milliways_bar | Entries tagged with percy blakeney

The door opens to the sights and sounds of Paris in the grip of The Terror. Which mostly sounds like a really big, long-running party in a lot of ways. And old woman, hunched over and squinting, walks through and pauses.

"This ain't the Arms," she complains loudly after taking a moment to collect herself. She scowls around her, as if looking to see who's responsible for her arrival, but upon seeing no obvious culprits she stomps over to the bar and begins loudly demanding that someone bring her something to drink. When a glass of wine actually appears, she blinks once, then shrugs and grabs it.

Before it can disappear again.

[Percy is wearing a CLEVER DISGUISE! Despite the icon, it's actually very convincing!]

3nanashi

Trowa's settled at a corner table with a book and an empty glass. Eventually he might bother to get another drink, but he hasn't yet.

The glass contained lemonade, for the curious. The book is in Japanese; it's a collection of speeches by a professor and would-be demagogue named Sugimoto Hayao.

Trowa doesn't look as if he's paying much attention to the rest of the room, but he probably is.

originalbruce.livejournal.com

"Fah!" the tall, foppish man calls over his shoulder as he walks into the bar. "You must admit that the coat is the finest you've worn all year! Why, the collar is a dream! The waist is, of course, a nightmare, but still a huge improvement over..."

He trails off in confusion as the door swings shut and he's not in the room he thought he was in. There is quite a bit of blinking as Percy Blakeney just stands there. Then his eyes widen in realization.

"Oho! It is that fantastical bar. Mirways or whatnot."

He's not very good with names.

originalbruce.livejournal.com

Percy strides through the door with an air of determination and purpose. But as soon as he realizes that he's walked into Milliways, his entire demeanor shifts. His steps become languidly graceful and his expression goes from thoughtful and controlled to lazy and indulgent.

"Gads," he declares, "isn't this an odd place to be again!"

renegadeheart

[OOM: "I shall not fear anything if you're with me. Not even heathen Bear Gods or Innkeepers that are really turtles."]

[Tiniest tags in Europe: Marguerite Blakeney, Sir Percy Blakeney]

renegadeheart

Coming through the door are a young couple dressed at the height of fashion - for 1792. He has his frock coat thrown back so he can bury his hands deep into the pockets of his britches. She sports an elegant high waisted ballgown under her fur cape, and her hand curled fondly around his elbow. One of them, it appears, has just said something funny, because her musical laugh only just precedes his leading her into the bar.

Sir Percy and Lady Blakeney have just this instant returned to their Richmond estate from an evening in London, and certainly were not expecting an inn when they came through the front door.

"I say," Sir Percy exclaims suddenly, "did you order some work done on the house while we were out?"

[OOC: Two pups, two muns, one shared first entrance.

Tiny Married Tags: Percy Blakeney, Marguerite Blakeney]

the-pimpernel.livejournal.com

*Marguerite Blakeney has just entered, accompanied by her husband, and looking divinely pretty beneath the wealth of her golden, reddish curls, slightly besprinkled with powder, and tied back at the nape of her graceful neck with a gigantic black bow. Always dressed in the very latest vagary of fashion, Marguerite alone among the ladies that night wore the short-waisted classical-shaped gown, which so soon was to become the approved mode in every country in Europe. It suited her graceful, regal figure to perfection, composed as it was of shimmering stuff which seemed a mass of rich gold embroidery. Sir Percy Blakeney, as the chronicles of the time inform us, was in this year of grace 1792, still a year or two on the right side of thirty. Tall, above the average, even for an Englishman, broad-shouldered and massively built, he would have been called unusually good-looking, but for a certain lazy expression in his deep-set blue eyes, and that perpetual inane laugh which seemed to disfigure his strong, clearly-cut mouth.*

What ho, innkeeper! Brandy for myself, and for my lovely wife, your best claret!

The Bar at the End of the Universe

Entries tagged with percy blakeney

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