#bottom one is giving lady macbeth

[push-tet]

VVBS FAMILY DECREPATION DROPED!

+ new familys

I also updated the family descriptions from the previous post here. Like last time, I have provided a link to the wiki for new sims to understand the reference

Albany wanted a big family, and he got it without paying attention to the growing strife from within. Meanwhile Goneril has been having a secret affair, in which she found a lifeline and a chance break free from her old beliefs in order to openly express her genuine thoughts and feelings. Will Mrs. Capp be able to go on with it or will she once again withdraw into her shell for the supposed family “stability”? And will Miranda, Hal, Desdemona and Ariel carry on the Capp pseudo-traditions, or smash the establishment to smithereens?

Antonio Monty’s emotional state and career are sinking to the bottom of a “grape juice” bottle. Will his children be able to help him recover from the loss or is he going to need the outside help? Where has Hero disappeared to? Was it an alien abduction, like how it happened to that lady in a red dress? Or does Regan Capp have something to do with it, since Hero wouldn’t stop going on about her until the day she vanished into thin air?

Regan and Cornwall had to move from the big city of Belladonna Cove back to the small Veronaville due to unsuccessful financial shenanigans. It appears that these two will have to move in with, in Cornwall’s own words, a no-good, insignificant, useless and lazy Regan’s younger brother until the duo gains the strength to start all over again.

Bianca Monty has always dreamt about children, and someone from above gave her a clear answer by leaving a young and eccentric Benvolio on her doorstep. Recently, however, the young mother has been feeling uneasy and is growing distant from her adoptive son. How does Benvolio feel about this and is he aware of the reasons behind his mother’s anxiety?

The Snout (my post) - Zhung (wiki link)

Madam Snout, a fashion photographer and designer, once belonged to an influential family of tea planters – the Zhungs. But one day Madam’s worldview took a 180 degree turn and she fled to Veronaville with her daughter in tow to start a new life away from her strict family. Things went on as usual until one day Madam’s mother, Madame Yingtai herself, appeared on her doorstep. What could be a reason for Yingtai to make a surprise visit to her “prodigal” daughter?

The Macbeth - Gloucester

“What did the wise and strict Ladya find in such a sad-sack as Erlolf?” - that is the question which has been puzzling the minds of the upper class even after Ladia’s passing. Can it be true that that stroke of lighting boosted Erlolf’s luck up to 10000%? Can luck be inherited? Ask the brothers, who need to split the inheritance and one of them needs to continue their mother’s legacy. But, all things considered, one of them wants to take MUCH MORE of what is due.

yeha sorry I haven't been particularly active here lately because I worked very hard (and studied at the same time) to FINALLY FINISHED MY PROJECT🎉🎉🎉

The process went faster thanks to my good friends

I hope this month I will be able to give a presave for download, BUT the hood is available so far only in RUS

so until the translation is ready, I will try to make more vv:bs content!

[walkingstackofbooks]

TOS rewatch - Conscience of the King

Jim is SO certain that Kodos is dead, isn't he? Or at least, in utter denial that he could be anything else. Ohhhhh.

Gosh, the complete CONTROL he's maintaining as he looks up the information, only stroking his hands anxiously.

"Stop." I spoke too soon - he can't allow the computer to continue to say about the massacre. MY HEART IS ALREADY TOO MUCH.

Jim's description of Tom as "with a very long memory". How much of this has Jim blocked out of *his* memory? He appears to have no recognition of Kodos, which I've never really thought about too much before, but how deep is that memory buried?

(Alternatively - and I have no idea if this would track at all with any other episodes - but aphantasic Kirk?)

The way he smiles at Lenore definitely would add to his reputation if it wasn't obviously a ploy to get to the bottom of this.

I've never thought about the fact that Lenore IS Lady Macbeth, either, killing Kodos' "rivals" for him so that his future is clear. I really feel like I ought to have 😅

OH, and SHE'S like the cat who's got the cream when he suggests they leave, because it's like he's handing himself straight to her - far easier than I imagine she'd have thought it would be to trap a Starship Captain!

"At the party you were such a brash young man" He's more than ten years your senior, Lenore. You've been playing Lady Macbeth too much.

Why did she let him take her so close to her murder? Did she just not realise what direction they had come in until it was too late and then was trying to distract him with a kiss once she realised? I guess she is not exactly a professional with this...

Oh, Jim. It always strikes me how Tom is an actual friend to him, still - he clearly knows Martha, and she knows him.

Jim delighting even at this time in making Spock confused about knowing about the pick-up 🤣❤️

Oh, he has really played her so well, even without knowing that *she's* behind the killing - she totally believes he's just a charming captain who has quite fallen for her charm.... Although I guess he's the same, thinking that she's just Kodos' innocent daughter who's fallen for *his* charm.

And again, his startled-ness at Kevin Riley. I guess there's technically no *reason* why he should have known the other survivors who had seen Kodos? With 4000 survivors, I guess it could have been quite random which ones of them saw Kodos.

Okay, with his orders to Spock to send Kevin back to engineering, Jim has definitely entered "fight" mode, and as tactical as he can be he's not thinking with his whole brain here.

"Did it ever occur to you that he simply might like the girl?" "It occurred. I dismissed it." "You would." I don't know what this is but Bones, Spock, I love you.

SPOCK'S SIGH. THAT WAS A FULL ON GRUMPY HUFF. Oh he is SO worried 💔💔💔

I'm guessing Bones isn't worried only because he hasn't been snapped at by Kirk.

Bones really feels like he's trying to avoid this conversation here - either hecan guess the conclusion Spock's coming to and doesn't want to hear it, or he already knows and is trying to protect himself privacy.

Spock reaches out for Leonard's arm! "Over 4000 people" and he has to reach out to TOUCH Bones. SPOCK 💔💔💔

Oh yeah, I think Bones totally knew already about Tarsus. He didn't know the Karidian connection, definitely, and he maybe didn't know about Riley, but I really think he knew about Jim. He barely reacts to Spock saying Jim's name, already steeling himself not to give away that he knew.

Oh, Riley. "Someone talk to me!" Ohhh, bless.

"Something to reassure me I'm not the only living thing next in the universe." He's so melodramatic I love him XD

The disinfectant into the milk is so jarring!

The way you think he might not drink the milk but then he does! Aghhh. The drama!

Spock needing to physically protect Jim by making him completely informed Vs Bones needing to emotionally protect Jim by letting him have a little longer in ignorance.

Bones backing Spock up - "he's doing his job!"

Spock and Jim telling each other to get out and go! And Spock of course coming back after doing orders.

Well that did seem like a murder attempt for sure.

Kodos barely reacting. I guess he knows the name James Kirk, knows this might have been coming.

The fact that Kodos barely looks at the paper but still keeps up the charade afterwards. Argues with Jim about Kodos' motives but pretends Kodos is another man. And it shouldn't work too dissuade Jim yet it does because Jim has to be *surer* then sure, he can have no room for doubt 💔💔

Seriously, Bones, recording your medical log with such sensitive information out in the open like that?!

I guess being raised by a secretive af Shakespeare actor probably screws up your childhood a whole lot. This Lenore and Karidian scene is so chilling.

Her insistence in finishing the play. Her quoting of Shakespeare over her father's body. It's like Shakespeare was the more real world to her.

How long does it take him to process that Kodos saved his life and died for him. Because fucking hell that is a HELL of a lot.

[xisadorapurlowx]

My Favourite Pieces of Writing

The Prelude: Stealing the Boat - William Wordsworth

I was first introduced to this through my time in school. This Poem is from Wordsworth's book, The Recluse where he muses about life.

This poem makes me think of times where I have been out with people and have seen the lights on the promenade go out at night, leaving the street in near darkness, if it weren't for the street lamp. It really illuminates and reminds me that although the human race is terrible and horrific, there is natural beauty in the world.

But it also reminds me of how small human beings really are. I used to lie in bed as a child and think about how small I am in the grand-scheme of things. How I am just a momentary consciousness in the universe. Most of the time, I'd scare myself thinking about it and roll over, finding something else to distract myself with.

It's a good example of an existential crisis, as at the end of the poem, the man who stole the boat, can never see the world with the amazing awe and beauty he once had for it.

2. The Spider's Thread - Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

The Spider's Thread details a story of how the Buddha is strolling through paradise and gazes into a pond where he sees Hell. There is a criminal in a pool of blood lying at the bottom of the pond. The Buddha sees that this man did one good act in his life, and moved by it, lowers a spiders thread to save the man from Hell.

This was really my first proper introduction into Akutagawa's writing. I'd only heard about him through Bungo Stray Dogs and knew only of Rashomon. The anime/manga was what really sparked my love in classics.

What struck me about this story, was how cruel and vividly I could picture the story playing out as I read the words on the page. I'd heard that in Japanese Buddhism, they believed that women who did bad things in life would be sent down to Hell and forced into a pool of blood and I can't help but be reminded of that in this story.

Akutagawa has also inspired me into writing short stories more recently.

3. Lady Macbeth's Soliloquy - Macbeth

I have spent a lot of time in performing arts. Growing up, I was always excited when my school decided to put on a play - a break from the boring and mundane sitting at a desk and being forced to memorise useless maths equations I would never use.

I've always thought that Shakespearian English is really pretty and I love this whole speech she gives herself. I can't stop thinking about the lines: 'And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty' and 'And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,' This whole monologue is so powerful.

[crackspinewornpages]

SUPERMAN'S GIRL FRIEND, LOIS LANE #67

Tickets to the new wax museum opening are sent to the Planet and Perry sends Lois and Clark to cover it and he wants them to wear picturesque costumes too. (must be a slow news day) Lois thinks Clark being a king is funny. (no need to be mean Lois) At the museum Clark comments that being a powerful ruler would be fun, (flashbacks to Injustice) Lois thinks she’s kidding, (why you so mean to him Lois) but would like to be a queen.  

Lois goes to replace the fallen dagger from Lady Macbeth, (I guess she’s real in the DC universe) but a guard stops her, the dagger is the original one and is cursed to bring madness. Lois doesn’t believe it but thinks it would be a good anecdote for the story. 

Lois has Clark dress as King Henry VIII the famous glutton and wants him to eat it to the bones. (just so mean to him) As she turns Clark gnaws it down to the bones, she sees this and thinks it proves he’s Superman, (he could sneeze a little harder than normal and you’d think it’s proof) he says it just had less meat on it. 

As revenge he has her dress as Queen Elizabeth I, and she catches on that he’s hinting that Superman will never marry her. 

As they leave the curator gives them souvenir postcards and back in her apartment Lois daydreams of being a queen when a man knocks on her door calling her Queen Lois. He has a tape of her sister Lucy, they kidnapped her, and she better obey or else. 

She has to pretend to be famous queens, and it can be blamed on the cursed dagger, they had it set since sending the tickets to the Planet. The next morning a submariner spies Lois dressed as Queen Cleopatra on a gondola in the bay in the way of their torpedoes, better call Superman.  

Lois calls him Marc Antony and he guesses she’s acting like this because of the curse.

She orders him to be taken to shore and he decides to humor her until he gets to the bottom of it. She can’t tell him anything because her crown has a bug in it, so she has to keep playing along and she wonders what they could gain by tricking Superman. She feigns coming out of it and acts confused, so he takes her home, she doesn’t dare tell him the truth. The next day Superman tells her she paid a barge 500 dollars to take her out in the bay, she explains that it must have come from her savings. He tells her he’s glad she’s doing better and goes off on a mission, she almost tells him, but Mr. Alias planted bugs everywhere. 

Her next order is to go to the Black Castle, there’s a banquet being set up and she’s to play Queen Elizabeth I, the delivery men think something’s up and call Superman. (people just call him for every strange little thing) She calls him Sir Walter Raleigh, he’s in time to celebrate the defeat of the Spanish Armada and Superman thinks she’s demented talking to empty chairs. He uses his Super-ventriloquism to make it sound like there’s a crowd calling for the queen's presence, so she’ll go out and see them. 

The drawbridge is broken so he uses his cape and stretches it out for her to walk on. (in some canon Superman’s cape can be stretched out and sometimes it has a pocket) she offers to marry him as a reward. 

She thinks she’ll play his role to the hilt and she’ll get some fun out of it and kisses him. Again, she feigns confusion, and he thinks his Super-kiss snapped her out of it. (no the super-kiss only causes amnesia) He tells her what happened, and she claims it’s the dagger’s fault, he tells her the delusions will vanish with time. 

After he leaves the kidnappers calls her on a closed circuit on the TV, if she doesn’t play along, they’ll give Lucy more bread and water. Her next order is at the costume ball by the Historical Society, she'll be Marie Antoinette and the ball will include a guillotine to reenact her execution, (what did they plan to use it for) she keeps in mind they’re afraid of Superman. At the Planet, Lois, Clark and Jimmy get dressed and she calls Clark ridiculous for dressing as Superman and he thinks she’s acting normal again. (their relationship is just so unhealthy) 

At the party Lois plays the part of the queen and Clark thinks she’s being affected again. Mr. Alias tells her to keep up the act and she will, to make his hair curl. She takes off Clark’s glasses and she calls him handsome and proposes marriage, (Lois Lane investigative reporter sees Clark in the Superman suit takes off his glasses and still can’t add 2+2) he will when the cathedral is built. For his impudence she orders him to be beheaded. Jimmy thinks Clark is in real danger and turns on his signal watch, this is Lois’s plan, when Superman arrives, he’ll stop Mr. Alias. 

As the executioner pulls up the blade Clark thinks seeing the blade shatter on his neck will prove he’s Superman and drive Lois over the edge. (her mind can’t be that fragile) The shock of seeing the blade shatter jolts her out of her fantasy, Clark tells the crowd it was a gag. He’s wearing a metal collar, and the blade was a fake, Perry was in on it too. Superman warned them of Lois’s delusions, so it was just in case, and Lois feels bad for fooling them all. 

That night, Mr. Alias comes to her apartment, for that trick they’ll feature in her final performance as the Queen of Sheba at an abandoned film lot and she’ll order Superman to find the real missing jewels. Mr. Alias disguises himself as a security guard and warns Lois not to cross them or they’ll finish off her sister Lucy. Superman arrives and she accidentally calls out to him, Mr. Alias covers that she’s waiting for King Solomon. Lois says it’s a hoax like all the other times, he’s blackmailing her, Mr. Alias orders Lucy to be killed. 

Lois tells him the whole plan and Superman is appalled she’d get her sister killed to expose him, but it wasn’t her sister, Lucy never wears black. 

The film set was from a flop, The Queen of Sheba, by director Ned King and has Superman tear down the set to reveal hidden cameras. It was all a ploy to get Superman to find the missing jewels. King says he broke no laws, it was all for publicity. (blackmail is a crime) The Lucy actress is the heiress Clarice Von Dorn, who starred in the flop. She’s angry, she backed him with a million dollars to make her a star and he ruined her, and she dumps a plant on him for the humiliation. Lois films the beat down, when the movie word sees It, he’ll need a new alias. (cue laugh track) 

Lois is at the beauty parlor thinking about how every reporter wants to interview a foreign ambassador, she needs to get the exclusive. At the parlor Lois sees Lois...La Flamme, the famous temperamental French movie actress, Bombshell of the Boulevards. She’s tired of the attention and wants to be alone and goes bike riding instead of the ambassador’s party. So, Lois, seizing an opportunity, disguises herself as Lois. (and just steals this lady’s dog I guess but she did abandon it a a beauty salon) 

She goes to Ambassador Vandergilt’s party, (is this a nod to wealthy American elite Vanderbilt) Clark sees her in the cord and thinks she reminds him of someone. (Clark Kent investigative reporter with like 20 different types of vision but apparently has face blindness) Also he was invited to the party as Superman. 

Lois avoids the other guests and gets close to Vandergilt, he’ll answer her question about him if she answers his questions about her. (oh we’re playing that game) He then gets distracted when Superman arrives and entertains them by drinking a sword he melted. The guest, Count Armand, gifts Lois a cooker with her favorite dish, snails.  

