http://yousir-mesir.livejournal.com/ (
yousir-mesir.livejournal.com) wrote in
dizzy_land2008-03-19 05:25 pm
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Open RP - Percy is a strange (wo)man
Normally when Percy suffered from the throes of boredom he'd seek out one of the members of his league to entertain him, or perhaps write another insufferably terrible poem to share with His Highness, the Prince of Wales. He'd go to London for a lark or race his yacht down the Thames, scheme another scheme or maybe even figure out another way to sneak into the chaotic streets of Paris. Now? Now all Percy could do was meddle in little ways. He did enjoy a good disguise.
Dressing up as an old hag had been easy, but to dress up as a pretty young woman? Well, that would be a challenge indeed. He had found a dress, something rose-coloured and pretty in one of the shops (he did suppose it was pretty, but the tailoring was poor...and confusing), and had disguised himself well. A painted lady! It made him laugh to see his own appearance. His breast was small and his shoulders were wide, and he looked more like a Hapsburg lady of old than a dainty maiden, but he was fair enough under all the makeup and lace and frills.
Ah, and now for the fun. He left Adventureland and just went walking, wondering who would be fooled and who would just think him completely mad. He kept a fan in front of his face and tried not to topple over in these demmed pumps.
Dressing up as an old hag had been easy, but to dress up as a pretty young woman? Well, that would be a challenge indeed. He had found a dress, something rose-coloured and pretty in one of the shops (he did suppose it was pretty, but the tailoring was poor...and confusing), and had disguised himself well. A painted lady! It made him laugh to see his own appearance. His breast was small and his shoulders were wide, and he looked more like a Hapsburg lady of old than a dainty maiden, but he was fair enough under all the makeup and lace and frills.
Ah, and now for the fun. He left Adventureland and just went walking, wondering who would be fooled and who would just think him completely mad. He kept a fan in front of his face and tried not to topple over in these demmed pumps.
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"I grew up in France. I love its people...all of its people. I love the country and I love the culture. I have vowed to take a stand." He sighed. Though he had taken a stand, all of it was lost now that he was here. Armand was surely dead, and dear Marguerite had probably gone back to Paris and lost her head too. "But none of that matters now."
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"I think you might be wondering why I told you." He smiled, genuinely, and slowly slipped off the counter. "And I suppose I'm not sure why myself. I only hope that one day I can repay you the favor you have graced me by simply listening and trying to understand." He gave the young Kit a knowing glance and bowed his head.
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She paused on the next point, still not sure how reply to that, "Perhaps, one day, you can. I must confess my secrets are not nearly as exciting as that, though."
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