Application for Arthur: Inception
Oct. 6th, 2010 10:51 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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hh_mirrorArthur came into the sorting room carrying his coat, a leather messenger bag, a rolling suitcase, and a sleek silver briefcase. The scowl he was wearing wasn't a result of suddenly ending up here, although it certainly made it deeper.
He had no idea how he'd gotten here, and that was a very bad thing.
He had just been picking up the suitcase at a train station, since the shiny silver screamed "INSPECT ME" in airports and it had to be transported discreetly. Arthur wondered if he'd been grabbed just after that, because he'd been going down into dreams long enough to be able to remember what happened before he went under. The seamless transition from train station to ...castle? ...lair? ...or whatever this was had him on edge. First things first, though. He pulled a red die out of his pocket and walked over to the conveniently placed table in the center of the room. He set the briefcase down (neatly, lined up with one of the table legs) and put his coat over the handle of the suitcase (folded carefully, no wrinkles).
The rolled die came up one number. He rolled it again and it came up the same. Third time, fourth time, and fifth time the same, and he felt more assured that it wasn't statistical probability affecting the outcome.
If the die was right, then that meant reality had gotten weird without bothering to tell him. Arthur did not appreciate that, because reality followed certain patterns, and he could track and record those patterns. When Arthur had facts and data and observations in front of him he was happy, and all was right in the world, even if the data told him that things were going tits up in a hurry and plans would have to change.
If the die was wrong, well, he didn't want to think about that.
The die had raised more questions than it had answered, but at least he had something to go off of and it was time to figure out what to do next. There was a piece of paper and a quill. Arthur read the paper, and his scowl slowly started to turn into a look of bewilderment. The only part that made sense was the bribe, but maybe he could get out of here before it came to that.
He inspected the door (locked, and a few good tugs, swift kicks, a credit card, and even the jackknife lock-pick kit hidden in his suitcase couldn't get it open), and after that the windows (way too high).
The door kicking had left his three piece suit slightly disheveled, and Arthur straightened himself out before continuing. Arthur's composure was held together with hair gel and tailoring, and they hadn't failed him yet. And what tailoring it was. He wore his painstaking attention to detail on his sleeve, as it were. Everything down to his socks and suspenders was coordinated, pressed, shined, and really expensive. Combined with his painfully straight posture, Arthur gave off the vibe of person with a serious stick up his ass.
Now he was a person with a stick up his ass who wanted to shoot something. It was tempting to pull out his gun and put a few bullets in the door, but that was heading down the path of recklessness. So he went back to the table to fill out the form. If things went smoothly (like hell) he could be on his way, but if not he was ready for a fight.
The quill was ignored in favor of the pen Arthur always carried with his ever-present black notebook.
State your full name.
ARTHUR.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
HAVARTI. IT TASTES GOOD ON SANDWICHES.
Actually it was garlic Havarti, but the fewer details he gave out, the better.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney orCarrottop? ^ CARROT TOP
Yes, Arthur corrected the typo in the application. It was habit.
CARROT TOP.
3. What time is it where you are?
10:17
If Arthur had known that his application was shaping up to be one of the more boring ones in recent history, he wouldn't have cared. The questions had not asked where he thought he was, or why Carrot Top, and it was second nature to not give out any more information than was asked for.
The answers were, in fact, that Carrot Top would die because one night, while trying to reset his sleep schedule after a particularly long job, Arthur had ended up watching Chairman of the Board on the hotel TV. The nightmares that resulted had guaranteed the comedian a gruesome, painful death should he ever show up in Arthur's subconscious. And, no matter what his die told him, he strongly suspected that he physically hadn't moved very far from where he'd last been. As for the Havarti, well, that really needed no further explanation. It was good cheese.
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.
If it turned out that this whole thing was a practical joke by Eames, the man was going to die. Repeatedly. And quite possibly in the real world, too.
I WOULD NOT HARASS ANYONE.
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.
THE EDGE.
Derived from limbus, of course. The answer would have been "Arthur's Bar" if the question hadn't specified a witty name. It wasn't that Arthur had no imagination, he just tended to follow the most logical path to reach his answer, If he got to name the bar he most likely owned it, and a bar owned by him would be Arthur's Bar.
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.
It was like college lit all over again. At least he wasn't being graded on it, so he gave a short answer.
IF THIS IS BASED ON MYTH, THEN HARRY SHOULD HAVE NO PROBLEM MARRYING THEM BOTH. POLYGAMY CAN BE FOUND IN MANY MYTHOLOGIES.
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.
