#thus conscience doth make cowards of us all

[leninisms]

just a reminder that to be, or not to be, that is the question: whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. to die— to sleep, no more; and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to: ‘tis a consummation devoutly to be wish’d. to die— to sleep; to sleep, perchance to dream— ay, there’s the rub. for in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause— there’s the respect that makes calamity of so long life. for who would bear the whips and scorns of time, th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, the pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay, the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit of th'unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? thus conscience doth make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.

[louderfade]

alright i've got an idea for a stage play, assuming those are still allowed considering how determined they are to extinguish anything authentic enough to live and breathe in the face of the hyperreal future.

ok so it's hamlet: the next chapter and everyone who died is a ghost except hamlet who crossed over bc he was a real one and a badass. there is a bit of shock initially, but the characters quickly adjust to their ghost forms after polonius convinces them to behave sensibly by spouting one-liners and offering unsolicited advice he doesn't follow. ophelia is seriously sick of everyone's bullshit, and ends up going ghost-mad trying to figure out how to escape this stupid planet so she can rest in peace for the first time in her whole miserable existence. eventually good old yorick arrives in angel form to escort her to heaven where she belongs. in the absence of orders to follow, rosencrantz and guildenstern have no idea what to do or what's going on and spend the whole play trying to determine whether they are really dead or just dreaming. eventually they come to the wrong conclusion. in her first ever wise decision, gertrude resolves not to date for a while and proceeds to emotionally unravel and reveal the extent of her codependency issues in a series of escalating mini monologues that seem to be directed at herself. the men are confused by this seemingly unprovoked outpouring of emotion, so decide she must just be on her period bc art imitates life. laertes overhears the new, living nobles at the castle casually talking shit about his family and immediately starts swinging punches, forgetting that he is a ghost. this enrages him further, and polonius spends a whole scene trying to talk him out of a poorly-conceived murder plot that is likely to make things considerably worse for everyone. finally he is persuaded to take a xanax, and after waking up from his nap he acts as though none of it ever happened. horatio doesn't make an appearance, but it is explained that he left the country immediately following hamlet's funeral and is now living happily in a meadow or something with his new boyfriend. this story will be explored in a spin off one-act called 'flights of angels' in which literally nothing bad happens to anyone. horatio and his bf just love each other and have interesting discussions and pick flowers for an hour the end. only the best for literature's #1 homeboy.

i'm gonna call it "more mischance on plots and errors" from horatio's last line of the original play. everyone better be glad i don't have any money bc if i had the means this idea would prolly be realized and you'd all have to listen to me make even more unfunny hamlet jokes than i already do.

[mrbrojangles]

When you watch the various performances of Hamlet's famous 'To Be or Not to Be' speech (Act 3 Scene 1), you can always tell whether or not the actor has actually considered suicide themselves.

Some rattle through it at a fast past; some do it as they imagine a Proper Shakespearian Actor might.

But the ones who know, who have been there. Those who have weighed up the sheer torment of existence - the thousand natural pains that flesh is heir to - against the fear of the unknown: 'the undiscovered country from whose bourn, no traveller returns'?

And survived?

They get it.

[bethanysnow]

So me and @lonelystczennie have been working on a project for a while now that is both of our babies. Around the time the Korea Elle shoot happened for Hyunjin, we both showed interest in this concept. I wouldn't have been able to write this without @lonelystczennie she is one of the best writers I have seen and I love her dearly. Everyone should follow her BTS account @7ndipity

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

★Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem! Reader.★

---slow burn, obsession, College AU!, pinning, eventual stalker, Fluff/eventual smut????/there is a sprinkle of angst. ---

3.3k wrds. CHAPTER ONE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n sat in a chair in the theatre hall of SNU between classes. The room was large, and the red plush seats were a sight to behold at least in comparison to the underfunded American theatre she was accustomed to. They had just finished Romeo and Juliet for the fall and far on a facade balcony was where their Juliet stood and uttered the famous line “where for art thou Romeo-” Of course in Y/ns opinion she could have done it better. 

