CAN'T YOU EVEN LOOK AT ME ?

  𝘾𝘼𝙉'𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙎𝙀𝙀 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙄'𝙑𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀 ?  

[rabbitholewritten]

an INDEPENDENT , SEMI - SELECTIVE portrayal of an original version of the mayor the viewer THE DARK . as written by Wren !

LET THE GAMES BEGIN .

RULES. | | MUSE. ** follows / likes from @ship-status !

[rabbitholewritten]

Checks calendar. Smiles threateningly.

[rabbitholewritten]

@stageplayhero

“ Oh, Mark. Mark, Mark, Mark … Scared of a little theatrics, hm ? ”

[rabbitholewritten]

Checks calendar. Smiles threateningly.

[rabbitholewritten]

Looks up from their script —

“ … Can dead people be tired ? I always thought the expression was ‘sleep when you’re dead’ but this has proven quite far from restful. ”

[rabbitholewritten]

@stageplayhero asked :

Even during the holiday season, Harper is a very busy person. They’re the mayor, after all! Still, they find the time to spend Christmas together — after the parties and paperwork, curled up by the fire, Mark makes a big fuss about having to get something important… and returning with a present.

“Santa Claus told me himself that you’re to stay home and relax this holiday. No mayoral duties for you.” He kisses their forehead, and hands them the gift. “Merry Christmas, Harper.” Inside is a pin in the shape of an ornament, and their very own, cozy robe. (@stageplayhero merry christmas! fluff attacka!!) ~~~

Curled up against Mark, Harper could surely have fallen asleep, if allowed just a short while longer of quiet. Suddenly, though, the warmth was torn from them— they nearly toppled over as Mark stood, and had to wrap the blanket around their shoulders to remedy the rush of cold as Mark moved away.

They lean forward, trying to watch wherever he’s going— then lean back a little as he kisses their forehead, eyes shutting gently. A small “mm?” of curiosity is made as he hands them… a gift ? “ Did he, now ? ” Harper gives him a curious look, then opens it carefully.

Harper gasps a little, the sound then turning into a cascade of laughter. “ Oh, Mark… for me ? ”

The pin is carefully taken, and immediately pinned onto their vest’s lapel. A perfect addition, they think ! And then… the robe. They can’t help the continued chuckles as they unfold it, blue silk falling onto their lap. “ You wanted us to match, hm ? I think it’s adorable. ”

The robe is carefully set back into the box… and then they stand, ducking to the side of the couch to search in their bag for something. From it, they remove a small box, and move to stand before Mark, offering it out. “ It’s not much… but I’ve had it saved, for a while. Merry Christmas, Mark. ” They press a kiss to his cheek as they place the wrapped box into his palm, a smile on their lips.

Within it, is a pair of cufflinks, and a matching set of collar pins. Silver, with small red accents set into the metal. One, ever so subtly, in the shape of a heart. The other, in the shape of a rose. Underneath the packaging, sits a heartfelt and handwritten note.

They’ll leave, but only to change into the robe. They’re quite pleasantly surprised to discover just how comfortable it is ! After that, a return to their comfortable spot, cuddled on the couch before the fire… Harper couldn’t imagine a more ideal way to spend the evening with him. Merry Christmas, my love, Mark.

[rabbitholewritten]

Rue isn’t one for festivities … but if their typical vibrant, glitching red and blue shifts closer to red and green, that’s for them to notice. The same for the cover of their script ( book ? ) going a deep red with gold lettering. Dickensian, is it not ?

[rabbitholewritten]

There is... a window? Where did that come from? How is that even here? It doesn't matter. It looks out on a nice garden scene that draws the eye to the sky.

Walking through the void, typically, means seeing nothing but the same empty darkness in every direction. Like walking through the darkest room possible, yet still being able to see oneself. In the distance, though… something is there. Something they didn’t put there.

Rue makes to move towards it, small steps becoming a few strides, before they’re closely faced with the window. A… window. In the void. How is that even— ?

The confusion, though… is won over by the awe of the sight. A gorgeous garden scene, with a beautiful sky above. How many colours were displayed in it ? Harper couldn’t even imagine trying to count. A soft sigh leaves on their breath…

( … the thought occurs that they’re grateful it’s not crabs. They’re not sure where that comparison came from, but it’s true nonetheless. )

Rue isn’t sure how long they spent, standing there. Does time even matter there, at all ? … The story won’t miss them, for a little while.

They have a suspicion of who could have left it… but they won’t confront it. It wasn’t something they honesty wanted to complain about. Even jokingly complaining felt wrong, for such a gift. Their arms lightly crossed as they stood, watching out the window… had that been a butterfly, flitting past ? A smile tugged at the corner of their lips. In a flicker of imagery, was their suit no longer white ? A vision of a darker suit, hair done up in a loose bun; a moment of quietude, to watch from the window, the garden framed by a sunset.

