Tient, si tu as le courage, voici les profils complets des persos en anglais. On en reparle mercredi.
Occupational abilities are marked with an asterisk.
Rosa Parker
Concept: Spinster antiques dealer
Drive: Ennui
Occupation: Antiquarian
Sex: Female
Sources of stability: Priscilla, my sister. Derek, the antiques dealer with
whom I served my apprenticeship. Martha, the newsagent who lives near me.
Pillars of sanity: Honesty is the best policy. Somebody will love me for what I am. Deep inside, I am a good person.
Investigative Skills: Archaeology 2, Architecture* 2, History* 2, Library Use* 2, Assess Honesty 1, Bureaucracy 1, Credit Rating 3, Intimidation 2, Oral History 2, Evidence Collection 1.
General skills: Driving 5, Fleeing 5, Health 10, Sense Trouble 10, Preparedness 8, Stability 10, Firearms (shotgun) 10, Riding 5, Sanity 10.
It has been said you are a plain woman. This is perhaps true, although you resent being judged on that alone. You are also highly intelligent and, when someone gets to know you, loyal and loving. Yet what people remember is a large and brash woman. This saddens you.
You are a successful antiques dealer, living in Stroud in Gloucestershire. Your clientele consists of well-heeled locals, mostly middle-aged women, and knowledgeable collectors, who travel great distances to view your latest stock. As a woman in the backbiting world of antiquarians, you have become bullish and tenacious. Shouting in auctions has made you strident. You are conscious, too, of being a couple of rungs lower on the class ladder than your clients, which adds a defensiveness to your character.
Yet, despite your exterior, you are a deeply loving person. Your sister, Priscilla, is the dearest thing in your life. She lives in Cornwall and you communicate with her by letter and telephone. Your relationship with your mother, who lives with Priscilla, is also close.
Above all, you are proud of getting things done. You are in Keswick for an antiques fair, at which you expect to fight dealers down to bargain prices. When you know what you want, those who stand in your way are doomed to fail.
Dr Michael Laws
Concept: Extroverted hospital consultant
Drive: Thirst for Knowledge
Occupation: Doctor
Sex: Male
Sources of stability: My brother, Geoffrey Laws. My mentor, Dr Parker. My wife, Cynthia.
Pillars of sanity: I save lives. Humanity is essentially good. Being in the country makes me human again.
Investigative skills: Architecture 1, Biology* 1, History 1, Languages* 2, Library Use 2, Medicine* 2, Physics 1, Assess Honesty* 2, Bargain 1, Bureaucracy 2, Credit Rating 4, Flattery 1, Oral History 1, Reassurance* 2, Photography 1.
General skills: Athletics 10, Driving 10, Health 10, Scuffling 6, Stability 10, Firearms 10, First Aid* 10, Sanity 10.
Your work in medicine is an extension of your love for people. Admittedly, you have never been a bookish sort: you would claim to be academically competent rather than brilliant. Nevertheless, your bedside manner is excellent. You can put people at ease with a few words. That, you consider, is what makes you a great doctor, and you are quite frankly bloody good at your job.
Your love for humanity extends to those around you. Geoffrey, your brother, is a constant in your life. Cynthia is your greatest comfort, although you must admit you have not been entirely faithful. Nevertheless, you would do nothing to hurt those close to you.
Although you practice in London, you have come to Keswick for a welcome weekend away. Perhaps you will walk a little. Inevitably, you will haunt the bar! And one never knows whom one might meet. Perhaps you will find a young lady: that would certainly help the week pass pleasantly.
When you get back, you will see those you love: you must call Geoffrey, since you have not seen him for a while. For the moment, though, your time is your own and you intend to explore this area a little.
Jonesy (Tom)
Concept: Gentleman tramp
Drive: Duty
Occupation: Hobo
Sex: Male
Sources of stability: Mrs Travis, an exceptionally kind old lady. My dear old mother, God bless her. Tiny, the other tramp in the library.
Pillars of sanity: I’m British through and through. Everything will turn out all right in the end. I’ll outlive you all.
Investigative skills: Archaeology 1, History 1, Library Use 2, Bargain* 2, Flattery 2, Intimidation 1, Oral History 2, Reassurance 2, Streetwise* 2, Art 1, Locksmith 1, Outdoorsman* 2,
General skills: Athletics* 10, Filch* 10, Health 10, Sense Trouble* 10, Preparedness 5, Scuffling 8, Stability 10, First Aid 5, Mechanical Repair 5, Sanity 10, Stealth 6
This really is the most delightful village. Absolutely delightful. Keswick, you say? What a splendiferous part of the world. One wonders whether it was Wordsworth that said that fresh air strengthens the soul.
