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INFORMATION MINISTER JOHN MANDRAKE;;
Don't call me Natty!
Created on 2007-11-11 08:56:54 (#14226986), last updated 2007-11-12
53 comments received, 32 comments posted
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1 Journal Entry, 2 Tags, 0 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 10 Userpics
Basic Info| Name: | John Mandrake//[Nathaniel Underwood]. |
|---|---|
| Website: | Nathaniel-mun's LJ |
BioNATHANIEL;;
Being a keen observer, Nathaniel had soon perceived that among working magicians, appearance was an important factor in maintaining status. Shabby attire was frowned upon; indeed it was a sure-fire mark of mediocre talent. He did not intend to give this impression. With the stipend that he received from his department, he had bought a tight-fitting black drainpipe suit and a long Italian coat, both of which he considered dangerously fashionable. He wore slim, slightly pointed shoes and a succession of garish handkerchiefs, which provided an explosion of color across his breast. With this outfit carefully in place, he would walk around the Whitehall cloisters with a lanky, purposeful stride, reminiscent of some wading bird, clutching sheathes of paper in his arms.
BARTIMAEUS;;
I regarded him bleakly in my turn. His face still had the old pale and hungry look, or at least the bit I could see did, since half of it was curtained by a veritable mane of hair. I swear he hadn't been within a mile of a pair of scissors since I'd last set eyes on him; his locks cascaded around his neck like a greasy black Niagra.
As for the rest, he was less weedy than before, true, but he hadn't so much gotten bulkier as been clumsily stretched. He looked as if some giant had grabbed his head and feet, yanked once, then gone off in disgust: his torso was narrow as a spindle, his arms and legs gangly and ill-fitting, his feet and hands quietly reminiscent of an ape's.
The gangly effect was heightened by his choice of clothes: a swanky suit, so tight it looked as if it had been painted on, a ridiculous long black coat, dagger-sharp shoes, and a flouncy handkerchief the size of a small tent hanging from his breast pocket. You could tell he thought he looked terribly dashing.
Important notes about Nathaniel:
+No one can know that his name is Nathaniel. He goes by the name John Mandrake, an alias as weedy as he is.
+Nathaniel is also between the second and third books, if that means anything to you. Thus, he thinks Kitty's dead, hasn't seen Bartimaues in two years, and has yet to learn to change his douchey ways.
+I'd rather think he already knew.
Being a keen observer, Nathaniel had soon perceived that among working magicians, appearance was an important factor in maintaining status. Shabby attire was frowned upon; indeed it was a sure-fire mark of mediocre talent. He did not intend to give this impression. With the stipend that he received from his department, he had bought a tight-fitting black drainpipe suit and a long Italian coat, both of which he considered dangerously fashionable. He wore slim, slightly pointed shoes and a succession of garish handkerchiefs, which provided an explosion of color across his breast. With this outfit carefully in place, he would walk around the Whitehall cloisters with a lanky, purposeful stride, reminiscent of some wading bird, clutching sheathes of paper in his arms.
BARTIMAEUS;;
I regarded him bleakly in my turn. His face still had the old pale and hungry look, or at least the bit I could see did, since half of it was curtained by a veritable mane of hair. I swear he hadn't been within a mile of a pair of scissors since I'd last set eyes on him; his locks cascaded around his neck like a greasy black Niagra.
As for the rest, he was less weedy than before, true, but he hadn't so much gotten bulkier as been clumsily stretched. He looked as if some giant had grabbed his head and feet, yanked once, then gone off in disgust: his torso was narrow as a spindle, his arms and legs gangly and ill-fitting, his feet and hands quietly reminiscent of an ape's.
The gangly effect was heightened by his choice of clothes: a swanky suit, so tight it looked as if it had been painted on, a ridiculous long black coat, dagger-sharp shoes, and a flouncy handkerchief the size of a small tent hanging from his breast pocket. You could tell he thought he looked terribly dashing.
Important notes about Nathaniel:
+No one can know that his name is Nathaniel. He goes by the name John Mandrake, an alias as weedy as he is.
+Nathaniel is also between the second and third books, if that means anything to you. Thus, he thinks Kitty's dead, hasn't seen Bartimaues in two years, and has yet to learn to change his douchey ways.
+I'd rather think he already knew.
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