In fair Verona, our tale begins with OLIVIO RIVERA, who is FORTY ONE years old. He is often called OBERON by the CAPULETS and works as their INITIATE. He uses HE/HIM pronouns.
Have you ever felt like you were PLUCKED from a world -- a wild world, a beautiful world -- and placed into another, where you knew not the language nor the customs but they demanded that you manage all the same? The world that Olivio believes he was birthed from was a wild one, where debauchery and comradery permeate the heavy summer air, and glory abounds in the form of grand adventures and tales where Death is a mere kiss away. Sometimes, when he lays his head to rest at night he can practically taste it; the overgrown greenery that saturates the air with the heady fumes of milkmaids and wild daffodils, rich, RIPE wine coating his tongue. Instead, he was born into a world that was far less glorious and romantic; upon the doorsteps of Rivera family he was placed, ushered into their villa in the arms of a hapless maid with a bleeding heart. Ever the ones to jump on an opportunity to preen under a philanthropic spotlight, they claimed him as one of their own -- though, throughout the years he has made it quite clear that he wishes they hadn’t. Vapid, bickering siblings -- frigid, bigoted parents. It was a far cry from warmth and COMRADERY that he longed for. But he wasn’t one to sit idle, wasn’t one to let the world go by untouched. If he could not belong to this world, then the world would then be razed, remade, and reshaped. It would soon belong to him.
His parents sent him off with little fanfare, his siblings not so much as blinking when he said his goodbyes. To the Escuela Naval Militar they sent him, the finest naval academy in all of Spain -- but little did they know that such schooling would make him far more of a force to be reckoned with. In primary and secondary school he had created his own little KINGDOM with his own little court, a round table of children who mirrored his ideals -- who longed for that comradery and the world that they had been robbed of. His reach began to extend so far out that others began to seek him out, the BOY-KING that could promise safety from the hands of their abusers and odd jobs that were better done at night. They were the feral, reckless few -- devils of the night that brought about fixings of white-powdery decadence and dreamy little tabs that melted on the tongue. His education at the military academy only made his mind a SHARPER weapon, tweaked and fixed his strategy until every decision he made was iron-clad, every word he gave never to be contended with. His parents sought to take away the power that he had -- had hoped to take away his spirit and break it, but they had underestimated how Fate favored him and the power that he had. Though he did not demand it, Olivio brought the people of the world to their knees. They were ready for him to raze, remake, and reshape the world that they once knew; they cried out for him to remake it in his name.
His discharge could never be anything less than HONORABLE, not with the weight of the name that he carried. The people loved him, but the world was still not the one that he longed for, the world that he came from, so his restlessness grew until he could bear it no longer. That is when he began to play his little game. The kingdom that he had built for himself in Spain was coveted, often by those closest to him. It did not take much to undo the tight bonds of brotherhood he had created -- a little word here, a well-tailored piece of GOSSIP there. Those who considered themselves his brothers-in-arms rebelled against him, thinking themselves greater together than whatever power he might manage to wield. And he let them rebel, let them think that this was the grand beginning of a revolution. But then he reminded them, making an example out of the leader of a COUP, how bloody and ruthless their self-made king could be. With their tails tucked between their legs, they bowed their heads and let him leave his kingdom gracefully, too cowed to think of haunting his steps. He wandered, lost and looking for his world -- stumbling into it by happenstance.
His former clientele had whispered of VERONA, half a hell and half a dream. He had not intended to find it until Fate itself dragged him there, coaxing him with its whispered tales of gore and glory. One night in the famed city and he was practically drunk on the danger and debauchery that occurred nightly on its cobblestone streets. With a bullet and a dead body he staked his claim on the city, calling to the Capulets so they might see their great and terrifying ideals personified in him and him alone. He turned the heads of the mobs of Verona, Montague and Capulet alike looking to him. The moment the CITY welcomed him, it was as though it were holding its breath. It was then that the smell washed over him -- the heavy summer air, saturated with wild daffodils and the broken stems of milkmaid. With him, they would do better, be better -- their glory and adventure would know no bounds so long as they recognized him for what he was: the legendary FAIRY KING.
THEODORA MOREAU: Sponsor. When he first met them, there was no hesitation -- only a clear, stark certainty -- that it was to them and their cause that he would bend his knee. It is clear to him that heir ingenuity knows no bounds, and he is able to see their heart, ready and weeping upon their sleeve. They dubbed him Oberon because they knew he was ready to take up their mantle, but even in all the heady glory of his newfound family and ties, he does not forget what they have forgone and what they have suffered. A loss is still a loss, no matter how time seeks to salve the raw and aching wound. Though Theodora is the one that brought him into the fold, it is he who stands guard over them and their half-stitched heart.
VIVIANNE SLOANE: Achilles Heel. He is a man that prides himself on his ability to guard every weakness, to carefully cultivate an infallible armor around his heart and his mind. There has never been any need to divulge it or place it into the care of another. Though there have been those who have managed to tug on its strings, none have ever been so lucky to claim it as their own. Save for Vivianne. They met a lifetime ago, and he is not so foolish to think that she could ever remember him -- but since the first glance, the first smile that she cared to toss his war, he has felt his heart eluding him, being prized from his chest by the melancholy smile that tugs on the corner of her mouth. His armor, for the most part, is impervious to weakness, but by God himself, he knows he has been damned with this singular Achilles Heel.
PAVEL LAM: Devil. There are very few that can rival Olivio in his ability to drink every man in a bar under the table, but Pavel, he has discovered, has a gift for it. They met on one of his first nights in the city, and it seemed that like called to like -- Pavel immediately honing in on Olivio’s more mischievous proclivities. Admittedly, their first night was something of a blur and if Olivio were capable of remembering it, he is sure that it would have been one to remember. High praise from a man who has lived life to its fullest many times over.The companionship that they found in one another was something he had not realized he sorely missed, especially since he had forsaken so many of them in Spain. And though their loyalties may not align, there is nothing to stop either of them from indulging in debauched fun. After all, no one can really say no to the Fairy King when he demands a night of unabated and unfettered revelry.
BATTISTA TAHAN: Mockery. In truth, Olivio pities the Montagues -- one of the foremost reasons being that they have a rather misshapen crew of semi-capable soldiers and captains. Only one of them he knows has had any military experience at all and, from what he has seen, it is nothing to be greatly admired or noted. Upon entering the city, he thought that he might make note of who could feasibly be reckoned with and one of the names that had made it onto his list was Battista Tahan, supposedly someone of repute. Olivio had made the mistake of getting his hopes up, thinking that he might have finally found a grand and dangerous rival, only to be disappointed by the mediocrity that he found. Perhaps he will meet his great rival, someday -- someone to hold a gun to his temple and force him onto a bended knee. In the meantime, though, he will make do with what Fate has given him: a toy, to be broken and tossed away until the next one came again.
Olivio is portrayed by OSCAR ISAAC and was written by ROSEY. He is currently OPEN.