She can’t eat them but can’t give herself away, so she complains they have too much sauce and being the temperamental diva, knocks the cooker over. Vandregilt asks her to meet him later at the Charlton Hotel to answer her questions (which is the opposite reaction I’d have if someone scattered hot coals all over my nice floor) and Superman figures out it’s Lois in disguise to get the scoop. 

As Lois leaves Clark meets her outside, he saw the latest La Flamme movie and Lois didn’t, if he quotes the movie he’ll know for sure, it’s a marriage proposal. Lois wonders what got into Clark and tells him she’ll only marry Superman. With proof Clark walks away dejected and thinks he should teach her a lesson for using such tactics to get a story. (even though you all do this all the time) Lois is worried about the rejection and will keep an eye on Clark, while Clark scolds a boy for squirting a girl with a water pistol Lois sees and thinks it’s real. 

She throws the gun into the river and tells him not to do anything rash and this gives him an idea on how to teach her a lesson. At the Charlton Lois can’t wait to get out of the wig, she keeps worrying about Clark. Count Armand shows up angry she jilted him for Superman, she’ll marry him or else. 

Meanwhile, on the roof, Clark is investigating a robbery from a hotel room and sees an out-of-control truck, so he leaps off the roof to change midair, (flashbacks to Superman IV) only for Lois to see him falling, she can’t look, believing it’s her fault for rejecting him. 

Superman just hopes she didn’t see him switch, (she just saw you jump off a building) she runs out and asks if Clark is safe, he tells her Clark is fine thinking her guilty conscience prevented her from finding out his identity. (she was worried for your life that was the least on her mind) Armand demands a duel to the death since he captured the heart of Lois. Lois says it’s useless, he’s invulnerable, Superman agrees if he insists. Later it’s a shooting duel but Superman refuses to shoot. 

Lois thought it was silly of her to worry as the bullet bounces off of him but it ricochets and hits Armand. Lois reveals she was impersonating Lois La Flamme, it was a stupid hoax, she won't do it again. (liar) Superman tells Armand to get up, it was Jimmy in disguise (who else could it be) to teach her a lesson, (that you both are emotional abusing asses) Lois is so relieved she could cry. 

Later, Lois meets Clark for a date, he takes her to the latest La Flamme film, Love’s Masquerade. (get it) 

(I hope that lady got her dog back) 

LOIS RUSHES INTO MARRIAGE 

LOIS LANE STALKER ROOM 

STALKING SEEN AS ROMANTIC 

SUPERMAN IS A DICK

1 Page 3: gets back at Lois by making her wear the Virgin Queen's costume 

2 Page 6: teaching Lois a lesson for going undercover to get a story

2 Page 8: making Lois worry about his safety and believe she got a man killed

2 Page 8: taking to a movie staring the actress that gave her so much grief

DIDN'T AGE WELL 

1 Page 13: a background character wears a middle eastern costume

SOMEONE DIES 

LOIS PUTS HERSELF IN DANGER  

LOIS IS COMPETENT 

1 Page 12: making an emergency so Superman will come

1 Page 15: figuring out it was a fake Lucy

2 Page 2: Lois successfully disguising herself as La Flamme to sneak into a party to get an interview

HAPPY ENDING  

1: the bad guy got his comeuppance and no one was seriously hurt

2: relatively speaking

LOIS IS A BITCH

1 Page 2: belittles Clark for thinking it would be fun to be a king twice

1 Page 3: makes him wear an embarrassing costume

1 Page 11: calls Clark ridiculous for wearing a Superman costume

1 Page 12: putting Clark's life on the line

SUPERMAN IS ACTUALLY NICE

1 Page 7: comfort's Lois when he thinks she's suffering from delusions and checks up on her the next day

1 Page 9: plays along to keep her from getting upset and feels sorry for her

1 Page 11: tries to comfort her that her delusion will go away with time and is happy she seems to be acting like herself

[whatthathellmouthdo]

can we talk about the cartoonishly literal and not necessarily UN-homophobic tableau of Buffy confronting Faith at the end of Bad Girls? where it’s a plummeting tonal shift from gaybaity gal pals to blonde saint admonishing brunette sinner? where the sinner in this situation is in their best “Gina Gershon in Bound” cosplay, and where instead of snaking the bathtub drain she is doing a full on lady macbeth on one of her Bisexual Tank Tops™? And then in comes Buffy dressed like Jackie fucking Kennedy, simultaneously recoiling from any kind of ethical or sexual ambiguity, retreating to the heterosexual embrace of the moral highground and pink frosted lipstick? I mean what is this dress? this gown i should say. did she wear this to school or did she go home and change? did she decide a nod to midcentury feminine aesthetics was THE ensemble for telling Gayth (gay faith) she’s going back on the straight and narrow? gone are the days of halter tops and pants, this moment of metaphorical gay panic was costumed by Edith Head herself! the gay corruption pulp novel energy. the hamfisted visual purity metaphor. the way the apex of buffy and faith’s sexual tension is the episode where the one without a boyfriend turns EVIL. the implications of where the h*mosexual lifestyle can lead...the way Buffy dodged the GAY MURDER bullet. Buffy was seconds away from being the B in LGBT before her flirtation with the dark side literally killed a man, sending her fleeing back to a life of heteronormativity and ill fitting wool coats. Buffy needs to give Gayke Gayllenhaal (gay jake gyllenhaal) from Brokeback Mountain a caall because when he said “I wish I knew how to quit you” he didn’t know that Buffy Anne Summers in fact DOES know how to quit The Gay. this is the scene where keanu reeves pretends he doesn’t know river phoenix. this is My Own Private Sunnydale. the layers of this...the GAYers of this...like a big blooming onion of sexual confusion and repression the likes of which even Spike couldn’t get to the Bottom of. Dare i say it...Buffy walked so S*pernatural could run (gayly)

[ladymacabrebeth]

The Name That Must Not Be Named (TW: Suicide, SA, VA) by Lady Macabre Beth

PROLOGUE

1979

"Out, damned spot! Out I say!—One: two: why, then, 'tis time to do't.—" An actress recites the lines of Lady Macbeth while the director, Sir Gregory, gulps his throat at the echo of the words. Thankfully, the audience focused on the new rising actress at the university. Otherwise, they would've noticed his Adam's apple enlarged than usual, which he then hid faintly with his scarf. He glanced to the right, and thankfully, the eyes of the audience gazed at no one but the new muse. He peeked to the left, and all eyes were on her—his new star.

"To bed, to bed! There's knocking at the gate: come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed—" Suddenly, the audiences start screaming. As the actress gazes up, she sees a woman with long black hair wearing a distressed white gown gasping for her last breaths. Around her neck was a rope tied onto the battens of the theater. The blood from the woman's neck dripped on the actress's forehead, which led her to scream and run backstage. The audience started leaping from their seats and finding their way to the exit. And at the orchestra, a bunch of audiences draped with bell bottoms, long black hairs parted in the middle, climbed their way out of the seats. It was the night that changed the spirit of that theater. 

PRESENT

2015

"So that's Marina, right?—"

"Shhh! You can't say her name, especially inside the theater." Candice, the sophomore, warns Laurence, the freshman. 

"Oh, sorry. Why not?" 

"Call her M only. It's a long story. People have reported seeing her ghost whenever they say her name. So it's best to call her M if you don't want her spirit to haunt you." 

"Oh, okay—"

"Alright, freshies! Settle down, please. We will now enter the theater." Sir Eric beckons the students inside. "There's no going back once you enter the premises. Remember that." He warns the students. With hesitance, the students follow after him. Upon entering, a statue with his mouth gaped wide was carved onto the center of the proscenium wall. His expression was furious, like a dragon about to devour the audience. Inscribed below him is the word—liber pater. On the right side of the proscenium wall, there were carved grapes, and on the left, a goblet with wine. The students couldn't help but gaze at it with marvel and fear. And finally, they settled into their seats after. 

Sir Eric clears his throat. "This will be your home for the next four years! Or less than that if you don't make it far. So treat it as if you would treat a temple. The theater is your church—your new religion." He gazes at the statue, and his eyes suddenly dilate at the sight of it. With vigor, he points at it. "Do you know who that is?" 

"Me, Sir!" Laurence raises his hand.

"Yes, you." Sir Eric beckons him.

"That is Dionysus—"

"Correct. Or also known as Bacchus—the god of theatre, wine, ecstasy, ritual madness, and insanity." He takes a sip from his bottled water and then gazes at the statue with his eyes glistening at its sight. "You see, it is only in the theater where we can perform taboo things in a way that is still socially accepted. The most immoral and darkest sins you desire to commit—you can do on stage without the burden of it counted as a sin in your regular life. It's all pretend, and we'll never be accountable for the barbarism that—"

"I'm sorry I'm late." A faint voice comes from behind the audience seat. The students turn their head and sees a girl with pale skin and bright russet brown eyes that glowed in the darkness. On the front seat, Dani, a curly haired sophomore, nudges Belle. "I bet she's elitist." Dani whispers. Belle giggles as she chews her gum. "I bet she doesn't know how to sweep the floor. I'll make her clean it 'til she cries." They both giggle.

"Okay, take a seat. But please don't be late next time." The latecomer sits. "Now, where was I? Right. In your daily lives, you are stiff Apollonians. But in the theater, this is where you can strip your mask off and reveal your true chaotic nature. It is here where madness resides in the night! Anyways, enough of that dramatic intro." He takes a gulp of his bottled water. "You, latecomer. What is your name?" Sir Eric asks.

"I'm Holly. Holly Johnson." She responds. 

"Ah. You. I know your father. You're the daughter of Dean Johnson?"

"Yes."

"Ah. I bet you don't know how to sweep the floor?" He asks while Dani and Belle giggle. "Rich bitch." Dani whispers. "Who's Dean Johnson?" Belle asks. "Isn't he like a well-known acrobat? I know he's like based in Russia." Dani responds. "Oh, I bet she just got here because of nepotism—"

"Sir, why would you assume I don't know how to sweep the floor? Just because I come from a privileged background doesn't mean I don't know how to clean or do chores. We should stop looking at things as black and white—" The students start clapping.

"Damn." Laurence whispers.

"I love her!" Candice whispers back to Laurence.

"She kinda reminds me of you." He responds.

"That's hot of her to speak up!" Kim butts in.

Sir Eric clears his throat. "Okay. Hold up. Relax. I was asking. There's no need for you to be so aggressive and defensive. Remember, you're the daughter of Dean Johnson. You must set as a good example." Dani and Belle giggle. 

Finally, the orientation ends, and Holly bumps into Candice. "Hi! I'm Candice." She extends her hand to Holly. "Hi, I'm Holly. Nice meeting you!" She smiles. "I like what you did in there." Candice smiles at Holly in the aisle while Sir Eric passes by, brushing his arms at Candice.

"Okay, guys! Come forward!" Dani and Belle beckon the students. They move forward towards the sophomores. "Okay, so we will be your heads in the production, along with Candice. Where is she?" Dani gazes at the exit and finds Candice standing beside Sir Eric. "Whore." Belle mumbles. "Anyways, okay, let's start. So we have a bunch of rules here in the theater. All late comers will drink a late shake as a punishment. Except for today. Today is an exception since it's just orientation." Dani glares at Holly. "And remember that here in theatre, you will start from scratch and your achievements from kinder until high school won't count. Think of it as if you're reborn—as if you're nothing—a blank slate. You're a nobody here until you make a name for yourself. Okay?" 

"Okay." The students respond.

The next day approaches, and the students gather in a circle on stage. Thankfully, Holly was early. However, one person went in late. It was Tia—a classmate of Holly's since high school. "You! Your late! Come here!" Dani beckons Tia. On the center of the stage, Belle pours coke into a plastic cup, then ketchup, gin, water, chocolate, and coffee mixed in one. "Drink this." Belle hands over the cup to Tia. "Prove to us that you belong here." 

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" The students chant. Tia takes a deep gulp from her throat and slowly grabs the cup. She squints her eyes as she sips the drink. And finally, she finishes and everyone cheers except for Laurence and Holly. "Excuse me, I need to go to the comfort room." Tia excuses herself. Holly gazes at her. "Excuse me, me too." Holly excuses herself. 

In the comfort room, Tia gags at the toilet bowl. "Tia? Are you alright?" Holly asks. Tia purges the late shake on the toilet. Finally, she wipes her mouth, but it still has bits of the vomit. Tia goes to the sink, but there's no water. She tries the others, but there's none too. "Here." Holly hands over some tissues. "Thanks." Tia responds. "I didn't like what they did to you." Holly utters. Tears start flowing from Tia's eyes. "It's not like this in the corporate world. Bosses don't do that because they're professional. My Mom is going to get angry when she finds out—"

"Shhh! Come here." Holly offers a hug. Afterward, they head to the 2nd orientation.

"Okay, so I want to inform you all that sponsorships for this play is required. You all need to ask your friends, family, and schoolmates for money to fund this play. The company doesn't have much money. So if you love theatre—do this. Prove your love, devotion, commitment, and passion by doing so!" Dani commands the new students. "You can do this by contacting people you know around the campus to ask or contact companies or brands willing to sponsor cash or in-kind. Preferably, the in-kind should be items usable as props. You may use the telephone at the office. That would be your first task to prove us you're worthy in this company." Belle adds.

Finally, the students exit the theater to begin on their first task. Holly walks towards an empty hallway to contact her Mom on the phone until she sees Candice approaching her direction. Her once bright aura dimmed into something of a murky shade. Holly noticed bruises on her face, arms, and legs. Her hair was disheveled too. "Hey, Candice. Are you alright? What happened?" Candice covers her bruises. "I-I-I was—" Tears start pouring from her eyes. "He-he-he took it too far. No one will believe me. He's too powerful. They'll call me a slut—" 

"Shhh. I believe in you." Holly gives her a hug while Candice mourns on her shoulder. "You believe me?" With bloodshot eyes, she gazes at Holly. "Yes. You should report him."

"No one will believe me. Look at the way I dress. They'll say it was my fault—"

"They'll believe you. Look at the bruises on your body. You have evidence. And the next time it happens, secretly record it on your phone." Holly suggests. 

At the office, Laurence enters with hesitance. He sees Sir Gregory sitting on the sofa with his cigar resting on the ashtray. Laurence clears his throat. "S-s-sir Gregory. I-i-it's great to meet you." He extends his arm. Sir Gregory doesn't shake it and browses through a script. "I-I-I'll be taking calls for sponsorship. May I use the—" 

Sir Gregory finally shuts the script close and browses at Laurence from head to toe. "Perfect. Call Miss Esmeralda McFarlane for sponsorship." Sir Gregory hands over a strip of paper with a number. With hesitance, Laurence grabs it. "B-b-but Sir, isn't she the daughter of the late dictator—"

"Do as I say. Pronto!" Sir Gregory exclaims. 

"O-okay, Sir." With trembling hands, Laurence starts dialing the number. "H-hello—"

"Oh, and don't forget to invite her." Sir Gregory takes a puff of his cigar. "Yes, Sir." Laurence nods his head.

Outside the office, a lady draped with jaguar printed pants, a white blouse, pearl necklace, black Prada hand bag, and nude pumps knocks on the glass door. The Manager, Gary, opens the doors. "How may I help you, Ma'am?" The Manager asks. "Hi, I'm Holly's Mother. She's one of the new students, and she called me earlier to say that your company is looking for sponsorships for the play?" She grins. "Yes! Yes, come on in." She remits the money, and afterward, Gary shuts the door close.

"Hey, Papa Greg!" Gary beckons Sir Gregory. "What—you hairless hag?" Sir Gregory responds as he flips the pages of the script. "Look what we have!" He flashes the money. "Perfect! Keep that to yourself. Besides, we have money coming from Esmeralda. She never fails to donate." He chuckles while Gary grins as he hides the stash of cash on his drawer. From the glass door outside, Kim catches a glimpse of them laughing as they keep the money. She enters and lines up behind Laurence at the telephone booth. "Fuck her Mom—dumb ass bitch." Gary chuckles. "Money for me!" They giggle while Kim pretends not to hear. 

