Character meme

[pegkerr]

Gacked from bookshop, and this is really a great one:

Leave a list of fictional characters in your journal that you would love to get a message from. It is your friend-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!

1. Lord Miles Naismith Vorkosigan (Lois McMaster Bujold)
2. Lady Ekaterin Vorkosigan (Lois McMaster Bujold)
3. Lord Ivan Vorpatril (Lois McMaster Bujold)
4. Anne Elliot (Jane Austen's Persuasion)
5. Sophy Stanton-Lacy from Georgette Heyer's The Grand Sophy
6. Janet from pameladean's Tam Lin
7. The Phouka from coffeeem's War for the Oaks
8. Uriah Heep from Dicken's David Copperfield
9. Elinor Dashwood (Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility)
10. Marianne Dashwood (Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility)
11. Elizabeth Bennet (Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice)
12. Samwise Gamgee
11. Frodo Baggins
12. Merry Brandybuck
13. Pippin Took
14. Gandalf the Grey
15. Lucy Pevensie from the Narnia books
16. Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables)
17. Bertie Wooster
18. lupercus (from nocturne_alley)
19. potions_master (from nocturne_alley)
20. Richard Sharpe
21. The favorite fictional character of all of you.

Comments

[incandescens]

My dear Peg,

As Mother has pointed out more than once, I am a bad correspondent. Sorry, m'dear; you are one of the few people I genuinely regret forgetting to write to. But really, things have been incredibly busy of late. My mother -- my own mother -- going off with Simon Illyan, of all people!

(Did I mention this last time? Things have been a bit fraught; Miles declares that I was mentioning it in every letter I wrote for the last three months, which I feel is exaggerating, but then m'lord Auditor has always been prone to exaggeration. You know Miles.)

Delighted to hear that your daughters are keeping up their fitness training. I've always been in favour of it, ever since I got to see the result it produced in the Koudelka girls. But do try not to get too fraught yourself; my mother always tells me that a certain level of physical comfort helps keep the mind steady and decisions unbiased. (Or at least, she would do, before she went off with blasted Simon Illyan. Excuse me.)

I still live in hope of another assignation assignment to the Cetagandan Empire. They seem to be getting a bit more open these days, and, well, I do cherish very warm memories of my last visit. I have no doubt that without my cousin present, there would be far fewer assassination attempts, conspiracies, and general hell for all involved.

Or perhaps Gregor should arrange for Miles' new daughter to be one of the next Empresses. Shake them up for a change, I say.

Yours with the sincerest and most constant affection,

Ivan Vorpatril

PS: Miles insists that I enclose the following packet, which he claims will mean something to you. My advice is to stick it under cold water for at least ten minutes before opening. And boil it. That deals with most explosives. If it should happen to be illegible after all that, I think that's what they call a win-win situation.

[(Anonymous)]

Ivan, you idiot!

Miles

[(Anonymous)]

What did I say? What did I say??

Ivan

[incandescens]

(laughs out loud)

#3

[slrose.livejournal.com]

Dear Mrs. Kerr:

I am so terribly sorry to hear you are in the hospital.

When my cousin Miles asked me to find a home for some kittens, I thought that your adorable little girls would like the adorable little things.

I didn't know you were allergic.

I am taking the girls to tea to compensate them for the loss of the kittens.

My cousin's cook will also give them a basket of goodies to share with you.

And don't worry about the hospital bill; it's taken care of.

Sincerely yours.

Ivan Vorpatril

[morganmalfoy.livejournal.com]

Right ho! Well, I've decided that visiting New York once was enough to get me in quite a few pickles, though I did manage to make a few matches as usual. You know, my friends all say I'm a splendid problem solver, they always consult me on their problems, particularly those of the lovey-dovey whatnot sort. Anyway, I simply have to get away from Aunt Agatha, she's after me AGAIN to be married, to settle down, to get a job, and so I've decided to come visit you in Minnesota. It sounds jolly nice, make a few ice sculptures with the lads, drink a bit of tea, wear whatever Jeeves says is the right suit for such occasions and experience a bit of the American mid-west. I might know a few piano pieces about that. And I'm sure there's some Yank version of the Drones where I can play a good game of darts, so I'll just have Jeeves pack me up! Off to luncheon now, having a day with Eustace!

Toodle Pip!

-Bertie

[dichroic.livejournal.com]

RETURN TO SENDER: Addressee deceased.

Lucy Pevensie

That night, in a dream: Of course I'm not deceased! I'm in Narnia, the true Narnia, all the way in. Dear Peg, I can't tell you what a joy it's been to be able to walk with Aslan whenever I want, and never have him go away! To romp with the Professor and Aunt Polly, who are not old any more. And to finally be able to tell Mother and Father, and to show then through Cair Paravel. I still enjoy prowling through the treasury, but now the diamond bottle And Susan has joined us!

