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Mr Jonathan Strange
17 May 2008 @ 11:16 pm
It has been some time since the Mansion has seen hide or hair of Mr. Jonathan Strange. It's hard to believe that a man could possibly remain so long (three months, indeed, is quite a long time!) in a library, but if any man might possibly be capable of such a feat, it would be Strange.

Regardless, when he finally emerges, looking somewhat paler and thinner than the last time he was seen by mortal eyes (or even most immortal, presumably), to look rather lost and dazed in a brightly lamp-lit Mansion corridor, it is undeniably more than three months later than the last time he was seen by any of the building's residents.

Typist: This seems redundant. But. Open, hi-I'm-back, and anti-otp post.
Mr Jonathan Strange
The morning after his second meeting with the gentleman with thistle-down hair, as the sun rises, Jonathan will find its light penetrating and dispelling the cone of darkness. The first clock that he sees will read 6:15 precisely.

Jonathan Strange stands at the window of the bedroom he shares (or, at least, shared last night, having actually left the library at a reasonable hour for once) with Arabella, looking out over the sun-drenched lawn and gardens below. Outside, it is a beautiful summer morning, and the first morning of any sort that he has seen in a very long time. It is just possible that there are tears in his eyes. Maybe.
Mr Jonathan Strange
A few days following his futile meeting with the gentleman with thistle-down hair, Jonathan Strange can be found in the library of the Mansion. He is alone, standing before the fireplace. There are several candles and lamps all around, attempting to provide some light.

He has not taken an elixir of madness this time, but hopes that his summoning will work, just the same. After all, it is no spell, no madness, no magic at all, but simply a cleared throat and a careful 'Sir? Ah - if you would be so kind - I wish to speak to you,' called into the air, following which Jonathan looks about as foolish as he feels (especially when he realises that he does not know the fairy's name to call him by).

'...please?' he adds, when nothing appears to be happening.
Mr Jonathan Strange
16 June 2007 @ 09:24 pm
It is the next morning -- not that that means much, in this continuing darkness. Jonathan Strange, however, has gotten very good at estimating the time of day without the guidance of sunlight, or, indeed, any sort of light, and when he judges it to be roughly seven o'clock in the morning, he rises from his bed (upon which he has lain, all night, on top of the covers, still fully clothed and still fully awake) and automatically goes to the table to light a candle.
Mr Jonathan Strange
02 May 2007 @ 01:48 am
From the notes of Mr Jonathan Strange, 2 May 1820 - or thereabouts.

I have not neglected my studies since arriving in this place (the inhabitants call it simply The Mansion, as though it is beyond names or ad-dresses); the building, whose exact geography still seems uncertain and quite prone to unexpected alterations, houses the most magnificent library, even more wonderful than anything Norrell could have accumulated at Hertfew Abbey. I have discovered books on every sort of fantastic subject, from texts on dragon-herding to truly imaginative, bizarre novels, to treatises on a most mysterious subject referred to as Automobile Repair (an automobile, I believe, from what I have gleaned from these texts, is some sort of carriage which moves at a tremendous pace without any horses or, indeed, any external force at all, moving on some form of magic called eclecticity elastiricity well, I seem to have misplaced my notes on the subject, but called something or other.

The residents are very nearly as interesting as the books which they, for the most part, seem horribly to neglect. Really, a most...interesting population! I shall look forward to conversing with as many of the odder ones as I am able, though of course the library shall come first, and shall doubtless prove a much more honest source of information.
Mr Jonathan Strange
23 April 2007 @ 10:11 pm
Addressed to Mrs Arabella Strange, and spelled to slip under her door, whatever room she may be in at the time that the letter should happen to be dispatched.

The letter, excluding the rushed-through formalities, reads as follows.Collapse )
Mr Jonathan Strange
20 April 2007 @ 09:59 pm
From the notes of Mr Jonathan Strange, 20 April 1820 - possibly.

Our latest spell (a combination of Belasis and Ormskirk, naturally modified considerably, and with a hefty dose of Sutton-Grove's Naming charms, despite my assertion that this addition would only null the useful effect from Ormskirk; but Norrell insisted) appears to have been successful...to a degree. Though the Darkness still surrounds me, the success has come in another form: by severing the bond which ties Norrell and I together. Somehow, though whether it's because or in spite of our tinkering with Sutton-Grove, we've managed to cause the Darkness to distinguish between we two English magicians. At least, I believe so; as Norrell is nowhere to be found, I suppose it must have worked.

As for myself, I seem to be in some kingdom of Faerie, though it's a very queer kingdom, if so. I have encountered one or two persons who seem to be of the magical, highly irrational nature of the Sidhe, and one or two more who, it seems, might be captured humans, one a gentlewoman and one a very confused-appearing young man. None of them seem to have anything enlightening to tell me about this kingdom, which they refer to as simply 'The Mansion.' If those with magic are truly fairies, they seem to be of a very weak and inferior sort.

I have also found Arabella.