The following day, the students approach the theater with shock as they see police men gathered outside. As the door opens, two police men bring Sir Eric out with handcuffs on his hands. "Justice works, after all." Holly mumbles. "What happened?" Tia asks. "Sir Eric coerced—"

"Candice." Tia cuts her.

"Yes. How did you know?" Holly asks.

"I'm not stupid. I see how Sir Eric brushed his arms against her." Tia mumbles.

"She's such a slut, right?" Belle cuts. "Well, that's what she gets for being a whore. But oh no, I'm going to miss Sir Eric. What a pity! It's her fault they're firing our favorite professor. Whore." Tia and Holly silently look at each other. "I bet she did it for the grades." Dani adds. "Oh bitch, I wouldn't be surprised." Belle and Dani giggles. "Let's go." Holly beckons Tia. 

"Hey Holly."  Kim approaches her. "Hey, what's up, Kim?" Holly responds. "Hey, don't get mad, but I overheard this from the office." Kim looks down as she fumbles her fingers. "Uh huh?"

"Okay, so your Mom donated for sponsorship, right?" 

"Yep." Holly responds.

"Okay, so after that, they hid the cash under the table. Sir Gregory said that Sir Gary can keep the cash as extra money since Esmeralda McFarlane is funding the whole play." Kim explains while Holly clenches her fist. "Lastly, I heard them call your Mom a dumb ass bitch." Kim breathes while Holly doesn't respond. "I'm sorry, but I think you deserve to know."

"Thanks for telling me, Kim. One sec, give me time alone." Holly's voice cracks as she responds.

"Where are you going?" Tia and Kim asks. 

"The bathroom." Holly approaches the comfort room with her clenched fists shaking. She shuts a cubicle door and starts banging it with her hands. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! You don't say that to my Mom! You don't disrespect her like that! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She bangs on the cubicle door until the hinges come loose. The door falls on the toilet as she heads to the sink. She spreads her arms on the sink and slowly gazes at her reflection with bloodshot eyes. Suddenly, the comfort room is silent except for her breath echoing. And then she smashes the mirror with her right arm. "Fuck!" The glasses shatter into pieces. A tiny portion of it cuts into her right arm. 

"Oh dear! Oh dear!" A professor enters. It was Professor Barbara. "Oh no sweetie. Your arm!" She approaches Holly, whose face has turned red from all the rage and bleeding arm. "What happened dear?" 

"I-I-I already donated money, but it wasn't enough to please them." Holly sobs. "Oh dear, let me tell you. The truth about life is that you can't please everyone, no matter how hard you try. The least you can do is know that you did your best. Alright?" Professor Barbara utters as she washes Holly's right arm on the sink. "I-I-I'm so sorry for the mirror. I couldn't help—"

"Oh, sweetie, never apologize for what you feel, okay?" She strokes Holly's hair on the side. "Don't seek approval of your worth from them, okay? I know you're smart and got in this program for a reason. Remember that. So chin up and never let that crown fall." Professor Barbara gives her a hug. 

The following day, Laurence and Tia walked towards the steps of the university. At the steps, Dani and Belle were giving out flyers for their feminist organization, Pink Youth. "Join Pink Youth, where women support women!" Dani and Belle hands out a flyer to Laurence and Tia. Upon walking forward, Laurence rolls his eyes. "How could they claim themselves as feminists when they didn't support Candice's side?" 

"You're right." Tia responds. "Instead, they slut-shamed her. Sick." Tia's eyes augment. "Fake hypocrites." Laurence utters. "Where's Holly?" He asks. "She's still at the clinic, I think." Tia responds. "Ah."

As Laurence and Tia enter the theater, they get surprised by the appearance of Esmeralda McFarlane. "What the hell is she doing here? Isn't she the daughter of the dictator?" Tia utters. "Yep." Laurence gulps while the rest of the campus talk in whispers upon seeing her. "Nasty." Tia whispers. "True." Laurence replies while he fidgets his arms behind his back. "One moment, I'll be right back." Laurence heads to the bathroom. "Sure, I'll just be here." 

In the bathroom, Laurence drops on his knees and starts purging what he's eaten for breakfast. Outside the theater, Holly finally arrives. "You're here. How are you feeling?" Tia asks. "Much better." Holly responds. "You know me—I'll never give up." Holly wipes the tears from her face. "You ready for acting class?" Tia asks. "Bring it on." 

"Okay, let's start with Athena!" Sir Gregory beckons the first student on stage. "Okay, recite Juliet Capulet's monologue in Act 2 Scene 2. And scene!"

"O Romeo! Romeo! Wherefore art though Romeo—"

"Cut! I can't hear you! Project your voice! Louder!"

"O Romeo! Romeo! Where—" Athena repeats.

"Again! Your voice is so soft!"

"O Romeo—"

"Stop! You're wasting my time here. You won't make it far with that mouse of a voice you have! Out! Get out of my stage! Next, please!" Sir Gregory yells. Athena exits the stage and then out of the theater. As she walks in the hallway, tears start pouring from her eyes. She bumps into Candice, who has finally returned on campus. Candice gazes at Athena with worry.

Backstage, Laurence puts his makeup on his dresser. Candice arrives with her bruises covered with concealer. On her arms was a Ouija board. "Hey, Candice! How're you doing? You're back!"

"Uh huh." Candice gives Laurence a hug. "Who's next?"

"Kim, I think." Laurence responds as he strokes the blush on his cheeks. "Okay. By the way, I ran into Athena earlier. She had a black aura around her—"

"Oh you and your superstitious self! Anyways, what's with the Ouija board?" Laurence asks while he glides the lipstick on his lips. "I'll tell you later."

Kim enters the stage with her hands fidgeting. "You, chinky eyed woman." Sir Gregory points at her with a knife. "Do as I say." Kim nods her head as she looks on the floor. "I want you to reinact your first menstruation." The students look at each other and whisper in silence. Little by little, Kim starts touching her abdomen and making painful sounds. "Louder!" Sir Gregory yells. Kim lets out a loud moan. "Okay, next, I want you to pull your panty down and show us the blood." Hesitant, Kim slowly rolls her pants down. "Faster! Show me! Show us! What are you waiting for?" He yells. She pulls her pants down and touches the edge of her underwear hesitantly. "Pull it down! Do as I say, or I will stab you with this!" He gesticulates with his knife. Suddenly, the theater went quiet, and the only thing that echoed was Kim's breath. She started pulling it down while she consciously stared at Holly. "Why are you staring at her? Are you lesbian?" 

"Y-y-yes, Sir. I'm lesbian." Kim responds. "Okay, you're done. Next!" Sir Gregory yells as Kim runs backstage. Holly finally entered the stage while Sir Gregory beckoned some male ensemble to join. "Okay, for this one, I want you to reinact Marquis De Sade's 120 Days of Sodom but in movement." Little by little, the male ensemble form a semi-circle behind her, and they start touching her body. Holly fakes a moan. The ensemble slowly remove her clothes except for her bra and underwear. They start kissing her all over. Something about this strangely empowered Holly. She wanted to win over her professor's approval so bad. "Yes, come on! Sell it to me! Sell yourself! You're a whore, right?"

"No, Sir—I'm not a whore." 

"Yes, you are. We all are. Everyone dies a whore! In theatre—we sell ourselves for approval. Not just in theatre but everywhere! We are all whores because we sell ourselves to get approval by people. So give that your all because you're a whore!" Sir Gregory puffs into his cigar. "Come on now, make me turn straight." 

The ensemble tie Holly's arms in a pole. One of them pours a candle wax on her skin as she moans. "Perfect." Sir Gregory mumbles. "Okay, next!" 

Holly runs backstage and pants. "Who would've thought my first BDSM experience would be on stage and in front of people?" She laughs. "No, Holly. That was very degrading." Candice replies. "I didn't like that either." Laurence adds. "Fuck, the candle wax is stuck on my skin!" Holly exclaims. "Here, let me help you out." Tia approaches as she tries to peal the wax. Bits of Holly's body hair gets removed as the wax gets peeled. She screeches from the pain. "Laurence, you're next."

Laurence heads to the center stage. "I want you to pantomime a blowjob! Down on your knees!" Hesitantly, Laurence gets on his knees and starts pantomiming. After a minute, Laurence tries to get up as he slowly feels pain from kneeling down. "Stay on your knees!" 

"Yes, Sir." Laurence responds as he stays for 7 minutes more in that position. When he finished, he ran backstage and headed to his dresser. "I want to hire a hitman." Tears flow from Laurence's eyes as he wipes his makeup off. "I got a better idea." Candice responds.

"Let's play Ouija."

"What the hell? Why?" They all respond. 

"Maybe we can get answers by conjuring spirits on why the system here is so shit!" Candice smirks.

"What has gotten into you?" Tia asks.

"Let's try. Come on." 

"You know what, fuck it. I'm in. Might as well curse this goddamn exploitative place." Laurence responds.

"You know, I heard that if M likes you, she'll appear as your doppelganger, and if she hates you, she'll whisper your name and show up to you." Kim adds.

After 30 minutes, Sir Gregory finally left along with Esmeralda McFarlane. The students ran to the stage with the Ouija board. It was 10 in the evening. "Anyways, Candice, why did M commit, you know?" Laurence asks. "They say she got envious of the new younger actress who replaced her. But I don't believe in that. I know there's something more. I can feel it. Anyways, let's start." They put their hand together on the planchette. "Hello, is there anyone here?" Slowly, the planchette spells out the words, Y-E-S. "Okay, that's not funny! Guys, who moved that?" Tia asks. "Not me!" They all respond. "What's your name?" It spells out, M-A-R-I-N-A. "Fuck, guys!" Laurence screams. The lights of the theater start flickering. Suddenly, Candice starts crying and shaking. Only the whites of her pupils are showing. "Guys! What's happening to Candice?" Holly panics. "He-he-he raped me! He raped me!" Candice mumbles. "I couldn't take it anymore, so I had to end it. I needed to end my life! He destroyed my dignity!" Suddenly, the group gets quiet as they realized it wasn't Candice speaking. It was her—the name that must not be named.

Suddenly, the lights return, and Candice faints. Backstage, Belle removes her makeup while someone whispers her name. "Belle. Belle. Belle."

"Yeah, who the fuck is that? Yeah I'm here! Come here! Stop playing tricks!" She yells until she sees a reflection of a woman with pale face, blood all over her neck, and down her long white gown that seemed rusty and dried out with blood. Belle screams and runs all the way to the stage. "Fuck!" She cries on the center stage. "Belle! What happened?" Holly asks. "She-she-she showed up to me!" She gets on her knees and starts covering her eyes. 

The following day, the students headed to their Shakespeare class. "Okay, who can tell me why Ophelia is depressed? Why did she end her life?" Professor Jodi Schaider sits on her table while she spreads her legs open. Holly raises her hand. "Yes, Holly?" 

"I think it's because she relied her self-worth and identity on men. Thus, she feels like she's nothing or has no purpose without the men in her life." 

"Interesting take." Professor Schaider replies. "You, Tia? Why are you gazing out the window? You're starting to look like Ophelia!" She spits while Laurence covers his nose from the scent of Professor Schaider's beer breath. Holly gazed at Tia and wondered why she's been so quiet ever since they entered college. She wasn't that way before. She was active and loud in high school. Not to mention, Tia was the batch valedictorian. But something changed, and it's like she'd absorb every character they'd discuss in class. And right now, she emulated Ophelia.

It's as if the theater devoured Tia ever since the orientation. The stage was the stomach, and she got swallowed by it. It tore her from limb to limb, gnawed into her flesh until she was no longer the golden child she was from high school. It rinsed the life off of her. She was reborn as nothing but an empty vessel. 

"Okay, next, what about Hamlet? Do you all think he was really depressed?" 

"Me!" Kim raises her hand. "Yes, Kim?" 

"Hi, Ma'am. So for me, I believe that he was semi-depressed and semi-pretending." 

"Okay, why would you say that?"

"I think he was depressed because Claudius killed his father and pretending for the most part. He was pretending to be out of touch. But the truth is, who contemplates to be or not to be when that is such a philosophical thing to do? Only a sane person can contemplate on the possibilities of what the unknown can bring." 

"Okay, that's a good point. Care to point out what else makes you think he's pretending to be mentally ill?"

"Yes. When Hamlet plotted to stage a play that would trigger his Uncle Claudius to feel guilty and when he decided not to kill him while he was praying." 

"Correct. Why?"

"Only a sane person would think of not killing someone while they're praying because they obviously know he'll go to heaven."

"Excellent!" Professor Schaider exclaims while Holly silently smirks in her seat. 

At the bathroom, Dani and Belle put their makeup on. "You see what happened here in the mirror?" Dani asks. "Uh huh." Belle responds. "That was Holly's doing." 

"Oh. What a pity. Holly might be depressed." 

"Uh huh. Most likely. Poor rich bitch." They both giggle.

At the theater, Laurence and Holly sneak in. "Laurence, are you still planning to hire a hitman?" Holly whispers. "Oh, I wish. But I can't afford—"

"Let's kill him!"

"I'd love to! But how?"

"This!" Holly points at the arsenic. Laurence's eyes enlarge. "How?" He asks. "Well, he likes getting his food heated up. I can pour arsenic on it." She whispers. "Genius!" Laurence replies.

"Excuse me? Excuse me? Who can heat my pasta for me? Sir Gregory calls out. "Staff!" 

"Sir, coming!" Holly approaches. "Dear, could you please heat my pasta for me?" Sir Gregory asks. "Sure thing, Sir." She grabs the tupperware and heads backstage. Laurence smirks at her. She was about to pour the arsenic until she covered the bottle again.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Wait, he's praying."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at him!" Holly whispers. "He's praying right now. He might go straight to heaven if we kill him now,"

"So you believe in heaven and hell? I thought you were an atheist?"

"No," Holly chuckles. "I'm religiously fluid. I believe in the possibility of anything, even if it's undebunked by science. What do we know about the unknown—the things that go beyond life? And if heaven and hell do exist—God forbid—let the ones who suffer in this life rest in paradise 

and the ones who abuse their power burn in eternal damnation."

"So what do we do? When do we kill him?"

"Not now, I guess." She hides the bottle of arsenic on her bag. "Wait, I have a plan B! They have a reading this Friday for Henrik Ibsen's A Doll House. We can change the scripts into something of our own. That will anger him for sure." Laurence smirks at the idea. 

Finally, Friday approaches. The sophomores request Laurence and Holly to mop the floors. "Sure Dani. We'll mop the floors now." Laurence responds while Holly grabs gasoline and places it inside a bucket. They start sweeping the stage and floors with gasoline disguised as water. An hour later, the actors gather on stage for a reading. The stage manager hands on the scripts and pencils. "Dear, can you please heat my food?" Sir Gregory requests Holly. "Sure thing, Sir." She grabs his tupperware, heads backstage, and starts pouring the arsenic while no one watches. Finally, she places it on the Microwave. Afterward, she serves it to him. "Okay, let's do this!" Sir Gregory claps his hand. "Actors, ready?" The stage manager beckons the actors. "Ready!" They respond.

On the script, the cover page says A Doll's House. And finally, they flipped the page. "Marina, what are you doing at the edge of the cliff?" Actor A asks. "I'm ready to jump." Actress A responds. "What? But you'll die?" Actor A responds. "Well, I'd rather die than live my whole life knowing I've lost my dignity."

"What do you mean? I think you're just envious because he has a new muse." 

"No! I'm not even envious about his new muse! I'm furious because he took away what made me infinite! He took away my dignity! My youth! My—"

"What the fuck is that script?" Sir Gregory yells. "That script is wrong! That's not A Doll's House! You stage manager! Are you dumb?" He points at the stage manager. "No, Sir. I swear. I know I got the—" 

"That's the wrong fucking script! Who the fuck changed it! Who?" Sir Gregory starts sticking out his knife to the stage manager until he feels himself choking. 

