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Messages Meme

Taken from megamole:

Leave a list of characters in your journal that you would love to get a message from. It is your friends list's mission, should they choose to accept it, to write you an in-character "letter" from a character on that list. Then they post their own list in their journal and the process continues!

I'm interpreting 'character' as historical or fictional, because there are too many of both kinds I don't want to have to leave out. And, indeed, some rather bridge the two categories, as you will see.

1. Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus This-that-and-the-other....
2. Leela from Futurama
3. Christopher Chant
4. Alessandro Moreschi
5. Severus Snape
6. Odysseus
7. Reginald Jeeves
8. Marcus Tullius Cicero
9. Georg Frideric Händel
10. Lord Summerisle

(the_lady_lily, I note your tag, but am saving your meme for a day or two while this one runs its course.)

Comments

( 18 comments — Leave a comment )
mr_flay
Feb. 2nd, 2006 12:37 am (UTC)
Dear Penny,

just a quick line to say I'll be late back from the war; stopped off for a quick snack at Circe's Palace and my men made complete pigs of themselves as usual. Can't wait to be back with you, give Telemachus a kiss for me.

Love,
Odysseus.

P.S. Don't forget to feed Argos!
strange_complex
Feb. 2nd, 2006 10:04 am (UTC)
*sigh*

Really, Odysseus, you stretch a girl's patience! As if it isn't enough that it took you and your men a full ten years just to sack some beastly Asian city. Now you're telling me you can't have the courtesy to come straight home afterwards.

I have to warn you: I can't keep on unpicking this shroud forever. People are starting to get suspicious. And besides, some of the suitors who have been arriving recently are really very wealthy. It isn't fair on poor Telemachus to leave him without a father, and if you won't do the job, there are plenty who will.

Please hurry home before I have to think of some way of picking the best option from the men who are actually here.

Penelope.

P.S. Your dinner is in the Hydra.
mr_flay
Feb. 2nd, 2006 01:39 pm (UTC)
Pen,

now look! We've been over this. If that meathead Menelaus had just listened to me instead of doing his usual chest-pounding gorilla routine, we'd have been out of there in six months tops. And furhermore, if that little tart Helen had just managed to keep her toga on for more than five minutes, none of this mess would have happened in the first place - between you and me, she didn't look all that kidnapped when we got into the palace... Besides, you think I like being sat in a desert for ten years, brushing sand out of my arsecrack and listening to Achilles bang on and on about what a great shag Patroclus is?

Anyway, I'm on my way home now. I can't wait 'till they get the Charybdis bypass finished, the traffic around here is murder. I had to detour through Hades earlier - now that's a nasty little ghost town...

And what's this about picking the best from the ones that are there? I know it's hard on Telly, but Eumaeus has been helping out around the place, hasn't he? And as for how wealthy these suitors are, I hear they haven't exactly been paying for much since they got to Ithaca and started drinking the place dry.

I'm nearly home, honest. Don't worry about dinner, I got a bite to eat at Aeolus'. Gave me terrible wind, though...
Odysseus.

P.S. If I find "Antinoos woz 'ere" carved on a certain olive tree, I will be most unimpressed...
strange_complex
Feb. 2nd, 2006 04:02 pm (UTC)
Ack, I can't really think of another good in-character reply to this. But you, sir, are a genius! It's the bit about the Charybdis bypass I really like.

Thank you for much easing the woes of my cold...
mr_flay
Feb. 2nd, 2006 04:49 pm (UTC)
Gaah! If I'd known you'd wuss out after one go, I wouldn't have held back on jokes regarding learning to dance the Calypso, how Polyphemus couldn't handle his drink, or how these three-piece r'n'b girl bands seem to get everywhere these days, but really sound bloody awful when you listen to the words....
strange_complex
Feb. 2nd, 2006 04:56 pm (UTC)
Ah, apologies, but I'm afraid the nature of the story is that there's far more to say on Odysseus' side than there is on Penelope's. I've pretty much referenced all the major plot points from her point of view already... Plus, cold. And lectures.

Is there seriously some R'n'B trio called the Sirens, then, or something?
mr_flay
Feb. 2nd, 2006 05:10 pm (UTC)
No, but Atomic Kitten, Destiny's Child and The Sugababes all have three members and all sound bloody awful. I know r'n'b is stretching it to describe all three, but I was thinking fast...
megamole
Feb. 2nd, 2006 01:13 pm (UTC)
Dear Penny,

Is life as difficult in 2006 as it is in 3000?

I swear, if you had to put up with colleagues who are such slobs as Fry and Dr. Zoidberg, as old as Farnsworth or as unreasonably cute as Amy, you'd feel as existentially angry as I do. At least Bender excretes *alcohol*.

Still, life isn't all bad - I get to be a ship's captain and I wuv my little Nibbler. I can't believe what Fry's saying about him being some sort of omnipotent being. I think the antigrav pooper-scooper the vet suggested should sort out all those little singularities he leaves as presents for his mom. I just wish he'd stop coughing up ham-balls.

