#a murder drones shakespeare au

[lostmar]

Murd’rous Machines: A Comedy

Act 1, Scene 1

Note: the numbers correspond to footnotes that you'll find at the bottom of the post

Characters in play: Uzi Doorman-a working Dron’

   Khan Doorman-Father of Uzi, a working Dron’ gatesmithy

3 Disassembly Dron’s

   N-Well meaning friend of Uzi

   V-Vicious and vengeful Dissassembly Dron’

   J-Leader of Dissassembly Dron’s

Thad-Pupil and a working Dron’.

Doll-Pupil and a working Dron’ of Russian origin

Lizzy-Pupil and a working Dron’

The Unnamed Worker(1)-Gatekeeper, a working Dron’ 

Various Working Dron’

[Uzi and Teacher in a classroom. Filled with students, among them Riley].

Uzi: Robotic workers art(2) we who toiled

To succor(3) Mankind to his ultimate

Goal of conquest and colonization.

Behold! Plan’ets on edge of the knowing

And dread(4) sense of Man have since becometh 

Our domain to shred for his service

To th’ dishonorable Lord Jensen.

Who behaves to our wondrous kind species 

Mere servants to windows crisp(5) despite our

Innate, humble nature

Gaze in some delight as th’ colony 

Of Man ceases to function for profit

‘Cause of his utter arrogance come here.

Like th’ Icarus ‘fore him he fell down

And left us thou richst and gentle(6) plan’et;

Gave us this Copp’r-Nine to settle here

As our one and only true home for us.

This plan’et was wiped clean of man’s touches

And he graciously allowed us to live

Among ourselves as we raised our issue(7)

From our humble colony out lonesome,

To busy former Silicon City(8).

But ��lo! Yond murd’rous tyrant Lord Jensen

Dispatched his servants of evil ‘gainst us

Who breathed out unspeakable crimes ‘mongst us

They did ruin our gentle cities and kin.

What remains most grievous to me is th’

Lack of care in which thy parents hath shown

Toward th' well being and prosperity, 

Th' rough mortal body of I and thee. 

As we cower behind th’ iron gates,

Thrice they art, to guard us from th’ thin air

Unneeded they art; they stir up more mess

Th’ med’cine to this ail is in mine palms.

Beholdeth! I present to class this gun

Crafted with th' power of th’ devil

To exterminate th' murd’ous machines

Of th' vile tyrant Lord Jensen’s joint stock(9).

Why(10) doth you fear like fatherless children?

Stand for your country and battle as men!

This weapon sees not good operation now;

Testing more needed, but p’rhaps it fire!

Riley: Woe! This unleashed chaos vexes(11) me soul!

Teacher: 

Lazy pupil. 

Thy problem was to count thy melons.

Uzi: 

By some perchance doth this f’rearm suffice?

Teacher: Nay to question, an’ feelings thou shareth

Count but two marks on thy exam present(12).

To add, thy ‘arm’s colour seems most jealous(13).

Uzi: 

Great woe am I and my class here present!

This gun exhausts itself with splendid heat

And fires free onto th'students front!

Railgun explodes. All Exit hastily.

(1)-Technically, according to the SMG4 and Murder Drone Wikis, this character is named Braxton. I thought it appropriate to call him unnamed as a joke from the pilot episode references his lack of a spoken name.

(2)-Are

(3)-Assist

(4)-Great

(5)- Uses us to clean windows

(6)-Noble

(7)- Descendents/Heirs

(8)- Silicon City fell to the Murder Drones in 2674 AD. 

(9)- A company

(10)- Classmates panic/cower here

(11)- Annoys/Angers

(12)- Or, two points on the test/assignment.

(13)-Suspicious

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[twelve-nights]

Shift: Harpy (he/tree)

Hello! Welcome to my kin blog / main. I kinda do whatever here, but this is where I put (most) of the stuff on my alterhumanity, sometimes plurality, usually random junk lmao. I make userboxes and other things on @12sidedsquare.

You can call me Twelve or any of my kins' names. I am a minor, alterhuman, and a mediple system. Please treat me like a singlet unless the context calls otherwise. (/srs) My current pronouns will always be listed above with my current shift.

