Asclepius Unbound

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Name: Asclepius Unbound. This is almost certainly not the name he was born with.

Age: Early- to mid-twenties

Gender: Male

Height: 5’11″

Weight: A bit thin and lanky compared to his height. Has been gaunt in the past, but currently just thin.

Eyes: Normally blue/green, they have since turned grey. Those who look deeply into them seem to see storm-clouds.

Hair: Dark brown.

Face/Complexion: Pale, with fine features. He wears no facial hair.

Build: Wiry and spry.

Dress Style: His attire is appropriately fashionable yet mostly nondescript, and his coat clinks with small items hidden in clever pockets. On special occasions he wears an immaculate frock coat and a truly exceptional hat.

Possessions always on his person: A concealed dagger, a small vial of chloroform, a notebook and pen, a strange-looking pocket watch, and Rufus, his ocelot.

Manner of Speech: Alternating between vibrantly enthusiastic and Byronically depressive.

Manner of Movement: Smooth, quick, and playful.

Physical Health: Adequate. He has died multiple times, and bears seven wounds that will never heal. But his vitality carries him through.

IQ: A genius or and a madman. A very active Scholar of dreams and the Correspondence.

Extrovert/Introvert: Depends on the company he's in and his mood.

Mental Health: Surprisingly good for a Seeker of the Name. It is rumoured he dedicates himself to good works in secret.

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Marital Status: Single.

Sexual Preference: Asclepius has only ever displayed interest in men in that way, though many of his close friends are women.

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Least Favourite:
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This began with an innocent question from @SirFredTC to @EchoBazaar, which was answered with: "Everything possible to be believed is an image of truth."

He promptly asked: "Did that engraver rightly judge the proverbs of Hell? Do the owl, the cat, the bear and the 'coon watch the roots or the fruits?"

At this point @AsclepiusUnbnd weighed in, and it all got rather unusually silly. Actually, just as silly as it sometimes gets normally.

[I'll do my best to keep this up-to-date. Anything posted on Twitter with hashtag #ebzblake that's appropriately related will get included.]


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In the words of Sir Frederick, "This, I suspect, is a not atypical day at Saint Cyriac's Illuminated College."

[This is a response to http://thecuriouswritingsofhelendemeter.wordpress.com/2011/05/14/the-circle-attends-and-ruins-a-show/ ]

Asclepius watched the performance covertly from his rooftop, smiling and nodding along. He still couldn't get over how helpful that lovely Miss Dare had been with the casting - it seemed as though she knew everyone in the Flit worth knowing! The crowd reacted just as he'd hoped.

He smiled to see a knot of acquaintances in the audience, with a badly-disguised Jamieson among them. When the screaming started, he had already anticipated it and was long gone. Unfortunately the two Constables guarding the exit to the Flit were expecting him.

***

"ALRIGHT, all of you! Shut UP!" He gazed over the gaggle of half-drunk and singed actors and dancers, still on a high from the events earlier in the day, not to mention copious amounts of strong drink. "I think we can all agree our performance was a resounding success." He shifted painfully on his crutches.

A babble arose.

"...yes, I *told* you we'd be raided."

A hubbub of voices.

"...the POINT was to get some attention for the piece! Remember!"

Murmurs.

"IF YOU ALL SHUT UP I'LL BUY A ROUND!"

The ensuing dead silence led Asclepius to mop his brow and sigh. "Actors..."

"Now, as I have said, I have a lead on a much more ... prestigious performance than the Hall. And if you all keep your noses clean for the next few days, I'll be able to cut you all in on it. Got it? We'll be the talk of Veilgarden - of all London! - for months. So calm down. Matters are under control."

***

"Goden! Na runna the topsies tha, nicht powr."

Asclepius nodded to the Topsy King. "I quite understand. Don't worry, I can assure you we will not be performing this piece in the Flit again. Thank you for your hospitality."

He bowed and turned away, already mentally composing his letter...

"To his excellency the Honourable Privy Councillor, I believe I have found a most suitable production that meets your requirements..."

The Court of the Empress wasn't going to know what hit it.