That was the problem with the South Korean society, or more so any society as far as she was concerned. It was about who looked the part, not that they did it well. 

Getting up on stage Y/n started to gather. A music stand, a chair, a folder of monologues she had put together. Holding her imaginary audience captive she readied herself…

“To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

    The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles

    And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,”

It was here in this soft moment that Y/n could be herself, be loud, be obnoxious, be in her own little corner of the world where no one would see. She meandered around the stage, using its size to her advantage. Her mind cast back to the years at theatre camps, high school productions, anything to get her hands on stage…where she could be anyone she wanted to be. At least in theory.

“-No more; and by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

    That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

    To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub: For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,”

While she wasn’t insane, she knew where she stood in the world. She knew what people thought when they looked at her. It was hard to miss, but somewhere in the mean girls brimstone there were glimmers. Glimmers of what might be, what could be..what should be. 

“Must give us pause—there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution

   Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment

  With this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.”

The crowd was silent, jaws agape at the performance that befell them. Until it was a trickled down noise, starting as a low hum, but grew to a roar of applause, A tony! One shouted, Encore!! Brava Brava!! Another yelled from their seats. In the space between classes Y/n got to hold onto her dreams.

Silly Y/n, dreaming big dreams…

            The door to the theatre opened and like a lightbulb flickering out. Y/n turned finding the head director of the art department walking in. 

“Ah! Y/n, you here to pick up some costumes?” 

            “Oh uh- yea! Just making sure folks didn’t just leave them behind after last show…” Quickly taking the music stand to the side of the stage, it was in reality where Y/n had to stand her ground. So, she batted the stars away and swallowed the butterflies, getting off the stage to grab her bag. Maybe this year’s Musical would be more fun…

~~

Hyunjin slowly followed Jisung across campus towards the art building, watching the dry, faded leaves skitter across the pavement ahead of them, caught in the wind, his hands stuffed in his pockets in an attempt to fight off the growing autumn chill.

Why had he agreed to this?

When he joined the drama department, he hadn’t realized just how much time and effort it actually entailed from him. He didn’t know much about how any of it worked actually, he had signed up mainly just to appease his friends and to get them to stop worrying about him so fucking much… 

“I didn’t know this place was here.” He’d commented as they’d navigated their way through the crowded cafe, sitting down at one of the few available tables.

“How have you not noticed it, it’s like two blocks from our place?” Changbin asked. 

“I don't know, I just haven't.” He mumbled, taking a sip of his coffee. It was surprisingly good.

“You need to get out of the house more.” Changbin commented.

He didn’t argue with his roommate, though he didn’t necessarily agree with him. Nowadays he spent most of his time holed up in his room, painting, but he was okay with that. That seemed to be the only thing that made him happy anymore, the only thing that held any real spark for him.

It was quiet for the briefest moment before Jisung suddenly piped up.

“Hey, why don’t you sign up for the theatre department? Most of the guys are already involved in some way, so it’s not like you won’t know anybody." Jisung suggested, referring to the rest of their group of friends.

“I’m not an actor.” Hyunjin said flatly.

“You look like one though, that goes a long way.” Changbin stated, swiping a cookie from Jisungs plate. “The rest, you can learn.”

“And there’s more than just acting involved.” Jisung adds. “There’s writing and production, wardrobe and set dressing, music-”

“You could paint sets!” Changbin offered, earning a side-long glare from Jisung.

“We just finished the Shakespeare production too, so it’d be a good time to join before we start planning for the spring show,” Jisung added.

“Why do I feel like you rehearsed this?” Hyunjin asked. They glanced between each other guiltily.

He knew what they were doing, they just wanted to get him out of his room, out of his apartment, out of the headspace that he’d been living in these past few months. They’d tried a few similar tactics in the past, and while he appreciated the gesture, he really didn’t see much point to it. He didn’t see much point to anything anymore if he was being honest. Still, he knew they wouldn’t relent until he agreed to something.

