closed(ish) rp, Percy and Beaufort

[oui-ministre.livejournal.com]

Beaufort woke up and realised something was incredibly wrong, even before he spoke. His clothes were...distinctly not a suit and not made in the 1940s. In fact, it struck him more as something distinctly historical. He frowned, wondering when he invaded one of the exhibits for clothes, how drunk he was, and where the hell he got that much alcohol from. There was also a sword. He was pretty sure it was not a good idea to go to sleep with a sword attached. After having woken up and realising his accent was...coarser, less educated and more prone to swearing at the situation, he shook his head and decided to head outside to see what the hell was going off.

Part of him, somewhere, was looking for one man in particular, as there was a pirate in him. A rather angry pirate.

((Peanut gallery is most welcome, but don't, um, interfere just yet, pleaaase))

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[yousir-mesir.livejournal.com]

Percy jumped out of bed with an excited yell that day. He had an eyepatch, and a rapier, and his hair was mussed and he felt dirty and freed. He left Marguerite (to come back to later, of course, he had the urge to ravish her senseless) and went about the park to see if anyone else was smelly and suddenly speaking in a garish accent. Oh, but what fun!

He was bouncing about the park, growling and cursing and being the complete opposite of a fop today. He was rather in his element, all let loose and wild and debonair...but in a rustic way.