YOU'RE PUTTING TOO MUCH TO PAPER AND NOT DISPOSING OF IT PROPERLY.
Paperwork was incriminating evidence, and clutter to boot. Arthur liked his paperwork neatly filed in folders, stapled and collated and hole-punched and indexed to an inch of their lives. Loose, straggling papers, though, were the bane of his existence. When they finished a job he made sure everything was burned.
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
He so very much wanted to write I can kick ass in zero-g, but that would have required context, and it was a skill only good in specific circumstances, anyway.
Arthur was the person who ran point on their jobs, scouting ahead for locations, targets, and potential problems. He could get dirt on anybody and completely cover his tracks when he was done. His job was to know everything, so that the team could get in and out without trouble. Call him a detail-oriented control freak, but his organized and analytical nature made him the best in the business.
Only the bare-bones version went down on paper, though. Anyone who was interested could ask him face-to-face.
I MAKE THINGS RUN SMOOTHLY.
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.
I'M SURE SOMETHING CAN BE WORKED OUT SO I CAN BE ON MY WAY.
Arthur capped the pen and waited. He had some reading material with him (American Journal of Psychology, GQ, Consumer Reports and specs for a fire-proof safe). He flipped the journal open to an article about the effect of odors on memory and waited, one eye on the page, the other on the door.
((Spoiler warning: All of the information in this app can be found in the previews for the movie. There are no spoilers in the application. If a spoiler comes up in the thread, I'll add a warning to the subject line. This promo clip is pretty much all you need to know.))
"I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. _Arthur___________
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _Arthur__________.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _Arthur__________.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _Arthur____________"
He had no idea how he'd gotten here, and that was a very bad thing.
He had just been picking up the suitcase at a train station, since the shiny silver screamed "INSPECT ME" in airports and it had to be transported discreetly. Arthur wondered if he'd been grabbed just after that, because he'd been going down into dreams long enough to be able to remember what happened before he went under. The seamless transition from train station to ...castle? ...lair? ...or whatever this was had him on edge. First things first, though. He pulled a red die out of his pocket and walked over to the conveniently placed table in the center of the room. He set the briefcase down (neatly, lined up with one of the table legs) and put his coat over the handle of the suitcase (folded carefully, no wrinkles).
The rolled die came up one number. He rolled it again and it came up the same. Third time, fourth time, and fifth time the same, and he felt more assured that it wasn't statistical probability affecting the outcome.
If the die was right, then that meant reality had gotten weird without bothering to tell him. Arthur did not appreciate that, because reality followed certain patterns, and he could track and record those patterns. When Arthur had facts and data and observations in front of him he was happy, and all was right in the world, even if the data told him that things were going tits up in a hurry and plans would have to change.
If the die was wrong, well, he didn't want to think about that.
The die had raised more questions than it had answered, but at least he had something to go off of and it was time to figure out what to do next. There was a piece of paper and a quill. Arthur read the paper, and his scowl slowly started to turn into a look of bewilderment. The only part that made sense was the bribe, but maybe he could get out of here before it came to that.
He inspected the door (locked, and a few good tugs, swift kicks, a credit card, and even the jackknife lock-pick kit hidden in his suitcase couldn't get it open), and after that the windows (way too high).
The door kicking had left his three piece suit slightly disheveled, and Arthur straightened himself out before continuing. Arthur's composure was held together with hair gel and tailoring, and they hadn't failed him yet. And what tailoring it was. He wore his painstaking attention to detail on his sleeve, as it were. Everything down to his socks and suspenders was coordinated, pressed, shined, and really expensive. Combined with his painfully straight posture, Arthur gave off the vibe of person with a serious stick up his ass.
Now he was a person with a stick up his ass who wanted to shoot something. It was tempting to pull out his gun and put a few bullets in the door, but that was heading down the path of recklessness. So he went back to the table to fill out the form. If things went smoothly (like hell) he could be on his way, but if not he was ready for a fight.
The quill was ignored in favor of the pen Arthur always carried with his ever-present black notebook.
State your full name.
ARTHUR.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
HAVARTI. IT TASTES GOOD ON SANDWICHES.
Actually it was garlic Havarti, but the fewer details he gave out, the better.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or
Yes, Arthur corrected the typo in the application. It was habit.
CARROT TOP.
3. What time is it where you are?
10:17
If Arthur had known that his application was shaping up to be one of the more boring ones in recent history, he wouldn't have cared. The questions had not asked where he thought he was, or why Carrot Top, and it was second nature to not give out any more information than was asked for.
