The Doorway: a panfandom game

[Chauvelin & Sir Blakeney]

I forgot to tell you, Percy and I took Robespierre to Paris. Is there anything I should bring back for you?

[Filtered to Dorian Gray]

I doubt I ever felt so out of place as I do when reading these reports. Tell me, old sport, d'you have any idea what time division multiplexing (multiplexage par répartition dans le temps) is exactly? Cause I'll be damned if I've the slightest.

[Filtered to Armand Chauvelin]
Citizen.

I have spent the past week acquainting myself with this ville. It seems that though they veil themselves in republican disguises, aristocracy is alive and well here. They call themselves the One Percent and they should be our target in reforging this society.

How fortunate that there is a group already organized against them and poised ready to attack on Tuesday. I spoke to some of their numbers in Central Park yesterday afternoon and have my own preparations to make. But I want you to speak to these young scholars, see what they have to say and what assistance they require. Their leader is the one in the suit and mask like this and has quite novel ideas on the use of barrels in barricades.

I suspect tirelessly tyrannical bosses with a Spartan attitude toward every minor failu professional colleagues aren't everyone's first choice for new arrivals.

But I won't pretend it won't be nice to have someone to talk politics with, finally.

["Friends" of the Blakeneys, + Citizens of France]
(OOC: Basically, in this case "Friends" means anyone at all who isn't about to spoil their fun and confirm that Robespierre didn't actually come through the Tesseract)

This morning I received an announcement that Maximilien François Marie Isidore de Robespierre was brought through the Tesseract. He was, in fact, a family friend and so they thought it best that I be the person notified so that I might help. I met with him myself this morning and confirmed indeed that he is here with head intact. I've done my very best to help him adjust to the climate of the times, and he's told me he'll be willing to accept visitors tomorrow.

On National Coffee Day, we are reminded that anyone in this day and age can establish whatever celebration he pleases, so long as he has a Facebook account and a few friends with a bit of time to kill.

But they're not all merely frivolous: some are downright backward, like October 16's Boss's Day, or bafflingly unnecessary (e.g. Sandwich Day, Nov. 3rd - was ever there an object that required less public celebration?).

Suddenly parsnip day doesn't seem so very foolish. At least it was only a name, not a command.

Funny enough.

I'd have thought were I a literary character, I'd be myself. But when have I ever been?

Who: Chauvelin (and open to anyone who'd care to drop in, of course)
When: Sunday afternoon
Where: The Esplanade
What: Smoking, littering, moping.
Rating: Low.

( Time's signature, as far as he could tell, was 1/1. )

Why is it that every single actor in the history of theatre acts as though Hamlet was the only play Shakespeare ever wrote?

Henry was

[Per Chauvelin]

Are you free at the moment?

Who: Blakeneys, Guests, and +1s
When: August 26, 2013; 6:30 pm until they pretty much get kicked out.
Where: Club 21, Manhattan
What: A necessoirée! IC/OOC threading
Rating: Fancy

( Vivez! )

Delivery For:

Oscar François de Jarjayes Basil Hallward Dorian Gray Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Don Draper Clara Oswald Pepper Potts & Tony Stark (MCU) Peggy Carter & Stephen Dedalus Henri Combeferre Septimus Smith & Isabel Pole Thor & Jane Foster Rupert Giles Dr. Stephen Strange

Lady Door Albus Dumbledore Severus Snape Mycroft Holmes Gregory House James Wilson Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine Wesley Wyndam-Pryce Armand Chauvelin Simon Grantaire & Denis Enjolras George Oscar Bluth, II April Ludgate-Dwyer Henry Sturges

(OOC: If you're friendly with either one of the Blakeneys, assume you also got an invitation -- it's my oversight! Not Marguerite's! A few people on this list (Contessa, GOB, April) received invitations because Marguerite thought your name sounded fancy (and because I thought it was kind of funny to invite GOB). You can all RSVP IC to this post!)

