Application for Claude Rains (Heroes)
Aug. 15th, 2007 03:18 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
invisibleclaude.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
hh_mirror((Done with permission from Peter- and Noah-muns. Claude is taken from after the end of the first chapter of Heroes (ie first season) and will have spoilers for that.))
The Sorting Room appeared to be empty. For a few long moments the application and the quill poised, waiting, seemingly for no one. Then, with a flicker, a man appeared in the center of the room, eyes warily searching the corners before he approached the table.
He was, in a word, scruffy. Worn clothes, shaggy beard and hair, the all over hunched look of someone who didn't sleep in a clean bed every night. Homeless, one might even say. A bum.
Pulling a soft pretzel out of his pocket, he began to absently munch on it while he looked around. "What kind of place is this?" His North London accent was thick and his eyebrow twitched up in an expression that might have been amusement. Or could have just as easily been disgust. It was hard to tell.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Now that question was out of the ordinary. Pausing, looking around one last time, Claude shrugged and slid into the seat, popping the last of the pretzel into his mouth and brushing off his hands.
"Right, okay, cheese." The quill helpfully jotted down his words and Claude let out a snort. "Nice trick." But he looked around again, nervous, before hunching over the application, almost as if to present a smaller target. "Um, well, can't say that I'm much of a connoisseur. Good basket of chips and a beer's all I usually need, you know? Nice steak, whatever I can nick. But if I had to choose, I guess I'd say cheddar of some kind. Versatile, yeah? Lots of things you can do with it. Tastes good on sandwiches."
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
For a moment, Claude remained absolutely still. Then his teeth bared slightly and his eyes tracked the quill, waiting on the parchment. The Company had some odd tricks in its sleeve, but this was weird and random, even for them. He hadn't been followed. He was sure of it. And, so far as he knew, the Company didn't have a presence here. Still, that question made something in him freeze up and it was, with effort, that he relaxed enough to grit out, "Neither. Why bother? Done nothing to me, have they? Live and let live's my motto. Don't make waves. They go about their business and I can keep to mine."
3. What time is it where you are?
"'Bout quarter past three." A faint smile crossed his face as he checked a shiny new Rolax on his wrist. "Unless that fat guy sweating in his suit at the airport didn't kept his watch wound."
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
"Please." Claude snorted loudly and leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs and resting his feet on the desk. Still cautious, gaze still jumping around the room, he nonetheless was amused by the question. "Think I'm going to waste time on harassment? Let me tell you something, friend. People suck. Every last bleeding one of them. Girl, bloke, something in between - they're all going to hold you back, keep you on a leash, and then shove you ass over kettle when they get the chance. Better to go it alone. At least then you're not going to wind up bleeding, with your ass in a sling because you trusted someone you shouldn't. Harassment is more trouble than it's worth."
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
Rolling his eyes, Claude glared down at the parchment. Who the hell had come up with these questions? Some simpering little poodle with a stick of crazy up its ass, probably. Finally huffing out a sigh, Claude answered, "The Coach and Horses." And anyone who didn't get that reference was an idiot.
B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
"Oh, for the love of the mother and her crown!" Standing up in violent temper, Claude scowed down at the paper. "People. People. All you go on about, isn't it? Well, let me tell you - there's no mythology in the world that can erase the simple truth that everyone is just out for themselves. In the end, you're going to get screwed and screwed royal. Got thin soup and that's your supper, nothing you can do. So what does it matter who this Harry ends up with? He's going to get strung on a leash and patted on the head and held down no matter what, and that's the truth. Only way to be free is to get rid of all the people what are clogging up your life. Bah." Collapsing back down into the chair, disgusted, Claude waved his hand. "Better if Harry just disappeared. That's your answer."
C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
"Never said I was smart, friend." Claude had found an apple somewhere in his coat and was now chewing away. "And I don't give a flying pig about your papers. Burn 'em, fill 'em out, throw 'em away. Makes me no mind."
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
Studying the question for a long moment, a variety of half-hidden emotions crossed Claude's eyes. But, in the end, he just shrugged. "I am. I'm no one. I'm Claude Rains. Just ignore me and I'll fade away."
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
Oh, bloody freaking hell. Digging in his pockets with a scowl, Claude slammed down a wad of cash, a few watches, some wallets, another pretzel, half a dozen ink pens, a scarf, and some bird seed in a plastic baggy. "There. Take what you want. But don't bother me with complaining about them; I have what I have and no more."
Thus stated, he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, waiting for judgment.
The Sorting Room appeared to be empty. For a few long moments the application and the quill poised, waiting, seemingly for no one. Then, with a flicker, a man appeared in the center of the room, eyes warily searching the corners before he approached the table.
He was, in a word, scruffy. Worn clothes, shaggy beard and hair, the all over hunched look of someone who didn't sleep in a clean bed every night. Homeless, one might even say. A bum.
Pulling a soft pretzel out of his pocket, he began to absently munch on it while he looked around. "What kind of place is this?" His North London accent was thick and his eyebrow twitched up in an expression that might have been amusement. Or could have just as easily been disgust. It was hard to tell.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Now that question was out of the ordinary. Pausing, looking around one last time, Claude shrugged and slid into the seat, popping the last of the pretzel into his mouth and brushing off his hands.
"Right, okay, cheese." The quill helpfully jotted down his words and Claude let out a snort. "Nice trick." But he looked around again, nervous, before hunching over the application, almost as if to present a smaller target. "Um, well, can't say that I'm much of a connoisseur. Good basket of chips and a beer's all I usually need, you know? Nice steak, whatever I can nick. But if I had to choose, I guess I'd say cheddar of some kind. Versatile, yeah? Lots of things you can do with it. Tastes good on sandwiches."