Backstage, Laurence and Holly incinerate their lighter on the curtain wings and quickly dash out of the theater. The actors start screaming. "Fire! Fire! Fire!" They start dashing out while Sir Gregory stands center stage with his knife. "Who—who—" He starts coughing and drags his body in all directions until his clothes start catching fire. "No! No! No!" The flames slowly engulf his body until it burns his face, and nothing else was seen except for his eyeballs bulging out from his burnt crispy black corpse. In those last few breaths, the only thing that flashed before his eyes were the sins he committed—how he took Marina's youth, her virginity, her dignity, her life, his students’ sanity, and more. 'Til his last breath, that's all that ever played. 

Backstage, Dani and Belle started screaming as their clothes start catching fire. 

At the exit of the theater, Laurence and Holly watched the fiasco. "I guess this is the best performance this theater ever had." Laurence mumbles. Holly smirks as she pulls out a cigarette and uses the flames of the theater to light her cigarette. Nothing but screams of terror and roaring flames were heard. At the entrance of the theater, a lady with long black hair and white dress glowed. She was smiling at Holly. When Holly stared back at her, she was surprised that the lady looked just like her. "Am I dead?" Holly panics. "No, she's been reborn." From her peripheral, a man with curly hair who smelled like wine replied to her. When she looked, the man disappeared.

A day after, the theater was nothing but ashes. Only the face of Dionysus remained. He still looked alive with his mouth gaped open, furious, and ready to devour people. It remained gold and in tack as if no fire occurred. The police and the media took pictures of it. On their left, a woman stood. She had long black hair parted in the middle, bell bottoms, and a face that glowed. The media approaches her. "Hi, excuse me, are you a student here?"

"Yes." The woman responds. 

"What's your name?"

"Marina."

END.

[theminionjcfucked]

Anon request and in honor of DX’s punishment

The BB23 Houseguests as Shakespearean Characters:

Side note: I will be making several references to the text of the Shakespearean plays, so if you don’t what I’m referring to, it’s that.

Alyssa: Juliet from Romeo and Juliet- I’m sorry but what did you think was gonna happen when you act like a bratty 13 year old and ran off with a boy you just met. You did that to yourself sweetie.

Azah: Cleopatra from Anthony and Cleopatra- A Queen for sure but she’s gonna let her crush for that Roman soldier be the death of her. She also needs to watch out for those snakes!

Brent: Nick Bottom from A Midsummer’s Night Dream- An ass who could only get a lady if she was under the influence. What a shame.

Britini: Hamlet from Hamlet- Very dramatic but out for revenge. And she do be spitting bars on occasion 👀👀

Christian: Romeo from Romeo and Juliet- Whiny little boy. Instead of granting you death, the Prince gave you banishment instead, and you’re MAD about it?!?? Art thou a man?? You fuckin crybaby.

Claire: Portia from The Merchant of Venice- She seems laid back and easy going, but underneath she is wicked brilliant and could possibly outsmart everyone. Watch out for this one!

Derek F: Dogberry from Much Ado About Nothing- a pretty goofy military man who thinks he is running shit. Isn’t really running anything. Jumbles up his words and phrases quite a bit. HIGHLY entertaining!

Derek X: Puck from A Midsummer’s Night Dream- a mischievous little shit. Likes to stir up some chaos. Funny as hell and doesn’t give a fuck. We stan.

Frenchie: Julius Caesar from Julius Caesar- We should just all stab Caesar. Et tu, Britini?

Hannah: Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing- She has the sharpest tongue and never backs down from a battle of wits. She is also the fiercest defender of her family. A star danced, and under that was she born.

Kyland: Macbeth from Macbeth- He wants that crown, but he’s naive and letting his Queen lead him down a dark path. Let’s hope nobody was from their mother’s womb untimely ripped, because if so…down goes the King.

Sarah Beth: Lady Macbeth from Macbeth- Slightly unhinged with a maniacal plan. But she may not be able to get that damned spot out.

Tiffany: Prospero from The Tempest- Controlling the entire storm. She is MESSY but in the most entertaining way. Pretty sure she might be a wizard.

Travis: Page Boy from any given play- He was there. Had one line. Then he’s gone.

Whitney: Queen Titania from A Midsummer’s Night Dream- she got duped by a donkey. Big oof.

Xavier: Benvolio from Romeo and Juliet- He’s trying to tell Romeo he’s being a dumbass but it just isn’t working. Now he’s in between two star crossed lovers. Damn.

[mgg-theprettiestboy]

cross my heart (pt. 4)

spencer reid x oc

‘to secure peace, is to prepare for war.’ 

karl von clausewitz

cross my heart masterlist

word count: 2836

Spencer decided he didn't want to just be a casual acquaintance any more. He had almost died on his most recent case, and while this was a more common occurrence, something about this time was different. And he decided not to waste any more time, and to stop being such a chicken.

He offered a small smile to Raye from across the cafe once he saw her. It was ten at night, which was fairly early for both of them to be there. She held up the book she was reading, making him grin as he saw it. She had finally agreed to give War And Peace a read, and was slowly making her way through it.

He could only pretend to read, his own thoughts distracting him. There was an open lecture that he knew she would be interested in, and had already reserved two seats. Now, he just had to build up the confidence to ask.

It took him an hour.

But eventually, Spencer had finished his book a hundred times over, and his coffee had gone cold. There was no more avoiding it. He stood, walking over to Raye’s table. Her tongue was sticking out of the side of her mouth as she focused on her book, and Spencer had to bite back a laugh when she jumped in surprise, “oh! You scared me!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. You were very engrossed,” he said with a fond smile. She smiled in return, “yeah, well, a book like this requires all my attention. I still have to google what half the words mean.”

He chuckled, before they fell into a kind of awkward silence. Spencer cleared his throat, before speaking again, “I was actually wondering... uh. There’s an open lecture on this weekend, it’s called ‘The Queen of English Literature Debate,’ Jane Austen versus Emily Bronte. The guest lecturer is flying in all the way from Scotland to travel around America, giving the lecture in different universities, and from the reviews I’ve read on it, it’s supposed to be amazing. Is that... something you would be interested in going to? Maybe with me?”

Raye blinked up at him, before her lips parted, as if she was going to say something, but then didn't. She repeated this a few times. Spencer was confused if he had rendered her speechless, or if she was having a stroke.

“Are you asking me out?” She eventually managed to choke out. He furrowed his eyebrows, before nodding, “yeah, I am. If thats okay.”

As if she finally realised what was happening, her eyes zoned in on hid face, and her expression softened at seeing his confused one, “I’m sorry, I just... it’s been a while. I don't go on a lot of dates. That sounds weird, I just mean that I don't get asked out a lot.”

His lips quirked up at her nervous rambling, before shaking his head, “I didn't think it sounded weird. I don't either. Go on a lot of dates, that is.”

She sighed softly in relief, before smiling softly, “so, Austen vs Bronte, huh? What do you think? Who’s the Queen?”

“I like to go into these sorts of debates with an unbiased opinion. I don't really favour one or the other, and I like to see if the lecturer can sway me. They usually can't, but its always fun,” he said with a chuckle, “it’s on Saturday, at Georgetown University. I could meet you here, say at three, and we can walk together?”

Raye smiled and nodded at the suggestion, “that sounds perfect.”

“Okay, perfect, great,” he said with a grin, “I will see you then.” His choice of words was not reflecting his intellect right now. He had a stupid grin on his face as he fumbled his way back to his table, collecting his things to leave and go home, and actually sleep for once. But the butterflies in his stomach thought otherwise, and he figured he it would be a struggle to fall asleep. Not that he was complaining.

–

“That was intense. Seriously, Spencer, that had me sweating!”

Spencer laughed as he walked alongside Raye as they left the lecture hall, “right? The professor was flawless with his criticisms. I don’t think I can decide who wins though, Bronte or Austen.”

“Hmm, me neither. I mean, I’ve always had a soft spot for Austen, but Bronte is just so damn good,” Raye said with a frown, “but in saying that, I wrote my college dissertation on Austen, so I guess the at already picks for me.”

“You wrote your dissertation on Jane Austen?” Spencer looked to her in surprise, as she grinned and nodded, “mhm. A cross analysis of Darcy and Elizabeth’s relationship, to the relationship of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. It was genius, to be honest, an easy A. There was so much content, I could write for days on end and never run out of things to say.”

He laughed as she did, nodding in agreement, “that’s.... wow. I would love to read it, sometime.”

She glanced to him in surprise, nodding slowly with a blush, “I mean, it’s not brilliantly written. It didn’t get top marks or anything–“

“Hey,” he cut her off by taking her hands in his, looking down at her as her wide eyes looked up to him, “I bet it’s amazing. It sounds interesting, really.”

She bit her bottom lip, and tried to ignore the way Spencer’s eyes darted down to her mouth when she did, “okay. I’ll print off a copy of it for you sometime.”

“Great,” he said with a smile. He moved one of his hands away, but kept his other hand on hers. She blushed lightly, moving her hand to curl around his and hold it. He felt his heart leap at her returning the gesture, smiling softly at her, before looking down at his feet, “I had a good time today. I know we didn't exactly do a lot of talking for a first date, but...”

He didn't know what else to add, but he didn't have to, as she laughed, “don't be silly, I had fun. Besides, I already feel like I know you... is that weird to say?”

“No, not at all. I feel like I know you too. I suppose it’s from the books,” Spencer said as they left the lecture hall. He didn't know where they were walking to, but he wasn't about to complain. He didn't want the day to end. She furrowed her brow, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, from reading the books you enjoy, I feel like I know you,” he said with a shrug. Raye hummed, “oh yeah? Go ahead then. What am I like?”

He laughed slightly, looking ahead of them as he spoke, “you're a romantic; thats an obvious one. You love adventure, you love to escape through books. You hate horror, and anything scary, and you hate sad endings. You empathise with the bad guys. So, from all of this, I can tell that you’re sweet. You probably love animals, and definitely love children. You won't do something big unless you're pushed to, because as much as you love adventure, you only get it through reading. And you’ve... you’ve probably been hurt before, maybe by someone you care about or someone you know. Because you empathise with the villain, even when they're in the wrong. You’re considerate. And definitely a scardey-cat.”

Raye stayed silent as he profiled her through her book choices, and afterwards. Spencer immediately felt regret rise in him. He couldn't believe that he already screwed it up on the first date. He tried to apologise, “I-I didn't mean to-”

“I haven't been hurt by someone close to me, but I have been hurt, in a... in a strange way. But... I mean, I always try to see the best in people, no matter what. As difficult as that sometimes is,” she said. She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb lightly, a look of curiosity on her face, “how did you figure all that out from the books I read?”

He relaxed at seeing that he didn't offend her, offering her a small smile, “I’m good at what I do.”

She was about to ask what he meant, before he let go of her hand to open the door for her. It was only then she realised they had managed to wander back to The Hideout. She smiled and went inside, going over to find a free table. It was busy, considering it was Saturday afternoon, and not the middle of the night.

He ordered two hot chocolates, figuring it was a safe bet, before going to the table to sit across from her, “I ordered two hot chocolates, I hope that’s okay.”

Raye smiled and nodded, “of course it is. I have a sweet tooth.”

“Me too. I always add an unhealthy amount of sugar to my coffee,” Spencer said, and she gasped, “me too! Tamara always scolds me, she says all my teeth will fall out. I also put a bunch of milk in it too. God, I don't know how people drink it without milk. It’s gross!”

“I completely agree!” He said, as they both laughed. He had the urge to talk her hand again. “I had a lot of fun today,” she hummed happily, resting her head in her hand as the hot chocolates were delivered to their table, “seriously. It was so much better than ‘dinner and a movie.’”

“Well, I didn't want to be stereotypical. And the first time I met you, you were literally buried in books, I figured this would be a good idea,” he said with a grin, as Raye scoffed and spluttered, “that wasn't my fault! Tamara loves to mess with me, but I’m too stubborn to give in. Hence my struggle with the bookshelf.”

Spencer laughed, and they continued to talk until they had finished their drinks. While he initially thought they were so similar, he was beginning to see that he wasn't entirely right. Yes, they had their similarities. But she was so much more than he expected. He found out she had a cat, called Dickens (she called him Dick, for short), and he was a ginger tabby cat. He found out she loved house plants, but struggled to keep them alive. Her favourite movie growing up was Peter Pan, and she had a bad habit of buying candles that she doesn't need.

Spencer never wanted the day to end. But sooner rather than later, the sun set on the drizzly November day, and the conversation seemed to come to a natural pause. Raye glanced outside, and cleared her throat she she saw it was dark, and used the moment of silence to say, “I should probably head home. My sleeping schedule... its a little backwards. I’m usually awake at night, and sleep during the day. Because of my work hours.”

Spencer didn't want to, but nodded, “oh, yeah, of course. I never asked, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m in accounting,” she said, smiling slightly. He could tell it was forced, “not my dream job, but hey, a job’s a job.”

“Oh. I could've sworn Tamara said you worked with the stock market, or something,” he frowned. She shrugged it off, “sometimes I do an odd job.”

“Okay. Well... I can walk you home. Which direction are you headed?” Spencer asked as he stood alongside Raye. She began to shake her head, lifting her bag and clutching it to her chest, “no, don't. I mean, I don't need you to do that.”

“No, I insist, really. It’s dark outside, and you never know,” he stressed, as Raye continued to shake her head, reiterated, “I’m telling you, I’ll be fine.” 

“I just want to make sure you get home safe,” Spencer insisted, feeling kind of defeated at her rejection. She didn't seem to notice his reaction, snapping, “I said no!”

They stared at each other for a minute, before Raye just looked away, stuffing her purse and phone into her bag. Spencer tried to ignore the hurt he felt, speaking softly as he put his hands in the pockets of his coat, “I-I’m sorry. I wasn't trying to... to go home with you, or anything, I swear-”

“No, I know,” Raye said, her tone now gentle. She sighed softly, slinging her bag over her shoulder, “I’m just pretty paranoid about my security, I guess. I live alone.”

He nodded slowly, reaching into his satchel and pulling out his badge, “I don't suppose this would ease your worries?”

She furrowed her brow, taking what he handed to her to see what it was. He couldn't ignore the way she seemed to become even more tense at seeing what it was, and the way her hands gripped the badge just a little bit tighter.

All she could say was, “I thought you were a doctor?”

“I-I am. I have three PHDs. None of them are medical, though. I’m with the Behaviour Analysis Unit,” he explained. Raye’s voice was small, “you're a profiler. That explains how you were able to figure me out through books.”

Something about her tone unsettled Spencer. He thought that she would feel safer, knowing that he worked in the FBI. So why was she more alarmed than before?

“I’m so sorry for getting angry,” Raye apologised, smiling guiltily as she handed him his badge back. She ignored the warmth she felt when their hands brushed. Spencer smiled at her, “it’s okay. I’m sorry for trying to force the matter. But you can imagine why.”

She nodded fervently, before growing some confidence and taking his hand in hers, “would you walk me home? I live about three blocks away.”

Spencer felt his heart skip a beat, intertwining their fingers and nodding, as his cheeks began to glow. He stuck close by her side, as they walked down the streets of the city towards her apartment block. They came to a stop outside an old red brick building, but from the front door, Spencer could tell it must be renovated on the inside.

“Today was great,” Raye said tenderly, a warm smile on her face, “really. I had fun. If you’d like, we could do something like this again sometime.”

Spencer returned the smile, “I would love that. As long as you promise to have read War and Peace by then.”

She gawped and laughed, before groaning playfully, “oh come on, it’s just so boring. But for you, I will try. That’s all I can promise.”

“Good enough for me,” he chuckled, looking down at her as they stood face to face. She bit her bottom lip, before letting out a sigh.

“Are you going to kiss me, or am I going inside?” She quipped, as Spencer raised his brows. He smiled ever so slightly, moving to cup her cheek and lean down closer, “I will...”

Raye smiled softly, leaning into his hand as he moved closer so his lips were merely an inch away, “...once you finish the book.”

Her jaw dropped as he moved away, a triumphant smile on his face as she stammered, “you-! I just... that was cruel. Truly, and sincerely cruel. You will pay for that, Doctor, mark my words.”

“I will,” he laughed, lifting her hand that he held to kiss the back of her hand, “but until then, I bid you farewell.”