You are Mr Jones, although you are commonly known as Jonesy, not that there is anything common about you! On the contrary! You consider yourself a gentleman. Although the bowler hat, coat and stick are undeniably tattered, they are of exceptionally good quality.
Now, to be frankly honest, your gentlemanliness is something of an affectation. You are from humble stock: your dear old mother, God bless her, is a seamstress in Canterbury. She even has a telephone these days, although you particularly have little occasion to telephone it. Your accent, too, is entirely affected and not entirely accurate, and your command of the English language is perhaps indeed not all that which itshould be.
With all your affectation, however, you are proud to be English and justly so! Justly so! You feel a duty to investigate anything remotely rum and report it within the purview of the proper authorities if that seems in the least appropriate in your considered opinion.
There not being anything rum in the immediate vicinity, however, you would be much obliged if someone would stand you a drink. Ordinarily you would pay yourself, but you find yourself a tad short at the moment. A gin-and-tonic-water would be delightful, if it is not too much trouble. How awfully kind.
Viscount Hilary Exeter
Name: Viscount Hilary Exeter
Concept: Socialite and dabbler
Drive: Arrogance
Occupation: Dilettante
Sex: Male
Sources of stability: My elder brother Marmy, a surgeon. My elder brother Perry, an archaeologist. My younger brother Jack, a priest.
Pillars of sanity: My birthright. The finer things in life. I am biologically superior to the lower classes.
Investigative skills: Anthropology 1, Archaeology 2, Architecture 2, Biology 2, History 1, Library Use 1, Medicine 2, Occult Studies 2, Physics 1, Bargain 1, Credit Rating 6, Flattery 2, Intimidation 2, Oral History 2, Art 1
General skills: Athletics 10, Driving 10, Health 10, Scuffling 6, Stability 10, Firearms 10, Riding 10, Sanity 10
You really have no idea where the bloody hell you are. One moment, you were on a train to Glasgow, with a couple of bottles of Moet. The next, you were…well, you presume you got off too early, then you got chucked off another train in the middle of nowhere and then you seem to recall a taxi. What the hell is this place? At least it has a bar. Small mercies, you suppose.
Although you think of yourself as a dilettante, you are, in reality, an unfocused brat. As the third eldest in your family, there were no particular expectations on your shoulders. Hence, believing your family name will see you through, you are content to drift between bars, women and card games.
Nevertheless, you have found time to study. Admittedly, you mainly studied so that you could argue with your brothers. When Marmaduke went into medicine, you were damned if you would let him beat you. You trained for a year, then dropped out, thereby gaining enough ammunition to shoot
his arguments down. In a similar way, you learned about architecture to argue with Peregrine. No, hang on, archaeology, that was it. Damned confusing.
When your younger brother became a priest, you took a different tack: with no desire to master theological arguments, you read every blasphemous tract you could find. Although you do not win arguments with him, you stall these disputes by annoying him beyond belief. All things considered, there is little to your life other than your family name. And since the sun is over the yardarm, it is time for a drink.
Helen Long
Name: Helen Long
Concept: Tempestuous surreal artist
Drive: Artistic Sensitivity
Occupation: Artist
Sex: Female
Sources of stability: Gloria, my
mother in Chelsea. Julie St Clair, a
fellow artist in Camden. Jack, the
tramp who sleeps outside the building.
Pillars of sanity: Art lies within the
human soul. The city is your home.
There is beauty in insanity.
Investigative skills: Architecture 2,
Art History 2, Library Use 1, Assess
Honesty 2, Bureaucracy 2, Credit
Rating 3, Flattery 2, Intimidation
2, Oral History 1, Reassurance 1,
Streetwise 1, Art 4, Photography 2.
General skills: Athletics 10, Driving10, Filch 6, Health 10, Sense Trouble
5, Preparedness 5, Stability 10,
Mechanical Repair 5, Sanity 10.
God knows why you agreed to come but you’re here, in the Lake District, otherwise known as the middle of bloody nowhere. A client and admirer of your work sent you to Keswick, to paint the Lake District. He is paying for the hotel, so you can hardly complain.
Wait. Actually, no, you can complain. You’re a bloody artist, after all. What is there here to inspire you? Bluebells? Meadows? What are you meant to do, paint watercolours? You’re a surreal artist. You paint nightmarish landscapes. There’s nothing nightmarish here, other than the excruciating boredom, and you can’t paint that.
You need something to inspire you. Something dark, something twisted. And what do you get in Keswick? A bloody pencil factory. You wish you were back in London. You should visit your mother, who is getting on a bit.
Also, you feel an urgent need to get drunk with Julie, another artist, who is still trying to make Cubism work. Unless something interesting happens in the next few days, you’re going to get the train straight back.