#shakespeare nerdery

[fraterrisus]

https://obviousstate.com/collections/most-absurd

... and there's a crowdfunding campaign to make more.

[thatwritererinoriordan]

[thehotandcoldwar]

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Something Wicked This Way Comes

This is my little contribution to the glory that is the Jarida ship. Direct sequel to Ill Met By Moonlight.

.....

All things considered, it was a good relationship. It ticked all the boxes.

Sure, they fought from time to time when Jack’s natural instinct to tease clashed with her hair-trigger temper, but the make-up sex was the best sex he’d ever had in his (short) life. The both worked long hours but they were comfortable enough in each other’s houses to sink into something of a domestic routine in the evenings, one of them cooking dinner while the other flipped channels and checked their messages.

All the same, Jack knew that Merida was finding it difficult to adjust to life in Pennsylvania. She didn’t complain (unless she was really annoyed) but she hated the food and the humidity. She was worried about getting sick and having to pay huge medical bills, and swallowed handfuls of supplement pills to avoid this. She couldn’t drive and the streets weren’t very pedestrian friendly. She liked the countryside (on the rare occasions when they got out of the city) but couldn’t understand why they had to drive for so long to get there.

He could tell most of the unhappiness was down to being homesick, especially after long phone conversations with her family (where her accent would become broader and more unintelligible until Jack was convinced she wasn’t speaking English anymore.) She would get used to it, over time, she told him.

So he could tell it was really bad when she showed up at his house and the first words out of her mouth were:

“Kill me.”

Jack sighed and called up the stairs to his sister.

“Emma! Put the kettle on, would you?”

Emma thundered down the stairs to comply, because the only time the kettle (Merida’s kettle, she’d dropped it off at their house the month before) was turned on was when Merida was in the house, and Emma adored Merida almost as much as Jack did. Jack ushered Merida into the den as though she were an invalid, pushed her gently onto the couch and took in her white, drawn expression.

“Here you go,” Emma said shyly, popping two mugs of tea on the coffee table.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Merida mumbled.

Okay, actual words. That’s not too bad.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened or do you need a minute?” Jack prodded.

Merida threw two spoons of sugar into her tea and tossed it back like a shot, and it seemed to brace her.

“It happened again. I didn’t want it to but it did,” she said darkly.

“What? More silverfish in the rare books? What?” After that incident she’d stayed in the shower for close to two hours.

“No, it’s worse,” she muttered. “Anna roped me in again.”

“Oh, another play? That sucks,” he agreed. “Why did you agree if you hated it so much last time?”

“She begged me again,” Merida told him, throwing up her arms. “She actually came all away across town to the shop and begged me. In public. She wouldn’t let go of my leg. And she promised to buy this damaged old Canterbury Tales we’ve been trying to offload for ages, so I said yes. That’s not the worst part, I figured I’d just get it over with. I know the plays inside out, bloody cakewalk.”

“So what’s the worst part?”

She took a deep breath.

“It’s Macbeth.”

“Okay,” Jack nodded. “Right. And?”

She glared at him. The effect was oddly sexy.

Not the right time to be thinking along those lines, Jacko.

“It’s Macbeth!” she re-iterated.

“Yeah, I got that. Is that a bad play or...?”

“Otherwise known as The Scottish Play.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“I’ll go make more tea,” he mumbled.

.....

It took five cups of tea to get the full story out of Merida, and Jack was surprised that she hadn’t tried to hurt anybody once he heard it all. He would have had a hard time showing restraint himself.

Since talking her into being in the play, the other cast members had more or less followed her around trying to engage her in conversation so they could pick up her accent. Several of them (including Hans, which really made Jack’s blood boil) had taken to recording her talking on their phones and playing it back to the room during rehearsal. They had good intentions, sure, but unsurprisingly Merida found it all a bit dehumanizing.

The last straw for her had been when Rapunzel, ignorant of how homesick Merida had been, recorded her talking on the phone to her mother and played it back to the other girls, remarking on her considerably stronger accent. Merida managed to conceal how upset she was until she got home, and she admitted that she had a little crying fit under the duvet.

“Don’t feel bad for that,” Jack muttered, holding her close and rubbing soothing circles around her back. “That’s really low.”

“She didn’t do it to hurt me,” Merida grumbled. “I’m just a bit sensitive right now. Too many feels.”