“I’ll think about it.” He offered, satisfying them for the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, as he trailed behind his friend, he felt a weak flutter in his chest.  Anxiety? Probably, but there was also something else, something faint, more pleasant.  Excited? He hadn’t felt excited by much since-

No, no. We’re not thinking about that anymore.

He shook his head, quickly following Jisung through the door of the auditorium. Maybe they were right, maybe a change of scenery would be good…

The auditorium was abuzz at SNU. That winter was to be the planning and prep phase for the spring musical, and every theatre geek on campus was somewhere in that room trying to live out their slice of life anime dreams. 

Y/n was in the back of the theatre typing on her laptop, busy working herself away already for what she had planned this quarter. Her theatre friends, Chan, Seungmin, Felix, Han, Jeongin, Changbin, and Minho all tended to arrive late. Leaving her to babysit the freshmen if the art director wasn’t in. 

This year as part of his senior project Seungmin was going to direct and produce the Musical with the help of his friends. She was glad to be part of it; just didn’t think being late necessarily set a good example for everyone that was new. 

The doors to the side stage opened and sauntering in was her band of misfits. Or at least that's what the group chat was called. 

With a…new person in tow. His shoulders risen to his ears and yet his gate was sluggish. Shuffling and looking at the ground. Y/n found herself walking down the aisle to the white fold out table with stuff for the crew putting her bag down. 

“So glad you cared to join us- oh great leaders~” She bowed dramatically to Seungmin and Chan. She laughed and rolled her eyes at Seungmin flipping her off. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get on with this.” He said, trailing after her down the aisle.

The light peal of laughter drew Hyunjin’s attention, his eyes flicking up from the floor, quickly scanning the group until he found its owner. She was turned partially away from him, but he could still make out part of her features. Round apple cheeks, bright eyes that disappeared into half crescents as she smiled, her whole body moving as she spoke animatedly with Seungmin about something. He didn’t realize he had frozen, staring at her, until she looked up and met his gaze.

“Um, hi?” She offered, looking at him curiously.

“Oh, Y/n, this is our friend, Hyunjin. He just joined the group. Hyunjin, this is Y/n. She’s in charge of keeping us from accidentally setting the building on fire.” Han said, gesturing between the two of them before quickly snagging the chair closest to Minho’s, as per usual.

“Don’t pin that kind of responsibility on me!” She shot back before offering a warm smile to Hyunjin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you.” He said quietly, finding himself unable to look away from her.

“Alright, should we get started?”  She nodded slightly before turning back to the rest of the group.

After rousing games of zip, zap, zop, freeze and change, and traditional ice breakers for the lonely extrovert, Y/n found herself sitting in the audience scrolling her phone while the rest of the crew bickered over what to do in earnest. Her eyes drifted to the new boy.

…Hyunjin? 

His face was a lack luster pale like he hadn’t seen the sun in over two weeks. But his eyes were an abyss. No real emotion, seemed to be dragged here by their friends. Which- was how they got her to come in the first place; now it's their 3rd show season all together. His clothes hung on his body like a wire frame in a department store. Out of place, but far more expensive than the financial aid in her bank account could dream of. Catching his eyes, her own fell back to the screen in her hand. Maybe her cheeks were red from the smut she was reading earlier, or just being stared down by a dark prince type. 

Y/n had gotten used to living in and around very attractive people. It was the land of the Idol.

There were enough plastic surgeons to go toe to toe with the number of Walmart’s back home. Everyone had someone they wanted to be, to look like, to sound like, to replace. 

