George Villiers, 1st Duke of Buckingham (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
airshipswank) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2013-08-29 03:06 am
airshipswank) wrote in entranceway2013-08-29 03:06 am
{action/video} The latest trend is collecting art.
{ I. ACTION } [ George Villiers, created Duke of Buckingham by His Majesty King James VI and I of England and Scotland, is always, always dressed to impressed, but today he is dressed for battle as well. In an impressive sort of way. Naturally.
After a solid three weeks of absence he has finally returned to Wonderland, although he himself has yet to realise it. Surveying the waters of (what he believes to be) the English Channel through his spyglass Buckingham gives a startled hiss when he lowers the tool and finds himself standing not on board of one of his many majestic ships, but on the creaking wooden dock of a beach, which... glimpsed at the corner of his eye... strangely... yet certainly... becomes more and more familiar as the memories come seeping back to him.
The duke cringes and turns around. Slowly. As if hoping that the sight in the direction opposite the ocean would be something other than--
A mansion.
Buckingham groans and rubs his forehead, before marching off across the ground, wondering just how much time has passed... ]
{ II. ACTION } [ Ascalon is not in his room, but that only vexes until Buckingham finds him in the regular stables, well-fed, content and... perhaps not impeccably groomed, but certainly looking well enough. He leads the horse back to his own stable, deciding to contemplate his temporary lodgings and grooming later.
Buckingham finds his own room empty, but that state is remedied swiftly enough, its splendour returning in a heartbeat. Only some personal items appear to be missing, which is why the duke makes his way to the attic, having heard rumours of its purpose in retaining what is no longer needed by owners that have vanished.
In the end he finds everything, and retrieves nothing. The model of his airship in a bottle, once flaunted with pride, leaves a sour taste in his mouth when the burn on his back is still fresh, the memories of the Musketeers' attack once more too vivid in his mind. A soft and luxuriously red Thneed, too dusty and tattered to be of use still. And finally, after prolonged searching, the grand portrait of his likeness, stored carelessly, its canvas slashed in the middle.
Suppose he'll need to find some manner of replacement, in addition to catching up on Wonderland's most recent news.... ]
{ III. VIDEO } [ And so his last act for the day, once he has changed into something more suitable, is to casually show himself on the network, as though he never left for even a day! ]
We have... artists here, I imagine? Painters, at least one of them, I should hope. I'll have a small task for them, should they be interested in ways to pass their time, or... earn a reward.
[[OOC: Whoops, that took me a bit longer than I imagined, but Buckingham is finally back. Anybody who wants to interact with him can either run into his action thingies in I and II, or answer his transmission in III.]]
After a solid three weeks of absence he has finally returned to Wonderland, although he himself has yet to realise it. Surveying the waters of (what he believes to be) the English Channel through his spyglass Buckingham gives a startled hiss when he lowers the tool and finds himself standing not on board of one of his many majestic ships, but on the creaking wooden dock of a beach, which... glimpsed at the corner of his eye... strangely... yet certainly... becomes more and more familiar as the memories come seeping back to him.
The duke cringes and turns around. Slowly. As if hoping that the sight in the direction opposite the ocean would be something other than--
A mansion.
Buckingham groans and rubs his forehead, before marching off across the ground, wondering just how much time has passed... ]
{ II. ACTION } [ Ascalon is not in his room, but that only vexes until Buckingham finds him in the regular stables, well-fed, content and... perhaps not impeccably groomed, but certainly looking well enough. He leads the horse back to his own stable, deciding to contemplate his temporary lodgings and grooming later.
Buckingham finds his own room empty, but that state is remedied swiftly enough, its splendour returning in a heartbeat. Only some personal items appear to be missing, which is why the duke makes his way to the attic, having heard rumours of its purpose in retaining what is no longer needed by owners that have vanished.
In the end he finds everything, and retrieves nothing. The model of his airship in a bottle, once flaunted with pride, leaves a sour taste in his mouth when the burn on his back is still fresh, the memories of the Musketeers' attack once more too vivid in his mind. A soft and luxuriously red Thneed, too dusty and tattered to be of use still. And finally, after prolonged searching, the grand portrait of his likeness, stored carelessly, its canvas slashed in the middle.