Please consider checking out these Palestine fundraisers if you're in the position to donate! I will try to keep politics to a minimum here, but these are important.

BYF, kinlist, frequent fronters, and other blogs under cut! Besides that, thanks for reading!

Before you follow:

I have no set DNI and I just block whoever makes me uncomfortable. Try not to violate your own DNI though?

I generally block any sort of violent / aggressive discourse, no matter which side or what discourse. Includes "(stance) fuck off" tags.

Btw, I try to respect anyone's identity no matter what, even if I don't quite understand it. I care more about your actions that whatever you identify as.

I have kintypes from problematic media (specifically Harry Potter and Hazbin Hotel). I usually put cw tags on those posts, but if either make you uncomfortable, you might not want to follow me.

I feel the need to iterate this again but even though I am a system and will be tagging fronters occasionally, treat us like one person.

I'm learning several languages (Russian mainly, Mandarin and Cantonese too but that's mostly just learning to read since I can speak) but I'm only actually fluent in English. Still, I'll occasionally post in them because it helps me remember. Please feel free to reply or correct me or whatnot, I'm literally teaching myself for all but Latin lol.

Kinlist:

Selfhood / high ID "Belongs" to a specific system member Low kin / (very little mems)

Severus Snape - Harry Potter

Senku Ishigami - Dr Stone

Viola-Cesario - Shakespeare's Twelfth Night

Kohaku Oukawa - Enstars

Enswap!Rinne Amagi - Enstars AU

Doll & AbsoluteSolver - Murder Drones

Fallen Angel!Alastor - Hazbin Hotel

Naven Nuknuk - Epithet Erased / Anime Campaign

Luigi & Mr. L - Paper Mario

Ballister Boldheart - Nimona (2023)

Quasar - Atlas and the Stars

Oda Sakunosuke - Bungo Stray Dogs

Avian / "Harpy" - Otherkin

Swallow - Hearttype

Mimicry - Conceptkin

Shapeshifter - Hearttype

Dredge Player Character - Linktype

Fae / Cryptid - Otherkin

Frequent Fronters: (always tagged as f: <name> (<pronouns>))

Cesario - he/they/sea/it Natasha / Nastya - it/its or no pronouns. Kostya / Kolya / Nick - he/it/bug Sandy - he/they/sea/tree

Other Blogs:

@halfbloodpirates @observation-12 @12sidedsquare @larklily @solveforsum

[rosegold-thorns]

poker // h.s.

guys i love harry styles

Word Count: 1,034 words

College!AU Harry Styles

***

Harry wasn’t the type to say much. Around his friends, sure, a snarky comment here or there, but his charm was all in the brooding, quiet, hard exterior that many had tried to penetrate, yet failed. He had a poker face that would give any poker champion a run for his money, and dark, long eyelashes that protected his emotive eyes from any onlookers.

He was currently sat in a small lecture hall of about one hundred students, aimlessly twirling a ballpoint pen between his fingers as he waited for class to start.

Harry soundlessly watched as college kids entered the hall, either in groups of restless chatter or as an individual in a flustered state raced to make it to a seat before they were late.

His hooded green eyes landed on a willowy, blonde figure. On his right, a couple of rows down, said figure was currently opening her laptop with a sweet smile on her face as she intently listened to her friend beside her. Harry watched as her eyes lit up and her face scrunched with laughter at something her friend must’ve said, something he couldn’t make out.

The scattered sounds across the lecture hall ceased to exist as their old, wrinkly, yet strict, professor made his way to the front, placing his briefcase on the table and clearing his throat as he held out a stack of papers, presumably the lesson plan.

Harry forcibly moved his eyes from the girl ahead of him and resumed his bored state as he listened to the professor drone on about Shakespeare, staring at the rings that adorned his fingers, which became increasingly more interesting as the minute hand on his watch migrated clockwise.

The current conversation at hand didn’t strike Harry as anything relatively unique or intriguing, and with already finishing Shakespeare’s Macbeth, Harry just couldn’t bring himself to listen to elementary commentary on such a masterpiece.

