Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Peter shook his head. "Well, he doesn't need to be."

She leaned and rest her head on his chest. "I pray for you two…"

He drew a hand to push his hair back. "What a ride.."

"That's certainly one way of putting it," George murmured, "How much longer until we arrive?"

"A while," Bailey admitted with a partial laugh. "It's far, the quickest way is through woods," snowflakes perched in his blond hair.

“Well, I’m enjoying the ride so far,” he smiled in return, “Though I do wish we were on the same horse right now~”

He gave him a quirky smirk. "So?"

“So I could be closer to you,” he replied simply, a faint pink rising to his cheeks.

"You're impeccably peachish." He snickered teasingly. "Can you not see the twenty minutes severed from me?"

"Leave me alone," George grumbled good-naturedly, scrunching up his nose.

Bailey snickered softly. "would you enjoy endulging me in a little horse race?"

(Hellooo?)

She leaned and rest her head on his chest. "I pray for you two…"

He kissed her hair gently. "Thank you, my love."

She closed her eyes.

Skip?

Okay! To?

Hmm, what's happening with our boi John again? I'm a lil rusty

(He just left Mirelle)

Spicy)

–

John hurried to the tavern where his comrade was waiting. He was late, and he knew it. Not a good look on his glittering reputation.

(So, can you rp his comrade? You can come up with his looks/name whatever, but his purpose is to gain profit by being aware of the affair. Blackmail, basically.)

( helloooo)

(Sorryyyyyy Let me make a quick template)

Name: Charles Benson
Appearance: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/420101471466455685/
Affiliation: British

Charles spotted John enter the tavern, and his eyes glittered. "(Rank, sorry I forget) André! Over here!"

(So, how does he know?)

Well, maybe he's related to Murielle somehow or has connections, and André did leave his coat there, so maybe when push came to shove… )

André let out a breath, and with it his worry, temporarily. "Mister Charles, good evening," he welcomed with a tailored smile, extended his hand to shake.

(True… I have plans now…)

Charles took John's hand and shook it heartily. The man looked relaxed enough… "How are you, sir?"

"Doing well," he answered, taking his seat. "And I hope the same goes for you?'

"Yes, very well." His gentle words hid his ominous tone.

"Great," he turned his head as the bartender came by, John ordered a light red wine. "So, Charles, let's begin,"

"Of course. You first, Mr. André," Charles insisted.

"If I'm to be assigned another division of men," he began, rubbing his chin, "Will that give me the authority to exercise some new techniques on them, as, say, a test group?" He asked.

"It depends on what, exactly, you want to test," he explained.

"I know we have the Queen's Rangers, but I believe we would be more successful spreading guerilla warfare into the average British platoon." John explained.