Of course, the feels were a result of just having spent her mother’s birthday thousands of miles from her family. She had just the right amount of feels, probably.

“It’s not too late to quit,” he told her.

“I don’t go back on my word,” she said. “It wouldn’t be so bad if it was a different play. I know it’s a masterpiece but I fucking hate Macbeth.”

“Why, ‘cos it’s Scottish?”

“No, because it’s stupid. Macbeth gets into trouble because his wife double-dog dared him to kill the king. It’s supposed to be a tragedy but it’s ridiculous.”

Aha, bingo!

“I have an idea,” Jack said, pulling away to look her in the eye. “Can I audition?”

“Yes,” she said uncertainly. “But why would you want to?”

“If it’s as ridiculous as you say it is, maybe we could skew it, perform it like a really dark comedy. Get a sneaky knife in.”

“That does sound like fun,” Merida admitted. “Have you ever acted before?”

“Not since high school, but come on, who’s going to do a better Scottish accent than me? I spend more time with you than anyone, I know what you sound like.”

She scowled, mouth scrunched, but there was a dart of humour in her eyes.

“It’s not that easy,” she told him.

“Please,” he scoffed. “Whiy-zit soo fahcking hoomeed oot heeyer? Whut’s thees utt-her shyte suppoosed to bae? Oh aye, that’s reech cooming fram yeoo.”

“Not bad,” she grudgingly admitted.

“Ooh coome ohn Jack, hoorse it intae me...”

She smacked his arm, blushing furiously.

“Your sister’s in the kitchen!”

“Yoor wee sistar’s in the ketchen, stoop that shyte right noo!”

“All right, you made your point,” she grumbled. “Auditions start proper in two days. You’ll have to learn off the whole play before then.”

“Good thing I have a Shakespeare scholar to help me out then, isn’t it?”

.....

Jack nailed the audition for the lead role, as he knew he would. Nobody was able to grasp the Scots accent more accurately than he had. Merida auditioned for and instantly got Lady Macbeth, so they could mess with the play from the inside together.

The three witches were played by Rapunzel, Anna and Elsa, who all had to don fake beards and hunchbacks. Elsa was somewhat put out by this but the other two relished their roles and adopted moustache-twiddling villain mannerisms that were out of touch with any witch in existence.

Hans took the role of Duncan, and Jack was very pleased about this because it let him stab the guy, and if he actually hurt Hans in the act it would look better to the audience. Banquo and MacDuff were taken by the boyfriends of Rapunzel and Anna respectively, and though Eugene was charming and charismatic as Banquo his accent slipped constantly into his natural Midwest drawl. Kristoff managed to keep his accent steady but he was lumpen and uncomfortable as Macduff right up until he was told of his family’s deaths, whereupon he threw himself around the stage in a pantomime of grief.

Naturally, Jack and Merida stole the show. They shamelessly flirted during their scenes together, and when they were apart Jack played the part like a mildly confused grunt who’d gotten an unexpected promotion.

“But screw your courage to the sticking place and we’ll not fail,” Merida cajoled. Just do it, you big girl’s blouse, it sounded like.

“Yet who would have thought the old man to have so much blood in him?” she queried with a casual shrug, looking over Han’s bloody corpse with Jack. Jack nodded solemnly, and a wave of giggles swept through the audience.

“Is this a dagger I see before me?” he wondered, and she tilted her head and squinted, then gave him a ‘not this shit again’ look. Now the audience were laughing openly.

“Life is a tale, told by an idiot,” he moaned, cradling her corpse. “Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” He promptly ruined the touching scene by dragging her offstage by her feet.

At the very end, when Macduff admitted that he had not been of woman borne and therefore was able to kill Macbeth, Jack turned to the audience and raised his arms in the ultimate gesture of ‘what the hell?’ The audience roared with laughter and clapped as he died.

.....

Although the director was initially annoyed, the play itself was a roaring success and played for four more nights to a full house. At Jack’s death scene some enterprising soul played the theme to Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Satisfied that he had earned himself a permanent place in Merida’s good books, he went back to enjoying his time with her and put his foray into acting at the back of his mind. Until one day, as they were lounging in bed together on their respective phones, Merida suddenly tossed hers across the room.

“No,” she muttered. “No, no, no, no, no. No.”

“What’s up, sugar puff?” he asked her.

“No, it’s not happening,” she said, diving under the covers.

