What Was Your First Thought When You Saw Orson Was Dead?

chandlerrosen​:

“oh,” chandler uttered, taken aback by his request. it was so much…simpler than she had imagined. she burst into laughter as she heard his cackle, impressed with his commitment to his characterization, even if it was an unorthodox one. “good, very good,” she laughed, nodding her head as she slid into the seat across from him after deciding it was safe enough to do so. “ah, the old de niro method,” she chuckled, unsure how serious nate was about losing his mind - ideally, not very, but with nate, you never really knew.  

chandler took a sip of her coffee as she readied herself to answer nate’s question, “mhm, yeah, i’m really excited, actually. i’ve never played a woman on stage before, and i mean, it can’t be that different, but…” she trailed off, thinking of what josie said earlier. maybe chandler wasn’t cut out for the role of lady macbeth – macduff or king duncan would have been a far easier choice, and likely the role orson would have given her. “i guess i am kind of nervous,” she mumbled as she ran a hand through her hair, letting out a sigh, “but lady macbeth is a complex character, so it’ll at least be fun. hopefully no descent into madness, though.” 

.

nate smiles back at chandler, and for a moment, it’s easy to ignore the weird feeling he gets while talking to her. “i hate to break it to you, but playing the lady of the hour almost guarantees some sort of descent into madness will be happening. i hope you’re strapped in for a wild ride of rehearsals,” he laughs. nate realizes that this very brief conversation might be the longest they’ve had in a while; especially since everything went to shit last semester. would it be weird to ask her how she was doing? if she was having nightmares? if she was a little freaked out the events from the winter masque just like he was? a little heavy for small talk around the lunch table, maybe. but while he thinks of more small talk, he studies chandler for a second and can’t help but see orson. it was hard not to, as much as nate wanted to admit otherwise. 

“you’re totally gonna kill it, chandler. i hope you don’t let some of our idiotic classmates get to you. personally, i love that shit’s changed around here. feels lighter.” nate has a second thought on that comment, so he quickly adds before picking up his tea: “in like, the social dynamics of our class, i mean.”

ofhelens​:

Matching his smile with one of her own, Helen laughs gently. “Hell, for sure. I have a feeling that Abigail Williams would have fit snugly in one of Shakespeare’s plays.” Probably played by Zahra. If Orson had his way. If Heidi was casting - who knew? The uncertainty of Alderidge, which had always been such a constant, made her anxious. Nudging gently into him, she nodded in thanks. “I don’t deserve you.”  She wasn’t sure any of them deserved Nate. Had she followed that thought through to its completion, she might have felt guilt that they were the one forced to witness her witchcraft…but as it was, she dropped it; distracted by the mention of Jonah. “No?” Puzzled, she knotted her eyebrows. “Did he…did he do something?”

it was one thing to banter with helen about heidi or the play, but then just like that, nate decides to switch up the conversation on her - a part of him wondered if it was the right time. but when would this opportunity come up again? he raises an eyebrow for a moment at helen’s response  - did jonah do something? well, damn. it’s not like it’s any of his business, but in nate’s experience, that kind of question only came from someone who, even in the slightest way, had already assumed he was guilty. it was a nicer way of saying ‘what did you do?’ and - shit, now he’s definitely reading too much into it. nate shakes his head, “nah, he didn’t do anything. it’s just the week of auditions he had a really...rough morning, and i might’ve cried and tried stuffing his face with waffles, and i was just curious if you had heard from him. that’s all.” nate shrugs and then tries to offer helen another smile to diffuse any of her worries. “even though we live together, i feel like we’ve been like two ships passing in the night.”

if you could trade places with any of the fourth years, who would it be?

“ugh, this is so hard, but lemme just say that i thought a lot about who’d i want to take my place because i could trade places with any of these theatre nerds and have a fuckin’ ball. but who would really benefit from having mine? and that’s how i landed on my pride and joy, jason palmer. is this cheating because he’s my brother? i don’t care. i would want him to just let loose if we traded places; i’ve already done an alphabet’s worth of drugs and broken some laws; like, there isn’t much he could do that would surprise me. i just feel like he’s holding back on me all the time, and...honestly, i feel guilty about that. a lot. especially because i know i wouldn’t be here without him.”

a pause.

“ha. but yeah, if we got caught up in some freaky friday shit, i would totally facebook stalk our old classmates and tell some people off, tell hudson and helen i’m in love with them both to (hopefully) start some drama, audition for the lead role in our last production just to prove a point, call up mom and pops to announce i’m cutting them off and moving to France after graduation, and then snoop in mathias’ room to find evidence that he definitely killed orson so that i wouldn’t have to worry about the watch anymore.”

@pvlmer

cause of death: boredom 

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? 

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​

ofhelens​:

Class is easy. Helen can do class. She can sit there, colour in her entire copy of MacBeth in pink highlighter and pretend that the world makes sense. That she was supposed to end up with this role. That Jonah was meant to be slighted. That Josie was supposed to play a minor role. (I mean Josie, really?!). Snapped out of her headspace by Nate, she smiles and nods softly. “Sorry, a thousand miles away. Just…thinking about MacBeth. Congrats - by the way. If anyone was going to curse me, I’d want it to be you.” Turning to address his actual question, she slides out a piece of loose paper. “Here - feel free to take these away. Better you fall asleep in Nicole than Sebastian’s class.”

nate bows at helen, making a dramatic show of accepting her notes. “i don’t know what it is, but i’ve just been so tired lately. and thanks - honestly, i think this show is gonna help me reach my final form; i’ll retire to the woods after graduation and start a coven, maybe.” nate grins and motions to her, “but no, an official congratulations are in order to you! i’m sure you never really saw ‘Scottish gentleman’ in your future, but here you are about deliver the best Ross I’ve ever seen, methinks. what say you, m’lady?” he slides the paper into his bag before he turns to helen, moving to leave class alongside her.

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.