( AN INVITATION! )

I had the privilege of my wife's company for rather less than three months - before we were married, I'd put the grand total, generously calculated, of the time we spent in the same room at something like three weeks. (Travel was a different thing altogether back then, and she lived more than eighty miles away - no casual journey.) After the wedding, we lived together for two months and three days before I returned to Versailles (four hundred and fifty miles away, for those keeping track).

Not quite three months of actual togetherness; perhaps sixteen months from our first introduction to when I buried her. By the numbers, not terribly impressive, even by my very old-fashioned standards.

And so I think it's nice to sit by her again - quite nice. There isn't much to say, but often that's for the best.

Now let's see. We've Juno and the Paycock, but if they're at all concerned about the authenticity of accents, I rather think I'm up the creek.

I think I might see what this Defacing Michael Jackson is all about, or perhaps I ought to look into something I already know -- King Lear has never steered me wrong..

... Or then, there is Marie Antoinette but that seems both a bit awkward and hardly acting, I should think.

Does anyone have any suggestions? For once, I think I could do with some advice.

I wonder, in light of current media coverage of the British royalty and their new addition, what this world would have made of the downfall of Louis Capet and (more to the point) his son.

An utter hash, I suppose. If one can make a sensation out of a baby blanket and a car seat ...

[FILTER: Marguerite]

Have coffee with me.

In the spirit of taking rash, irreversible action in the face of dire circumstances, I invite you all to come tomorrow night for a casual celebration of the beginning of the end, of one of history's greatest lessons in looking before you leap, of the day we in la belle France decided we would throw up our hands, procure a very large armory, and decide later what exactly we were going to do with it - of, in short, the best sort of holiday on which to get utterly tight on a Sunday and have to wake up the next morning for work.

It will be a very happy Bastille Day. (And I will be a very happy host if a few of you would chip in a few dollars for Money in the Bank, which I consider a most meet and fitting backdrop for a holiday commemorating an assault on an empty building.)

Sunday, July 14, at Eight o'Clock in the Evening
Room 5209
Come One, Come All
Contributions are welcome in the form of snacks, beverages, and pay-per-view donations.

I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice.
Abraham Lincoln

An American I think I can get behind, who would have thought.

[Percy Blakeney]

Why do you think it is we've been brought here to witness all this madness? Do the powers that be not realise we've already stuffed ourselves on terror and senselessness. I'm angry, I'm damn angry - and I almost threw something at Armand the other day. He's still as insufferable as ever, of course, and considering all that's happening here, I half suspect he'll be in charge by next Tuesday.

I am Oscar François de Jarjayes, and I have been told the year is 2013. That is a long time away from 1789.

I have also been told I have a room prepared for me, but the doctor is keeping me quarantined while I begin treatment for consumption. He said I should be safe for other people to be around in a week or so. The hardest thing will be the boredom. The doctor warned me about something called googling, but he did not explain what that is.

I have three pressing questions, the most important of which I will ask last.

Are there any tailors or seamstresses here? The doctor's assistant took my uniform to be cleaned and gave me something called scrubs. I hope they are not considered the height of fashion.

Is there anywhere I might, when I am allowed out again, purchase a violin?

But, most importantly, I must know: did the people of Paris succeed in taking the Bastille?

The more you know:

"...the Second of July, 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America. I am apt to believe it will be celebrated by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival."
- John Adams

Oh, John. If only you knew about Americans and their penchant for historical inaccuracies. In other words, happy anniversary to America. Time for fireworks, barbecue, American flag cakes, posing like a 90s Tommy Hilfiger ad, and all the other 4th of July clichés one could possibly dream of.

As an objective observer, I am quite able to understand the necessary trials and tribulations which mold and develop the characters in fictional works. Without them, the narrative would possess no value.

However, as the protagonist of a supposedly fictional work, I am far less amused by the suffering I have endured, despite the fact that it has shaped me into the man I am today.

And I'd heard good things about the fashion in America.