Curious, he went to her phone and found the message that prompted the freakout. It was from Anna.

Hey, so, the director picked the next play already and he REALLY REALLY wants you and your boyfriend to be in it, he’s got big plans. It sounds way better than the last one....

She rambled for a while before she got around to naming the play.

“Hell no,” Jack growled when he saw it.

[thehotandcoldwar]

Happy Fun Time World

Apologies for the terrible title, inspiration is running a bit low at present.

Also apologies for the long intro, I moonlight as a princess character at children’s birthday parties so I channelled a bit of that into the fic. Methinks I needed to vent.

…..

 Although the park didn’t officially open until ten am, and in the manual it was stated that employees were free to check in at eight am to get ready, it was generally acknowledged that anyone who got there after seven was a wimp and wouldn’t last long. If you needed your precious sleep that badly, you’d have to find another, less image-focused career.

Merida usually rolled in on the dot of seven am, as grey-faced and irritable as everyone else who had gathered in the cold prefab that served as the dressing room. Most of the girls would be drinking coffee and munching donuts for an extra burst of sugar, some wearing facemasks or a thick coat of moisturizer. This particular Sunday morning, she grunted at Rapunzel by way of greeting. Rapunzel, devoid of her customary cheer this early in the morning, grunted back.

‘Super-sparkle-cation’ began when everyone was suitably awake. Painting one’s face from mere mortal to fantasy character was an exhausting process. Moisturizer was wiped off with cleanser, finished with toner and reapplied again as a thinner layer. A thick coat of primer was applied, then two layers of foundation. Concealer and highlighter to cover up bags and blemishes. Eye makeup was ultra-important, sultry cat’s eyes for the pirate girls and tavern wenches, a coat of white on the waterline for the princesses to make their eyes look enormous (and as always one unfortunate got the brush in the eye and ruined her makeup by crying, and needed to start the whole tedious process again), and painstakingly crafted silver spirals and glued on crystals for the fairies. All finished off with a heavy coat of shimmer powder and no less than four layers of lip stain. Only after all of this was finished could they start getting dressed.

The wenches and pirates had it easy, they just had to wrap their hair in rags, pull on their bustiers and aprons and then were free to drink coffee or smoke until it was time to man the battle stations. The princesses and fairies had to pin up hair in preparation for wigs and struggle into corsets and hoop skirts.

Merida and Rapunzel were the only two fairies who didn’t need to wear wigs, as one of their colleagues said, their ‘hair game was on point,’ whatever that meant. As it was, Merida only had to backcomb it twice to get it to full fairy bouffant mode, whereas Rapunzel spent a good forty-five minutes teasing hers into a thick golden cloud. Secured with about half a can of hairspray, threaded through with silk flowers and a few craft store gems, all that was left to do was to climb into the wispy forest dress and put on the wings.

Once they did a cursory cleavage check (too much would just bring trouble) and petticoats and hoop skirts were in place, everyone left the prefab en mass at 9:45 am, to take up their respective positions.

Merida’s spot was in the ‘Forest of Enchantment,’ right bang in the centre beside the lantern walkway. Some bright spark had planted the trees far too close together so that when the branches grew, they pretty much blocked out any natural sunlight. The paths were illuminated by hanging glass lanterns, and all things considered it was one of the prettier parts of the park. It was damp, though, and full of spiders and earwigs. Could be worse though; Rapunzel was stuck at the entrance, in what was supposed to be a fairy bower but was actually just a hole in the wall covered with damp slimy ivy.

As soon as she took up her regular position, sitting on a log by the stream, Merida pulled her phone out of the pocket she’d sewn into her petticoat and texted Rapunzel.

Anyone through the gate yet?

A moment later, she got the reply.

Not here yet, but I heard from Cindy there’s a school group and some birthday parties.

How many birthdays?

Dunno. Three, maybe. Haven’t seen any yet. What time’s the puppet show on at?

Half eleven.

That early? What about the parade? How are we supposed to get there on time?

Parade’s pushed back to 1pm.

Wow. It’d be nice if they told us this stuff. How did you find out?

That guy from Pirate Valley sent me the updated schedule. Apparently only the pirates have the hard copies right now, someone was supposed to send them all out last night and forgot. It’s going to be chaos.

Ha! He’s not even subtle, he luuuuuvs you!

It’s the summer dress, it’s pretty boobtastic. I’m trying to hide it under my hair.

