Dizzy Land

After being seemingly possessed by the spirit of piracy and violence, whilst seemingly forgetting his inability to use any kind of weapon, Beaufort thought it better to stay indoors. Especially after that new doctor took the trouble to laugh at his misfortune in French (which, admittedly, led to some sarcastic comments about the Swiss), he didn't particularly feel like being social. For at least a week or so, his desire to not be ridiculed further by certain people was winning over his desire to go and apologise for his impropriety. If you could class drawing a sword on someone as impropriety.

However, he did eventually find the nerve to go and knock on Percy's door, and for once, was hoping he, and not Marguerite, was in instead of vice versa. There was a lot of explaining that needed to happen, but there was a lot he felt he had to say too. Before he lost the chance to say what he had so foolishly got into a proper fight over.

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))

Beaufort hadn't taken very long to get settled in and find somewhere to sleep, given that he had become very accustomed to living in all sorts of places in very temporary circumstances. Saying that, he'd never had to find actually something to sleep on before, but after a lot of faffing around and falling over things, he'd managed to sort that out too. There was the definate impression in his mind which meant this was a bit of a free for all, and it was perfectly alright to just go and take something, as there was another one right in it's place. Even so, he spent a while tentatively prodding his lunch, making sure it wasn't an evil-clone-sandwich or something.

Then there was the matter of something to do. There was a lot to figure out about this world, and some of the discussions he'd had before he was allowed in the park had set him thinking, so he spent most of his afternoon making observations and trying to figure out the exact political basis of this park. It was, in many respects, much more relaxing than where he normally lived, and allowed him to ignore how absurd this place was. Then again, if he was going to do this properly, he needed a few things. Firstly a fact finding mission, which he could do mostly on his own, secondly, some books, as he was more a reader of political thought than a provider of it, and thirdly, a nice glass of wine. Upon failing to find both of the latter, he decided to see how efficient the postal system was, and test out the notice board.

( Stuck to the notice board on official Ministry headed paper )

He could always hope someone could provide, even if he doubted it possible. It was a strange place, so he doubted anything followed any real logic. Like somewhere with as many people as this should have a reasonable collection of intellectual books. All there seemed to be were cartoons, though.