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
For a moment, Claude remained absolutely still. Then his teeth bared slightly and his eyes tracked the quill, waiting on the parchment. The Company had some odd tricks in its sleeve, but this was weird and random, even for them. He hadn't been followed. He was sure of it. And, so far as he knew, the Company didn't have a presence here. Still, that question made something in him freeze up and it was, with effort, that he relaxed enough to grit out, "Neither. Why bother? Done nothing to me, have they? Live and let live's my motto. Don't make waves. They go about their business and I can keep to mine."
3. What time is it where you are?
"'Bout quarter past three." A faint smile crossed his face as he checked a shiny new Rolax on his wrist. "Unless that fat guy sweating in his suit at the airport didn't kept his watch wound."
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
"Please." Claude snorted loudly and leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs and resting his feet on the desk. Still cautious, gaze still jumping around the room, he nonetheless was amused by the question. "Think I'm going to waste time on harassment? Let me tell you something, friend. People suck. Every last bleeding one of them. Girl, bloke, something in between - they're all going to hold you back, keep you on a leash, and then shove you ass over kettle when they get the chance. Better to go it alone. At least then you're not going to wind up bleeding, with your ass in a sling because you trusted someone you shouldn't. Harassment is more trouble than it's worth."
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
Rolling his eyes, Claude glared down at the parchment. Who the hell had come up with these questions? Some simpering little poodle with a stick of crazy up its ass, probably. Finally huffing out a sigh, Claude answered, "The Coach and Horses." And anyone who didn't get that reference was an idiot.
B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
"Oh, for the love of the mother and her crown!" Standing up in violent temper, Claude scowed down at the paper. "People. People. All you go on about, isn't it? Well, let me tell you - there's no mythology in the world that can erase the simple truth that everyone is just out for themselves. In the end, you're going to get screwed and screwed royal. Got thin soup and that's your supper, nothing you can do. So what does it matter who this Harry ends up with? He's going to get strung on a leash and patted on the head and held down no matter what, and that's the truth. Only way to be free is to get rid of all the people what are clogging up your life. Bah." Collapsing back down into the chair, disgusted, Claude waved his hand. "Better if Harry just disappeared. That's your answer."
C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
"Never said I was smart, friend." Claude had found an apple somewhere in his coat and was now chewing away. "And I don't give a flying pig about your papers. Burn 'em, fill 'em out, throw 'em away. Makes me no mind."
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
Studying the question for a long moment, a variety of half-hidden emotions crossed Claude's eyes. But, in the end, he just shrugged. "I am. I'm no one. I'm Claude Rains. Just ignore me and I'll fade away."
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
Oh, bloody freaking hell. Digging in his pockets with a scowl, Claude slammed down a wad of cash, a few watches, some wallets, another pretzel, half a dozen ink pens, a scarf, and some bird seed in a plastic baggy. "There. Take what you want. But don't bother me with complaining about them; I have what I have and no more."
Thus stated, he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, waiting for judgment.
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no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 08:02 pm (UTC)Claude just stared. "Y-yeah," he stammered, checking out the little green
muppetguy with an expression of bafflement. His normal facade of uncaring annoyance was gone. The Company sure as hell hadn't covered this in the training videos. But, after a minute of gaping, he forced his mouth closed and scowled. "Crazy's preferable to dead, friend, which is what you'll be if you start letting people matter."no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 08:13 pm (UTC)Especially when they're two feet tall and bright green tridactyl beings with bat ears."So sure, are you?" He shook his head sadly, clucking in pity. "Such a shame. So sure they are right, the young always think they are. So sure that only they know what is best, yes." He cocked his head up at Claude and beckoned him over with one gnarled hand. "Come closer, will you? Very rude it is for you to hover like you are. No respect for their elders, this generation has." Half of his rambling statements seemed to be muttered to himself.no subject
Date: 2007-08-16 03:12 am (UTC)At Yoda's request, Claude scratched the back of his head and then looked around the room a bit helplessly. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, crouching down. "No respect, loud music - going to go on, grandpa, or should I just fill in the blanks?"
no subject
Date: 2007-08-16 03:20 am (UTC)Yoda waited until Claude was within arms reach, and then in a move that should have been much too fast for someone his size and age, had brought up his gimer stick cane and smacked Claude on the side of the head. It was less of a blow with intent to harm and more the equivalent of having your hands smacked by a nun--except to the head. And Yoda had no intent of wearing a nun's habit.
"When nine hundred years old you reach, talk to me about no longer being young you can! Think loss and betrayal nobody else has suffered? Oh yes, poor you, the only sentient being in the galaxy who has felt pain you must be. If dwell on your own petty complaints, nothing more than a child you are and nothing more than a child do you deserve to be treated as. Grow up and look past your own nose, you must." Gone was the slightly dotty look of a senile old hermit. Now, he was the formidable teacher of hundreds of generations of Jedi, and he looked it despite his teeny-tiny height. "Something to say for yourself, have you?"
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 07:25 am (UTC)Scowling, Claude rubbed at the lump. "Everybody suffers. I know that. Not like I haven't seen it. You catch glimpses of all the darkness, you watch long enough, when no one knows you're there. People are rotten from the inside, all of them. Only a matter of degrees."
Then he wiped his hand across his nose, scowl deepening. "And I see plenty, friend. Well past my own nose. Just because I watch after it doesn't mean I don't know what else is out there."
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 04:49 pm (UTC)He began pacing, still looking up at Claude every now and then. "Of darkness he speaks. Know plenty of darkness do I. Tell me, boy, of this darkness you have seen."