Application for the Scarlet Pimpernel

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Percy had armed and disguised himself for his dangerous trip into Paris. Armand was in trouble. One of his league was in trouble, and he couldn't just leave him to his fate. It would be unfair. Armand had put his trust in Percy and in turn Percy always made sure never to break a dear friend's trust. Besides, it was his own fault Armand had been caught in the first place. All other plans to rescue the doomed Aristos would have to wait. He dismounted his horse and made his way through the darkness to where he knew his ship would be waiting to take him to France.

Suddenly, and quite strangely, he was no longer in the midst of the fog and brush and trees. He was...somewhere else. Somewhere bizarre. Somewhere strange. Something moved near to him and he stood straight, his normally drooping eyelids now set firmly open and aware. What was this madness? Where was he? Was this some kind of twisted French trap?

No, no, it did not feel like a trap. If it was not a trap, well, then where was he? He looked about and suddenly two figures appeared. They were strange creatures, very strange indeed, but considering his new surroundings perhaps they weren't so strange at all. His first instinct was to ask them what they were doing here, or more likely, what had they done to him, but he soon pushed down those Pimpernel-like dramatics and reverted to Percy the Fop. It was a part he played very well.



Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"

Percy, unaccustomed to anyone not knowing his name, bowed deeply at the rodent. It would be foolish not to be polite seeing as this seemed to be the creature’s home, and furthermore if this was the creature’s home that would seem to indicate that it was exceedingly wealthy and powerful. Percy knew enough to be polite to wealthy and powerful rodents. “Sir Percy Blakeney,” he answered, then moved his single eyeglass up to inspect the bright, yellow shoes the large animal had on his…her…feet. “Simply intriguing…” he murmured quietly, making his voice drawl the way he was used to in front of certain company.

"What is your quest?" asks the Cat. It's perched, suddenly, on the roof of one of the gate-stiles.

Quest? It was to save as many condemned persons as he could from being unjustly executed at the hands of Madame Guillotine.
It was to stop Citizen Chauvelin from finding out his true identity and ruining his cover as the Pimpernel.
It was to fool the Prince of Wales long enough to get him out of his finely-done hair.
It was to find the truth behind Marguerite’s betrayal (and did she even still love him?)
It was to get to France in time to save Armand before he was killed - a death that would be directly and entirely his fault.

This was not one question he could answer truthfully for fear that he would be exposed. Percy stood tall and then gave a high-pitched laugh, tugging at his cravat and waving his hand as though his wrist was a hinge. “Why, I have no quest! What man this day and age has a quest? No, I’m afraid my good feline that I spend my time writing poetry and finding the right shoes to go with this waistcoat. Surely your mouse-y friend there would agree with me that locating just the right pair of shoes is a very noble endeavor indeed.”

"'What is the average w..?'" Mickey frowns down at the notebook. "You know, I don't really see why that's important." He flips a page. "'If you could be granted three wishes, what would they be?'"

"Or," the Cat says, examining its tail with interest, "if you were a genie and someone you were trying to give three wishes to was trying to trick you into giving him more, what would you say?"

Percy was rather perplexed by the banter and demeanor of these two creatures. What was the meaning of this interrogation? Still, and more importantly, where was he? Best to comply with the masters of the house, as it were.

The point of having to come up with three wishes seemed preposterous.

“If I were a genie I’d tell them to naturally quit while they were ahead, for it’s very clear that I’m the more clever of the duo.”

Mickey looks rather nonplused at the next, but reads, "'When the revolution comes, what skills will you be able to barter for food?'"

Revolution? When it comes? It was already here, man! Hadn’t he heard about what was happening in France and North America? What sort of shady business was afoot here? “Good sir,” he began, almost timidly. It was a rare thing when Sir Percy allowed himself to be intimidated, but here it was though he was at the whim of these two creatures. “If you are speaking of Revolution to my dear land of England, then I must say that Revolution has come. The colonies are gone…but if you are speaking of revolution in the United Kingdom itself, I say never! The Prince of Wales would never allow such a thing.” And here Percy put his hand to his breast.

“As for skills…” He could shoot and steal and act and speak a number of different languages, was a master of disguise, was a man a wit and character, could get himself out of almost any and all sticky situations, not to mention he could duel and write horrible poetry. “As you can see I am a fabulous dresser.” He straightened out his cravat and smoothed out his striped waistcoat. “And I can dance for hours and hours without ever tiring.”

The Cat rolls its eyes in a friendly (and rather disconcertingly out-of-sync) way, and asks, "Milk, dark, or white chocolate?"

“Chocolate?” Percy immediately asked. “There is more than one kind? Sink me, how extraordinary.” He had the feeling the feline was lying about there being more than one kind of chocolate other than that bitter stuff men drink in coffee houses.

"'Choose the two coolest: robots, pirates, fairies, bears, ninjas, monkeys, vampires, or humans,'" says Mickey, giggling a bit as he goes through the list. "'Explain.'"