Lu

[dichroic.livejournal.com]

I tried first to write in Anne Shirley's voice, at a point when Nan and Di were near Fiona and Delia's age - and you know what, I just couldn't do it. I hadn't realized how little she actually talks about motherhood, or in fact at all, anywhere after Anne's House of Dreams.

[dichroic.livejournal.com]

Oops - should say "... the diamond bottle sits on a shelf there, because I will never need to use it again."

I wish comments were editable!

#7

[naomikritzer]

Written on postcard with picture of Golden Gate bridge, with British stamps, postmarked from Beijing.

"Dear Peg: Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here!"

Signed with tiny drawing of black dog.

[moony]

Sadly, according to jadedsirius there were no letters addressed to you among lupercus's papers, though there was a short note to Neville Longbottom that read simply:

Neville,

You are strong.

-R J L

I've no idea in what context the note was in, or even when it was written, but I thought you might know how to reach Neville and pass it along to him.

As for potions_master, he has only this to say:

Mrs Kerr,

I have absolutely nothing of import to say to you, as you are Muggle and therefore utterly and completely useless. Please find something better to do with your time than pester me for pointless missives. I have work to do.

- S. Snape

...well, you did ask, Peg. ;-)

[naomikritzer]

Dear Peg,

This is something of an awkward letter to write. Letters like this are always awkward -- for me, anyway. I think my idiot cousin may find them easier. Certainly he has more experience with ladies than I do. Ahem.

So, here's my news: I'm married. Quite happily, to a lovely lady. I'm sure you're not bothered in the least by this fact, as you moved on with your own life quite some years ago, and in fact have a husband with whom (so far as I have heard) you are quite satisfied, and two (lovely! have I mentioned lately how beautiful your children are?) daughters. And of course this is what makes this kind of letter so awkward: by taking the trouble to inform you personally of my recent matrimony, I'm implying that you would care about this sort of thing, when quite manifestly you don't, particularly. But since you took the time to inform me when you became engaged (and I do thank you for the wedding invitation -- I'm not sure if I ever properly apologized for my failure to RSVP promptly. I was enmeshed deep in some sort of complicated trouble at the time, and didn't get the invitation until about a year after the wedding) I decided that you would likely appreciate it if I did likewise. My idea was that you would hear about it from me, rather than through the grapevine, but given the speed of the workings of any grapevine involving my aunt, you've probably already heard. At least I tried.

So there you have it. I still remember you fondly, and I hope you think of me in a similar spirit. If you ever have the opportunity to visit Barrayar, I hope you'll let me know. I rather think you and Ekaterina would like each other.

Yours,
Miles

[naomikritzer]

(And yes, I am implying a torrid love affair between a much-younger Miles and a much-younger Peg. Apparently Peg had a college semester abroad on Beta Colony, or maybe Miles swung by earth...)

Well I wouldn't want a letter from her, it would be bound to be trouble!

[papersky.livejournal.com]

Dearest Peg,

How lovely to hear from you. I fear I am a Neglectful Correspondent and should have replied any time this last six months. So sorry to hear about your Work Woes. I'm most impressed to hear about your achievements at Karate -- and the girls too, how lovely for them. It's an accomplishment I dearly wish I'd had the chance to pursue.

I've been making rather a cake of myself at court recently, but better not to go into that. It will all End, in any case, for Charles has urgent and diplomatic reason to spend the next year in the Dutch East Indies, to his Great Advancement, and I'm wildly excited about this chance to travel to Entirely New Territory.

Well my dear, I wanted to ask, could you possibly take my Carlotta for a few months while Charles and I are in Batavia? The climate there is so Unhealthy for girls. Carlotta is sixteen already, such a great grown creature, and she's very much looking forward to seeing the Ice and Snow -- and to all of you as well. I do hope she'll be a help to you and not a Burden. She'll bring money for her Upkeep, and that of her Stables, naturally.

I have no doubt she'll have you and your family organized in no time -- she's very good at organizing and sorting people out. Charles unkindly says she reminds him of me at the same age! Have no Fears about her travelling out to you on her own, she has been quite accustomed to finding her way about since she was just a little thing. She'll probably look around her as soon as she arrives and settle you and Rob in new Careers, as well as finding partners for all your unattached friends and family.

She sails tomorrow and will arrive on about the first of next month. I'm afraid I'm rather taking your consent for granted -- you're so Good Natured, and you have always let me impose on you.

Yours, as always,
Sophy
(Lady Ombersley)

samwise gamgee, mayor. bag end, bagshot row, hobbiton, westfarthing, the shire, middle-earth.