The answers were, in fact, that Carrot Top would die because one night, while trying to reset his sleep schedule after a particularly long job, Arthur had ended up watching Chairman of the Board on the hotel TV. The nightmares that resulted had guaranteed the comedian a gruesome, painful death should he ever show up in Arthur's subconscious. And, no matter what his die told him, he strongly suspected that he physically hadn't moved very far from where he'd last been. As for the Havarti, well, that really needed no further explanation. It was good cheese.
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.
If it turned out that this whole thing was a practical joke by Eames, the man was going to die. Repeatedly. And quite possibly in the real world, too.
I WOULD NOT HARASS ANYONE.
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.
THE EDGE.
Derived from limbus, of course. The answer would have been "Arthur's Bar" if the question hadn't specified a witty name. It wasn't that Arthur had no imagination, he just tended to follow the most logical path to reach his answer, If he got to name the bar he most likely owned it, and a bar owned by him would be Arthur's Bar.
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.
It was like college lit all over again. At least he wasn't being graded on it, so he gave a short answer.
IF THIS IS BASED ON MYTH, THEN HARRY SHOULD HAVE NO PROBLEM MARRYING THEM BOTH. POLYGAMY CAN BE FOUND IN MANY MYTHOLOGIES.
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.
YOU'RE PUTTING TOO MUCH TO PAPER AND NOT DISPOSING OF IT PROPERLY.
Paperwork was incriminating evidence, and clutter to boot. Arthur liked his paperwork neatly filed in folders, stapled and collated and hole-punched and indexed to an inch of their lives. Loose, straggling papers, though, were the bane of his existence. When they finished a job he made sure everything was burned.
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
He so very much wanted to write I can kick ass in zero-g, but that would have required context, and it was a skill only good in specific circumstances, anyway.
Arthur was the person who ran point on their jobs, scouting ahead for locations, targets, and potential problems. He could get dirt on anybody and completely cover his tracks when he was done. His job was to know everything, so that the team could get in and out without trouble. Call him a detail-oriented control freak, but his organized and analytical nature made him the best in the business.
Only the bare-bones version went down on paper, though. Anyone who was interested could ask him face-to-face.
I MAKE THINGS RUN SMOOTHLY.
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.
I'M SURE SOMETHING CAN BE WORKED OUT SO I CAN BE ON MY WAY.
Arthur capped the pen and waited. He had some reading material with him (American Journal of Psychology, GQ, Consumer Reports and specs for a fire-proof safe). He flipped the journal open to an article about the effect of odors on memory and waited, one eye on the page, the other on the door.
((Spoiler warning: All of the information in this app can be found in the previews for the movie. There are no spoilers in the application. If a spoiler comes up in the thread, I'll add a warning to the subject line. This promo clip is pretty much all you need to know.))
"I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. _Arthur___________
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _Arthur__________.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _Arthur__________.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _Arthur____________"
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Date: 2010-10-07 10:00 am (UTC)Jherek Carnelian had been wandering about the school, making the occasional aesthetic 'improvements' to his surroundings. On the whole, these various transfigurations were actually improvements, and served to reduce the general cold stuffiness of the castle's stone walls. But, the house-elves were often inclined to disagree with this choices in this regard, and so a few were following behind him, transfiguring things back to 'normal' after he'd passed. Fixing a wing of the 6th story which Jherek had turned mostly translucent had been particularly time-consuming, but the house-elves never actually complained to him about his transfiguration-practice. Not only were his transfigurations exceptionally well-done, it might have hurt his feelings, and, given his 'generosity' with the house-elves, the majority of them had no desire to do this. Many a female house-elf, and a few of the males, had been far more content since the arrival of the sexually-relaxed denizen of the End of Time.
Jherek had grown slightly tired of his usually-favoured white on this particular occasion, and, had left his room in an elaborate robe (apparently) made from the scales of a 77th century reptilian inhabitant of a world somewhere near the Pleiades, which shimmered in resplendent shades of blue. To match this, he'd tinted his hair a deep and lustrous cobalt, and his lips and eyes a bright robin's egg color- for a finishing touch, he'd coloured his skin nearly white, but with the slightest hint of icy blue. Jherek was fond of single-color ensembles. By the time his random wanderings had brought him to the Sorting Room, he'd added to his ensemble, now accessorized by a swarm of tiny, jewel-like dragonflies he'd copied from some he'd seen by the lake. The talking portrait of a quite-stylish witch he'd passed (and flirted with a for a moment) had inspired him to add a sparkling blue wizard's hat, adorned with a tiny blue songbird which sat upon the jauntily-angled brim.