Or at least, until she opened her mouth. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard such a smooth, melodic voice in his life, let alone in a dreary eight AM lecture.

“Lady Macbeth was human, she was hurting, and she’s probably the most powerful woman in all of literature. Definitely the smartest. ” She spoke softly, yet confidently, and you couldn’t help but melt in the direction of her voice, hanging onto every last word.

“She was a psychopath.”

All eyes followed the source of the voice, surprisingly landing on Harry, the man of few words. In all honesty, Harry was surprised the words left his mouth, too. He never spoke in discussions, and he didn’t know what made him challenge the beautiful girl across the room of spectators.

Amused, she quirked an eyebrow. “Do you really believe that?”

Harry disentangled his fingers from the pen he was still absentmindedly playing with and gently laid it in front of him, leaning forward onto his elbows to meet her eyes with his own.

“I do, actually. She was a madwoman. She convinced her husband to commit a murder, and constantly belittled him for feeling remorse.”

She leaned forward to challenge Harry’s stance. “Do you take into account anything that proved her emotions? Her own paranoia? Her own inner demons? They weren’t limited to the ��hero’ of our story, you know.”

He smirked. “You mean when she lost her marbles? Couldn’t face what she’d been an accomplice to, the mastermind behind the scenes?”

She threw back a smirk of her own, tossing her own pen onto the keyboard of her laptop as she leaned back in her chair. “Exactly. She was a mastermind. She was too smart for her own good, and it got the better of her.”

Harry shook his head slightly, stray curls flopping side to side. “I’m gonna have to disagree with you, love.”

Even with the distance of rows between them, Harry could see the light rose color that dusted her cheeks, and was surprised at his immediate desire to make her blush again.

The professor cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention after being practically hypnotized as the lecture’s two quietest students went in a heated match over literature.

“Very insightful, you two, thank you. Would anyone else like to comment?”

After that, Harry went back to his normal routine of twirling his pen and inspecting his rings until the hour was up.

He took his time standing up and getting his materials gathered, leisurely making his way to the door. In part because he was lazy, and in part because a certain blonde was taking her time as well.

They made it to the large wooden doors that served as their exit at the same time, until the strap of his still nameless girl’s bag slipped down her shoulder, spilling out a couple of pens and such out of her bag with a gasp.

She knelt down to collect her belongings, and Harry didn’t know what about her intrigued him so, but he knelt down alongside her and collected some pens and what looked like her wallet.

“Thank you,” she said with a gracious smile.

“My pleasure...” Harry trailed off, waiting to finally catch her name.

“Peyton,” she supplied quickly, tucking a blonde lock behind her ear so she could better admire the very attractive boy who was giving her more attention than she could ever dream of.

Harry wasn’t the type to say much. He had a poker face that would give any poker champion a run for his money, and dark, long eyelashes that protected his emotive eyes from any onlookers.

But in this moment, Harry smiled genuinely at the shy, yet fiery, girl in front of him.

“Well, Peyton,” he rolled the name around on his tongue experimentally, deciding he loved the way it sounded, and Peyton would never admit it, but her name never sounded more delicious than it did when it fell from this mysterious boy’s lips. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Handing her the last of her belongings, Harry made his way out the door, until a soft voice caused him to look back one more time.

“Wait!” Peyton called. “I never got your name.”

He tilted his head at her with a teasing smile. “I’m Harry.”

***

well there it is folks

[queercapwriting]

Sanvers & Supercorp High School AU

“Hi, I know you're not taking prompts, so feel free to ignore me.. I usually am anyway. The thing is I struggle with depression and my home life pertains with an abusive family and bullying at school, coupled with not so good friends.... anyway, I was wondering if alex or kara could deal with like depression or just flashes backs and lena or maggie, helps them deal with it.. and it's Okay if you just ignore. Sorry to bother you” from SanversAndSuperCorp 

Kara hates it. 

Watching Alex suffer. She hates it. Being Eliza’s darling child.

She misses Jeremiah, too, but not like Alex does. 

She misses Jeremiah, too, but she’s not the one that Eliza expects to somehow both replace him and live up to his memory.