[fireflowerlass.livejournal.com]

Dear Miss Peg,
How lovely to be sitting down and finally writing you a letter! It is rather hard to get away with the kids running around, not to mention all the affairs of being Mayor of Hobbiton. But I just wanted to send you a short note to show that I have not forgotten our friendship.
Very wise of you to encourage your girls to take self-defense. Sauron's reign is long over, but I can't help feeling that evil will never be completely gone. The fighting skills will do them good in the end, at least that's what I've found!
I am impressed with your determination to raise a pair of wonderful girls and your endurance that gets you through the rough times. You have shown your quality; the very finest. I don't know much about the whole business of being a mother; you'd have to ask Rose for around-the-house tips, she knows a thing or two about keeping kids in line and maintaining a household.
As for your writing, it was rough for me to get started on finishing the Red Book, but I've found that writing about your own life is easier than coming up with a story out of thin air. I've never been good at telling tales, but I find writing to be a fine past time; I am keeping a small book of my own where I write the every day things that happen which I find memorable or enjoyable.
I have enjoyed your letters very much, and regret only that I did not reply to them sooner. I wish you all happiness and hope to hear from you soon! Rosie and the wee Gamgees send their love.
Sincerely,
Samwise G.

[baldanders.livejournal.com]

Dear Peg:

I don't know if you've ever been woken by a foghorn two feet from your ears, but you can take it from me that an alarm clock is far to be preferred. Especially when the visage that greets the bleary aqueous humor upon cringing to something like wakefulness is that of Aunt... well, any aunt, but especially the one that hovered above the quivering Wooster bed this morning, if morning it indeed still was.

"Up, you sluggard," she cried at rather more than her accustomed volume, said a.v. being generally sufficient to rouse every sluggard within an acre and set them to rock-breaking. "I might have known you'd be lolling about like a dead fish. I suppose you have forgotten the day entirely." She examined the Wooster pan critically. "Out disgracing your family name last night, evidently, if disgrace is still possible. Well, I have a job for you, my fine young lamprey, and if you think amnesia is going to keep you from doing it, you had better think a few more times. I'll bet you haven't forgotten Anatole's coq au vin, eh? Aha, I saw that twitch! Greedy pig."

"That was not a twitch of greed, Aunt Dahlia, it was a twitch of the connoisseur's appreciation of greatness," I said with some asperity. "And I have not forgotten your job, as you so lightly refer to it; nor have I forgotten that I refused to do it."

"Oh, you refuse, do you?"

"Flatly."

"It's flat you'll be, dunce, when your overindulged frame wastes slowly away from pining for the best cooking you'll never salivate over again."

"You wouldn't."

"I would, and what's more I'd enjoy it. I'd do it right now, but the job needs to be done, and you're the worm to do it. So don't try me any further, or eat in despair for the rest of your parasitic life." She exited without further insult, and Jeeves shimmered in to fill the space she left, his calm presence soothing me like a healing zephyr, it's that's the sort of wind I'm trying to think of. As he lay the tray with the old eggs and b. on my shaky lap, everything reassuringly in its place and as it ought to be, I began to feel that the day so foully set awry could yet be restored.

"Jeeves," I said, "I am in it."

"Indeed, sir?"

"And flailing. I suppose you heard the call of the wild aunt?"

"I confess I could not avoid overhearing Mrs. Travers, sir."

"Yes, the deaf have a bit of difficulty with that one. Just as well, Jeeves, it saves me the trouble of filling you in. And you know better than to believe her, her.... what's the word, insults to the body and soul, begins with an i?"

"Imprecations, sir?"

"That's the one. As I say, you know better than to believe them."

"As you say, sir."

"But you have followed the essence of the problem."

"Yes, sir."

"And?"

"I am afraid nothing has suggested itself just yet, sir."

I stirred the breakfast pensively about the plate. "I don't know why she thinks I'm the one for the job. Surely she knows what a bloomer I'm bound to make of it. Toasting a pal or two among a small set of friends and a large set of drinks, I'm your man. Put me in front of a crowd and set a lot of trophies in front of me and all I can do is gesture helplessly, and most likely knock over a trophy or two. Am I not right?"

"There is much in what you say, sir."

"Yet it's me or no one, apparently." An idea struck me. "Jeeves, you have the requisite sang froid. Would you consider--"

"It is hardly in my line, sir."

"Well, you probably know best. I wish it weren't in mine."

So that's where it stands, Peg: in a rummy spot. Perhaps if you could put a word in with Aunt Dahlia the next time you're exchanging kicks -- I am afraid to go and watch; does she yell that awful "Yoicks" before you spar? I think that would freeze a black belt's blood -- there has to be a way to set her right about this. I don't know why that nice Mrs. Willis wouldn't do it this year. Please advise, quickly!

with trembling hand,
your pal,
Bertie

[callunav.livejournal.com]

Dear Ms. Kerr,

I don't know if you can imagine my feelings when I read your list of people you wanted letters from and my name was right there on the list, in between all sorts of important names, or rather, names of important people. It's a very surprising thing to be named by someone in a list of important people, Ms. Kerr. Maybe you wouldn't find it surprising, because you are important yourself, but just imagine if you were an orphan from Nova Scotia and someone said they wanted a letter from you. I'm sure you must be able to imagine it, even if you're not an orphan or from Nova Scotia, because you write fairy stories, so I know you have the very best kind of imagination.