There just was no one like Hyunjin…He was who boys put up on their wall as inspiration, and girls put on their wall to admire. She dreaded to think what came to mind when she was caught looking. 

~~~~~

“Beautiful, ethereal, the human incarnation of a Renaissance Goddess.” Every word or phrase that came to mind didn’t seem to do justice to the woman sitting just a few seats away from Hyunjin. ‘Y/n.’ Her name danced around the inside of his head like a lyric from a forgotten song, foreign and yet somehow familiar. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying several times to redirect his attention towards his friends, who were clearly in the middle of some heated argument, Jisungs voice echoing loudly through the hall in frustration, but each time, he found himself drawn back to her.

He couldn’t understand it, every little thing she did seemed to hypnotize him. The way her fingers danced lightly across the screen of her phone, brow creased in concentration as she read, sending occasional curious glances in his direction, sending a small jolt of electricity through his system every time her eyes locked with his, even for the briefest moment.

His heart thundered in his chest; mouth dry as his mind raced to figure out what he should do. Should he try to strike up another conversation with her? What would he even say? Every time she glanced in his direction, his mind went completely blank. Maybe it would be better for him to keep his distance? He didn’t know how long he sat there like that, observing her from afar, before Chan suddenly spoke up. 

“Y/n, I need another adult!” 

She jumped slightly at the sudden use of her name, making the glasses she was wearing slip a little further down her nose.  Cute. He bit back a grin, watching as his friend approached her.

“Can you please explain to them why Dracula is a severely overdone production right now and how-”

“Actually I really like Dracula,” She interjected, stopping Chan in his tracks. “I think it’d be a great idea for the spring production. “What do you think, Hyunjin?” He froze as she suddenly glanced over at him. 

“I-” He stuttered, his stomach doing somersaults at the way his name sounded slipping from her lips. “I think it would be good.” He managed to agree, causing her face to light up in a triumphant grin as she turned back to Chan.

“See? Majority vote wins.”

“What do you mean you wanna do Dracula? It’s cringey-” Chan exclaimed. 

“Says the man who at my birthday went on a tirade about how aegyo is cute and it should be embraced…sir you are a master of cringe- embrace ego death it wouldn’t be that bad for you” Y/n laughed. Still, her eyes glanced at Hyunjin, hoping he didn’t mind that she brought him more into the conversation. Her hand reached up and pinched his hyungs cheek. “-plus, vampires are hot- if you don’t think you could pull off being a sexy vampire just say so” 

Chan's eyes widened and he gasped in faux horror. Y/n smiled triumphantly looking to Seungmin with a raised brow, silently asking for his thoughts. 

“Director!!” Han yelled clinging onto Seungmin's arm trying to force him into receiving his love and affection “Mom said it's okay! Let’s do sexy vampire show!” 

“I told you to stop calling me that!” Y/n yelled back pulling Han off. 

While they all ended up bickering about the ethics of sexy vampires, Changbin’s eyes found Hyunjins. Staring at Y/n as she manhandled Han to get off their mutual friend. Was…that a blush on his cheeks?

There was a light in his eyes that Changbin hadn’t seen in so long. 

It was a welcome change, maybe with some encouragement, Hyunjin could find his way back to himself again. Or- that was the hope at least. 

Hyunjin looked up from his middle-distance stare to see Han chasing Y/n around the stage and her dodging his antics.

 “!would-” “-yoU” “QUIT-” “IT?!” She shrieked bobbing and weaving from the younger’s attempts to grapple (he would say hug) her. A small smile teased at the corner of his lips as he watched her interact with his friend, admiring the grace and agility she moved with. I wonder if she dances-

“Alright that’s enough, Han!” Chan called, finally managing to capture the hyper younger man in a tight bear hug, allowing rehearsal to get underway at last. Chan eventually catches Han, and play rehearsal could truly start. 

Y/n sat in an auditorium seat in the front row, while the rest of the boys spoke to the incoming freshmen for that year. Explaining Dracula, what it entailed and if they were uncomfortable with it to go now, no hard feelings, but best for them to see just who they could work with. 

~~~~

It was a rather daunting undertaking, but Y/n planned to be in charge of costumes and wardrobe for the year's productions at SNU, and hopefully for the coming seasons as well.

