Dannati Francesi [June 1806/Calabria/Public]

Subject: Dannati Francesi [June 1806/Calabria/Public] Sun Feb 06, 2011 10:25 pm

((OKAY, SINCE NO ONE IS BEING COCKBLOCKED AS OF NOW, I GUESS I'LL TAKE A SWING AT THIS... I'm always so nervous I'm going to mess up or have my thread run over. xD))

The sickening sound of a man, dropped from his scaffold to his death, held only by a rope bound around his neck. He remained, dangling there, his jaw wide open and vacancy being the only visible expression in his eyes. He was dead. One woman in a crowd of many cried out, rushing past people to her husband, but was stopped by French officers, both of them staring down at her. She backed up, tears in her eyes, afraid. With that, the woman fled, pushing her way through the crowd.

One woman she had knocked into was a sullen looking girl, about sixteen or seventeen, long brown hair bound in a bun, covered in dirt and wearing a simple deep V-neck dress. That girl, was Ilaria Mancini. The suppressed Italian region that could do nothing about this entire situation. The last resistance effort had failed, in fact, backfired, as conditions had worsened after which. Pointless brutal executions, either by hanging, guillotine or something else creative. Women, abused, either sexually or not. Increasing taxes.

She hated them. Bourbons weren't much better, but they weren't this.

Ilaria turned around, pushing her way through the crowd, and elsewhere. She did not desire to see the man's dangling body for much longer. It hurt to see these things happening to her people.

Why didn't anyone else care to help her when she needed it? She wanted another uprising, but she knew they couldn't do that with the lack of material they had. No support to speak of either. It seemed pretty hopeless, but her hate for the French was what kept her going in her struggle. Ilaria sighed, rubbing her face for a bit, sitting under a large tree in the shade and away from the heat. For now, all she could do was tweedle her thumbs and wait.

First things first was to find a rifle....

(The campaign for Calabria began when an army of 50,000 soldiers entered Naples, under General Massena's command, and later on, Giuseppe Bonaparte, the Napoleonic army successfully pushing the Spanish Bourbons out of Calabria by the 20th of March, 1806. Now rule under the French was anything but pleasant. The French, at first, rather taken with the Calabrians, even quoting a letter written to Napoleon himself by his brother Giuseppe said this: "The more I advance in Calabria, the more I am satisfied with its inhabitants. I can do no better than compare them to the mountain people of Corsica. They grasp each novelty, are extremely passionate clerics, nobleman and commoners alike." But that didn't mean the Calabrians like them. On March 22nd, only two days after successfully conquering Calabria, a resident, Carmine Caligiuri, killed a French officer who had seduced his wife. He then fled to the country where he gathered a resistance group. Not much was done in the beginning, and this only worsened conditions.

The French began to increase taxes, have pointless brutal executions and abused the Calabrian women. The tension continued to increase. There was one time, when another army attempted to fight against the French. The Kingdom of Sicily ruled by the Bourbons at the time band together with the UK and attempted to reclaim Calabria, as well as keep the French out of Sicily. That would be the battle of Maida, taking place on July 4th, 1806. Even though it resulted in British victory, these forces too were pushed out of Calabria. Bummer.)

Posts : 34 Join date : 2011-02-05

Auguste was seemingly emotionless as he watched the execution. That didn't mean he was not disturbed. Napoleon brought order to France after years of living with that horrifying revolution. Auguste still hadn't recovered, though. He was supposed to look 19, now he could easily have been mistaken for 40. He lost weight, he didn't fill out Napoleon's uniform with the dignity he would have Louis XIV's. He had lost everything only a few years ago, it was impossible to just recover. It was amazing to Auguste that his head was still even properly attached to his body.

Like at home, the supporters of these other Bourbons were being persecuted. Auguste assisted in persecuting these people. He was French, proudly French, but he was also an adopted Bourbon. But today, he was loyal to France.

He was stationed to keep out trouble. There was the execution, and it was over without much trouble. The crowd dispersed, Auguste's job was done. He had permission to leave, he would leave- and maybe get some wine for this hot day. Unfortunately, he was new to the location. The French were obviously disliked, but it wouldn't hurt to ask a local. He was carrying a gun, after all, so he couldn't really have been harmed. He didn't want to be with his fellow Frenchmen. He'd risk going alone-

...Or just risk going without men. The women in this part of the country were not classy, but Auguste had been denied classy women for a few years, he was desperate. An Italian family was one of the families who raised him- he knew the benefits of this race.