Suppose he'll need to find some manner of replacement, in addition to catching up on Wonderland's most recent news.... ]
{ III. VIDEO } [ And so his last act for the day, once he has changed into something more suitable, is to casually show himself on the network, as though he never left for even a day! ]
We have... artists here, I imagine? Painters, at least one of them, I should hope. I'll have a small task for them, should they be interested in ways to pass their time, or... earn a reward.
[[OOC: Whoops, that took me a bit longer than I imagined, but Buckingham is finally back. Anybody who wants to interact with him can either run into his action thingies in I and II, or answer his transmission in III.]]
I. ACTION :)
(not that that's any excuse, Cindy's Daddy)so it's not like they have any reason to keep hanging around it!So what, what compelled these land dwellers, these parasites, to continue to stomp around on her roof? Even if it was only a temporary shelter, it was still -- rude! Annoying! Stupid! Angering!!!
... But fortunately for this trespasser, she is tired. Because sleeping in a diving suit is uncomfortable enough without everyone on the surface stamping their feet over her head.
And, y'know, even with her cover blown a little already, she's trying to keep the damage minimal.
The most she musters is a quiet, hissing growl to herself, before she sits up enough to pound her fist against the underside of the dock.]
[THUNK THUNK.]
[It might not be as impressive as a screech or a dramatic leap out of the water, nor as subtle as, say, stalking them
to their home and stealing their children, but give her a break okay she's tired.]1/2
The sinking feeling of cold dread settling into his stomach doesn't harmonise well with sharp and startling knocks, no matter how unimpressive they may seem to others. To Buckingham they are just enough cause to turn sharply on his heels and sprint - stumble, actually - across the wooden planks, until his boots kick up sand.
He turns around then, and breathes sharply, eyes darting across the water with frightened anger, but from where he stands the sea appears calm. ]
2/2
no subject
But, as she settles down again for her nap - she sees a shape at the shore, through the water and shadows.
It's pointing a gun at her.
She isn't surprised - just angrier. The surface world was full of mean people, and now here's yet another pointing a weapon at her. She's getting sick of it. She's tired. She wasn't even outside, this time! She was hiding, but they're still finding her! She growls to herself and begins to move: Forget hiding, it seems she needs to educate someone again.
Hopefully, they'll learn a little easier.]
[A bright, round red light switches on in the darkness beneath the dock, and it moves. Away from the dock, for a moment, but then towards shore, and then there isn't a lot of distance before it's too shallow to properly swim through.
There's a shape emerging from the water, but it's certainly not Athos. It's
prettiersexier... taller? Yes, taller. It's metal and rusty and it's striding towards Buckingham, possibly not unlike how he had been before: determined, aggravated, and with intent.]no subject
prettysexybroad in built as Athos... or anyone he knows, who might match the frame.Another person then, if-- If it is a person at all.
He swallows, and tries not to show it. When the red light appeared he had lowered his gun to observe it, and to take a step away. But now that it's here... the weapon hangs uncertainly in his hand, half lowered, half drawn.
The creature's posture is not one for an amicable greeting. And his heavy armour is not one for agile combat movements.
Buckingham's boots dig into the sand. He lowers his weapon and raises his chin. ]
And what are you supposed to be?
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SCREEEEEAH!
[Roughly translating.]
[The hypodermic spear stays to the side - the other hand comes up, plants against Buckingham's chest, and shoves with more strength than her frame might suggest. Quite a bit more, since she's trying to knock him over.
His armour might look pretty, but she's better.]
no subject
Welcome back, I suppose.
no subject
But what follows now is relief: At least one of them is still here and has, perhaps, never even left Wonderland at all. The thought is enough to make the duke smile. ]
My thanks to you! I hope you've not... missed me too much. You and-- the others are still here as well, I trust.
no subject
[He doesn't know why Buckingham is fishing, but it smells like fishing. So he asks innocently, as though he can't begin to fathom whom the Duke might be curious about.]