I'd tell you to keep an eye out for good men, but coming from me that would just be a bad joke *sobs*.

We tall, pretty, purple-haired girls have to stick together - come visit sometime, we can take Nibbler walkies past the ham plantation and play with Fry's emotions. And you ought to meet my parents - Mom's tentacle stew is to die for!

Yours,

Turanga Leela.
strange_complex
Feb. 2nd, 2006 01:31 pm (UTC)
play with Fry's emotions

Dear Leela,

Oh, believe me, I can think of some great ways in which we could do that... Amy's welcome, too, if she likes.

I might pass on the tentacle stew, though.

See you in 994 years!

Penny
mrkgnao
Feb. 2nd, 2006 05:19 pm (UTC)
Dear Penelope,

I’m afraid I am not in much of a position to devote time to my correspondence at the moment because I have recently somewhat unconvincingly betrayed all my colleagues following an orgy of textual misdirection, to say nothing of a pile of first year homework sufficient in weight and heft one could use it to beat Longbottom to death. I know that in my new, sexier role as Double Agent of Darkness (I preferred greasy bad-tempered potions master myself, it at least had a pleasing ring of sincerity and rather less screaming fan girls) I ought to be plotting, scheming and possibly even cackling but I think I’ll leave that to the professionals and get on with what I am actually qualified to do … which happens to be grading this homework and making scathing comments in the margins. It makes me sick to my soul to think I’ve been reduced to this. I would like to think I have better things to do with my time and abilities than squander them on tedious adolescents with their sheep like minds, their disgusting hormonal excesses and their appalling spelling. But, as it turns out, I haven’t.

But because of this latest eye-rollingly inept triple-quadruple bluff on the part of the author, I have precious little plot left to me; and, quite frankly, I’m thinking of settling down with a triple-quadruple whiskey and Muzworthy’s Compendium of Fiendishly Advanced Potions and sitting the next book out altogether. I think it’s the only way any of us are likely to escape with our dignity intact. To tell you the truth, Penelope, I’m growing horrendously bored with the whole drawn-out business. One would think, being caught in the middle of a war as we are, there would be ample opportunity for action, adventure and getting ourselves tortured to death but we’re all at the mercy of the over-arching structure and it seems that the world stops turning every time The Boy Who Lived To Be Incompetent At Potions And Yet Always Get Away With It has a school holiday. The rest of the staff are all for taking advantage of the lull. I believe Professor Sprout and Hagrid have gone to Ibiza. I know. Excruciating isn’t it? I suppose I could possibly benefit from a change of air and scenery but, short of visiting Professor McGonagall up in no-civilised-man’s land of remotest Scotland where, apparently, I am always welcome along with running water and the wheel, I have nowhere to go.

And on that optimistic note, Penelope, I really must surrender to the inevitable and return to my marking. I will send you some of the highlights of inanity in my next letter.

Regards,
SS
strange_complex
Feb. 2nd, 2006 05:44 pm (UTC)
Dear Severus,

In exile and still forced to do marking? Talk about getting the worst of both worlds. I had quite imagined you had swanned off to some swanky hide-out where teaching was the last thing on your mind and you were free to indulge in hot, slashy sex with young Malfoy. Sorry to hear it's otherwise.

As for sitting out the next book, I'm afraid I don't fancy your chances. You know perfectly well that it's your destiny to reappear, be redeemed, and then lay down your life heroically in the final conflict. I suggest you enjoy that triple-quadruple whisky while you have the chance. Don't suppose you'd like a drinking companion, would you?

Yours in essay-marking solidarity,

Penelope.
mrkgnao
Feb. 3rd, 2006 10:34 am (UTC)
This is the best game ever!

Dear Penelope

Oh please! You will have me in leather trousers next. The mere idea of shacking up with either Malfoy is enough to make the casual depravity of this latest batch of essays seem trifling. I know it may seem surprising to some that I am continuing, as best I can under the circumstances, to do my job but if the return of the Dark Lord does not interfere with quidditch matches (oh was there ever a more brainless gimmick?) then I see no reason why it should interfere with my marking. I know the way first years think and if they labour under the misapprehension that Hogwarts being overrun with Deatheaters, the demise of the headmaster, their potions master turning traitor and the world dissolving into war and chaos is anything like a sufficient excuse for the arrant folly of most of these essays, well, they would do well to disabuse themselves of it.