“Farewell. God knows when we shall meet again,” Raye said, taking a step backwards to walk to her building, as Spencer took a step back too, “Wilde?”

“Shakespeare,” she giggled, as they continued to walk their separate ways. Spencer made sure to stay within sight until he watched her walk through the door. She glanced back once she reached the door, smiling and waving goodbye to him, which he returned with a smile of his own. He was able to walk home with a peace of mind once he had seen her go into her building.

Raye scaled the stairs of her building with a stupid grin on her face, practically skipping up the stairs. It had been so long since her life had felt so normal. So long since she felt like she did right now; like a school girl crushing on a cute boy. She would do anything to make this feeling last forever. She should have known it wouldn't last.

She slowed as she approached her apartment, seeing the door open an inch, her cat sitting at the door.

And just like that, her good mood was completely gone, as she felt her heart stop, and her palms grow sweaty. She never forgot to lock her door. Ever.

She didn’t even bother to go inside, didn’t care to see if anything was missing or gone. She scooped up Dickens into her arms and ran back to the staircase, running all the way down while diling the number of the one person who could help.

–

cliff hangerrrrrr >:)

taglist: @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @fallinallinmendes @beyonces-breastmilk @spencerlikesapplejuice @pastathighs @gcblers @hushfakebitches @ijustcomeheretoread @thelovelyrose @187-reid @madison-malfoy @averyhotchner @haylaansmi

[nimblermortal]

"What a wonderful freedom, to not care about Shakespeare!” Nimbler screams, opening a tab to analyze the exact speech that Merrick quotes from and yes, it actually is brilliant that it’s that one.

Let’s start at the beginning, in case anyone has not read Lear. King Lear is an old pagan king, chosen by the gods, and all that stuff that lets us play with fancy stage effects and witches. (King James loved witches, and at this point Shakespeare was writing for King James; Macbeth came out shortly after Lear.)

Lear has three daughters and no son, and decides to split his lands among his daughters, according to how much they love him, which he judges by asking them. Of course the first two say they love him more than gold or jewels or etc, and the third one says she loves him as a daughter loves her father, no more, no less. Lear has a temper tantrum and banishes the third one, then splits his kingdom among the first two, who are of course greedy and evil.

It takes very little time before Lear decides to go visit one of his daughters, who tells him she’s not putting him up along with his hundred-however-many retainers, he may have 25. So Lear has a temper tantrum and goes to visit his other daughter, who said he could stay with 50, and - well, they have a bidding war, culminating in, “What need you five and twenty, ten, or five... What need one?”

Lear - you guessed it - throws a temper tantrum, and this is where the speech comes from. Let me just take some of my favorite quotes for this context, and then I’ll throw the whole thing at the bottom.

“Man’s life’s as cheap as beast’s” - the degree to which the immortals have taken life cheaply, but also the way Merrick weighs their lives cheaply

“You see me here, you gods, a poor old man” - and here we start getting into the age of the thing, the old guard, and Lear’s speech starts turning against Merrick

“a poor old man / as full of grief as age; wretched in both!” - okay, skipped back to add this bit because if that ain’t Booker and how they got to this point

“I will have such revenges on you both, / That all the world shall - I will do such things - / What they are, yet I know not: but they shall be / The terrors of the earth.” - it’s not just acts that Lear intends to commit, but revenge for wrongs committed. This speech is not Merrick’s; it is infact aimed back at him

Then there’s a bit about weeping that I just love because this movie is so gentle and emotional and lets people (but especially men) have their feelings.

“O fool, I shall go mad!” - I just think this is a neat bit at the end, given how Merrick is... not exactly in his right mind, certainly from the moment he touches Andy’s labrys, but generally the very idea of the richness of immortality corrupts his sanity.

Anyway, here’s the full speech:

O, reason not the need: our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous: Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life's as cheap as beast's: thou art a lady; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need,-- You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both! If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall--I will do such things,-- What they are, yet I know not: but they shall be The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep No, I'll not weep: I have full cause of weeping; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!

[chandlerrosen]

the hollow crown and dagger of the mind

when: auditions

where: the alderidge auditorium

who: chandler rosen, center stage, all alone

ooc: chandler is auditioning for macbeth! i don’t expect her to get the role, though i do think she’d be a strong contender! additionally, i think it’d be interesting if she played lady macbeth, as she never played a female role before and heidi seems to like to shake things up, plus the guilt tears lady macbeth apart, and though chandler didn’t kill anyone, she still feels incredibly guilty for a number of reasons. also, i think it’d be saucy if she was macduff, whose morality and thirst for justice could translate well to the plot, considering chandler wants to find out who kills orson! extra spicy if macbeth/lady macbeth killed orson, though that is up to heidi of course.

“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, / Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,” 

the infamous words from the equally infamous play rang through chandler’s head as she anticipated her call to action, the beginning of the end. well acquainted with the ceremony of the audition, chandler held in her hand an iced coffee the size of her head, the condensation dripping down her thigh as she silently buzzed with adrenaline and caffeine. soon she would be called into the auditorium, prepared to bare her heart, her soul, the very blood in her veins, and leave it on the stage. just as orson taught her. of course, he wouldn’t be there, beaming up at her performance that she created for his eyes only. god, those eyes. how she missed the way they sparkled and glinted, their familiar warmth soothing her nerves as she uttered her first word, thus beginning her descent, spiralling deeper and deeper into the character she sculpted with the hands of her passion. 

and then she was called, by a voice unfamiliar though not unkind. nerves before an audition are normal - though some may disagree, they are liars. but her nerves were compounded with the fear that heidi knew, and would judge her for her fleshly sins - though sweet, they stung. the sun was beginning to sink as she took one last look out the window and entered the auditorium, the blinding stage lights a familiar comfort amidst the chaos. 

“hello, my name is chandler rosen and i’m auditioning for the role of macbeth,” she said confidently. a bold choice, but this would be her final time gracing the stage at alderidge, and such a tremendous goodbye must go out with an equally devastating bang. could she do it, though? before her audition she considered not auditioning, or simply doing an overdone speech from macbeth. but she couldn’t afford to be cast in a small role, quite literally. as well, it would simply prove everyone right when they swear she only got the lead in henry viii because of who she chose to give her heart to. rumors flew around chandler, beating her over and over again with words that stained and burned into her core. she chose to embrace those scars with her performance. if it is a murderer they want, it will be a murderer she will give. 

but could she do it? could she show, 

                                                         show,

                                                                    SHOW!

as the three witches demand? could she unfurl the scrolls inside her veins that contained her deepest fears of cowardice and regret, confront the monstrous creature that lived inside of her, that was capable of hurting those she loved? capable of becoming her mother? could she show the world the most depraved parts of her she tries so desperately to hide? she must, she simply has no other choice.

“i will be performing richard ii’s monologue from act three, scene three.” heidi nodded as she jotted down notes on her pad, and met chandler with friendly eyes. perhaps heidi wasn’t so bad after all. she was no orson, that was for certain, but no one could match up to him. and if she turned out to be the villain in this tragedy, so be it. more fuel for her fire. 

her body sunk with despair as she prepared her descent. voice lowered effortlessly as she did, she began, “what must the king do now? must he submit? the king shall do it: must he be deposed? the king shall be contented: must he lose the name of king?” she paused, a pained expression on her face as she imagined herself, a despot at his prime, seeing the fruits of his labor and body slipping before his eyes as he was faced with mutiny. “o' God's name, let it go:” moaning on go, they, chandler and richard intertwined, begged for release from their suffering. the words she spake became a river that flowed out from her lips as she became that tired egoist. “i'll give my jewels for a set of beads, my gorgeous palace for a hermitage, my gay apparel for an almsman's gown, my figured goblets for a dish of wood, my sceptre for a palmer's walking staff, my subjects for a pair of carved saints,” they pleaded with their audience, envisioned a world of simplicity, where outside pressures and pleasures were eliminated, their self effaced and transformed into a small cog in a divined machine. “and my large kingdom for a little grave,” pausing, a look of ecstasy and pain, of the utmost catharsis, spread across her face, she waited a beat for the words to sink in and resound across the space. a little grave, the same one orson was lying in, alone. the same one she would call eternity one day. 

the thought of orson in his grave made her heart sink deeper. her eyes glazed over as her voice turned bitter and dreamlike, “a little little grave, an obscure grave; or i'll be buried in the king's highway, some way of common trade, where subjects' feet may hourly trample on their sovereign's head; for on my heart they tread now whilst I live; and buried once, why not upon my head?” voice filled with spite and heartbreak, chandler couldn’t tell who she was more mad at - those who betrayed her, or she, who betrayed herself. betrayal - the thought never crossed her mind until that minute as she reveled in the pitiful richard, who saw his subjects as his children, and their committing patricide on their divinely anointed king. chandler didn’t see herself as the king of alderidge - far from it, honestly. though she understood his words, his desire with every fiber of his being to be anonymous, the burden of others and their bitter betrayal eased off his shoulders. their shoulders. the disappointment she saw in the eyes of those she once called friends, the sadness in the eyes of the one she called my love. breaking grace’s heart destroyed her own, and chandler would give anything to feel that sorrow and anger and betrayal that grace must feel. if only that could mean grace was happy. 

tears began to prick her eyes at the most opportune time as she turns to the fabricated cousin of richard and continues, “aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin! we'll make foul weather with despised tears; our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn, and make a dearth in this revolting land.” weeping joy fills her voice as she, as richard, gives a rousing speech to his woebegone cousin. misery loves company, after all, though chandler felt herself entirely alone lately. she had helen, but her best friend’s light was too bright to be dulled by the darkness of her own depravity. and thus she questioned who her own aumerle would be. who would be alongside her as she brought the storm down upon herself and her peers, who she digs her grave alongside? who would be brought down with her as she plummeted to the rocky bottom of her metaphorical grave? until finally she realized the answer. no one. 

alas, no time to dwell on her own misery upon the sordid stage! for it was richard who required her undivided attention! she quickened the pace, asking her next question with morbid, restrained glee, pontificating on their shared sorrow, “or shall we play the wantons with our woes, and make some pretty match with shedding tears? as thus, to drop them still upon one place, till they have fretted us a pair of graves within the earth; and, therein laid,—there lies two kinsmen digg'd their graves with weeping eyes.” and oh, how her eyes wept. her stream of tears slowed and stilled, her voice traversing the terrain from woe to bitterness, and dropping into melancholic anguish, popping the p’s like orson taught her, stressing the beauty of shakespeare’s words. all emotions dulled by the composure that dignified a king who had naught but his own dignity left. 

she turns to face heidi, her lone audience member. perhaps her new director was just as alone as she was. perhaps they could find common ground, perhaps she could soften the blow of orson’s death. the foolish thoughts of a child filled her head before she realized the obvious - nothing, and no one, could soften this lethal blow. and again, anger bubbled in her - anger at herself, at her own helplessness. a helplessness that she felt within richard, who could do nothing but stand there and talk, concede his kingdom and pray for his life. she spoke with a self-righteous flair, eager to hold onto the scraps of richard’s pride, “would not this ill do well? well, well, i see i talk but idly, and you laugh at me. most mighty prince, my lord northumberland, what says king bolingbroke? will his majesty give richard leave to live till richard die?” they laughed at him. all of them, laughing at a man on the brink of losing his lifeblood, faced with an impossble choice, and one completely out of his hands: to die a king, to live forever in infamy? or to die shrouded in anonymity, to live in peace? to be or not to be, though that question found its home in a different play far from chandler’s mind. 

contempt filled her voice as she straightened up, her final stand against those who dare deny her her love, her friends, her passion, who dare denied richard his hollow crown. she snarled her lip and began her solitary revolution, “you make a leg, and bolingbroke says ay.” 

it was the cowardice in those who deposed richard - they flatter him, only to mindlessly follow the next man with victory written in his blood. they praise him as they once praised richard. as they once praised orson. perhaps, at the denouement of her descent, she realized that she was not richard; orson was. or perhaps it was an amalgam of the two of them - three of them? after the time they spent together, chandler couldn’t help but wonder how much of orson’s soul intertwined with hers, how much blood he left stained on her fingertips, her throat, her heart. she once thought that she would be lucky to have an ounce of orson’s passion and intelligence, but now she worries - for a brief second before she violently effaces it from her mind’s eye - that he left too much of his own darkness. how selfish of him, to break her life and leave her to pick up the pieces. and yet, when they were together, she felt as though the cracks she accumulated throughout her life were plastered with solid gold. beauty cannot exist without terror, after all. 

she took a second to decompress from the emotions of her monologue. taking a breath, she perked up, smiling at heidi who, surprisingly, returned the gesture. “thank you, chandler.” she says before returning to her notepad. “thank you,” chandler said with a sincerity that startled her. adrenaline pumping through her veins, she floated out of the door, confronted by the hazy darkness of dusk. the thoughts and emotions that came up during her monologue, those unexplored territories that chandler feared venturing, were simply something she would have to ponder tomorrow. 

[frenchtoastpanda]

The Leverage finale

Gonna rant in public because @rainaramsay expressed interest. I have no theme this is just my thoughts as I rewatch this episode. Idk why I’m doing this. (Also I don’t know how to format, so sorry about that)

Oh right I forgot that this is a fucking sad episode why am I doing this to myself

Ooh the return of the Steranko! I am very glad they brought that back

I just love when they bring things back in general, like in the white rabbit job all of the companies looking to buy dogson are previous marks and how they have like three brand names for safes that they reuse a lot. It just makes it feel like a real world that people live in.

The theater! Perfect for Sophie! And the mentioned the tunnels, which I believe we encountered in the gold job

Sophie says “I have just the thing” and my immediate response is always “the play’s the thing” even though I know it’s from a different play than the one they are doing

And can we talk about how they are doing the same play as the pilot? Actually I will probably yell about that closer to the end

Parker being all emotionally cognizant and Nate just reciting physics formulas in response

God I love this bit (and I love that they are still including references to Nate’s alcoholism)

Just, Parker, the new mastermind, who doesn’t “let feelings get in the way” (like Hardison - this is the reason he can’t be the mastermind, much to his chagrin. He’s too much of a cinnamon roll)

Nate says she spins problems like puzzle pieces until they click, but I think it’s more like juggling all the fiddly bits inside a lock until it clicks open

HE TRUSTS HER HE TRUSTS HER HE TRUSTS HER!!!!!!!

Zachary is the lead! Love him!

Sophie saying she doesn’t miss acting at all 😏

She is a good director, though

"I'm exactly where I belong" I'm gonna die I am so happy for all of them

Oh no here we go

Cut right to Nate covered in cuts being interrogated about the mistakes he made

"Mr. Ford, how did your friends die?" CUT TO COMMERCIAL

This must have killed me the first time around

I do love this investigator though. I think I remember from the commentary that it wasn't originally supposed to be her, but it worked out really well

Nate looking around like he's confused (and trapped) while not being able to put together a full sentence (I'm not sure if I ever developed a solid headcannon for how much of this scene was him faking and how much was actual injuries from the actual crash) (I'm open to ideas!)

Ellen giving a vicious predatory little smile when she says that she's here to help him

I wish I could do gifs or screencaps or something. This is one of my absolute favorite callbacks! Parker in that little black bonnet thing jumping off a building having the time of her life and the boys do their "twenty pounds of crazy in a five pound bag" thing (whuch my autocorrect recognized as a phrase for some reason? Do I really yell about that but enough for it to suggest those words in that order? Fantastic)

But this time their faces and voices are full of affection. She may be an insane thief/mastermind, but she's OUR insane thief/mastermind

And coming after the white rabbit job where we had that line about how she's not and never has been crazy, the fact that you can tell they are saying this as a callback without meaning the crazy part is just perfect

It makes me wonder how many other times they have repeated this, because you can't convince me they haven't

Aah Sophie's horrible rendition of Lady Macbeth! Same speech, different ways of doing it just as badly (props to Gina Bellman)

Is this the same outfit? Hold on I need to check.

