:31 pm
praiseandglory: (angry bordering on murderous)
[personal profile] praiseandglory
When Porthos stepped into their tent and found himself in a strange, yet familiar hallway, he knew exactly where he was. On either side of the hallway were doors - to rooms, suites, and many more strange places beside. The noises of the camp were gone, but the smell remained, on him, of gunpowder and blood, soot and grime. His usually elegant clothes had seen better days, his now longer hair was tied back and mostly hidden under a kerchief that might have once been white. His pistol was empty and he needed to clean his sword - Treville's sword.

The battlefield was now miles and years away, for all that it was also, somehow, right on the other side of a door. And, in his current mood, that made his blood boil as surely as Spanish insults.

"Not again!" he yelled, and punched the nearest wall with a gloved hand. He winced at the pain, but there was a dent in the wall now, and that felt slightly better.

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