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: 2007-08-16 04:18 pm (UTC)"No 'Mr. Rains', check," she said. "Gotta tell you, I liked him better in Casablanca anyway. I suppose it'd be stupid to ask you which house sounds best to you, so which of the following annoys you the least: bravery, helpfulness, intelligence or cunning? More importantly, do you want to be in a house with a bar, or without?"
She was half-tempted, as always when it came to particularly angry or angsty sortees, to vote him into Sparklypoo.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 07:02 am (UTC)"What kind of question is that?" Claude peered at her suspiciously for a moment. She didn't seem like the Company type; then again, he wasn't stupid enough to trust anything or anyone until he knew for sure. "Well, can't beat smarts into someone, can you? Brave is just another word for too stupid to get out of the way, and people who claim to be 'helpful' usually just want to shove you back down once you've climbed up. And cunning?" He snorted. "Now that's what everyone is, yeah? Out for themselves and two pennies to a pound if you get in the way. If you've got half a brain, you're golden. Anything else and you might as well just give up now."
Vote: Bitchiwitch
Date: 2007-08-18 06:06 pm (UTC)Not giving Claude enough time to get a word in edgewise, Dawn went on. "In other words, I don't think you're right for Ravenclaw and the other houses will only annoy you. Therefore, Bitchiwitch. Enjoy! Also, take a bath." She turned on her heel and walked away, tossing a parting shot over her shoulder. "By the way, I'm older than I look. A lot older."