Some girl was waiting- she was dirty and poor, young and not too attractive. He didn't have any effort to look for a better prostitute. She may have been waiting for another customer- but that customer could be ignored. Unless it was another French officer, she had to serve him.

“...” The tall Frenchman stared down at her, upon entering the comfort of her shade. She didn't notice him instantly.

“How much...?” He barked out. At least he was willing to pay.

Ilaria had just begun to pick at her fingers, seeing as the skin was peeling just a bit. It began to bleed a little when she picked a bit too much off.

"How much...?”

...And in the middle of such, she was interrupted. This voice had a slight... French accent. Oh no. Don't tell me one of those French Bastards has the balls to speak to me? Ilaria wondered. What did he mean by 'how much?' If it was for what she was thinking it was for, she'd manage to get herself arrested today.

"...Excuse me?" Ilaria said, lifting her head and staring at the man. He was tall, thin as hell, not very attractive either and not filling in his uniform.

How old was the guy? She didn't even know. But he was French. That was all she needed to know to hate him.

Posts : 34 Join date : 2011-02-05

"I asked, 'How much?', How much for your services?" He scoffed at her. What a stupid whore? What else could he even mean by 'How much?' Even though he obviously preferred to speak French, he had better Italian than most. Poor, prostitutes were always so rude. Shouldn't she be happy that he was buying? Shouldn't she be happy that he was even speaking in her language. This girl obviously had no idea how to treat her superiors- or her customers for that matter.

His face scrunched up, he was repulsed seeing her pick at her fingers like that. What kind of disgusting habit was that? Did she have a disease of sorts? He didn't want to catch it.

"I'm not the type to steal sexual services." His face kept that look of disgust, though it was less exaggerated than it was on his first glance at her fingers.

"I'm not sure where your brothel is- but I'd like to treat you for wine and some dinner beforehand. Actually, I'd rather do the deed at my place, it's much cleaner. All of this doesn't have to be part of your payment." He was a very generous man. He used to be able to have any woman in the world- but here he was, willing to actually pay for this pathetic creature. She must have been pleased.

Ilaria's jaw dropped. W-Was he.... saying she was a prostitute?! Her face went red with anger. How dare he! She may have been poor, but she would never go so low as to sell her own body. Hell, she was a goddamn virgin!

She blinked a few times, trying to hold back her anger just a bit. She actually didn't want to be arrested, and hopefully she wouldn't be arrested for yelling at him. That would've been just plain unreasonable. So she put her hands on her hips, stood up and looked straight at his face, making sure to make eye-contact.

"I. Am. Not. A. Prostitute." Ilaria practically spelled it out for him. "I don't care if you are a total gentlemen, I don't sell my body. I have some pride left mind you."

Perhaps it was because her dress went down so low on chest. But she didn't have much more to her name. No nice dresses either. Couldn't be helped. But Ilaria would not allow such an assumption about her.

"Even if I was, I care not for French pigs." she sneered.

Posts : 34 Join date : 2011-02-05

He only rolled his eyes at her response. Was she trying to intimidate him or something? Was she trying to act like she was at all his superior? A scoff, and he glared down at her. Even if she wasn't a prostitute, this was a serious oppurtunity for money. Any smart person would have taken it.

"You seemed like one. Most of the women here-" They were hardly even women. They weren't real women, like the women who used to parade his court and his gardens. "They're all so poor. Do you realize how much money I'm willing to pay you? I can move on, if you'd like, though. This place must have some real women somewhere. Or- someone like you, who's willing to have some sense, and treat me well."

A pause, he reached for the gun carried on him. He didn't plan to use it, he didn't even pull it off, he just had to make it's presence clear.

"Don't be disrespectful." An order. He had all the rights to order her around, the French were in charge.

Ilaria flinched when she saw the guy reach for his pistol. That was one thing she couldn't fight against. But she tried not to show she was only slightly afraid. Guns were intimidating, that's for sure.

Ilaria stood her ground though, only clenching her fists and gulping a bit.

"I don't want your money at all. Perhaps I'm not smart, but I desire not to go along with this bullshit. And those would accept such an offer would most likely not even be very good in bed. Just seething with hatred you see." she snickered at the thought. "Even the prostitutes don't like your kind, sir."

It was true. They'd all have to go back to France to get any good action of sorts. It'd have to be a considerable sum and a considerably stupid whore to get anything out of them.

"But I'm curious, just how desperate are you for sex? Just how much you're willing to pay, sir."