I’m sure there is a great deal of speculation as to precisely how I pass my days and nights but I would thank you to firmly quash as the utter nonsense it manifestly is any rumour that couples my name with Malfoy, Lupin, or anyone else for the matter, particularly if they are a teenager and/or repellent (although as a general rule I tend to consider the two states as unalterably intertwined). In truth, I’m rather appreciating the peace, and I assure you that I’m not likely to abandon the principles of a lifetime on a surfeit of solitude and repressed passion. Hah. I’ve never trusted passion. It’s altogether a messy business, and generally inspires people to be more than usually stupid. No, if I have to place my faith in anything, I believe in careful measurements, precise actions, keen observation and rational adaptation. The vagaries of nature can be almost perfectly controlled with sufficient self-discipline. That’s what our Boy Hero keeps refusing to learn. He wears his heart like a bullseye. Merlin, we’re all doomed.

Although, with regard to your gloomy evaluation of my so-called destiny, I should hope that it takes more than authorial malice to dispose of Severus Snape. And as for a drinking companion, I would welcome the distraction but I hope you know me well enough by now not to expect me to be anything other than a greasy git.

Regards,
SS
libellum
Feb. 2nd, 2006 08:28 pm (UTC)
Gah, the spoilers! Still, it's my own fault for being so slow to read the damn thing, and this is wonderful. Especially "remotest Scotland where, apparently, I am always welcome along with running water and the wheel". I am still snickering over that one. Encore!
mrkgnao
Feb. 3rd, 2006 10:38 am (UTC)
*glows* Why thank you kindly - I'm sorry for accidentally spoilering you though. I should have drawn attention to it. This is a ludicrous amount of fun, I think it may just be the best meme ever and I usually hate the things.
swisstone
Feb. 3rd, 2006 09:32 am (UTC)
My dearest Purpurea,

The weather in Britain is terrible. Apparently they have a saying amongst the Cantici - "If you can see Gaul, it's about to rain. If you can't see Gaul, it's raining." What with that and the fog, it's no surprise I've picked up some local ailment which I believe is called 'a stinking cold'. I curse my own foolishness, of course. There was a perfectly good war going on in Africa I could have got involved in. Or I could have invaded Lycia and Pamphylia - they've got good beaches there. But no, I had to let scholarly interest lead the way.

The ferry crossing was horrible, but at least I picked up some good stuff in the duty free. I don't think the elephant enjoyed it much though - and trust me, you never want to observe a seasick elephant. I shall be having words with Guilliemus Acerbus.

Still, the fighting's going well. Had a bit of trouble with the Britons being uncooperative, knocking off at the seventh hour, and not fighting at all two days out of seven. Vespasian (he'll go far, that man) suggested we attack after the seventh hour and on those two days, and since then we've been killing them. Serves them right. The silly people can't even decide how to spell their own names. Cymbeline or Cunobelinus? No-one seems to know.

I'm quite pleased with the latest bit of the 'autobiography'. I've made up some nasty stuff about my grandmother (well, she's dead now, she was a shrew, and it's not as if anyone's ever going to read this). Messalina's asking me to put some racy stuff in for her, and I may well oblige.

Anyway, must go. I've been stuck on the via Londiniensis circularis for a couple of hours, but it looks like we're about to start moving.

Yours,

Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus you know the rest ...

P.S. What's this about Odysseus still not being home?
strange_complex
Feb. 6th, 2006 01:08 pm (UTC)
Mi care Claudi,

Thanks for all the latest news from your campaign. Sorry to hear that Britain is such a wash-out, though. Still, think what fun it will be to extend the pomerium when you get home. And I'm sure the yields from the tin mines will do wonders for the treasury.

How interesting to hear about the fighting habits of the Britunculi. I've heard that they have some frightful national drink they like to partake of in the late afternoon - 'ti', or something, I believe it's called. I hope it's nothing like the brew those villagers up in north-western Gaul used to drink. You remember - the ones who gave your illustrious great-grandfather so much trouble.

I don't know how you find the time for your autobiography, what with all the other fascinating tomes you've produced on subjects like gambling and new letters for the Latin alphabet. Still, I suppose a man needs a little cultured diversion while he's stuck on the far fringes of the civilised world. Are you planning to publish it during your lifetime, or bury it in a lead box somewhere for posterity to discover?

As for Odysseus, he did show his face briefly to set the kingdom in order and get rid of the suitors (pity...). But he's attracted such fame now his travels have been novelised that I've barely seen him since, what with the lecture tours and so on. Still, it brings in the money, and leaves me free to get on with my weaving.

Speaking of which, I suppose I'd better get back to it. Good luck with the rest of your campaign, and I do hope you'll remember to invite us to the triumph.

Vale!

Penelopea Purpurea
swisstone
Feb. 3rd, 2006 10:12 am (UTC)
Lord Summerisle invites you to:

A celebration of the Coming-in of Summer

With singing, dancing, local produce and traditional crafts on display

Summerisle

May 1st

P.S. Please bring own Punch costume
strange_complex
Feb. 6th, 2006 01:10 pm (UTC)
Dear Lord Summerisle,

What do you think I am - some kind of fool?

Besides, my Punch costume is still at the cleaners' after last time. Burnt goat is a devil to shift, you know.

Yours,

Howie.
( 18 comments — Leave a comment )

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