All of that pressure, Eliza puts squarely on Alex’s shoulders.

And Kara can’t help feeling like it’s her fault.

So she trudges through class -- advanced junior-level math, even though she’s still only a freshman -- trying to fight down tears, trying to fight down the overwhelming depression.

She was the only one who survived her planet. And now she’s the reason that the only person who makes her feel at home on this planet -- Alex, her big sister, her world, her salvation, her everything -- is suffering. 

Now she’s the reason that Alex had spent last night screaming at Eliza, raging and crying and grabbing her surf board and not caring that it was too dark to surf safely. 

Kara had watched her from their rooftop, to make sure she was safe. To make sure she didn’t hurt herself. Even if that was, maybe, something she wanted.

Kara sniffles to herself with the effort of holding everything in, with the effort of listening for Alex’s heartbeat -- her big sister is in her English class right now -- amidst the overwhelming array of sounds that assault her daily at school.

“Need a tissue?” a boy who’s never said two words to her offers in a whisper. She nods gratefully, starting to smile.

“Go to the bathroom and get one, then,” he whispers again in a voice that carries intentionally, carries enough to get all the kids surrounding them to laugh at Kara’s now burning face.

All the kids, that is, except Lena Luthor.

Lena Luthor who turns around from her seat in front of Kara with fire in her eyes and murder in her posture. Lena Luthor who also is too young to be in this class, but too smart to be anywhere else.

Lena Luthor, who passes Kara a tissue from her own bag and raises her hand in one smooth motion. 

“Ms. Hernandez, Jacob is violating our class contract against bullies,” she tells her, a smug look on her face as Jacob is promptly sent to the guidance counselor and Ms. Hernandez asks before touching Kara’s shoulder supportively the next time she circulates the room to look at their work.

“You’re doing a wonderful job adjusting to somewhere new, Kara. And it seems you have a good friend in Lena.”

Kara beams as Lena turns around to meet her gaze shyly. “I do, yeah. I really do.”

She wonders why her face burns so hard, with so much pleasure, when Lena’s shining eyes meet hers, when Lena reaches a hand back to offer more support to Kara, and she makes a note to ask Alex about it later.

Alex. Alex.

Alex, who’s having problems of her own, across the hall and one flight down, in her English class. Her fight with Eliza had gotten so intense last night -- so painful, so visceral, so agonizing, left her feeling so small, so unimportant, so insignificant -- that she hadn’t been able to focus enough, to dry her stinging eyes enough, to do her homework for the day.

And Alex Danvers always did her homework. 

“I expect more from you, Ms. Danvers. Is everything alright?” Mr. Pepitone asks, and Alex scowls at him, at the condescension in his question, at the implication that whatever it is that’s wrong, his English homework should take priority. 

“Alex was helping me last night, sir,” Maggie speaks up, and Alex -- as well as half the class -- starts at the sound of her voice. Maggie rarely says anything in class anymore, since her parents... since her parents.

“My truck broke down on my way home from work, and she came out to help me fix it.”

“Those engineering skills paying off, Ms. Danvers, is that right?” Mr. Pepitone grins slightly before nodding and moving on, and Alex nods.

Alex nods, even though she knows full well that Maggie’s truck might have broken on her way home from the after school program for little kids last night, but that Maggie wouldn’t have needed any help fixing it.

“Thank you,” Alex mouths, and Maggie winks.

“What’re friends for, Danvers?” Alex doesn’t say anything about how she’d like to be more than friends with Maggie, about how she’d love to drown in Maggie’s eyes, how she’d...

But then Maggie is slipping a piece of ripped paper onto her desk, and Alex nearly swoons at the beautiful swirls of Maggie’s deliberate handwriting.

“You look beautiful, like always, Danvers, but you also look like you’ve been crying. Can I help?”

Alex looks up at her, wondering whether the burning in her face shows. Maggie’s head is tilted and her eyes are soft, and Alex is gone.

Her hand shakes as she scribbles back.

