What Is A Jester With No Audience.. When A Clown Jokes In An Empty Forest Does The Little Honk Have Any

outside the refectory, early in the night, open starter. 

in theory, masque balls are pretty badass. while nate never needed a good excuse to put on a costume and party, he did appreciate the way aldy really went up for the ball every winter. from the lighting fixtures to the material of the tablecloths - someone had their priorities straight when it came to using that 60k/yr tuition. when the ball began, nate had floated between the tables - laughter lingering behind after every encounter. this was his element. it’s too bad the detectives were watching, or he might’ve found a way to spike the drinks a while ago. well, the night’s still young. he spots the dance floor. 

five consecutive songs later - because music is an experience that most take for granted - nate shoves an app or two (or three) in his mouth and makes through the back doors of the refectory. it had barely been two hours, but his anxiety was still rising and he was becoming agitated. this would need to be fixed before the performance tonight. the air is chilly and thin, perfect conditions for a visit from mary & juan. nate reaches into his shoe and pulls out a lil’ skinny joint and a lighter. but he hesitates to put it to his lips.

“within the infant rind of this small flower, poison hath residence and medicine power.” feeling pensive about friar lawrence’s words, nate huffs, not noticing that someone’s joined him.

cause of death: boredom 

hudscnwilliams​:

hudson wished things weren’t weird between the two, but he couldn’t help it. it was his fault after all, not nate’s. hudson knew he really had no right to be distant considering he and zahra had pretty much the same sort of set up nate and teddy had, but…well, he was jealous, okay? he was, even if he would never admit it to anyone else. most days he wouldn’t even admit it to himself. and then there was the fact that hudson and jason hated one another; that certainly kept the two from being close. it was hudson’s fault that he and nate weren’t friends anymore, and as much as he wanted to fix that…he wasn’t sure he could. 

laughing awkwardly, hudson set the rest of the books in his hands down. “thank you. and congrats to you, being a witch sounds awesome.” that would certainly be a fun role, and he had no doubt nate would crush it. that was the sort of role he was born for, honestly. “uh, sort of. julian and i went out to get drinks. that’s really it, though,” hudson said, leaning against the bookshelf. this was probably the longest conversation they’d had in months, and it was going…not terrible? that had to count for something, right?

.

.

holy shit, this was probably the longest conversation they’d had in months, and it wasn’t crashing and burning. nate didn’t know what to do with himself. a part of him wanted to skip over the small talk and get straight to the elephant in the room, but he also wasn’t entirely stupid and he knew that his recent hooking up with teddy definitely had something to do with it. did hudson think nate was taking advantage of his best friend, or something? either way, he didn’t feel like explaining himself. or didn’t seem a reason to explain anything, actually. but what if hudson felt weird because of jason? suddenly nate wondered if he should even be trying to salvage what bit of friendship they might’ve still had. he was definitely overthinking this, right? 

“oh, nice - where to? the anchor? teddy and i were just there...!” truthfully, the words came out before he even knew what he was saying. nate’s gaze falls down to the table as he peels back the hard cover of a book that’s thick and smells like it hasn’t been opened in at least a decade. “so, uh...i’m doing some creepy dramaturgical work on witches and rituals. what brings you in here? shit, don’t tell me we have a text study paper due.”

ofhelens​:

Matching Nate’s light tone with her own japes (or at least, passable attempt at a joke - humour was never something that came easily), Helen’s expression wrinkled into an easy smile. “All those heretical dances in the woods? Or is that too The Crucible for Shakespeare?” She thought about telling him how the notion of running away felt appealing to her sometimes too - how dancing barefoot under moonlight felt like solace. Was it fear or bravery that kept her anchored? “Me…neither. I hope Heidi knows what she’s doing - I’m not sure she does…maybe I should offer to swap with someone? Like Jonah?”

.

nate laughs and makes a mental note about asking heidi her particular thoughts concerning the witches. suddenly, the idea of dancing barefoot onstage along with saffi and grace is hilarious, and he definitely wants it to happen. “oh please, i’m sure willy would’ve loved the crucible. fear, lies, hysteria, and witchcraft are the exact words i’d use to describe the scottish play, y’know? a match made in...purgatory? hell?” nate shakes his head at her response, “helen, it’s literally going to be fine. try not to worry so much about it. i’ll keep you entertained from the wings when you’re onstage, or whatever, until you’re comfortable. it’s our last show. we’ve gotta give it our best shot.” nate smiles at her, but hearing jonah’s name makes him a little anxious, so he backs up for as second. 

“but uh, speaking of jonah....have you talked to him lately?”

