Public Places || CLOSED || the-reaper-hybrid
Antoine sat at a rather secluded corner of the street, perched at the end of the second lowest of the steps leading to an apartment on Rue de Saint Denis. Clad in an unbuttoned and unironed navy coat decorated in medals, the soldier balanced a tall hat on his knee and a piece of metal between his teeth, his gaze strained on where he ought to be placing it. A dismantled gun was splayed more deeply into the faint shadow, and attached to what was still one weapon, was a shining metal bayonet, much lighter than it appeared.
The entire idea of the gun, and carrying it the following day was ceremonial. He had not, he realized, fired a gun properly at a moving target for weeks, months, even. Had he not been previously in the company of a woman, Antoine might not have been so thoughtless, and would have found the idea of his replacing the word ‘man’ for ‘moving target’ curious, and yet. his eyes shone with excitement, as they often did on such evenings.
The shadow he sat under disguised that belonging to a figure, which he looked up to find hovering, for how long he had no clue, above him. The man stood, knocking every part down the small stone steps, and sprayed a series of apologies.
"Sorry, yes- I’ll get out of the way-" he smiled, cheeks numb and pink with the cold.