[rabbitholewritten]

-

“ Yes ! ” Harper's exclamation was mixed with a laugh, half amused and half annoyed. They looked down to William's chest as he gestured, then back to meet his eyes with narrowed gaze. To only add to their argument, their lip puckered out in a pout. “ That's not a fair comparison. Everyone is short, compared to you. ”

They crossed their arms. “ Being a 'nerd' isn't that bad. Nerd is better than smarty-pants. At least I'm not going around flaunting it and being a jerk about it — when have you ever seen me be haughty about my degree ? And I mean after graduation. That was a fair period of time to be proud of it. ”

[rosetintedgunman]

-

Huh. Short nerds were weird. What a weird hill to die on. Then again, maybe that's why it's the hill Harper is choosing to die on. The hill would make them a little taller.

"Just like how everyone, bar my nieces and nephews who are under the age of ten, is taller than you?" One eyebrow arched over the rim of the glasses in amusement. As for the justification of being a nerd, he opened his mouth to give the immediate answer, only to snap it closed when Harper excluded the obvious one.

"Fairly sure you used it in your election to brag that your degree meant you were magically smarter than your opponent."

[rabbitholewritten]

“ Hey ! ” Harper gawked. “ You have a big family, anyway ! Bigger selection pool ! ” they argued, waving a hand around in gesture. There had to be someone in William’s family they were taller than … who wasn’t a child. Right ? Maybe they’d have to do some investigation, the next time they visited the Barnums.

Their arms then tightly crossed, almost pouting in how frustrated they were. And then William was arguing, again !

“ I did not — ! Well .. not publicly, at least. Even though it technically wouldn’t have been slander, because it was true. ” Harper raised a hand again, finger pointing pointedly. They never really would have made such a statement … probably. They had been rather annoyed.

A wave of their finger, and then they poked William’s chest. “ You’re just arguing for the sake of argument, you jerk … And I’m not that short. I’m taller than Celine. ” … by an inch or so, but it counted.

[stageplayhero]

The show must go on. Mark is an actor. He understands that. Rue can sense the amusement. They know how to read him, even in this state of wrongness.

“ So you do know the story, ” Rue says, teasing him. The air of a taunting smile coats their words, even if their expression does not convey the visual sight of it.

A party. You planned a party. It was not joyous, not light. Only heartbreak and death came from your party. Its party.

They used to be joyous and light. I still remember those parties.

“ Perhaps. You’ll have to find out for yourself, won’t you ? ”

Mark smiles, smugly. He can feel their teasing, their taunting. If he lets them know it gets to him then they win. “Of course I know the story. So, I know what comes next, and I won’t be caught off guard by it.”

He’s already been caught off guard. What chance does he have?

Straight answers are clearly not what Rue is interested in giving him. He has to trust them again, let them guide him again, even if the travel leaves his stomach feeling sick.

A party, indeed. A phonograph releases cheery music into the air as people mill about, chatting and laughing. Decorations sparkle on the tree, the walls, the ceiling — any surface they could reach.

It’s a shame he didn’t throw a celebration of his own, this year.

“A cast party! I haven’t been to one of these in ages.” This shouldn’t be too emotional. Right? All Mark feels is—

… Happy.

He crosses his arms and wipes the smile from his face, but not before the party before him becomes achingly familiar. “I remember this year. We performed spectacularly, of course. And after this, we…” After this, they all got together for a smaller Christmas party, just their group of friends. His throat feels dry as he looks back at Rue. Oh.

[rabbitholewritten]

Rue raises a shoulder in a half - shrug. “ If you think I’d give you the same plot beats. ” You think I’ll be predictable ? I’m not as boring as you. Even if they are predictable … Rue still has a feeling it will work.

They both know how the story goes. Facing old memories. Facing them ? Or simply … enjoying them ? Realizing what’s been missing, for so long ?

A cast party. Rue knew he would recall it well — that year had been one of the biggest, with a production crew and cast made up of people more than willing to hold a celebration, with their show closing so close to the holiday. Do you have parties anymore, with your new production ? Is there any true joy or passion in any of it ?

… and then, the next memory is struck. You remember it, then ?

“ I take it you want to leave this ? ” Rue asks, without bothering to look over at Mark. Or, perhaps, they don’t need to. Running away, is it ?

[wisteriagrcve]

"𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈'𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡. 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐈𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐩."

[rabbitholewritten]

“ Thank goodness you didn’t pick Date. Heist was… adequate, I suppose. ”

[rabbitholewritten]

@stageplayhero asked : [ 10 ] — SENDER has time traveled back to their past, with the chance to change their choices in their relationship with RECEIVER for the better (@stageplayhero shh i know we have a hallmark au but also consider: w.km c.hristmas fix-it. merry chrysler :D!!) // ( prompt ) ~~~

When Mark wakes, there isn’t anything notably different about his surroundings, in the grogginess of morning. A nice bed, in a nice room… until that room’s odd familiarity sets in. Mark’s own room. In the Manor. His room… but not quite ?

… Isn’t the decor different than this ? Surely, he’d rearranged the curtains from that, at the very least. They haven’t looked like that in years ! A surprise redecoration by Benjamin while he’d been gone, perhaps, and Mark simply hadn’t yet noticed ?

A confused walk down the stairs later, he’s greeted by Benjamin with a polite good morning, and a glimpse of a sight of the dining room — with Harper standing near the table.

