P

Species: human
Gender: male
Age: 28
DOB: September 11, 1859
Birthplace: Great Britain
Occupation: Secretary of the Council of Mages, Assistant Principal at the Liberty Center (fmr. valet)
Languages: English

Personality
Percival is extremely high-strung, wound as tightly as a spring. Fussy, picky, and finicky, he's fastidious in all aspects of his life and squawks like a canary if things are out of place. He's forever cleaning and tidying and straightening, not stopping until he has things exactly perfect.

A stickler for the rules, Percival lives for protocol and decorum. Appearance is everything to him. It is his belief that the smooth operating of the world depends on everyone being able to put on a good show in public and not dredge up personal issues.

It is Percival's greatest shame that he is secretly a complete bleeding heart. He really does try to be as cold and proper as possible, but he's the kind of person that can't walk by the beggar and her child on the street without feeling a pang of upset and reaching into his pocket for a tuppence. He's learned through his life not to cry, but it's always obvious when he's seen something that upsets him. His mouth puckers and his forehead wrinkles and he looks completely stricken. it's easy to think he might cry, but he never does. His tears were spent long ago in his childhood.

Rules and protocol are Percival's shield against the world. Throughout all the teasing and persecution he's suffered, he always had those rules and regulations, a pillar to cling to during the storms, constant and unchanging. A place for everything and everything in its place is his battle cry.

Though he hates mess and dirtiness, Percival is not afraid of it. He has no problem with wading straight into the muck and grime. He doesn't scream in terror, even at the worst and most disgusting chamber pots. He's been a servant most of his life, he knows how to clean, and sometimes that means you have to get dirty. He makes it a point never to wallow in dirt, though, and never to muss his good clothes.

Percival can be hard to get along with, quick to show disapproval if someone's he's with does something wrong. It's best to just take his nitpicks in stride. He can also come off as aloof and uncaring, quick to retreat behind his shell of disdain when people are having personal problems. Personal problems are meant to be dealt with privately, and are none of his business. This sensibility can often be at odds with his bleeding heart compassion, the compassion being the natural tendency of his heart and the aloofness what he's learned the hard way.

Percival's ability to thrive on stress is one of his more prominent features. He almost requires stress in his life, going so far as to manufacture it by making every little protocol infraction the greatest disaster ever. It's murder on his happiness, but it's his way. If there's no stress he gets lost and uneasy. The idea of sitting about doing nothing is anathema to him. He would sooner die than unwind and be lazy. you might even say Percival is frantic to keep himself busy and live his life as quickly as possible.

Perhaps this would be different if Percival had a significant other in his life, but he's not had much luck romantically. He had a crush on a straight man for several years, which obviously couldn't go anywhere, and he's so outside the loop of dating and romance he doesn't even know where to start at this point. He's stuck in the rut of thinking he might like to go find someone and believing there's no one out there.

Physical Characteristics
Height: 5' 7"
Weight/Build: thin
Hair: red-brown
Eyes: cloudy blue
Skin: pale, lightly freckled -- freckles become much more pronounced if he's out in the sun for long
Face: skinny, with pointy nose and chin
Attire: Always wears pants and dress shirts with a vest or waistcoat and a tie or cravat. He often mixes Victorian clothing with modern pieces. He doesn't get cold often and overheats easily, so goes without a topcoat whenever he can comfortably get away with it, even in winter. He wears oval partial-rim wireframe glasses, usually halfway down his nose. He has no single color palette he prefers, but he's always very well-coordinated, right down to his socks.

Collective History:
 

Individual History
he son of a maid and a street cleaner and the second of four children, Percival took after his mother from an early age. Protocol and decorum came naturally to him and he started working for the Nightingale family, who also employed his mother, when he was only six. The Nightingale's head butler, who had no children of his own, took Percival under his wing to teach him everyting he needed to know to be a highly-respected servant in a noble household.