He wants to pirate marry you and have your pirate babies.

It’d never work out. We’re from two different worlds.

I have to go, there’s a group on the way. Sounds like a big one. They’re singing One Direction songs.

Right, right. Good luck.

She tucked the phone away and prepared for the influx. She was largely there as a glorified prop, although the kids when they caught sight of her would come over to talk to her and her job was to then convince them to move through the walkway filling in their treasure maps. Technically they were forbidden to use phones on the job as it broke the illusion, but everyone did it.

Faintly, she heard the chorus of You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful being sung by multiple squeaky offkey voices on the edge of the forest. She hoiked up her bodice and prepared to engage them.

 ….

Not even noon, and she was already exhausted. Three separate parties of little girls had thundered through the forest in a tidal wave of squealing and glitter, and each and every girl had stopped to talk to her, no matter how much their chaperones tried to hurry them along. Forbidden to break character at the risk of losing the job, Merida was once again grateful for her Shakespeare fanaticism. Midsummer Night’s Dream quotes seemed to fit just about every statement made to her, from ‘I have a film of you on my TV’ to ‘Can you do real magic’ to ‘I need to do a wee-wee.’

Winded, she flopped out on the log, hoping to hide behind the log for a quick break before the next wave of kids came crashing through. But after about five minutes, she picked up the sound of gentle sobbing coming from the wrong side of the log, the forest edge.

Lost child, she thought. First one of the day.

Lost children were a common problem. They had protocols in place to handle them, and none of those protocols included breaking character. Fixing her wings in place, she went looking for the kid.

She found her sitting on the forest floor, rocking back and forth with her head in her hands. Even for a lost child, she seemed unusually distressed. Her ivory party frock was stained with mud and torn at her knees.

“How now spirit,” Merida trilled in her best whimsical voice. “Whither wander thee?”

The girl looked up, sniffled, and tried to wipe her eyes but only smeared mud across her face.

“I fell,” she mumbled.

“Thou took a tumble, but ‘tis no matter. Methinks your party has moved on without you,” Merida responded airily, while at the same time gesturing to the security camera hidden in the tree that they had a lost child.

“Sarah pushed me,” the girl moaned, with evident hurt in her voice. “I fell in the ditch. And I couldn’t get out. And now I don’t know where I am!”

With a wail, she threw herself at Merida, wrapping her arms around her like a vice. This would be tricky; the protocol said that park characters were to touch the children as little as possible. But with a sigh, she lifted the girl up and carried her to the path. There was no harm as long as the security camera could see them. She sat back on the log with the girl on her lap.

“Tis a grievous affair indeed, but not all who wander are lost. We shall tarry here for a while, mayhaps one of your fellows should happen upon us,” Merida told her, trying to keep the caprice in her tone while furiously signalling the camera again.

Lost child! For God’s sake, Tombo, get off your arse!

For ten full minutes, while the girl clutched a handful of Merida’s hair and sniffled, there was no sign of a single person. They were probably all at the puppet show by then. Who knew where security was?

And then, tripping down the path as fast as his long legs could carry him, was a young man, frantically tapping at his phone and looking around the trees wildly. When he caught sight of the two of them on the log, the relief transformed his face from a merely handsome one to stunning boyband material. Merida really hoped she wasn’t staring, but she probably was.

“Emma!” he exclaimed, leaping over the stream with easy grace. “Thank God, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

Of course, no matter how handsome he was, she couldn’t just hand over the child in her charge to this random stranger without confirming who he was.

“Does this young maid belong to you, then?” she asked him. “Speak troth, thou might be a knave for all I know.”

He looked a bit taken aback, froze in his tracks, until the girl finally removed her face from Merida’s chest and threw herself at him.

“Jack!” she yelled, beginning her sobbing all over again. A stream of hysterical chatter flowed out of her.

“…SarahwasangrycosyouwentoffsomewhereandshepushedmeandIfellintheditchandIcouldn’tgetout…*sniff*…andwhenIdidIcouldn’tfindthepathandIcouldn’tfindyouandItoremydress…”

She took a deep breath and pointed back to Merida, perched awkwardly on the log.

“…and then the fairy found me.”

Merida smiled sheepishly.

“Well, I guess we know who’s not invited to your party,” he muttered to the girl, before he strode towards Merida, with a perfect toothy grin.