They pocket the phone they’d just been checking, shoving it into their sweater as they begin walking. Walking, in the direction of Mark. A simple glance over, and a bit of a smile. “ Morning, Mark ” drifts over as they pass into the next room, moving by Mark to go on their daily routine.

There isn’t much time for the shock of seeing them to wear off, before Harper backs up a few steps, looking at him from over their shoulder. Furrowed brows and a confused smile, head tilted a bit. “ … I didn’t expect you to be up this early. ”

[stageplayhero]

He feels groggy and strange as he stirs awake, aching like he's been travelling for days. What exactly had he been doing yesterday? He can't quite remember. He barely remembers going to bed.

And the more Mark walks through the halls, the stranger he feels. Both the regular decor and the holiday decorations are either old or out of place. Perhaps Benjamin had been on a nostalgic kick? But none of it — none of it — prepared him to see Harper.

Harper. Harper? His mouth hangs open slightly for a moment before he closes it, and his eyebrows draw down. He never thought he would see them here again, after the breakup, so... why now?

Why are they acting as if nothing has happened at all?

"What are you doing... ?" Here. What are you doing here? Surely, they aren't on good enough terms for this. For this calmness from them. Their confusion at him being up feels outweighed by his confusion over everything. Mark rubs at his eyes. "Yes, well, I feel like I'm still dreaming."

[rabbitholewritten]

The way Mark looks at them is … strange, to say the least. Is he truly so surprised to see them there ? They’d been there since the night before !

A slight frown tugs at Harper’s lips. Turning back to him, they step closer, studying his expression. “ Did you sleep alright ? ” A small chuckle. “ I don’t think you were out at a party, so I don’t think it’s that. ” Instinctively, they reach over to tuck a loose hair back. “ What, didn’t get your proper beauty sleep ? ”

They can only imagine what a fuss it could be ! Woe is me, what will this do to my skincare routine ? They can’t help a small chuckle at the thought.

They know his routine, know him so well. They fit right back in… or fit right in, as if they’d never left.

“ The coffee should wake you up, at least. If you want some of mine, you’re welcome to it— if you haven’t noticed, there have to be two pots of coffee made in the morning, so yours isn’t cold by the time you walk out. ” They gently nudge him in a teasing motion, then turn back to heading for the kitchen. It’s a little tense.. but they should be happy to see him, shouldn’t they ? “ Should be ready by now. You coming ? ”

[rabbitholewritten]

@stageplayhero asked : [ 10 ] — SENDER has time traveled back to their past, with the chance to change their choices in their relationship with RECEIVER for the better (@stageplayhero shh i know we have a hallmark au but also consider: w.km c.hristmas fix-it. merry chrysler :D!!) // ( prompt ) ~~~

When Mark wakes, there isn’t anything notably different about his surroundings, in the grogginess of morning. A nice bed, in a nice room… until that room’s odd familiarity sets in. Mark’s own room. In the Manor. His room… but not quite ?

… Isn’t the decor different than this ? Surely, he’d rearranged the curtains from that, at the very least. They haven’t looked like that in years ! A surprise redecoration by Benjamin while he’d been gone, perhaps, and Mark simply hadn’t yet noticed ?

A confused walk down the stairs later, he’s greeted by Benjamin with a polite good morning, and a glimpse of a sight of the dining room — with Harper standing near the table.

They pocket the phone they’d just been checking, shoving it into their sweater as they begin walking. Walking, in the direction of Mark. A simple glance over, and a bit of a smile. “ Morning, Mark ” drifts over as they pass into the next room, moving by Mark to go on their daily routine.

There isn’t much time for the shock of seeing them to wear off, before Harper backs up a few steps, looking at him from over their shoulder. Furrowed brows and a confused smile, head tilted a bit. “ … I didn’t expect you to be up this early. ”

[rabbitholewritten]

rue has the empty shells of previous crystal - holders shoved into one of the drawers of their desk. they’re kept in a small box, somewhat to help contain any lingering energy in them.

some are broken. some were broken by the crystal, others were broken through a desperate attempt to remove the crystal from them. most are old and worn.

a ring with an empty place where the adornment should be, a necklace without a charm hanging from it, and even a hairpin that’s been snapped in half. bits of metal, bent and scratched and dulled, tossed into the back of one of their desk’s drawers.

rue doesn’t like talking about them. they don’t like showing their hands, either.

[rabbitholewritten]

“ … Even if the end result was a total deadweight. ”

[rabbitholewritten]

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[rabbitholewritten]

It should be a normal day in the Void — ‘normal’ and ‘day’ as subjective terms. Rue hasn’t bothered to keep track of many dates, anyway. What does it matter, when time itself has become irrelevant ?

They’re stuck at their desk, as usual. Reading through the script, following along with every line. Focused on the scenes playing out in words before them.

If they happen to be doing so while wearing an oversized cardigan rather than a suit jacket, though … then who is there to stop them, behind the scenes ?

[oopsprompts]

“Am I a joke to you?”

“No. Jokes are funny.”