Disclaimer: as much as I'd love to write 30 pages about the lives and deaths of our favourite characters, I cannot. This being my first attempt at writing for this site, I hope it isn't too crazy. Feel free to send me any feedback. I need to know what you think!
The sun may rise and set every day according to plan, but there is no particular schedual for a person's temper. The musketeers learned that the hard way. Captain Duval, as it was known throughout the barracks, was as quick tempered as they come. If something was not to his liking, he would make it known to the world. It's too bad Jacqueline didn't realize that earlier.
Duval stomped out of his quarters, rage evedently boiling over. He was mad. This was clear as soon as he was visible. He had a dishevelled look about him and it was obvious he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. Siroc and Ramon were seated at the table in the front hall. When Duval entered, conversation ceased and the two friends quickly tried to look very interested in their meal.
"Where is he?" Duval had never sounded so outraged. "Where's who, captian?" Ramon gave him the most innocent look he could muster up. "Who? Don't you play games with me, private. Tell me where LePont is or I'll have you scrubbing out the letrines for the next four weeks...WITH YOUR TOOTHBRUSH!!!!!!"
Ramon, against all consiousness, lifted his arm slowly, pausing when he was finally pointing at the door to the stables.
As Duval stalked off, Siroc shuddered. "He's in for it this time."
Ramon, seeing d'Artagnan quickly slipping out the side door, replied "Let's just hope he doesn't get there first."