 Not by choice of course, but rather had resigned herself to the fact that the cost of auditioning, the cost of being good, but not good enough, the cost of being ensemble as great as ensemble is, was too much. She had a skill set that was fit for behind the scenes work, might as well embrace it. The boys were getting names, contact information, and the like as Hyunjin decided to test the waters, coming over to sit near Y/n, keeping an empty seat between the two of them so as to avoid potentially making her feel crowded.

“So,” He cleared his throat awkwardly, catching her attention. “How do these things usually go?”

“Well,” She sat up a little straighter. “Once we figure out the main production team, we start working on things like set designing, auditions, wardrobes-” Hyunjin’s attention began to drift as she spoke, her hands capturing his focus with the way they moved and flitted about as she spoke, leaving him transfixed. “What department are you interested in joining?” Her question shook him out of his daze, his eyes snapping back up to meet hers.

“Uh, I don’t know yet.” He said. “What department are you working in?”

“Costumes.” She answered with a small, amused grin.

“I might try that then.” He said quickly. 

She laughed, or more chuckled. Almost one could think she just cleared her throat, but the smile on her face would prevent the assumption. It was enough though. Hyunjin had fireworks in his soul blowing off and he didn’t know how to stop it. Not that he would want too of course.

“You should audition though! Everyone should give it a shot; you won’t know what you don’t try.” Y/n said in an attempt at being encouraging to the newcomer. 

“Are you then? Going to Audition?” 

“Nah- not this year, It’s Seungmins project, I wanna support him best I can and that is with costumes.” She smiled and leaned back in her chair. 

Looking at Hyunjin Y/n couldn’t help but notice the bags under the boys eyes, the flat expression wore thin and the smile he dawned was tired. Her heart ached, but not in pity, it was in recognition. She knew what it was like for the lights to go out behind ones eyes…thats what happened when she moved to South Korea.

The main 7 that adopted her brought her back to life and now there was Hyunjin. In a similar position to where she was, and maybe with some musical theatre shenanigans he would find his way back to wherever he fell off. 

            “Y/N do you think you could get the phantom costumes from freshman year?!” Seungmin raised his voice above the chatter. Her head whipped to the sound of her name and rolled her eyes. “What do you think?!” She shouted back only to bow her head at Hyunjin briefly to go join his friends little circle that had been made. Leaving him, to watch her walk away. 

Hyunjin watched her join their other friends with a faint pull in his chest as she went. “Y/n”, everything about her seem to draw him in, though he couldn’t quite place the reason why. Was it the bright flash in her eyes as she spoke? The warmth that colored her cheeks as she laughed? Her very being seemed to exude a warm, calming quality that he hadn’t experienced in another person before. He shook his head, looking away from the others as he tried to collect himself.

Was he seriously this infatuated with her after only a half hour?

It wasn’t impossible, he knew he tended to be rather intense when it came to these types of things, he’d been told that more than once in the past, but something about her seemed to strike a different chord within him. 

thank you @lonelystczennie for being my writing partner.

Tag List: Open

@kaciidubs @itsseohannbin @ldysmfrst @frenchkisstheabyss @daydreams-after-dark

[gen-is-gone]

ok actually fuck OFF with the 'Hob is a grown ass adult 666 y/o history professor who insists Shakespeare was a talentless hack, NO. no, more like, 'Hob bears a personal grudge that he has (with extreme reluctance) set aside over the centuries and is willing to admit at this stage of his life that Billy Shakes maybe knew what he was on about BUT. MORE SPECIFICALLY the reason Dream ditched Hob in 1589 was because he wanted to commission two plays from Shakespeare, not fuck him, and the thing about Shakespeare is that he gives Dream words that Dream can't speak for himself. he gives the Dream Lord a *voice* that others might hear. and after a fortnight straight of dreaming various famous performances of Hamlet's 'to be' soliloquy, Hob finally clocks the fact that Dream is not okay.

"Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all" he says to the man who loves life so much he never wants to die.