.

oofscenestlr​:

one thing that’s held through the past few years of dealing with nat is that he somehow always manages to make it about him. she had first hand experience, the constant days and nights when orson would pair them together was like a thorn in her side. getting through scenes was tough, but she tried to stay professional about it. so what if she was a try-hard? she was doing more than half the people here anyway.

“i’m not even gonna try and respond to that fucked up theory. just some advice for you - maybe get your head out of your ass and realize the world isn’t in love with you. in fact, the world has a lot more things going on than falling to their knees to worship you.” she’s bitter, it’s true. and maybe this was a losing fight, but she had to hold her own. she was a perfectionist, that much is true, and if nate couldn’t see there was anything to gain from that, it was lost on him. but trying so hard to impress orson’s ghost? grace had no respect for orson anymore. “have you considered i work so hard to get where i am for myself? and not for the fake validation of some ghost busy haunting our school and the real murderer?”

giving somebody shit for actually caring about something, especially their craft, is the lowest hanging fruit and while nate knows that, it doesn’t stop him from standing behind his words. because yeah, while grace’s work ethic was something fierce, she had generally not been a nice person from the moment nate met her. and in the wake of orson’s death, she still didn’t seem to get it. and maybe she never would. “save me the fucking diatribe about how you’re so different from the rest of us and how much you’ve sacrificed to get here. ‘cause if you wanna compare notes, we could be here all night,” nate takes another long inhale of the joint and closes his eyes.

for a moment he thinks he can feel it — the warmth of this particular strain — but it doesn’t last long. clearly whatever he had going on right now was not going to be solved with just one smoke. 

it’s a small revelation that he chooses not to focus on, so nate turns back to grace instead. “look, did you come outside to just yell at me about petty shit or did you wanna smoke and try to chill the fuck out for once? i mean, aren’t you tired of all this fighting? i know i am. i’m fucking tired, grace.” nate pushes himself off of the railing he was leaning up against and extends the joint to her. things were changing around here — and while drugs weren’t going to fix any of their issues, nate didn’t have it in him to keep throwing insults back and forth. not tonight, at least.

𝖉𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊, 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘  — nate’s audition for macbeth.

alriiiiiiiight, so! a few ooc notes: nate loves macbeth, but i genuinely don’t think he ever really considered he was the protagonist/hero type, so that’s why he chooses to steer away from those roles. should he have given it an honest shot? i’m not sure ─  i don’t think he’ll know what to do with himself if he even got the title role, macduff, or even malcolm. frankly, i just don’t think he’d be inspired enough by them to put his all into it. anyway. enjoy! // triggers: mentions of drug use. word count: 1400+? google doc for better viewing!

so, here’s the thing: nate didn’t know what the fuck was happening anymore.

ever since heidi made the announcement of their spring play, he had been feeling one step behind everybody else. while most of his classmates jumped on rehearsal spaces, monologue runs, and every other kind of audition prep and/or ritual, nate couldn’t seem to share in their enthusiasm. and it scared him. there was something eerie about it all ─ like some kind of storm had formed over the department and no one seemed to notice, or worse, care. or maybe they were better at hiding their fears than he was. nate had tried his hardest to prepare for this audition properly, but he hadn’t been able to focus long enough to even give it an honest try.

serious talk about what happened that night had pretty much ceased amongst the group, but now it felt like no one had given the winter masque a second thought. did everybody know something he didn’t? either way, he had been so distracted that the auditions came sooner than he realized. nate considered just waltzing in and recycling one of his faves from hamlet, because as much as he wanted to go for the big roles, he felt like this wasn’t the play for him to take that risk. nate already had a lot of other shit to deal with on a daily basis, and he convinced himself he would be a liability if he even considered the thought of going for, say, the title role. and in all honesty, the amount of emotional and psychological lifting he would have to do in order to portray macbeth (lady ‘beth or macduff for that matter) accurately was something he just didn’t have the capacity for at the moment. 

so that’s where he was the day of auditions. the waiting was always the easiest part for him ─ being able to send quick texts or share jokes backstage was where nate shined. he didn’t think about the stage, or heidi, or the audition piece, because right now what mattered most was making sure other people felt comfortable and strong going into their auditions. lately nate had grown introspective as fuck, and he didn’t really understand why. 

or maybe he did, but he didn’t want to acknowledge the facts as they were: he and teddy were having their drug-induced fun, but it was unsustainable by the way things were going; jason was probably guilty for something, and nate was sad that he was still too afraid to just confront him; discovering orson’s body had done something to nate, and he hadn’t stopped worrying about his own mortality since. he didn’t want to end up like that ─ drugged up, miserable, and alone. nate wanted to be this upstanding, nice guy, but there was this heaviness that had been creeping up on him after all these years of destructive behavior. and of course everyone saw the silly, carefree nate who was so easily relatable and funny all these years that it would be near impossible to believe by almost anyone that he had a personality beyond popping vallies like candy and sharing internet memes in group chats at 3 am. fuck. 