Y'know, I didn't think they changed that much physically over the years, given that they are adults, but going back to the pilot, I keep going awww look how tiny they were! (Especially Aldis. Like I know they had problems because he was getting too hot and ripped, but Damn)

Anyway, the dress is very very similar, same color and pattern, but it very slightly different. I will maybe post my very very horrible pictures after I finish this

Parker is so good at computers now that she has this adorably bored face when hacking! I love that they taught each other their stuff!

Using chaos as a distraction and co-opting the expected response as a cover! One of my favorite tricks!

Parker changing in the elevator! And the boys turning to give her privacy! And this isn't even the first time they did a callback to this! I love my respectful boys! Remember when Hardison turned the David around? So pure!

Ah, we are setting up for competency porn and then it all goes bad! Aah!

I love Eliot's little "wassup?" Before fighting the guy. Points for intimidation, Spencer

My stronk babies opening an elevator with their fingertips

And Hardison's recurrent fear of heights combined with Parker's love of them

She says "I got you" (twice)

Oh god Beth's acting in the elevator shafts

Oh I'm gonna cry

Oh and a "dammit Hardison"

Oh Gina's face

Even in a situation as tense as this, Eliot still takes the time to empty the gus and toss it away

I don't think I've ever seen him check for an ankle piece, actually. How has that not come up before now?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"Age of the geek, brother" I'm sobbing

I mean, so is everybody

Look at this acting!

I love that they didn't go for the clichéd established couple dying in each other's arms, but instead put Eliot in the middle, giving us our yummy hurt ot3 goodness

And Parker sitting up so she sees the other two go

Ugh. Where's that poetic cinéma image when you need it?

Anyone remember the perfectly timed bridge from the pilot?

What number Lucille are they on?

I love that they actually stop in from of the barrier at the bridge, then take a moment to decide before just going for the crazy impossible stunt because why the hell not at this point

Ah Nate and Sophie are holding hands on the way to death too!!

And cut the scene before they reach the top of the bridge. Time to see Tim show us why he's an academy award winner

Ooh and here's where we find out she was lying! (Should this be the part where I started wondering if Nate knew? Probably. Did I? Not even a little)

There was a big twist where the person Nate was facing off against was playing him in the pilot too

But John fucking Rogers didn't play ME in the pilot. I take that personally.

Ooh hints at the true story are being dropped

Ellen is almost adequately suspicious

JUST WALK TWO FEET FORWARD ELLEN! LOOK AT THE STAGE! COME ON!

"You loved them very much" Yeah he did. They all did! Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

She knows he's lying, I love that (just like Dubenich knew Sophie was manipulating him)

"The only thing I ever had"? That's intense, Nate

God Tim is a good actor

(Like I low-key don't like Nate at all, but Damn he is well acted)

And he just turns it off, just like that

Wow

I am really into her little impressed face when he goes all Sherlock and explains how he knows they are at interpol

The glass! Of course Sterling brings him the glass! Not a pilot callback, but a good callback nontheless. The commentary says it's literally the same exact glass every time. I will have to go back and verify that at some point. I swear it didn't have those ridges around the bottom in at least one episode, but I also trust John Rogers, so idk

I love how sterling knows everything from the moment he appears, and Ellen doesn't even know what the black book is

"That's why you joined Interpol? Screw justice. You're the order guy?" What a good line for Nate and Sterling's relationship

Nate's not even interested in hearing Sterling's evil speech of evil about the bailouts

I actually really love the little exposition flashbacks

Her look of horror and dawning comphrension when he explains why he is there is fantastic. If we bring this show back, can we have more of this lady?

Yeah, Ellen, why IS he still lying to you??

Sterling remembered to be cautious about the coroner's van, but not cautious enough!

That's some timing. How did Nate arrange that ? Oh right, this was triggered by the arrival of the van, which he probably set the timing of

Nate's face after "Parker's still in the server room." Yes, sell that fear to Sterling! Make him believe he's right! I wouldn't have thought to fake a reaction to that. But that's why I'm not a griffer

And he trusted sterling to have a snark remark so that he could have an attention-stealing reaction to distract him

I try every time to see the kids going in, and I never manage to catch all of them

Why does Nate turn away here?

God, that really is a terrifyingly lifelike Hardison face

I gotta say, the first time I saw sterling shoot the Hardison corpse, I was really convinced that he was right and he was really killing Hardison for the first time

"Second question... No, Nate, why don't you tell her what my second question is?"

Honestly, the first time around, I had forgotten about that secret meeting between Nate and Hardison

"The plan's the thing" A callback to earlier in this episode. I'm dying. I love this show so much

And they can do that without being annoying because every leverage episode is like three or four episodes rolled into one. Sometimes more!

That's one of my favorite parts, but also one of the very few downsides

I get so excited watching the flashbacks that show how it all happened

Omg I love the thing where they stack! Parker crouching, Eliot just above her head, Hardison looming tall! It reminds me of the princess bride for some reason

Sterling is the Trojan horse, the way out is the way in...wait, didn't they do that with at least one other episode, where the floor was a horrible way in, but last minute they used it as a way out?

Are these callbacks or parallels at this point?

Sophie taught Nate how to act! "She found her calling." Yeah she did! So proud of her!

"Your ride to a life sentence in a secret prison has arrived" So dramatic for someone who knows Sophie is behind the wheel

Ooooooohhh he called him James!

"You and I are not the same" okay sterling

"Justice is always easy" YES GO STERLING wait that's a callback to the justice vs order thing earlier in this episode. I just got that

I have seen this so many times and I still notice something new every time I watch it

Does John Rogers have a tumblr? I want to tag him but I don't think he does

What is Parker wearing? Why is one sleeve randomly yellow?

I can't believe Nate is proposing in a hoodie

I love how the kids pop in with insults and Nate just agrees. He knows it's true

That's a huge fucking rock

"Did you steal it?" "No." "Oh, cause that would have been more romantic"

"I'll steal the first anniversary ring" lol I love these guys

Parker insists he follow the proper procedure

Oh wait, the ot3 are gonna branch out with other crews?

Y'know, in an alternate universe I could have shipped Eliot and Sophie

GOD

I'M CRYING AGAIN

"You're the smartest man I know" where have we heard that before?

Parker recognizing her feelings! (And they've been preparing her for this the longest)

Aah, the circle shot from above and the breakaway, but this time not everyone breaks away!!!!!!!!!!

"You do know that Laura is not my real name, don't you?" Sophie I'm gonna kill you

And then the big obvious callback to the pilot, where Beth meticulously studied Tim's acting to recreate it

Loving the look of this scene. The costumes, the blocking, all of it

And they made sure to switch which parent was crying

Very excited for leverage international. Gimme!

[spectrehqs]

congratulations ! welcome to spectrehqs ashcroft university. under the cut is a list of acceptances for all skeletons. thank you so much for applying & i’m so excited to start writing with you. please take a look at our checklist and send your account within the next twenty-four hours.

ANTONY: liam d’antona written by jason. 

in a sea of applications, there’s something special about one that really sucks you in the way yours did, i really got whisked away. starting with the end and beginning a mystery that would have me hooked for the entirety of your app. lush with detail, i would sometimes forget about the sheer mystery of liam’s acceptance at ashcroft until you drew me back to it. in the midst of laying the seeds of his secret, you painted a picture of a character colorful, interesting and romantic, rife with nods to classic literature and film. even the side characters of the story, his grandparents and father, felt real and alive. i literally wrote myself this note halfway through – “i’m completely on the edge of my seat about why he doesn’t want to get in? it’s killing me.” and then by the end, “I’M SCREAMING.” a natural progression, of course. i loved the juxtaposition of both sides of the page in his letters – his drunk letter vs. his sober letter, and his voice was so endearing and real that by the end of your application, i felt like i knew liam but i also knew TOO much because it was so vulnerable. this application was like diving into a great book and i can’t wait to read more of your writing. 

BRUTUS: christopher ‘kit’ stanley written by hayley. 

i was immediately struck by the juxtaposition you presented – the romanticism of kit’s name, home, and family, contrasted with their line of work and attitude. honestly, your sentence structure in that first paragraph really hit me hard and it set a great precedent for the rest of kit’s story. my jaw literally dropped when i read PENSHURST PLACE but i’m so glad you really went there with this character, going all the way to the top with the opulence and hitting home when it comes to what both ashcroft and the imperium society is all about. if you were worried about writing a controversial character, then stop, because kit exemplifies that in a way that is both relatable and painful. the way you wrote his introduction to lysander PAINED me because when i reached that point in the story, it was so satisfying to see such a lonely boy find such a heartwarming friendship, and it quickly becomes obvious how loyal lysander is to kit, how much he cares for him. the cherry on top is kit’s resentment toward octavia and how his relationship splintered with lysander as a result – leading to our ultimate climax. then when you casually dropped that big fucking secret in so casually at the end...the comment i wrote for myself? “GASP.” because damn, what else can i say? you’re on fire. i can’t wait to see how that unfolds. it’s a bad time to make enemies.

CLEOPATRA: iskra gill written by lara. 

this was not the cleopatra i expected at all – in a good way. iskra would like to be unexpected anyway, i think, she’s that kind of girl. her relationship with her family intrigues me most because it is not one of loyalty, and the way she watches her brother crash and burn ( no pun intended ) after being overlooked for her whole life is a moment that i found myself cheering for as the reader ? iskra is a character that worked herself up from the top to the bottom and then back up to the top again, and has lived several lifetimes for someone so young. her secret at first did not strike me as unique – several apps across the board expressed a secret, harbored love for the elusive octavia, but yours was the one i chose because of that realness, that raw understanding that comes with an unrequited love, and how that transitioned into her affair with titus. i also adored your ‘list’ of secrets, which really served to humanize her in so many ways, and the bachelor in paradise detail ? i was laughing through tears. her last fucking text, and all of the final text messages you wrote. words cannot express. if i wasn’t sold already, your fucking LETTER DRAFTS, all of them, heartbreaking and lovely, i felt like i gained a real and full understanding for iskra’s relationship with octavia and how utterly isolated she must feel now. i can’t wait to see every single one of these elements in play on the dash !

CORDELIA: norah bardot written by nica. 

interestingly enough, norah is a character that not only exemplifies the skeleton, but also shakespeare’s interpretation of cordelia: this soft innocence, good-hearted nature that comes with cordelia, but also a realness. compared to every other character, norah is different because her story is not rife with hatred, anger, or the tragedy of a broken home. norah’s is full of love and compassion – and all the ways that isn’t enough. the tiny details, like the soup kitchen and the way you described her mother’s comments, really made me feel the difference in relationship cordelia has with each parent. this line really sticks with me – “you wouldn’t know rebellion, you couldn’t afford to. naive innocence brushed across your forehead, branding you different.” i can’t think of better words and i won’t try. i am scared to accept a character like norah, of course, her gentle kindness and trusting nature are things that are about to get her eaten alive, but isn’t that the fun of it? you also captured her sheer genius as well, which the juxtaposition of that genius and also that naivety is *chefs kiss* – you get her and your interpretation was so well articulated. i am so fucking excited to write with you and read more of what you come up with.  

HAMLET: thalia lukas written by brooke. 

i can feel thalia’s rage and perhaps that runs in the family; rage for her father for how he treated them; rage for her mother for how she left; rage for society for what they did to her brother. thalia doesn’t come across any of her good qualities on her own, they come from lysander, which i found interesting, and i loved how you characterized her as this hopelessly ambitious person to the point of greed and dishonesty. i think you’ve created this sort of desperation in her that’s as strong and dangerous as any sort of violence and that’s what intrigued me at the start: where is this going? what disaster is thalia going to incur next? i also am so deeply drawn to and excited by thalia’s DISLIKE of octavia because ‘if octavia was a beautiful, blossomed rose, thalia was a thorny shrub.’ – all of her actions leading up to the disaster seem to justify all of thalia’s reactions afterward as well, and what we’re left with is a strong, passionate, disorderly mess that so exemplifies thalia, and every way you describe seems to just scream the outsider-ness that i was looking for and i love that she just doesn’t give a FUCK about octavia’s piece of mind – she’s looking for her own. i literally can’t wait to watch her clash with the rest of the muses we have on board here.

LADY MACBETH: valentine vega written by kiwi. 

i won’t get into how hard of a decision this was, you already know. what i will get into is how hard it was to read this application, it was dark and gritty and just the right amount of unsettling. and upsetting. certain aspects of it were so hard to read that i did have to take a break ( i think you can guess exactly where ), but when it comes down to it, valentine fits into this plot seamlessly, and while you can’t blame her for her past, you can blame her for the present; and it really made me think about the fact that her crime was not just what she did to octavia, but what she did to lysander ( which is actually worse than what she did to octavia in val’s story, in my opinion. ) i love an app that can give me a new perspective on my own fucking plot. i remember getting to the second half of your application and a LIGHTBULB dawning over my head when i realized the connection between the first half of her story and the second half, and i would have to agree with you that octavia certainly did not know the entirety of the situation at hand. but using one murder to cover up another...the skeletons are stacking up, and i love how you took the initiative to explain the blackmail in a way that also involves val – it’s nearly impossible not to sympathize with her when you look at it solely from her side. i love how perfectly composed she seems now and the juxtaposition between both contrasting letters you wrote, the one that seems proper and poised and the other that seems completely unhinged, which i sense is the direction you’re going. i am excited to watch such a poised character fall from grace, but i will feel for her at the same time – which is precisely why this works. 

MACBETH: dante campana written by pepper. 

i was hooked from this line: at first, he did. your characterization for macbeth was just so unexpected because to begin with, dante is such a bright person with such a big heart! he is the warm one in a family of cold hearts! i wrote this comment halfway through reading, at the part where he unintentionally starts a nonprofit: “i'm halfway through wondering how tf dante killed anybody? doesn’t make sense.” and yet, you made it make sense. through his relationship with his sister – and the jaw-dropping, horrific event that culminated in her loss, we learn so much about dante and see a changed person. i’ve been thinking a lot about the line where he learns from his family, “if you wanted love, you had to earn it,” and i think that already sets up a lot for his motivations later in his life story, when he commits such an atrocious act. and i think that’s the pull of dante; he doesn’t seem like a killer. not to me, not to anyone. all the police would have to do is GOOGLE him in order to write him off as being completely incapable. he’s a hero, and yet...the progression into villain is tragic, shocking, and morally ambiguous, just the way we like it. there are so many things about him that make him ‘good,’ but yet can we really call him that? i don’t think so, no, and i love this play on the grey areas, and the ways we don’t see the killer under our own noses because of the way they are perceived. thank you so much for crafting such an intriguing, interesting backstory, and i can’t wait to see how dante reacts under all of this new pressure. i trust you will write it beautifully.

OPHELIA: theresa rigby written by nora. 

my first comment: “u knew exactly what you were doing with this beautifully crafted symbolism, huh?” BUT I LOVED IT, the water baby symbolism was just the homage to ophelia i didn’t know i needed. i got strong sharp objects vibes throughout your application, and it’s hard not to associate theresa with death, but she owns it so completely and i can’t stop thinking about the image of her scribbling frantically in the pages of a diary. there’s something slightly unhinged about everything she does, but it’s hard to blame her – you can see every reason behind her actions in the layers of her upbringing. not to mention that you have such a gift for writing metaphors and comparisons that really bring the concepts you have in mind to life ! the cheesegrater one literally made me gasp, i could relate so deeply, and your entire app is filled with small nuggets of purely good writing just like that. such a treat to read. i also had to laugh at lady macbeth being her favorite shakespeare heroine, the way that’s what resonates with theresa and why, and the way that theresa lives her life is so HUMAN to me, and she completely endeared herself when she clumsily tried to quote Ginsberg bidding her friends goodbye. she’s ethereal, dreamlike, but theresa is also real, and that’s what i loved about your application so much. i was so excited by this application and i am even more excited to see more of theresa, because i know she’ll make me laugh, cry, and everything in between. 