Percy, who had always been clever enough before to wiggle himself out of tight situations, was absolutely baffled by this question. “Sink me,” he gasped, eyes widening. He could ask this rodent to define the word cool, since it was clearly not being used in the proper way here, but maybe he could get away with his ignorance.

“Pirates are not ‘cool’ fellows, they are rascals and vicious killers,” he said in a reprimanding tone. “I do not know what a robot is, but if it is in league with a pirate or a fairy, which is a tricky creature by nature, then I want nothing to do with it. I’ve never heard of a ninja, I’ve never met a vampire, monkeys are silly animals, so I suppose that leaves me with bears and humans.”

“Humans, above all else, are the coolest.” After all, it was the human imagination that was most clever, most fantastic, was it not?

"Great!" Mickey flips through the blank pages of the notebook at top, cartoon-y speed. "Well, I think that's just about it! Oh, and I'm supposed to ask, 'for your safety: are you carrying anything sharp?'"

Percy looked aghast at being asked such a question, but in his mind he did suppose it was a fair one. Let’s see….he tapped his lip gently with his long handled monocle and stared the rodent down. He supposed he could let his guard down, at least this once. “Sir, this cane is a concealed weapon, and I own a pistol which I keep on me at all times, though it’s not exactly the sharpness of said pistol that will do a person damage.”

After this he laughed loudly and obnoxious. “Sink me, a gentleman can never be too careful!”




((This is Sir Percy Blakeney, otherwise known as the Scarlet Pimpernel. A wiki entry for your troubles. :D ))

Comments

[tomato-fiend.livejournal.com]

Duckula had never done this before, going and greeting new people, but he didn't see why he shouldn't give it a shot. Did he just think a double negative? Quite possibly. He semi walked, semi waddled over, looked at the man curiously, decided he was wearing a slightly older, slightly more 3-D version of what he normally wore, except with a distinct air of dashing to go in the mix.

"I would sink you, but there's no water nearby. Once you've been let inside, I might be able to help you, but for now, you're just going to have to stay afloat. Although really, it's more of 'run aground' right now. Lose your ship? I lost my castle. Terrible business." He was rambling, he knew it, but this was the most interesting thing that had happened in days, bar that scary dragon-person.

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Gadzooks! Was that a duck...in people-clothes? Oh, but this was too strange! Sir Percy shook his head and brought his monocle to his eye, looking down at the duck like one would look at a curiosity in a museum. "Sink me," he muttered out of habit. This duck could speak, and what's more, it would seem that it has lost it's castle. It. Lost. It's. Castle. Gadzooks.

Perhaps, Percy thought, he could find some common ground with this well-dressed, talking, rambling duck. "What sort of tailor made your suit, good Sir duck? Oh, but do you have a name? I am Sir Percy Blakeney." And at this he bowed low.

[tomato-fiend.livejournal.com]

Duckula raised an eyebrow when the fancy man said his strange phrase again, confused entirely as to what he could mean by it. What a strange expression. "My suit? Well it..." Duckula didn't want to scare the guy. He was sick of being ran away from as soon as he mentioned he was a vampire, before he could explain. Fortunately, people around here were alright. This guy, he didn't think would be. "Actually, my butler, Igor, got it me, I'm not entirely sure where from." Much better than saying, 'well, it was here when I was re-incarnated. Came with the body and all.'

"And I am Count Duckula. Nice to meet you, Sir Percy." Duckula returned the bow, rather unsure of himself, but the man was a Sir.

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Count...Duckula. Oh how very clever. Percy stood straight and looked about both his shoulders, just to make sure none of his men were putting him on. Perhaps he had too much cognac to drink. One should never drink before riding horse back, but then again, one should always drink before a sea voyage. "Charmed, charmed," Percy said, putting his monocle to his lips with a smile and tapping gently.

"Your suit!" he exclaimed, turning around the duck slowly as he pretended to eye the craftsmanship. "Very nice indeed. You must be a high player within social circles, no?" Percy allowed his voice to fall into that slow, annoying way of talking most dandies took to speaking in.

[tomato-fiend.livejournal.com]

Duckula smiled, rather confused by Sir Percy, but also rather intrigued. Especially the way he spoke. Did someone slow him down, or something? "Thank you. Yours is very nice. Elaborate and everything." Duckula paused on this question, as not many social circles would have a vampire, and none of the Transylvanian social circles would have a vegetarian one. "Well, I would, but my castle used to be very remote. Rather difficult to meet anyone new."

[no1likeher.livejournal.com]

Pippi heard the voice over the loud speakers and when flouncing up to the front wearing a pirate hat and with Mr. Neilson on her shoulder.

"Can you dance the Schottche?" She asked tugging on one of the man's pantlegs.

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Percy felt a tug on his breeches and turned to see who the culprit had been, eyes widening to the point of ridiculous when he saw the girl. 'Good lord,' he thought, 'a ragamuffin.' So this place had urchins too?

"I dance every dance there is," he murmured, dropping his monocle and bowing slightly at the waist.

[no1likeher.livejournal.com]

Pippi tilted her head at the oddly evasive answer.

She bobbed a curtsy and held out her hand.