“Thanks a lot for finding her, I was worried sick,” he told her, looking her up and down. Merida hoped her bodice was suitably hoiked up but given how he was averting his eyes from that particular region, she had to conclude that it wasn’t.

“Tis no fuss, milord,” she replied, smoothing back her hair. “These woods be fierce and treacherous for mortals.”

He laughed, and oh how she wanted to record that and use it as a ringtone.

“How about I buy you a drink to thank you? It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. What’s your name?”

Oh crap. The rules were very clear about flirting with guests; it brought the park’s good name into disrepute and above all, broke character. It couldn’t be done.

“Good sir, I cannot partake of thy…mortal juices,” she said, and cringed when she heard what she’d just said. “I am charged with the protection of these sacred bowers, and cannot abandon my post so readily.”

“Oh. I’m…sorry to hear that?” he said, puzzled. “Well, when are you finished? I could take you to dinner. Emma would love that, right Ems?”

Emma nodded furiously, grinning madly.

“I should be honoured to join your repast,” Merida admitted. “But alas, should I drop my personage in to partake with thee, mine master’s mind would conjure many hateful fantasies.”

“Are you using all this old-timey talk to blow me off?” Jack laughed. “And I still don’t know your name.”

Oh for God’s sake, man, read between the lines!

“These enchanted woods are full of eyes,” she leaned in to whisper to him, pointing at the camera. He looked about him, confused. She sighed, frustrated.

“The all-seeing eyes of the forest do bring word of my follies to the ear of mine Lord and Master,” Merida told him, stabbing her finger towards the camera. “And if I should meddle so in the affairs of mortals, he should sweep on me with great fury and steal my wings away.”

If I go out with you I’ll get fired. Do you get it now?

Apparently he did, because a glow of understanding lit up his face with a decidedly wicked grin.

“Ah, I see. Your Master must truly be terrible to have you cower so,” he said.

“Not so terrible,” she said, hoping that the camera’s audio was still out. “But he hath many laws that needs be followed.”

“Tis a dreadful thing,” Jack said with a dramatic flourish. “To forbid a fairy maid to fraternize to her liking! I should find this scoundrel and put him to the sword!”

Emma giggled, delighted.

Right, I know you’re trying to be funny, but I could actually lose my job.

“Methinks your sword would not find its mark, my Master is locked away from mortal sight in his ivory tower. But he hath strong eyes and ears, and I would not risk his wrath.”

“Fine, fine,” Jack laughed. “I’ll not provoke him further. Thank her properly, Emma.”

“Thank you, Miss Fairy,” Emma said, and hugged her fiercely.

And then they were gone. For the first time since she’d started the job, she was sad to see a guest leave.

…..

The park closed at six, and at six fifteen everyone gathered at the prefab to ‘de-sparkle.’ Three coats of toner and moisturizer stripped away most of the make-up, but everyone would still find clumps of mascara or traces of shimmer powder for hours afterwards. Merida pulled on her jeans and a grubby t-shirt, tied up her hair in a high ponytail and tiredly sauntered out the gate.

“Well met by moonlight!” a familiar voice called to her as she walked to the bus stop. “Does your Master have eyes out here too?”

She stared at him for a bit, confused.

“Sorry, but…did you wait here for me to finish work?” she sputtered.

“Not exactly. I thought that’d be a bit creepy,” he admitted. “I took Emma home and came back. She wouldn’t shut up about you all the way home. I’d be remiss if I didn’t reward you for putting a smile on her face.”

He approached her, hands in his pockets. If he noticed that she had only the barest trace of the park makeup left on her face, it didn’t seem to bother him.

“She’s been having a tough time lately,” Jack told her. “New school and all. The other girls weren’t playing nice. I’m really glad you were there when I wasn’t.”

“That’s part of my job,” Merida mumbled, looking at her shoes.

“I found you cuddling her. You know how many people she lets cuddle her?” He held up two fingers.

“I have three little brothers. I guess I just have a knack for it.”

“That may be,” he grinned. “And then you talked all Shakespeare-like at me. You earned yourself at least one drink. There’s a place around the corner. It kinda smells but they do great cocktails. How about it?”

He held out his arm to her, chivalry-style.

Three cocktails and two shots later, she finally told him her name.

…..

Unfortunately, she told him her work name. So when he texted her the next morning the text was to Amaryllis.