OTHELLO: christian bösch written by em. 

it was the long haul to get an application for this skeleton but so, so worth it. i’m obsessed with your take, from how his history with his sister seamlessly transitions into his relationship with lady macbeth, how you’ve entwined christian so deeply in the octavia/lysander drama on his own, adding layers to his motivation for caving to lady macbeth’s whims. christian himself has many layers, and i wrote on your app, “i have no decision to make here. why do i keep reading this app again and again?” because it was just so fucking good, one of those things you read where you forget about everything else cause you’re lost in it for a moment. also, insanely impressed at the ways you dove into connection ideas with every skeleton, drawing similarities and differences between them and it meant a lot to me how much you clearly went through all the details. also, i loved the little bits of dialogue sprinkled throughout the background, i felt like i got a great sense of christian’s voice long before i reached the letter, and by the end you really empathize with his struggle. you can understand WHY it was so easy for lady macbeth to manipulate him in so many ways, and i didn’t even start talking about max ––– there’s just so much good shit to unpack here, i love it, and i can’t wait to continue peeling back the layers. as you can expect, christian will be faced with some major choices soon. only development will see where that takes him. i’m excited.

ROMEO: william “wolfie” preston written by samantha. 

oh, wowie wow. a very hard choice, but you hit it so far out of the park it’s in another galaxy. reading wolfie’s story was like reading a beautiful tragedy, starting with his parents first words when he was born and on to every expectation they placed on him afterward. i feel like romeo was one of those skeletons that had the most laid out for it due to octavia, but you took every little detail, embellished, AND ran with it, which i loved. my favorite part of your app was actually where you wrote about wolfie seeing octavia’s ghost and the first things he said to her – you described their relationship already, but that dialogue back and forth really hit home for me and made me completely understand the weight of their relationship. and why wolfie is just so devastated by what happened that it’s completely changed him as a person. loss can really do that to you, huh? i also really appreciated the way you also incorporated oberon into the story, something i didn’t really see! the way he craves validation from the head of school/the society the same way he craves it from his parents was really hard-hitting and i loved being able to get some insight into that dynamic as well. your app was infused with so many little details and i felt like you also really brought octavia to life, with her names for statues and all. i also died a little at the scene you described at his football game, my heart SUNK for wolfie, because it’s hard to watch him try so hard again. and again. and again. the letter itself was beautiful as well and i appreciated your scene setting, which not only put his words into perspective, but did more to make wolfie seem more real. sure, he’s a golden boy, but he’s also a person, and i’m excited to watch how the events of this plot show all the cracks in his foundation. he’s changed and he’s changing and i’m excited for more.

TITUS: august reyn written by moosh. 

i could not accept a titus that didn’t break my heart. and august broke my heart more times than i can count now, pretty much with every single fucking bullet point. i love the little contradictions; how he hates rich kids but he is one, doesn’t yell during fights but does during debates...i think the thing about august is he is cocky, charming, and at times aggressive, but he also has this sort of interesting moral code that motivates how he treats people and acts on the field; how he SCREAMS at the ref but is patient with his teammates? iconic. i feel like i got more upset over his grandmother’s passing than i did about octavia’s, which says a lot, but don’t think it passed me by how the two people who have really cared for august are no longer around. the moment in his life where he really fights back at his bully and learns the power of WEALTH was so impactful to me, and i think it characterizes many of his actions, prior and post. also the batman comparison was on point, of course. the way his relationship with his dad develops is heartbreaking, but even more heartbreaking is the fact that he loses a support system when things are at their worst. essentially, my heart snaps for august again and again, and reading about his development post-death was raw and hard, like i was reading something i shouldn’t be. i just want august to get a fucking win but i already know i’m going to put him through the ringer, sos sorry in advance. also huge props for roping him into the scandal surrounding octavia’s death in that way, i can’t wait to incorporate that into the plot overall. 

[gingerbreadbooks2020]

Bookblr post #22

It’s March 31st and I finished Faeries, Elves & Goblins by Rosalind Kerven! Well, I actually finished off today (April 1st) but that was just the notes, so shhh!

[Images above:

Top left: title page for The Good People’s Shawl, from the Isle of Man. The left page is an illustration of a young woman in a blue dress and white bonnet sitting at an old spinning wheel.

Top right: A double page illustration, a silhouette of three faeries stirring a cauldron. Behind them is a strawberry bush.

Middle left: title page for A Brewery Of Eggshells, from England. The left page is an illustration. Set in a living room, to the left is a young man stood over a fire. In the foreground of the image is a younger boy laying in a cot.

Middle middle: title page for Thomas the Rhymer, from Scotland. The left page is an illustration of a Faery Queen in a long flowing dress, the ends of which are being held by two faeries in flight. It’s nighttime, and they’re under a tree with small white blossoms.

Middle right: title page for The Magic Ointment, a tale from England. The left page is an illustration of three people stood in a garden with a stone path. In the back of the image is a man and a lady. In the midground is a man in slightly ragged clothes, with a greyish skin tone, and elvish looking ears.

Bottom left:title page for Flying with the Faeries. The left page is an illustration of a landscape. In the distance is a village, and in front of that, closer to the foreground is an orchard. In the foreground is a tree with a large root, open to explore. Inside is a young boy with two women, one of whom has their back to the reader.

Bottom right: title page for the notes section of the book. Under the title ‘Notes’ is a small passage (see later in the post for the passage). The left page is an illustration. The background is an orange sky with some white clouds. The focus of the image is a silhouette of three faeries hanging on to three thin branches which are vertical, hanging down the page. These images are all my own.]

First I read The Good People’s Shawl, from the Isle of Man. In this one I was a bit confused as to who to feel sorry for, I suppose. And that’s not a bad thing, the story’s well written. I think it’s just the purpose of the story, or part of how it’s written anyway. In the story, a woman, tired of spinning wool, hires a maid and leaves for the day, giving the girl an impossible amount of work to do. The girl, knowing she can’t do it all, goes out to the garden to ask help from the faeries. The phynodderee appears, and promises her that, if she says a phrase and leaves for the day it will all be done. When she returns, a group of faeries rush out, and she finds all the wool has been spun, and a shawl has been hung on the curtain rail. The woman returns, angry that the wool had been spun ‘wrong’, and tells the girl she knows that faeries did the work. The woman tries on the shawl but it’s cursed to become coarse and dark. The girl is fired, but when she wears the shawl is softens and gains an earthy colour, obviously blessed for her. I was unsure who to ‘trust’ for a moment as the girl, who has been given work to do, simply doesn’t want to do it. She doesn’t even try to get through it. However, the woman is at fault for leaving her an impossible task, and is then cruel to the girl at the end of the story, so obviously my heart went out to the poor girl.

After that I read A Brewery of Eggshells, from England. A widow has two young boys. The older grows to be stron and fit, and leaves for the army. The younger, however, refuses to even crawl, even at fourteen years of age. He doesn’t speak, it is thought he has some illness, and becomes uglier than he was as a babe. When the older comes back from serving in the war, he proclaims that he knows what the problem is. He empties out an egg, leaving the shell, and fills it with hops and ale, before handing it in a pot over the fire to ‘cook’. Immediately, the younger boy cries out, ‘Ha ha ha!; through twice seven years I’ve lived with you; and seven hundred years before; a soldier brewing beer in an eggshell; is the daftest thing I ever saw!’ The soldier kicked the changeling out of the house, and the widow’s younger son appeared before her, the real one. I’ve heard of changeling stories before, and generally understood the gist, but this was the first I’ve ever actually read.

Next was Thomas the Rhymer, from Scotland. Thomas is one day playing the harp when a beautiful women, the Faery Queen, appears before him, and promises to fulfill any wish he has if he plays another song. His wish is for a kiss. As soon as his lips touch hers, she takes him to Faeryland and makes him her servant. At the end of his duties, as a gift for his excellent work, she gifts him with an enchanted apple, which will make him only speak the truth and allow his heart to know the future. She says if he uses the gift well, she shall allow him back to Faeryland. Thomas forgets the enchantment when he wakes up at the fiel he was found in, eating the apple eagerly. As he can only speak the truth, people think he’s gone mad, and he never finds employment. He finds solace in speaking poems, eventually forseeing the death of the king. The people are amazed at this, calling him a prophet. After this, he’s not seen again, supposedly back in faeryland.

Following this was The Magic Ointment, from England. There are nasty rumours surrounding Betty and Tom, but Old Joan refuses to believe them and stays friendly with the couple. She visits them one day but peers through the keyhole to see Betty putting an ointment on Tom’s eyes. Old Joan is invited in as Tom heads out, but as Betty goes into the pantry to get something, Old Joan sneaks some of the ointment onto her right eye. She begins to see that small cottage for the beauty that it is, with hundreds of spriggans flying about. She finishes the visit acting normally as she can, but when she goes to the market she sees Tom thieving from some stalls. She confronts him, but he blows away the magic from her eye, as well as all vision within it. She cries out for someone to catch him, that he’s a thief, but the people around her call her crazy.

The final story in this book was Flying With The Faeries, from England. A boy, lost in the woods, is led by a bear to a small cottage. Two short and old ladies - faeries - welcome him in, giving him food and a bed to sleep in. At midnight, they wake, placing on white caps and shouting ‘Here’s off’, before flying off into the night. The boy quickly follows, and they find themselves in the wine cellar of a rich man. They drink his wine and become very drunk, but the boy falls asleep in the cellar. He’s confronted by the house staff he next morning, and, after going through trial, is sentenced to hang. At the execution, one of the old faery women approaches, asking him to wear a special white cap. The executioner thinks nothing of this, but as soon as the cap is on the boy’s head, they both cry ‘Here’s off’ and fly off. The faeries are annoyed at the boy for what he did, and he swears he’ll never do it again. Charmed by this, they forgive him and lead him home safely.

All of the stories in this book were so amazing. Of course, I know very little about faeries, elves and goblins, so this book was perfect for me, especially given that it’s about the British Isles!

I read through the notes section, which gives details about each story, where it’s from, how it varies in different places and also how many similar stories have happened to different people. Or perhaps how the stories begins or ends differently. In some places the stories leave out major plot points for minor details as it’s so well known in certain areas, such as the Tam Lin story in Scotland.

It was also nice to know that many stories do in fact come from the area that I live in (Herefordshire - please don’t stalk me!!) as there was a major writer on my area. Not Shakespeare level or anything, but this person noted down many tales from my area so that’s why they’re well-documented! It’s nice as well that I can learn about the faeries in my area and learn how to interact/avoid them if necessary, as I hope to research more into witchcraft and magick and practise the craft! This blog will remain a book blog though, so no worries dear followers. Unless you are a witch - please don’t unfollow!

Regardless, that’s the end of the book! It was so so nice to read! It was easy to just pick up and read a story or two if I have a few spare minutes, as opposed to having to read a chapter but have a running commentary of the plot so far going in my head. I find leaving a book too long means I forget the story so far, so it was nice that I could leave it for a week or so and still be able to enjoy reading it and fully relax with a couple stories - lighthearted or not.

I would definitely recommend this book, whether or not you’re a believer in faeries, whether or not you’re from the British Isles. It’s nice to get to know the country with these little stories which are about small villages in rural areas, as opposed to getting to know Britain through things like the Battle of 1066 or when parliament was formed or whatever.

If I were ever to have children, I reckon I would hold onto this for them. They’re little stories, many quite funny, but they’re not your normal princess story or faery story, so they’d make for a much more interesting bedtime.

- Gingerbread ♤

P.S I think I’ll be reading Macbeth next! But I might change my mind... so much to read!! Aargh!

P.P.S I’m going to keep saying this because it bears repeating: Stay safe!!! Wash your hands! Only go out if absolutely necessary and please limit the number of members from your household that do go out! The amount of cases in the UK is going up, as it is everywhere, so please please please stay inside and flatten the curve! The virus does not care who it infects, and has been proven to be deadly to even young and healthy people. Do not put yourself or anyone else at risk, please! Love to you all in these trying times x

[royaltealovingkookiness]

I love Azula. And I do think she's tragic but like... in a Shakespeare way. Where she also fucked up almost all of it herself 😂 Macbeth, Hamlet, Othello style. Also she's such an amazing villain I'm not sure why people want to throw away all her canon characterization to redeem her. She's real interesting on her own...

I love Azula too and yes, I agree, she’s a fantastic villain with depth and character. If we talk about Shakespeare, I’d go for a mix of Lady Macbeth and Richard III - power hungry, practical, charming, manipulative, possessing an efficient, matter-of-fact, unapologetic cruelty. She’s incredibly smart and a bending prodigy, and she’s in control - but she’s also overconfident, controlling, unwilling to let people close and risk vulnerability - and this will be her downfall. She also comes from an extremely toxic environment and has no real support structure or good role models. 

Does that excuse anything she’s done? No. 

So why redeem her?

Well, there is also one thing that sets her apart from these Shakespeare characters - she’s 15. She’s a kid. Yes, a lot of her problems are her own doing, she made many bad choices - but the possibility of redemption should be there. A world where a kid is irredeemable, is a very bleak place. 

This doesn’t mean she deserves or definitely should get redemption - it’s something she needs to want for herself and work for, the way Zuko did. Now disregarding comics canon, the show ended at a place where Azula has bottomed. Is it rock bottom yet? I’m not sure… But once she gets there, it is her choice to make if she wants to change. It doesn’t mean she needs to lose her personality - she could still be the brilliant, sarcastic bitch who runs mental circles around people. I can’t see her becoming warm and motherly like Katara - she’s different. But as long as she wants to put her talents and skills in the service of good - she could be a powerful ally. 

I don’t think anybody owes her redemption, certainly not Zuko. But I also cannot help thinking that the way this last moment was set up between them, is Zuko realizing maybe for the first time, that they are both the victims of the same horrible manipulation by their father, he would want to give her a second a chance. Not because he owes it to her, but because he’s been here, at this self-destructive rage and eventually he was given second chances by people who owed him nothing that made his own redemption possible. 

And I think in a way, even though there is no support structure around Azula, people have already stepped in some crucial moments to stop her from crossing lines after which redemption may not be possible anymore. Iroh stopped her from killing Zuko and Aang, Ty Lee stopped her from killing Mai. 

But her road to redemption wouldn’t be an easy one and I could also just as easily see her to come close, but then fail in the end - or to decide that it’s not something she wants. In any case, she deserved a much more compelling story than what The Search and Smoke and Shadow gave her, and I would have loved to see what Book 4 would have had in store for her. 

[arcticdementor]

“Come, you spirits / That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here.” This, one of Lady Macbeth’s most famous lines, is cited by Elizabeth Winkler in her recent Atlantic essay, “Was Shakespeare a Woman?,” as a thrilling instance of a woman’s resistance to femininity. Winkler then goes on to compare Lady Macbeth’s anger to women’s #MeToo “fury.” “This woman,” Winkler says of Lady Macbeth, woke her out of her “adolescent stupor” by “rebelling magnificently and malevolently against her submissive status.”

Of course, what Lady Macbeth is actually about to do is help her husband murder an innocent man, the king, in cold blood while he sleeps under her own roof. Unless one aligns female empowerment with sociopathic behavior, this isn’t really a triumphant moment for women’s liberation. Nor would any reading of the text other than a willfully perverse one count her as one of Shakespeare’s admirable characters. When she celebrates Lady Macbeth as one of Shakespeare’s heroines simply because Lady M has the desire to do something horrific, there is indeed something adolescent about Winkler’s attitude.

…

But what I find more troubling is the assumption that forms the foundation of Winkler’s thesis: the belief that men don’t really like women, at least not enough to think and write about them with understanding and empathy; not enough to see the value in female friendships and feminine bonds of love and fidelity; and certainly not enough to find strong, tough, funny, clever women believable, admirable, and desirable. When I consider the men I know, male friends and relatives, colleagues, fathers of my children’s classmates, Winkler’s failure to entertain the notion that a man could have written the compelling female characters that populate Shakespeare’s plays is more than merely baffling, it is an insult to men, both past and present.

I have written elsewhere about how contemporary feminism needs the idea of an oppressive patriarchy in order to define women as victims of oppression, and as such it seeks to attach to men a primal stain of (toxic) masculinity so that third-wave feminism is righteously justified in all its complaints against them. Fighting “The Patriarchy” is feminism’s raison d’etre, and without this enemy the cause itself is in jeopardy (see Feminism’s Dependency Trap in Quillette). It seems as though Winkler’s take on Shakespeare is yet another iteration of feminism’s belief that men have a blind spot for women’s humanity. The irony of the current feminist orthodoxy, however, is that it is women who fail to see men’s position clearly. A further —and funnier—irony, if one has a palate for the absurd and the tragic, is that most men, for their part, are usually so chivalrous, so solicitous of women as people, that they sympathize with women’s crusade against them, and by and large assent to women’s complaints. They must really like us!

