(no subject)

[what_ho_jeeves]

Who: Bertie Wooster and OPEN
What: A Wooster about town
When: All day today-ish
Where: Various locations
Notes & Warnings: Multiple starters in the post, or feel free to add your own! Prose or action spam both welcome.

Comments

[likeaswift]

Briefly, an image of Roddy Martindale seemed to superimpose itself over the image of this ridiculous-sounding young man and Smiley had to suppress an urge to simply turn tail and flee. But this man's circumlocutions were elaborate to a degree of which Roddy was entirely incapable, and that alone caught Smiley's interest. Pushing through an instinctive feeling of dread, he merely frowned, genuinely confused as to exactly what sort of person this man could possibly be alluding to.

"I beg your pardon?" And then: "Fish?"

[what_ho_jeeves]

Bertie helpfully replied, "You know, scaly things that swim in the sea...or rivers, I suppose, and lakes upon occasion, or ponds."

[likeaswift]

"Yes, quite," Smiley said, the faintest edge of impatience in his voice. "I simply couldn't quite follow your ... description of your sample reader." Smiley was generally good at figuring out what someone was getting at, even in the most rambling of digressions, but this fellow had left him completely and uncharacteristically at sea, as it were.

[what_ho_jeeves]

Bertie didn't hear the impatience, but he took up the opportunity to sing the praises of Jeeves.

"It's for my valet, Jeeves. He is a paragon among paragons, the smartest egg to wear a size 9 bowler. Jeeves is the most clever man of my acquaintance, no problem too knotty for him to solve. He's partial to some philosopher fellow named Spinoza, but as he has the collected works thereof I am forced to find a new philosopher for him to sink his mental teeth into."

[likeaswift]

Smiley's expression cleared in comprehension, even if in the back of his mind he recognised the name Jeeves.

"How fortunate to have such a learned man in your employ," he said politely. "I'm afraid that philosophy is not my specialty, however—" he was still holding a volume of Schiller in his hand, and indicated it by way of explanation, "so I can only make the most general sorts of suggestions."

[what_ho_jeeves]

Bertie knew as much about Schiller as he did about Spinoza, which is to say, nothing at all. The space in his head labelled "Teutonic literature" held nothing but a vast and empty cavern.

"I don't know a dashed thing about philosophy myself, beyond a speck of Plato here and there." And that speck was, more often then not, a bit muddled. "So put forth your suggestions and Wooster will listen."

[likeaswift]

Smiley peered up at the affable face, wondering if this man could possibly be as colossal a booby as he appeared. Years of circulating amongst Ann's various extended relations, to say nothing of his long career at the Circus, had taught him to never underestimate the vast stupidity of which the aristocracy was capable, but this lesson was always balanced with his innate distrust of others, and the awareness that stupidity could always be an act.

"Very well. Perhaps your man would be interested in Leibniz?" He turned toward the shelf he had been rearranging and his gaze lighted upon a rather foxed copy of the Confessio philosophi, which he carefully extracted and offered to Wooster. "A contemporary of Spinoza's."

[what_ho_jeeves]

Bertie looked at the book, face a picture of perplexity. He'd never heard of this Leibniz chap, although he was pleased to see a bit of Latin on the cover. That was always a good sign that an improving book was contained within.

"Right-o. Leibnits and his confessio sound like just the thing, just the very thing. Exciting reading, what?"

[likeaswift]

"To those who understand it, it can be quite enthralling." It was not exactly a veiled insult, but it was intended to get some measure of the man by his response. "What of your own tastes, Mr—Wooster, was it?"