he doesn’t hear his name at first, because he’s too busy thinking about a lot of other shit, but then he hears his name called once more, and nate comes back down from the stratosphere for two seconds to remember oh yeah, he has something really important to do right now. like audition. nate walks out on the stage just like every other audition for alderidge, except this time when looks up and sees heidi’s face, a fire ignites under his ass.

“yo. my name is nathaniel palmer and…,” he resists the urge to say, ‘and welcome back to my youtube channel’, “i’ll be auditioning with iago’s soliloquy from act two, scene three of othello.” maybe it’s the look on his face or how he takes a few steps backwards from the edge of stage, but heidi doesn’t verbally respond and nate’s thankful for it. his nerves are already bad enough, so he closes his eyes and counts his deep breaths. he tries to remember something of what he’s learned before. the exhale expels the fear, the inhale centers him in place. by the time he’s opened his eyes, iago takes form. 

“And what’s he, then, that says I play the villain?”

at base, iago is written off as one of willy’s cruelest characters; he’s manipulative, cold, and intense as hell. but nate understands a part of iago, though, where who he presents to the world is not always how he feels behind the closed doors. honest iago, just like honest nate, has dark tendencies. but while nate has chosen to run from his (via literal running, drugs, or sex), iago sees no other choice but to embrace it. and here, in a rare moment, nate allows himself to embrace it too. where does that darkness come from? nate’s eyelids are low and he moves slowly, but each step is calculated in a wide S shape towards downstage center. in this moment, there are only two players: nate as the predator, and heidi as his accomplice and his prey. "─His soul is so enfettered to her love / That she may make, unmake, do what she list, / Even as her appetite shall play the god / With his weak function.” his breath is a little shaky, so he takes a beat to collect himself. 

if orson could see him now, he’d probably laugh to spite nate’s attempt at pulling out something else besides the humorous, non-threatening fool. but that’s where orson was always wrong. humor was present in everything, especially in moments of high drama and danger ─ like conspiring to see the downfall of one’s appointed general, for example. and as long as humor is there, nate knows how to tap in. so he smiles then laughs, short and dry, before switching tactics and continuing with the piece. that’s the thing: navigating iago was second nature for nate, because he had become an expert at thinking on his feet and blending in wherever seemed necessary. it’s what he had to do to survive, and he wasn’t going to apologize for that. neither did iago. 

 “─When devils will the blackest sins put on, / They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, / As I do now.” 

iago was basically airing out nate’s dirty laundry right there on the stage, because holy shit, how else would devils know how to act, how to behave, how to charm like their heavenly counterparts? maybe they didn’t ─ but fallen angels did. and nate never once felt like he was an angel, even when he was young and his family tried convincing him otherwise. he had a lot to be grateful for of course, but there was an anger that lurked deep below the surface. it manifested in his bad behavior in school. in his drug abuse. in his relationships. and that was no one’s fault, he’s had to realize. even though he wants to blame someone so badly. anyone, really. maybe that would help him hurt less. 

the audition comes to a close, and the room is so quiet he can hear his heart beating through his chest. heidi breaks the silence at first, but nate feels a little lightheaded, so he non-verbally motions for her to hold her thought. putting on iago’s jealousy, his speech patterns, and his demeanor takes a little more effort to let go, so nate has to shake him out. literally. exhale to expel, inhale to center. 

damn, he misses his therapist. 

after another few seconds of obnoxious bouncing around, nate turns on his heel and beams in heidi’s direction. honest, silly nate was back in control. he hears her question for the second time and doesn’t miss a beat, “oh, sorry i didn’t mention it earlier. that was my audition for one of the weird sisters ─ the first witch, if you wanna get more specific.” she looks at him expectantly, but his grin refuses to falter. what else had she been expecting from him? nate thinks about his classmates, especially jason, and doubles down on his decision. it would be better this way. “and no, i’m not interested in other roles.” nate crosses his arms behind his torso and sways from side to side. there’s a lot more he could say, and in fact, a lot has already been left unsaid. but that was always the case, wasn’t it? 

nate shrugs, and just like that, his audition is over.

“what can i say? i guess i’ve got a thing for sexy, bearded hags.”

Any salad can be a Caesar salad if you stab it enough

do u are have stupid?

hell yeah brother!