…

But what troubles me is that women commonly fail to appreciate the internal struggle men have with their sexual instincts, and instead condemn them for having these instincts at all. In other words, consciousness raising feminism rightly asserts that men shouldn’t treat women like objects for their use, but it does so while being unconscious of men’s humanity, and as a consequence, both minimizes and punishes the male sexual instinct that causes men to see women sexually in spite of men’s civilizing efforts not to.

What contemporary feminism fails to adequately grapple with is nature itself, and as a result, feminist attitudes towards men, and particularly towards male sexuality, are compassionless and punitive (not to mention humourless—and human sexuality is so often very funny!). With a blind spot for men’s experiences, consciousness raising feminist attitudes towards male sexual energy are unlikely to inspire mutual respect, and instead work to engender resentment, anxiety, and unhappiness.

…

An obvious oversight in Winkler’s grad school approach to understanding Shakespeare is that while she is correct to assert that Shakespeare wrote female characters with whom he clearly empathises, she might have at least once considered that he also does the same with men. In what follows, I want to look briefly at one of Shakespeare’s most reprehensible male characters, the magistrate Angelo from Measure for Measure. I want to think about him carefully, not merely to look at how he uses his power to mistreat women in Weinstein-esque fashion (although he does indeed do this), and not simply to condemn him for his misogynistic sexual anger (although his behavior is very wrong). But, rather, to try to understand his internal struggle with his own lack of self-sovereignty, the crisis that his desire elicits: the sudden, inescapable, and unwanted pressure that his sexual nature exerts over his better judgement which overturns his self-autonomy and will.

…

In contemporary expressions of male predatory sexuality told from the perspective of women, such as Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, now a popular television show, men are viewed as powerful, threatening, and in a real sense empty of humanity, a kind of monolith of authority. Shakespeare’s Angelo is very different in that when his sexual appetite is awakened, he realizes that he is in fact almost entirely powerless. He doesn’t want to want her, and is confused and overwhelmed by how his sense of identity and autonomy have been absolutely overturned by this woman, who intended to do nothing of the sort. It is in part his astonishment at his own sexual desires, and in part his disgust with these desires, that make him so fascinating.

“What’s this? What’s this?” he asks himself as soon as Isabella takes her leave after pleading with him to have mercy on her brother’s life, “Is it her fault or mine? / The tempter or the tempted who sins most, ha? / Not she, nor doth she tempt; but it is I.” In this moment Angelo encounters for the first time his own sexual nature that he would really and truly prefer to be without. Unacknowledged in himself previously, Angelo judges harshly others’ sexual desires (that is why he has arrested and condemned to death Isabella’s brother). In some ways, he is the #MeToo movement’s goal: to have an impartial bureaucratic system of rules rather than any actual humans arbitrate the morality that governs sexual behavior. His lack of humanity is what might make his authority fair, if it weren’t so brutal. And it is his encounter with his own messy humanity that causes him to realize that the self he has constructed, the chosen identity he wanted for himself, has collided with a nature about which he can do little to change. We are, all of us, in some ways, not at home in our bodies.

I am obviously not endorsing Angelo’s course of action. He is the slimy villain of this play, there is no doubt about that. And I am obviously not excusing any man’s sexual coercion of a woman. These are serious criminal and immoral acts. It isn’t at all Angelo’s submission to his desires that I find instructive here, but rather the internal self-abasement he feels at having them in the first place, a self-abasement that is transformed into self-disgust because he suddenly realizes how little control he has over his lust. “Blood, thou art blood,” he says. “I have begun, / And now I give my sensual race the rein.”

Again, and I feel like I need to keep repeating this here lest I be misunderstood and used to excuse sexual aggression, Angelo does not have control over his nature, but he does over his behaviour, and it is his refusal to find himself up for the task of contending with his nature that makes him a villain. What feminism doesn’t understand, and probably doesn’t want to understand because it might create compassion for male sexuality, is the internal struggle of men against their own appetites. Men must possess and exert a strong and powerful will, not over women to pressure them into unwanted sex, but over themselves so that they don’t. The male will, what Simone de Beauvoir called transcendence over immanence, might be a very real quality because from adolescence onwards men must be well practiced in it.

…

You might be asking, “Ok, men have powerful sexual desires that their masculine assertiveness must work to control. What now?” I am asking myself this same question, and of course there is no easy answer. The history of civilization is, in many respects, our struggle with the intractable problem of human sexuality: the conflict of our Nature and our Reason. Some cultures have taken the tack that it’s better to try and eliminate men’s oppressive sexual nature by hiding their oppressors, and so we can see the burka, for instance, as an attempt to minimize the constant gnawing pressure of male sexual instincts, with greater or lesser success. In the West, other codes have been adopted. Christianity’s influence, the ideas of self-sacrifice, service, and human dignity, have mixed with barbaric European warrior cultures, which resulted in the codes of chivalry. This approach to our sexuality has worked, not perfectly, but pretty well, actually, all things considered. Yet now the ground of Western civilization is shifting, not from influences outside us, but from within, and the assumptions of chivalrous attitudes are the very things being taken to task. What’s next? Women’s revenge? (I’ve read Hamlet—revenge seems like a bad idea.) An unsexing of the selves? (I’ve read Macbeth; this one seems like a bad idea, too.)

…

Just as Angelo fails to respect his own sexual nature until it overpowers him, the near-nun Isabella also fails to contend with her nature as a woman. She is disgusted with her feminine sexual nature, it seems, which is why she desires to enter into the strictest order of nuns in the first place. Isabella’s relationship to her own sexuality is complex, but at bottom what she lacks is the strength and willpower needed to confront and handle her sexual power over men. She doesn’t know what to do with her sex appeal. Like Angelo, what she has been unwilling to face is her own nature. Since she isn’t up for the task, she seeks to retreat absolutely from the challenge: become a nun of the strictest order. Without men to desire her, in herself she becomes sexless. In Isabella we are faced with the flip-side to Lady Macbeth’s “unsex me here,” which is, in that play, too, a rejection and denial of nature, not, as Winkler wants to believe, of woman’s submissive social status. By vilifying the male sexual desire for women, consciousness-raising feminism seeks to relieve women of the burden of confronting the part of their own sexual nature that comes into being as a response to male desire.

…

If contemporary feminist orthodoxy insists that masculine sexual energy is, in itself, “toxic” and must thus be written out of social discourse, women will not have to contend with their own powerful sexual nature as the inspiration and location for the masculine imagination. But women’s condemnation of men’s sexuality will not inspire women to understand themselves sexually, nor is it likely to help men understand women. No woman should lose her sense of agency and self-integrity, but is it really such a horror to accept that we’re not entirely autonomous creatures, that we’re, in fact, meant to understand ourselves not merely as individuals, but relationally? The failure to contend with our natures because it is easier to retreat into our own self-willed dream of autonomy seems less like moral progress, and more like a lonely lack of courage.

So what is the answer to the intractable battle of the sexes? Hopefully it will continue to be a somewhat awkward answer, one that we will have to fumble through together. But if we do not treat our natures with honesty and understanding, with affection, humour, and generosity, then I am unconvinced that we will become less resentful, more just, or in any way happy about our human bodies.

[diveronaevents]

The days and nights that follow the Trial come and go not unlike the trial itself-- strangely, and without a true sense of closure, any hint of justice lost to the currents beneath the Castelvecchio. The verdict on Alvise’s murder remains murky and Celeste remains hidden behind Capulet walls, her status largely unknown to the Montagues except for what slivers of truth her captors are willing to parcel out in their mercy. Violence continues, unfettered and everblooming, each day bringing rising casualties and minor destruction, each day there’s new smoke on the horizon, new ash littering the cobblestone streets. The Witches remain silent and unseen, absent from their usual posts at their properties, unfamiliar faces wordlessly taking their place.

The more superstitious of Veronans in the know must surely wonder what the price of a witch’s bruised ego is. Would they take their guests’ insolence in stride? Had the city lost its sentinels of centuries to their own pride and exasperation? Had a breaking point finally been reached? “Nonsense,” their more secular counterpoints scoff, “Not every silence is ominous.”

But the avid reader might have already learned that circumstances are not so simple, and something as tricky as fate is not so easily brushed off by mortals who fancy themselves gods. Luck and tragedy have a way of walking in tandem, one striking after the other, one wearing the other’s face while speaking in their own voice. If there was luck to be had, it would come bearing tragedy’s likeness.

There was only a light drizzle at first. Citizens walked with a quicker step, lifting their newspapers above their heads; most continued on in their business, as most would. But the drizzle quickened into a brisk pouring; doors closed shut, tables were taken in from outside; still, no one had any reason to be worried— and why would they? The weather has been sunny in Verona for months, a blessing upon the tenuous peace that had been so lasting. But every peace lasts only for so long.

It began with the whipping winds, the gales strong enough to shake windows and tear plants from their roots; debris flew, striking the shingles off rooftops, colliding with ancient monuments and shattering window panes. Then, the lightning. One great bolt, the thunder so deafening one would wonder if the gods themselves bore a grudge against Verona. All at once, darkness blankets the city. No power, no lights, all as evening arrives, the secondary player to the storm, indifferent to the destruction wrought.

But just as some may think a reprieve has finally come with the shadows, the flood begins. The Adige rises before anyone can beg for its mercy, filling the streets with rapidly moving water, first to the height of one’s ankles— then to their waists. The masses desperately make their way to higher ground, racing to cathedral rooftops, the very top of Lamberti Tower, anywhere to be shielded from the rain above and the rushing current below. It seems as if no one is safe in Verona, and certainly not either of the two most notorious families.

MERCUTIO and CELIA were in the middle of a skirmish on Capulet territory with MACBETH and PARIS when the storm struck. The four are forced to seek refuge in the The Dark Lady. The Capulets attempt to bar the Montagues out to strand them, but the Montagues manage to force their way in, enraged and hungry for blood. The power goes out— a dangerous game of cat and mouse ensues.

Elsewhere, VOLUMNIA encounters ANTONY in peril— the adviser was in the Gardens of the Twelfth Night Museum when a tree collapsed onto one of the standing statues, the fallen marble pinning him underneath. Not long after, BENVOLIO arrives, having heard the commotion from inside, and helps ANTONY regain the upper hand— only to earn the adviser’s ire against the Capulets manifested in a punch straight to his jaw.

CORDELIA and TITANIA, meanwhile, find themselves stranded on Montague territory in the midst of rising waters. Wading through, they find refuge in the first building they can find— the library of Montague headquarters. HAMLET and SEBASTIAN are waiting for them and take the opportunity to either separate the two or use one to get the other to talk about Alvise.

GONERIL, having accompanied ANTONY to the museum thinking CRESSIDA could have been hidden there, split up with the adviser to investigate the offices on the lower level. She runs into ROSALINE, who is prepping the museum for the storm, and the Capulet immediately goes on the offensive, to the soldier’s delight.

BIANCA, having been tasked with integrating herself in Montague contacts, finds herself in To Tame A Soup the hour the storm strikes. As the patrons realize the severity of the storm and begin to panic, she attempts to leave before the situation worsens. ROMEO spots BIANCA and gives chase— she realizes she can play dumb or own up and risk the consequences or explain herself by giving the appearance of a genuine interest in the soup kitchen and possibly gaining the Montague’s mercy as the storm worsens around them.

TYBALT, having left Measure by Measure not long before the storm hit, resorts to breaking into an abandoned building to reach safety, only to injure himself in the process, catching his skin on the broken glass. NICK BOTTOM, already having sought refuge inside, spots the Capulet and can’t help but taunt and provoke him into a fight, wanting to see if even the Tiger has limits. It’s broken up quickly when the water reaches inside and they’re forced to climb to the roof and find safety.

REGAN, having been sent to investigate Measure by Measure, finds herself and the rest of the fight club patrons plunged into darkness. Chaos erupts among the fighters laden with adrenaline, and there’s no clear way out in the confusion and dark. BRUTUS emerges, having recognized the Capulet, and is torn between throwing REGAN into the middle of it all or helping her gain control and command over the situation.

LAVINIA and LADY MACBETH are out near Montague territory when the storm strikes, LADY MACBETH intent on toughening up LAVINIA. They run across a stranded Montague who, having nearly been caught by the floodwater, scaled up to the rooftop of the Two Gentlemen. A rookie, they are, having just joined the Montagues as a drug runner, they tearfully confess. It’s too late to turn back from the filth of this life, Lavinia— this is war. However, a sudden appearance by CLEOPATRA puts a halt to their plans, and she steps in front of the Montague rookie, intent on making it clear that the Capulets’ antics stop here. Another target upon which to set our crosshairs, LADY MACBETH reminds LAVINIA.

At the Lamberti Tower, OPHELIA and IMOGEN have met to discuss the aftermath of Alvise’s death for a possible story to go to the press. As chance would have it, HIPPOLYTA was in the right place at the right time, catching sight of them meeting at the foot of the tower. As the storm worsens, she follows them up, suspecting them of working against the Capulets— she ambushes them both, emerging with her gun drawn, and grabs IMOGEN. OPHELIA, in all her grief and anger, refuses to let the situation spiral out of control. A shot rings out.

CELIA, following her skirmish, is crossing a treacherous path back to Montague headquarters when she finds VIOLA helping pull an injured Capulet free from flood waters. The Capulet recovers, only to pull a blade out at the sight of CELIA, lethal and full of newfound adrenaline. CELIA only has a split second to gather her bearings and ready herself for a fight; VIOLA realizes the situation needs to be diffused before anything worse comes from it.

JULIET is alerted to a massive crash in the area of Capulet headquarters where CRESSIDA is being held hostage. The wall had been partially damaged in the storm, enough for Montague to slip through, leaving the space she had once occupied empty. The heiress frantically runs out of the headquarters and runs into PORTIA who, sensing something is amiss, corners JULIET and demands answers.

HORATIO finds himself caught in a rapid current and barely has enough energy to stay afloat and breathe. He tries desperately to cling to whatever he can find, but to no avail. As the water takes him towards Capulet territory, MIRANDA, having found some higher ground, spots him and hurriedly goes to save him. Grabbing him, she is suddenly pitted against nature, and by sheer force manages to pull him to safety, the both of them exhausted beyond belief. Relief comes in the form of HELENUS, who was in the middle of conducting mass when the storm struck.

CRESSIDA, having not escaped very far In the storm due to a sprained ankle, runs into EDMUND who admonishes her attempt at escape. However, they catch the attention of FORTINBRAS who recognizes his chance to win Damiano’s favor. The Capulet draws his gun at FORTINBRAS, but is shot at before he can, a bullet grazing his wrist and causing him to drop his gun. PUCK emerges, balancing the scales for his offense against BEATRICE, and allowing FORTINBRAS and CRESSIDA to escape.

OVERVIEW: Welcome to the third scene of act one, dear friends and roleplayers! A terrible, ominous, almost supernatural storm has gripped Verona, and our Montagues and Capulets and in-betweens are caught right in the middle of it. Many muses were performing their daily duties when the storm struck, and now find themselves in precarious situations— please feel free to play out any of the above scenarios out on the dash! And just because your muse is in one location doesn’t mean they can’t be anywhere else before or immediately after the storm, which takes place on September 29th. Please date threads anytime from September 29th to October 9th, with the storm starting to affect Verona at 4:45PM on September 29th. As always, feel free to write any of your previous threads as well.

We also hope you all enjoyed FORTINBRAS and HELENUS’ introductions— their bios will be released in the next few days, so keep an eye out for them! We purposefully tried to keep their involvement to a minimum or at least made it possible for muses who have interactions with them to write threads prior to or following their involvement.

Thank you all for your wonderful activity, and we hope you enjoy this plot drop!