M. Scarper Montmorency

"Oh, non. Soit je vais bien, Mlle Veda. Comme ils sont tous les deux mon nom."
Scarper a maintenu son sourire, hésitant doucement.
"Que tu préfères m'adresser, c'est très bien."
Lorsque Veda a expliqué la raison de sa confusion antérieure, le sourire de Scarper s'est légèrementompé.
"Oh, chérie. Je suis désolé pour votre perte, il me semble que vous étiez assez proche de lui. Que son âme repose paisiblement dans l'au-delà."
Sa tête pendue bas, Scarper a remarqué qu'elle se déchirait et a immédiatement atteint dans son gilet pour sortir un chiffon pour elle pour essuyer ses yeux avec. Cependant, elle l'a battu. Ses esprits reviennent à elle assez vite.
"La pauvre femme." J'ai pensé à Scarper.
N'ayant jamais connu la perte lui-même, il ne pouvait que sympathiser avec elle.
Pourtant, elle a fait preuve d'une force de caractère que Scarper ne pouvait qu'admirer. Il a trouvé ceux qui ont montré la volonté de continuer avec les têtes tenues haut, indépendamment des tragédies qui se sont produites dans leur vie, pour être dignes de louanges et de félicitations.
Avec le bruit éclatant de verre, Scarper s'est retrouvé tiré de ses pensées par la sensation inconfortable d'éclaboussure de liquide contre la jambe de son pantalon. Blinking, il a regardé le sol de l'auberge et a vu la tragique victime en morceaux cassés. Buvez billard vers l'extérieur et ramper contre ses chaussures de robe.
"Oh, dérangez-vous."
Agenouillé pour aider Veda, il a pris les plus gros shards.
"Non, non. Tout va bien, Mlle Veda. Ce n'est que des vêtements, simplement un objet matériel qui n'a aucune signification. D'ailleurs, je peux toujours les blanchir plus tard."
Toujours souriant, il regarda comme leurs yeux se rencontraient.
En essuyant ses chaussures et sa jambe de pantalon, il a fait un dernier commentaire.
« Nous sommes tous des créatures imparfaites. Des erreurs peuvent être commises."
Montmorency a dit, son ton un peu bizarre et sonnant légèrement hors de la place pour une raison ou une autre.
Mais, ce n'était rien d'import.
S'entrainant légèrement, les deux ont fini de nettoyer le mess en ordre court et Montmorency s'est tenu, reposant sur sa canne pour de l'aide.
« Oui, j'espère qu'on se reverra. J'ai l'intention de rester un peu ici au moins un moment, mais j'aurai besoin d'un peu de clarification et d'explications sur les «règles» si cela ne vous dérange pas plus tard. Comme je n'ai appris ce lieu merveilleux que par bouche à oreille, il y a encore quelques domaines sur lesquels je ne suis pas clair. Par exemple, où sont les chambres? »
Il s'en est pris au menton, il l'a tapé pendant qu'il regardait autour de lui.
En l'état, il n'est pas très "orientally-inclined" comme il aimait le dire.
Juste à temps pour être distrait par un autre curieux patron du bar, ou... ça a marché ici?
En regardant la combinaison d'armure brillante et flottante, Scarper s'appuya alors qu'elle lui parlait!
"Oh, mon Dieu. Bonjour. Non, pas du tout. Vous allez bien, pas de surprises désagréables ici. Mais à quel point êtes-vous curieux, qui pourriez-vous être?"
Sans y penser, Scarper leva sa canne à la main et tapota doucement sur l'armure lévitante avec sa fin. En écoutant le son de tonnerre comme pour confirmer qu'il s'agissait bien d'une armure.
Si ce n'était pas pour lui de savoir dans quel monde magique et fantastique il vivait, il serait positif qu'il ait perdu l'esprit et l'emprise sur la réalité il y a des années.
Mais, la conversation de Scarper avec le costume flottant d'armure devrait attendre.
Comme ce moment, un grand et redoutable ensemble d'yeux apparut dans le bar et le regarda.
"Oh, chérie. Il semble que j'ai été un peu distrait."
Scarper pensait qu'il regardait ces yeux enflammés, ajustant sa crève.
Revenant à Veda, sourire faible encore gravant son visage, il a tapé sa canne deux fois sur le plancher de bois.
Une fois.
Deux fois.
"Il semble que votre invité soit un peu impatient. Mieux vaut bouger, Mlle Veda."
Il devrait certainement rester un peu plus longtemps ici, se tournant vers le costume fascinant de l'armure une fois de plus.
Name: Scarper Montmorency
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Occupation: Gentleman
Personality: Scholarly. Intellectual. Kind. Polite. Gentleman. All words with which one could describe Scarper. Scarper carries himself with a sense of confidence and pride that one couldn't help but admire as they met his acquaintance, a kindred soul to all who greet him. Judgemental and biased he is not, Scarper is rather open-minded to new ideas and concepts thanks due in part to the thirst for knowledge that his family had imbued within him. Regardless of one's background, race, gender, or belief system, Scaper is the kind of man who would sit and break bread with anyone and share good drink with everyone. Wanting nothing more but to learn of their experiences and build connections wherever he could to achieve his future goal of determining his direction and place in life.
Biography: Born to Dr. Paul Montmorency and Stefanie Montmorency, Scarper had a rather 'average' childhood. As his father was a well-known professional in the fields of science and medicine, his mother being an educator and teacher, he grew up in a home where he had little want or need. His parents providing for their only son everything, thanks to the efforts of their hard-work and perseverance. Traits that would later be instilled in Scarper. Though his parents were strict and at times harsh on him, he would later thank them for teaching him some of the more critical and important aspects to life. Education being the primary and utmost important. No extraordinary or tragic life to speak of, Scarper's parents had nothing but the best intentions and love for their son. Nurturing, caring, and firm as they were.
As he grew and matured into a fine young man, he had completed his primary and secondary education and was thrust into the world. A time which he would not argue was a tumultuous period for him indeed as he constantly changed professions seeking different employment opportunities in an attempt to find his place in the world. Working as a scribe, political advisor, lab assistant and even nurse among many others, it wouldn't be until Scarper realized that he quickly grew bored with what society had to offer him did he abandon the notion of 'settling down' into any one field for the rest of his life. As the thought was a simply soul-crushing idea. Though his mother and father disapproved, he then made the decision to heed a bit of advice his parents had imparted upon him when he was younger.
"Travel the world. Broaden your horizons."
He was still young, and the world couldn't possibly have just this to offer. And so, for the next few years, Scarper Montmorency travelled and expanded his worldly knowledge and skills along with it. Until one fateful day, he heard of a peculiar inn where room and board was not paid for in currency. No. Instead, good food and a warm bed was guaranteed to those who were willing to work various posted jobs for the inn.
What’s in your bag:
Leather-bound journal with accompanying fountain pen from which he is almost always seen reading or writing in.
Silver pocket watch (*A gift from his father.) "It always pays to be punctual."
Black walking cane with a silver raven on the handle (*He has a permanent limp due to pre-existing spinal problems) with a concealed sword within
Concealed switchblade
Concealed flintlock pistol
Spectacles (*He has poor vision)
Bowler hat (*A gift from his mother)
Extra:
He smokes. (*Bad habit, he knows)
He drinks. (*Also bad habit)
He has a sweet-tooth. (*His mother was a fine cook and baker as well)