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚌 & 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚗​: 

“tybalt, the reason that i have to love thee, doth much excuse the appertaining rage, to such a greeting: villain am i none; therefore farewell; i see thou know'st me not.”

teddy is having the time of his life playing the lead young lover, romeo. one of his favorites to play, ted has memorized the lines since he was sixteen. so he is trying to make the most of it, trying to enjoy it and forget the policemen in the audience or the heavy weight of orson’s absence. if he was still here, teddy knows he wouldn’t be playing romeo. so he is giving it his all. as a last fuck you to his mentor. 

and so he plays the part of the lover trying to make amends with the in-laws. 

“i do protest, i never injured thee, but love thee better than thou canst devise, till thou shalt know the reason of my love: and so, good capulet,—which name i tender, as dearly as my own,—be satisfied,” he finishes his line with the most charming smile he can muster. it’s not hard, trying to charm his way around julien. it’s almost playful, the way he looks at him, hoping tybalt would understand romeo’s attempts at peace.

but they all know it won’t be like that. and tragedy, much like in real life, is just about to ensue.

( @aldysfool​ )

nate had been buzzing for the past two weeks since he got the assignment to prepare for arguably the best character in the play. there hadn’t been a day when he rehearsed his lines, or gone over every single piece of stage combat sebastian taught them. mercutio was complex by design; flamboyant, yet provoking, cynical, yet insightful. nate happily stepped into this role.

“o calm dishonorable, vile submission,” nate moves to purposefully - but gently - push teddy behind him, rolling his eyes in the process. he faces his peer, and with a wink, “alla stoccata carries it away.” nate loosens the cape draped around his shoulder and calmly folds it over before handing it to romeo. this is the scene of r&j, and dammit, his goal was to die in style. nate reaches for the hilt of his weapon strapped to his side and he calls out for his dueling partner, “tybalt, you rat-catcher!” nate unsheathes his rapier and makes a swift turn to point at julian. nate tries not to imagine julian actually managing to kill him, so he flashes his best grin as he finishes the taunt: “will you walk?” giving nate a character with more motives than making the audience laugh? orson hobbs has left the chat. ...wait, he’s dead. fuck.

he breathes and he focuses back on good ol’ mercutio - who extends a cat metaphor while managing to look somewhat intimidating. “will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher by the ears?” nate tosses his weapon between his hands as he makes a wide circle around julian. nate goes to make eye contact, “make haste,” and taps the rapier twice against the ground, and it reminds him that it’s real metal which stresses him out - but nate clenches his jaw and gets into position anyway. “lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.”

/@juliansbennet​

chandlerrosen​:

chandler walked into the refectory, copy of macbeth in tow, in search of a cup of coffee. their first read-through was coming up soon and she had to make positive she was prepared. eyes would be on her, and many of her peers could smell fear and insecurity, and wouldn’t hesitate to capitalize on it. grabbing her coffee, she headed for a table near the window to read in peace, when she noticed someone was trying to get her attention. “oh, hello,” she said coolly, smiling a bit when he called her ‘lady ‘beth,’ reminding her of her latest success, “congratulations, by the way, i can’t wait to see you as a witch. i’m sure you’ll make it your own!” looking around the refectory as if expecting heidi to come and scold her for not spending every waking moment poring over the play, she turned her attention back to nate, “sure, nate,” she said hesitantly, sitting across from him with her cup of coffee. chandler was preparing for the worst; though nate was mostly harmless, he had a tendency to say whatever was on his mind, regardless of how it would be received. which is quite admirable, in a sense, but often got on chandler’s nerves, especially in moments when she was particularly vulnerable and emotional. still, he had a good sense of humor, and chandler appreciated about seventy percent of the things that came out of his mouth. “what is it?”

to be honest, nate hadn’t had much personal interaction with chandler. he knew her well enough to understand that she had obviously been through some shit these past couple of months, probably tenfold since she actually still, uh, cared - or cares - about orson. nate had thought about reaching out, but he didn’t know if that would’ve just been weird or if chandler wanted to even be around him. but there she was, sitting down at the table. and now nate didn’t know if he’d have the nerve to say what had originally been on his mind. he stalls for half a moment, hopefully not long enough to notice. “...i just wanted to get your quick opinion on something, actually. take a listen.” he lets out his best cackle, trying to embody the crones and hags of generations before. it’s loud, but just when other students start to turn and look their way, nate stops. he grins, “not bad for an amateur try, huh? it’s all part of my plan to slowly submerge myself in the role until i’ve lost my mind and i don’t know who am i anymore. ugh, can’t wait.”

“you feeling good about lady m, right?