Posts : 34 Join date : 2011-02-05

He did swipe out his pistol this time. "Treat us with respect. It's an honour that the French would even visit this shithole. It's an honour that I'd be speaking your language to you. Treat me with respect."

Then aiming it at her, "Do you understand?" The pistol may have been too extreme, but Auguste had to keep the French superiourity in the region. He could have shot her right then, but if the French Revolution taught him one thing, it taught him sympathy. He cared very little for the poorer classes- but he himself, looked no worse than they did. Actually- he could have looked worse.

"...I told you, it doesn't matter if I get your sex or not. You're hardly attractive, I'm sure I could find real women who will work for much cheaper. For one night, I'll offer you whatever you'd make in a week. I'm not sure what your prices normally are. And- a dinner too." He didn't seem very passionate about the idea. The Revolution put him in his current state of depression, it showed through his appearance. This place made him miserable- this place instead of his home. Not that his home was anything close to home anymore. Sex could give him a momentary high.

"It's a good deal."

Oh. Now he took out the damn gun. Ilaria closed her eyes for a second, convinced he was going to shoot her. But he only pointed it at her. That enough was intimidating.

Ilaria would have to bite her tongue for now. Which sucked. She hated having to respect them. But it would've been beyond foolish to die just because she couldn't control her ego.

"We didn't ask for you to be here, y'know." she frowned. That much was true, and hopefully wasn't too much of an insult.

She was itching to say more, but wasn't too sure she could control herself if she kept on going.

...And when he said she was 'hardly attractive...' Oh that made matters worse. Ilaria was plenty attractive! She may not have had lots of curves, a perfect complexion, a clean body or a perfect face that she'd seen in books and what not... She tried her hardest not to reply with a 'you don't look any better, French pig!' or something of the like. God, she hated restraining herself.

"Huh? What I make in a week?" What was that supposed to mean? Ilaria hadn't been paid anything in awhile, and had not bothered to find a job. "I don't make anything, sir."

Call her lazy, but in reality, it was because everyone knew of her behavior and would not hire her because of that alone. She had the tendency to bite. But even if she was given money for simply going out for dinner and escaping before any sex could even happen...

"It may be a good deal, but I'm not interested."

Posts : 34 Join date : 2011-02-05

"We both benefit from being here." he snapped. He had to bite his tongue on that one as well. He knew this was only to benefit the French. He loved his Bourbon leaders, the people here must have loved their's. His old leaders were the greatest in the world.

"I told you not to talk back to me. Understand who we are, and learn your place under mine, under ours. Any man with this uniform, you give the utmost respect to." sliding his gun away. He didn't plan on shooting the girl, just on intimidating her.

"...." He finished his scolding. He glanced behind him. There were no restaraunts in site, or at least none that he knew of. He had this girl giving him respect now- it would take a while to get this behavior out of anyone else. So he turned down to her once more, he was tired, but he tried not to look it.

"Show me a good restaraunt, I'm in the mood for wine, show me the best place for it- and one of your whore houses." he barked out.

Ilaria narrowed her gaze, a bit pissed off he would think of this as benefiting her people at all.

"Then how do my people benefit from this?" she whispered under her breath. That wouldn't have gone over well had he heard her, seeing as he was ticked off as is.

Things just couldn't get any better could they? She had to shake him somehow, get back to whatever thing she did.

And it did get worse. Now he was asking about restaurants and wine. What the hell? Where were those in Calabria, Italy?! There were still fields of wine grapes and what not, but those had yet to be harvested, let alone transformed into wine.

"What restaurants? We barely have any those, let alone wine. And everything is pretty far apart." She clicked her tongue. These Frenchies had too high expectations for this place. "And whore houses... no, we don't have those either. You'll need to find a girl on your own for that."

Posts : 34 Join date : 2011-02-05

He didn't hear her sarcastic response- he wouldn't have an answer for her if he did. He probably would have just ignored it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a slight sigh. This place was so difficult. He didn't even want to be here. These people were so difficult. This whole place was repulsive.

"You guide me around, it doesn't have to be a restaraunt- take me to whoever has good wine. I've seen grapes in this place, you must grow it. They have to serve me. And whoever here you know to sell themselves- unless you plan to, then bring me to them as well." If only there were higher classed people here. Auguste wished he could associate with these Bourbon supporters. Of course, they probably would not recognize him as Versailles. Some of his siblings didn't even recognize him.

"I don't understand how you people can live in this dump."

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