Scarper stands at 5ft, 11 inches or 155 cm and weighs at approximately 170 Lbs or 77 kg, giving him a rather tall and slender form. Always clean and hygienic, he always takes time and effort out of his day to maintain the absolute best professional and sharp appearance as first impressions were always the most impactful in creating new bonds and relations with others.
Jet-black hair, pale grey skin, and slate gray eyes, he is always seen with his eyes half-lidded as if he were sleepy or tired and bears a constant faint smile on his lips. Almost as if he were always pleasantly content with whatever is going on at the time, his expression hardly ever changes from this default state. It being difficult to sway his emotions one way or the other, no matter the circumstances. To some, this may seem rather annoying. But to others, his presence can be comforting and inviting.


Scarper has no magical ability to speak of and isn't particularly physically strong. Where he lacks in strength and magic, he makes up for with his quick thinking and swift dexterity. If one could name his most notable skills, it would be 'Dead-eye' and 'Sleight of Hand'. Skills he acquired in part practice and part natural-born aptitude.
Dead-eye - In anyone else's hands, his flintlock pistol is terribly unreliable and inaccurate. However, in his capable ownership, Scarper can take extraordinarily accurate and precise shots. He credits it in a joking manner to an unseen connection between mind, body, and weapon.
Sleight of Hand - More than simply parlor tricks, Scarper has rather expert usage of his hands and fingers. Reflexes on par with even most assassins, he can perform simple tasks faster than a normal human eye can typically perceive. Useful for card tricks and pickpocketing, though he would like to think he is above such things.
Ultimately, Scarper believes himself more of a diplomat or politician. More willing to talk his way out of predicaments than to resort to distasteful violence. Apt to exert as little effort as possible to 'defeat his foes' either by the gift of communication and understanding or exploiting weaknesses. Believing that the best won battle is the battle never fought. To love, not to fight, using his guile and chicanery.
Though, it if ever came down to it, Scarper has a unique style of 'fencing' and pugilism for self-defense. It could not be said Scarper is beyond taking a life if ever necessary. A shadowy haze lingering behind his dull, grey eyes.