[celticcatgirl2]

“…To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action….”

“Uh that’s nice Luna but all we’re doing for English homework today is verb conjugations…I need your help with that….”

[a-echo-of-gotham]

Hamlet Soliloquy under cut

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action.

[uselessthebroccoli]

to be or not to be, that is the question. whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. to die, to sleep. and by a sleep to say we end the heartaches and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to. tis a consummation, devoutly to be wished. to die, to sleep. to sleep, perchance to dream, ay theres the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffed off this mortal coil must give us pause, theres the respect that makes calamity of so long life. for who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressors wrong, the proud mans contumely, the pangs of disprized love, the laws delay, the insolence of office, and the spurns the patient merit of the unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? who would fardles bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that dread of something after death, that undiscovered country from whose borne no traveler returns, makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others we know not of? thus conscience doth make cowards of us all. and thus the native hie of resolution is sickled oer by the pale cast of thought and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.

good morning

[fishoutoflovebeach]

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action.

from Hamlet by William Shakespeare, Act III i, lines 59-61

[brechtian]

Here is the Ophelia playlist for anyone who wanted to listen to the final product :) I’d recommend listening in order I think it’s a lot of fun

[fearsomeandwretchedandwrong]

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all

[the-wolfspider]

[16/11/2100]

Bowe is in a tired state. The medicine given still affecting him due to the dose being too high for his altered dna. He’s slow to blink. He is delirious as Juniper is taken to be put to sleep.

He blinks and slowly he speaks in his delusion. Something he memorized for high school long ago, that stuck with him.

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action.

And then he conks out. Weird

[minefight160]

So in my drama class we’ve started our sword combat unit and we learned that we get to name our swords, so I created a list of sword names. I may have gotten carried away sooooo… heres the whole list as of now:

-Placeholder

-The entirety of the state of massachusetts

-The entirety of madagascar

-The entirety of a single new yorker

-Scorborbor

-Honors steel

-Jacob

-Harry potter played by former child actor Daniel Radcliffe

-A sword

-Aichmophobia

-AC and/or DC

-Douth Sakota

-A Mall Katana

-Harry potter played by adult actor Daniel Radcliffe

-Santa’s new coal

-Dull

-A full spear

-A cool looking stick

-Sponge maker

-Oversized knife

-Butchers rage

-The blade of mild inconveniences

-The blade of major conveniences

-The blade of being a fairweather friend

-The sword of some random guy whose soul is now trapped in it; his pleas unanswered

-The sword of random convenience stores

-Harry potter played by tween actor Jared Radcliffe in a bootleg

-Blade of uhhh ummm aw jeez…

-The blade of pinky cutting like we’re in the yakuza

-Paper cutter

-The wiggle waggler

-baD capITaliZer

-Scimitar of Ra… Ra Rasputin

-D313373r

-Sword of being like kinda cool honestly

-Pool noodle of destiny

-The sharpest tool in the shed

-Skrimblorm

-The Sword Made for the Oreo Revolution Evening Season (S.M.O.R.E.S)

-Piano man's Ivory

-The distrac- hey what’s that?

-Repurposed bow

-Boing oing oing oing

-The ouchie maker

-Supercalifragilisticexpialidicer

-Daniel Radcliffe played by former child wizard Harry potter

-Danny Kaye

-Schäbiges Ding

-The zoinks inducer

And finally

-Blade of To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep, No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub: For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause—there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of th'unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry And lose the name of action.

This list is subject to additions, everyone may take a sword.

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Speech: “To be, or not to be, that is the question”

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

(from Hamlet, spoken by Hamlet)

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action.

cool

[fingerfuck-the-function]

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action.

Huh?

I have no clue what this means, m sorry, English isn't my first language and this is toooo complicated for my single celled brain to understand

Idk what else to say?

[telltaletypist]

Speech: “To be, or not to be, that is the question”

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

(from Hamlet, spoken by Hamlet)

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action.

i'm always saying this