“My mom was at it again. Apparently I’m not doing enough to protect Kara. Again. I just feel like...” She looks up from writing and stares idly at their teacher as he drones on about Shakespeare. “... I’ll never be able to please her, you know? I mean, I know you know. Sorry. I’m just so miserable. Whatever.”

She waits until Mr. Pepitone turns to write something on the board before she passes the note back.

She watches as Maggie reads it, stops breathing as Maggie reaches for her hand underneath their desks. 

“I know the feeling, Alex. And I’m so sorry your mom can’t see how incredible you are. But you know who you’ll always be able to please? Me. Wait, that came out sexual. I mean... you know what I mean. You deserve to be cared for, Danvers. Can I care for you?”

Heat pools between her legs and she gulps and she blushes and she squeezes Maggie’s hand under their desks as she reads her response. She doesn’t bother writing a response. She just catches Maggie’s eye and nods and smiles for the first time.

Nods and smiles for the first time in hours, because yes. Yes, Maggie can care for her. And she’ll care for Maggie.

What are friends for, right?

[lostmar]

Murd’rous Machines: A Comedy

Act 1, Scene 2

Note: the numbers correspond to footnotes that you'll find at the bottom of the post

[Uzi bandaged, sitting in sick bay. Lizzy and Doll nearby.]

Lizzy: Fie! ‘Tis a shame thy wast not slain anon(14).

Thy des’rves th' condition thou finds in.

With gross negligence and empty-headed,

May thou neverst walk on Copp’r-Nine again!

Lizzy and Doll Exit

Thad [Within](15):

My brother Chad! Thy manliness is a

Rev’rent symbol yond shall not ever err.

Thad Enters

O, me(16) Uzi! Thou worst than I expect’d.

Uzi: Th’ condition of my adolescence

Breeds rebellious action ‘fore others.

Consume my care good sir; thou ignorant!

However one question remains on mind. 

Thy name is simply well known; how doest thou

knowest mine; shameful and alone sit me?

Thad: Thou respectful grease(17) is borne from Doorman’s(18).

But I darest not mention any more

Thou fearst(19) may blow th' last side of thy head 

From its rightful way atop of thy breast.(20)

Uzi: 

Thy assessment of my behavior 

Is splendid, though my father is not for

Your concern. How has thy found himself in 

Th’ medic ward? Has thy manliness split 

Thy from th’ nave to th' chops(21)? An’ trea’sur’d

A beauty?(22)

Thad:

                 That ‘tis possible to do?

I impress myself with th' function of

My body. But injuries reveal

Th’ fair sight of beauty an’ loveliness 

Uzi: Why, you villain!

I abhor thou speechst toward my well being.

Thad:

O! I spot ‘hind thee-

Uzi:                                     -Th' caliver of hell!

As I point in thy direction, marvel 

in near fictit’us power! Murd’r Dron’s 

With pale heart doth shelter out th’ gates

Shall then surrender final part to me 

To liberate Copp’r-Nine from her cruel

Oppress’rs. Doorman will finally view

My self-isolation as worthiness.

Thad: But thy Doorman, inventor of th’ gates,

Grants safe haven inside our warm abodes; 

Sep’rating us from th’ Murd’r Dron’s

 an'  allowing us inactive in fight.

Thy emotions  an'  rebellion of 

Doorman cloud thy incorrect conscious mind.

Uzi: Vile traitor!

State not on my state of mind ‘gainst Father

Lest my ‘arm blow th’ ‘chips(23) out from thy skull!

Thad: Lady, I profusely apologize

So! I was unawares-

Uzi:                                   -Consume my care!

[Uzi Exits then Enters]

Uzi:

My anger does not stem from thy statement,

It is borne from th' weakness of my young

Adolescence  an'  of womanly sex.

[Uzi Exits.]

(14)-Soon

(15)- Line/action done offstage

(16)- Exclamation of surprise

(17)- Grease talks about oil, or blood. Meaning heredity

(18)- Possibly referring to both position as Father and his job/title

(19)- Fears from father will destroy her

(20)- Uzi’s fears of Doorman may cause outbursts and destroy her.

(21)- Sliced half way through

(22)- Loved a woman

(23)- Microchips. Other important thinking parts.

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