When he strode into the Sorting Room to see who might be there, Jherek was feeling like the epitome of fashion. When he saw Arthur, however, with his perfectly coordinated, pressed and tailored outfit, all perfectly arranged and perfectly presented, Jherek decided that he had to concede to the newcomer's sense of taste. Why, surely his outfit was directly from the late 20th or early 21st century, and if not, it appeared to be a precise replica. Given that they were in the 21st century, that the man was an actual native seemed likely to Jherek. It was of course required that he make the acquaintance of any newcomer with such a fine sense of style, and so Jherek swept towards him in a billowing of blue and a whirring of dragonfly wings, doffing his hat as he performed an elaborate and entirely affected bow. He skipped over the application entirely- as Jherek couldn't read, there was little point to looking at it. "Welcome, sir!" Jherek greeted Arthur with exuberance and a smile. "Welcome to Castle Hogwarts! I must compliment you upon your costume. Are you a native of this era?"
no subject
Date: 2010-10-07 10:29 am (UTC)Sometimes he forgets that other people don't attach the same meaning to their clothes that he does. When he looks at Jherek, though, he sees a person he wants absolutely nothing to do with.
"I--" Costume? What? "Yes, I am a native," he says slowly, trying to parse Jherek's question as he answers it.
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Date: 2010-10-07 11:19 am (UTC)But, he'd yet to figure out the subtleties of communication in the era he'd found himself in. Many of the 'ancients', as he thought of them, seemed to take issue with him, but, he'd continued to put this down to the usual reaction of time travellers to those of his era. That he was not greeted with a smile as enthusiastic as his own did not dissuade Jherek- rather, he thought that he'd startled Arthur somehow. That his presence might have been offensive had yet to come to mind- the only thing that those of Time's End found offensive was whatever they deemed to be bad taste at that moment. He smiled even more brightly at Arthur's reply, saying, "I suppose that if you are a native of this time, Castle Hogwarts must seem dull. But, I am delighted to make your acquaintance, sir! I've always been enchanted by this time period and its admirable aesthetics." He was more specifically interested in the 19th century, but by his standards, the 21st was so close as to be considered contemporary with it. "Are the boxes an important part of your ensemble, sir? The cities never mentioned these." By 'boxes' Jherek meant the rolling suitcase and silver briefcase, and he indicated these with a bejeweled hand.
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Date: 2010-10-16 07:45 am (UTC)In a different time or place, this meeting of the minds might have led to a dialog about the importance of dress. In the right mood, Arthur could wax lyrical about pattern, proportion, palette, and how a tweak in one of these or any other thing could mean the difference between being sharp and being slovenly. How the knot of a tie or a change of cuff links could impart an outfit with a whole new meaning. How first impressions, no matter how shallow, were not something to ignore. (It always amazed him how many people wanted their first impression to be, "Hello, I picked up this shirt off my bedroom floor.")
Instead, Jherek's gushing only inspired Arthur to be more reticent. He didn't like trying to compete with more flamboyant personalities. If he stayed quiet enough, he'd be left to his own devices eventually.
"No, they're not part of my ensemble. They're my luggage."
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Date: 2010-10-20 09:33 am (UTC)As his appearance at Hogwarts had been Jherek's first personal experience involving time-travel, Arthur's 'boxes' were his first experience with the concept of luggage. Jherek would eventually encounter luggage again, and the incidents that followed would assure he'd feel a sense of vague discomfort around anyone who carried it. But, he had no reason yet to suspect any of Arthur's motives, his reaction to the revelation of the box's identity was met with nothing but fascinated approval and curiosity. "Luggage, you say? Oh, splendid! Is there a reason for them? I hope you don't mind if I make one for myself."
Had Jherek realized that he was irritating Arthur, he'd have left of straight away- Jherek was the very soul of thoughfulness, if given the opportunity. However, people from times other than his own bizarre and decadent period tended to misunderstand his attempts at friendliness. Likewise, he tended to misinterpret less-than-favorable reactions to himself when they were voiced politely- reading beneath an immediate exterior wasn't anything that Jherek usually had to bother with, so he had no practice at this at all. If he had, he most likely wouldn't have pulled out the wand he'd obtained from the box in Ancient Runes, invented a bit of gibberish (he'd deducted this as 'important' for the operation of the oddly shaped transmutation device), and pointed the wand with far more of a flourish than necessary at a cluster of his birds, which quickly reconstituted themselves into 'a luggage'. Jherek's was bright blue to match his ensemble, and, almost humorously large. And of course, he looked to Arthur with a smile, presuming he'd take the bit of inspired transfiguration as a compliment.