Throughout his young life, Percival was the subject of teasing, both from his siblings and the son of Lord Nightingale, James, who was three years Percival's senior. While his siblings were out playing games in the mud (even his sisters) Percival preferred to stay inside and conduct a proper teatime, and while James Nightingale learned hunting and riding, Percival polished the wineglasses and organized the antiques. He was extremely fastidious and nitpicky, always taking care in how he presented himself. His siblings and James Nightingale, knowing how much it bothered Percival, would throw dirt clods at him and dirty his shirts and jackets just for the joy of seeing Percival throw a hissy fit.

When he was sixteen and James Nightingale eighteen, James selected Percival for his valet. Percival was at first horrified, this being the same boy who had ruined so many of his nice shirts, but James only teased Percival out of friendship (and because, frankly, it was funny). The two could not have been more opposite, but this is precisely what made the combination work. James knew he could count on Percival to have impeccable taste at all times and keep him out of trouble. Percival had an employer who trusted him and considered him indispensable.

The two went everywhere together for the next few years as James courted various ladies and Percival kept James from impugning the honor of any of said ladies. Finally Percival managed to get his lord engaged to Lady Abbington's daughter, a lovely young lady named Elizabeth. The marriage would be beneficial to both families and Elizabeth was likable enough (if a bit too staid for James', whose tastes more commonly ran towards scullery maids). James and Elizabeth were set to be married May 10th.

May 2nd, a week away from the wedding, Percival and James were returning home from an engagement party that ran a little too late. James decided to take a shortcut through a bad part of the city. The road quality was not ideal and the horse turned its leg. Ever headstrong, James resolved to go and get help, so naturally Percival went with him, leaving the driver with the horse and carriage. It was dark and Percival was uncomfortable, but cavalier James was convinced of their invincibility. A man stepped out from the shadows with a pistol and demanded their valuables. James, of course, refused, told the man to get out the way, and started to walk by. The man pulled the trigger and Percival pushed James out of the way, taking the bullet. When the assailant charged James, James disarmed him, but the gun jammed and the man escaped down an alley. James immediately went to Percival's side. Percival was in a bad state. Feeling responsible, James yelled for help and swore he would do anything to save Percival's life, since it was his fault they were in this part of town and his fault they were walking and his fault Percival had been shot. This call resulted in interference of the Fleet, who saved Percival's life and offered James an adventure. Since James accepted, steadfastly loyal Percival went along.

Post-Extraction
Upon joining the Fleet Percival was drawn to the immense disarray of the University of Magic and opted to work as an administrative aide there. He met his dimensional alter, Reginald, and they've been the best of mates ever since. He also befriended the only other nonmagical employee at the University, Teqatia Endruis, a historian. His life was full and busy with the University's legendary chaos, and almost more stressful than he could handle. It was the exact sort of life he wanted, his days so full he could barely notice them.

When the Conference occurred (June 2006), the University was suspended indefinitely. The Council of Mages was formed in its place, and Reginald had Percival appointed Secretary. The Council met only twice a month, and as a result Percival was left going a bit stir-crazy, obsessing over his and Reginald's houses in lieu of having anything else to do. Then, two big things happened.

Reginald Thrash - Percival's dimensional alter, Reg is like a brother but better. He and Percival get along with such natural ease that whenever either stops to think about they come away pleasantly baffled. A powerful Adjuster, Reginald can reshape reality in his vicinity.

Molly (Morris) Thrash - Reginald's wife, she comes from a long line of great warlock and witches, but she's terrible at magic. She only found out after she joined the University that her dismal magical ability was the result of a rare innate antimagic. Reginald was intrigued by her antimagic and convinced her to work with him. Shy, bookish, and often insecure, Molly never expected anything out of her seemingly cursed life, but Reginald was her turning point. He developed great affection for her, and eventually asked her to dinner, and after a few months of invitations she finally accepted. It took another year and a half before she was ready for Reginald to propose, and of course he did. They were married two days after the Conference.