"Charmed, charmed by my honor." she said. Which is what she recalled hearing very fine gentlemen saying to very fine ladies.

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

At this Percy smiled. The girl made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but she was quite 'charming'. He took off his hat and nodded his head to her. "What is your name, dear girl?"

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

"Better not hurt yourself with that pistol," Una said wryly. "Good afternoon, Mr Blakeney. I'm Una Persson."

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

What an entirely fascinating group of people, Percy thought quietly. He had the feeling that this woman was teasing him, but he had a strong stomach for being thought of as a fool and mocked. He leaned on his cane and took off his hat to her. "Charmed," he said. "I assure you, the pistol is for mostly decorative purposes."

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

"Well, in the event you want to practise with it, there's a shooting range over in the area of the park called Frontierland. Which would be where I live." She folded her arms and smiled. "So where and when did you drop in from?"

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Percy looked flabbergasted at the very thought of actually firing a pistol. A gentleman would never fire a pistol unless on a hunt, naturally. "Frontierland," he repeated, the word sounding strange on his tongue. He nodded. "Sink me, I just may try my hand and target practise after all. I don't expect to be much good at it though."

"I'm from England," Percy answered, a little confused by the 'when' aspect of the question. "I am from now. What a silly question!"

[ningyou-hime.livejournal.com]

Chii had listened curiously to the new arrival -- he didn't know what robots were. Well, he was in luck, because she was one, and she finally understood that, now.

"Hello, Mr. Blakeney," Chii greeted him with a curtsy. "My name is Chii. Chii is a robot."

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Oh, and who was this? Percy took off his hat to the girl and tried not to be taken aback by her strange appearance and manner of speaking. "Dear me, did you say a robot?" Percy did not know what a robot looked like or what its purpose was, rather he was all-around just confused by the very word. Robot. "Hello Chii the Robot." How does one speak to a robot?

[ningyou-hime.livejournal.com]

Chii was unaware a robot should be spoken to any differently than anyone else, so she thought Percy was doing just fine. In fact, he seemed very polite, and thorough, as he called her "the robot."

Smiling, Chii nodded her head. "Chii said robot, yes." But she couldn't have explained her purpose if asked. What she looked like was obvious, though.

"So what is Mr. Percy? Other than human?" The second question was delivered with a hopeful, but curious tone.

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Percy noticed that Chii was a little different than most young ladies, and yet she still had the appearance of a girl and therefore made him most puzzled about the nature of robots. In essence she was not human then? "You are the first robot I have ever met," he told her honestly.

Percy smiled at this, finding her question quite endearing. "I am a gentleman," he answered. "And an Englishman."

[dog-of-madness.livejournal.com]

Barnabas hadn't done much at all for a while, having never been got back to on the whole police force thing, so decided to greet the new arrival, and maybe mess with his head a little bit.

"Woof," he said, trotting up to sit down in front of Percy, looking up at him appealingly. The probelm was, he didn't bark. He actually said, 'woof'.

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Percy jumped and stuck out his cane towards where he had heard the noise. Upon finding that he was not under attack he relaxed, only to see a rather big dog looking at him. "Od's fish..." he murmured. He cocked his head from side to side to see if he could try and spot the owner, but then again, maybe this wasn't a normal dog just like his duck friend wasn't a normal duck.

"Erm...hello?"

[dog-of-madness.livejournal.com]

"Hello," said Barnabas amiably enough, putting his paw on the cane to politely push it out of the way rather than giving into the automatic urge to bite it. It smelled of metal. Biting sword-sticks was not on his agenda, or at least not in the century he had come from.

"Yes, I am a talking dog. No, you're not dreaming, crazy or dead, because I would know. My name's Barnabas. People sometimes add 'the Dog', but that's kinda pointless unless they're talking to blind people." And yes, he was babbling. Time without any of his family was making him edgy and annoyingly formal. He thumped his tail once or twice on the ground before holding out his paw again to shake. "If it's not too rude, sir, might I ask your name?"

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Percy felt foolish for pointing his cane at this rather polite dog. He put the cane to his side and returned to leaning on it, staring down for another moment or two before regaining his sense of manners. Of course this was a special dog - there had been a special duck so far, a robot, a little urchin girl...why not a talking dog? He took off his head and bowed at the waist. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Barnabas. Sink me, didn't mean to be so rude before, my dear dog."

He paused before taking Barnabas' paw and shaking it formally. "My name is Sir Percy Blakeney. Percy will do just fine."

[mickey-mous.livejournal.com]

"Well, okay, Percy," said Mickey. "Are you ready to find out which of our excitin' lands you'll be livin' in?"

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Percy tipped his hat off to the rodent, still utterly confused by the whole mess but willing to go along with the hallucination for now. "Sir," he said. "I am."

[mickey-mous.livejournal.com]

Mickey eyed him carefully. "What d'ya think about Adventureland?"

[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

For a moment Percy was silent, his gloved hand to his mouth. Finally he smiled. "My dear fellow, it has the word adventure in it. It suits me just fine," he smirked.