II [action]
While she finds his company enjoyable, the two of them have only chatted a handful of times. She doesn't make a habit of stopping by his room or sending him messages over her mobile, and with the way the events have gone lately, she's been too busy to give it much thought.
So when she runs into him on the stairwell -- she's going down, he's heading up -- she's shocked, but not for the right reasons.
Because someone is dressed to impress. Buckingham is wearing something closer to armor -- still as elaborate as his normal outfits, but something clearly meant for battle. Martha pauses on the stairwell landing and looks him over before she places a hand on her hip.] What's the occasion? You're a bit late for the hellhounds.
[action]
The occasion is rather far away, I'm afraid, but Wonderland... would not permit my change into something more appropriate before it called me back.
[ He remembers the hellhounds' appearance as if it was yesterday, because it was yesterday, from all he can understand. He listened to their howls by the forest, held tight to Ascalon's reins when their mere presence upset the animal beyond his control. He laid out salt, listened to the advice given to him for a change, and whoever fell victim to the infernal dogs, Buckingham was not one of them.
And then, one morning, they were gone. And a few hours later the duke was as well. And now? Judging by Miss Jones' reaction he must have been gone for a few days at most, which would certainly fit his memory: At home he does not recall more than a few minutes passing. ]
[action]
You were gone?
[Now Martha does feel a bit guilty that she hadn't even realized, but it's not as if anyone had mentioned it over the network, either. She decides not to draw too much attention to it. While she isn't all that caught up in Buckingham's pride and whether or not it would be hurt by the admittance, the fact still remains that she should have been more aware.]
Have you come back with a new set of memories, then? [That's what always seems to happen, although in terms of age Buckingham looks exactly the same. Not that much time could have passed for him back home, in that case.
What had he been up to, that armor had been necessary? She may just need to question that a bit further, if he doesn't provide the information on his own.]
Act III - Video
...oh, wait, no, sorry. The narration exaggerated.]
Back so soon.
[He did notice the disappearance - that's not something he could have missed. Though it isn't because he cared.]
And celebrating your vanity already.
Video~
Ahh, but I could not possibly have kept you waiting a moment longer!
[ Buckingham grins widely, but the gesture is strained. ]
Yet you already mistake my intent, it is merely... the artist's skill I wish to celebrate. I've been made a wonderful gift by a most talented young man, but sadly it appears that... it has suffered much the same fate as he.
[ He runs a gloved finger across the slashed painting, which he has yet to discard. ]
You remember him, don't you? George. He was... quite fond of you, if I recall.
Video~
I remember him.
[Notice how Athos says nothing of George's liking for him; he recalls it all too well, a worrisome adoration, a near-obsession...
...but a marvelous painter and artisan, nonetheless. Enough so that he might be forgiven for his faults.]
I was not aware he had taken leave of Wonderland.
( video )
What is it that you wish to capture for the generations to come?
( video )
[ He grins. A saying, nothing more, but oh, quite the inconvenient feature that would be. Littering half of Europe with bastards is one thing, there is enough room to manoeuvre and deny, but the same inconvenience in one tiny mansion? God forbid!
...Still, that is not actually why Buckingham stops to muse on the phrase. Only that face-- Not quite new, is it? They've not spoken before, he is certain, but he did see him before, did he not? On the network. Back when-- No, he can't recall.
Well. Suppose he can think on that another time. ]
Ahh, but I've not thought on it yet. I had... quite the collection at home, and it occurs to me that I miss it. The vendors would have suitable replacements, I trust, but it is just... not quite the same. So I suppose what I wish depends... entirely on what the artist might have to offer.
[ A commission made for himself alone is the very least the duke could demand! ]
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And if the local artists' skills prove insufficient? Will you pick up the brush yourself?
[ judging by those clothes he might have some artist in him. ]
video;
video;
[ Different brushes for different desires, personally he finds that he'd miss out on the best if he let a stern master of portraits paint Paris in spring. ]
video;