I've wanted to talk to you for ever so long, but I haven't wanted to intrude. Sometimes it's hard to know when one is intruding, isn't it? It seems like it wouldn't be, but it is, because sometimes people don't like to tell you. It comes of being polite, I think, and I do like politeness, it's only that sometimes confusion comes roaring in its wake.

Isn't the image of confusion roaring in something's wake lovely? I don't think I made it up. I think I read it somewhere. I would love to think I made it up, but Miss Stacy says I must learn to have more respect for facts, and the fact in this case is that I think I read it somewhere. But I like it so much that it's almost like I made it up, isn't it?

Marilla says I will talk your ear off if I keep this up, but I don't see how I can because I am not talking, I'm writing, and you're not listening, you're reading, and no one ever says someone will write someone else's eyes off. That would be a dreadful image, anyhow.

However, I suppose this is not a proper kind of letter, and I should hate to have you feeling sorry you invited me to write to you. Besides, I want to be a credit to Marilla and Matthew and show the benefit of my upbringing. I'll start again and talk about weather and affairs of the home.

[callunav.livejournal.com]

Dear Ms. Kerr,

Thank you very much for inviting me to write to you. It is extravagantly kind of you, and I feel grateful all the way to my bones.

It is very chilly here, today, and there is rather a lot of snow, but the sun came out about halfway through the afternoon as though it wanted to say it had only been joking about all the winds and clouds, and wouldn't we forgive it and play with it again? So I went outside and climbed in the trees even though they were very snowy. Marilla scolded me for getting soaking wet, but I felt it would be rude to scorn such a graceful apology on the sun's part. Don't you think so?

This morning, Marilla opened a jar of Mrs. Lynde's preserved peaches. They smelled divine, but they were so beautiful I didn't want to eat them at first. However, Marilla said this was nonsense and that Mrs. Lynde would be offended if I didn't eat them, and of course I would rather be tortured excruciatingly than offend Mrs. Lynde, so eat them I did. It wasn't actually a hardship, because they were extremely good. It's always so nice when fulfilling an obligation is pleasant, isn't it? It happens so rarely, I like to point it out so that I'll be sure to remember.

I hope you and your family are well, and that you have pleasant weather. I would be enraptured if it were ever possible for us to meet, but unfortunately I think that fate will not be mine. I won't think about this for very long if you don't mind, because it makes me unhappy, not in a romantically tragic kind of way but with a very pragmatic kind of unhappiness which is very hard to get pleasure from, although of course I do try.

I think I'll pretend that we are only separated for a short time, and that someday soon we will meet. Perhaps I may be walking down a path and there will be a bridge across a stream, and on the far side of the bridge there will be a beautiful lady with a tall, shining girl on either side, and I'll get closer and closer, thinking that I must be imagining things, and finally I'll be right there and it will truly be you and your daughters, laughing at me for having taken so long to believe you are real.

Won't that be nice?

Let's both pretend it. It's so much nicer than being lonesome, don't you think? I don't need to wonder if we would be kindred spirits. I already know it intimately.

Until that time I beg to remain,

your obedient servant,

Anne Shirley

(Diana says all the perfectly elegant letters her grandfather wrote to her grandmother ended that way, except with his name, of course, not hers.)

[naomikritzer]

You capture her voice perfectly. ::applauds::

[callunav.livejournal.com]

Oh! Gosh. Thank you.

It was fun. :)

[dichroic.livejournal.com]

Lovely. (I identified this one inside the first paragraph.)

[juliansinger.livejournal.com]

I did /have/ the urge to write in the voice of Janet, and then I realized, "Good lord, no. Pamela Dean is on her friend's list."

Gibber.

[cpolk.livejournal.com]

This is so cool, but I just don't dare.

[(Anonymous)]

Aw, c'mon! Try it!

[castiron.livejournal.com]

Dear Mrs. Kerr,

How delighted I am to hear from you, and how sorry I am that your carriage has broken. Few pleasures can compare with riding in a carriage as it flies across the country, and while I own this is a pleasure I have laid aside since my marriage, still I cherish the memory, one of the few joyous memories of an unhappy time.

My dearest husband begs to be remembered to you, and I hope that when your coach is repaired you will bring your lovely daughters to visit.

Yours most sincerely,
Marianne Brandon