Bxstvrd​:

what's your dream role?

“fuck me, this is a hard one. let’s keep this strictly shakespeare, ‘cause i could riff all day on contemporary theatre and how much tragicomedies speak to me on a spiritual level. so yeah, the dream role would have to go to everybody’s super problematic fave, iago. he’s an enigma of a character - with unpredictable emotions, motives, tactics, and some of the best soliloquys willy ever wrote. he’s fucked up in so many ways, and i wanna sink my teeth into him and take him on. i’ve been craving a puzzle.”

pvlmer​:

jason had been on edge recently. usually when he was on edge, it wouldn’t show. he had gotten pretty good at hiding his frustrations. but between the masque ball and the police interrogation, he thought the mask that he wore might be beginning to crack. and he never really felt comfortable showing anyone else what was beneath it. most people already thought so lowly of him or not at all, if they saw him without his mask, he couldn’t imagine what they would think. he got a little nervous when nate called him to talk, he was worried something had gone wrong. his brother’s tone was less jovial and humorous than usual, so he knew something had to be up. he walked towards the lake where he saw nate and gave him a nod as he watched him skip stones. “it’s all in the flick of the wrist,” jason said in a small voice. “so uh…what’s up? why did you want to meet? here of all places?”

.

nate only catches a piece of jason’s suggestion, but he picks up one more stone and throws it anyway. it skips a few times, and then submerges. nate turns to face jason, aware of how sketchy he’s being. hell, how sketchy he felt. thinking back, nate couldn’t remember too often that they fought or had any bad blow ups like other siblings he knew. and honestly, nate could never tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. he looks around and shrugs, “i don’t know, i guess i came out here to think for a while, but then i realized you and i needed to talk about all of this...shit. honestly, that statement from the police has been freaking me out. i don’t know what you told them, but i basically ran off at the mouth about orson and what i knew about the drugs. and about chandler. whatever i knew to keep them from looking in my direction. ...in your direction.” nate looks at jason, and really can’t help but feel a little hurt that his own brother didn’t feel comfortable enough to share his mistakes. his trauma. his guilt. but somebody needed to make the first step.

“listen, it’s about time we talked about the night orson died.” 

i aspire to be one of those people who are known for always smelling good and treating people kindly

 harryzhangs​:

“badass is one word for it,” harry grins. she just can’t get used to the idea that half the school, maybe more, considers all of them to be murderers. as hilarious as it would be to watch josie throw a tantrum and get kicked out of the show, as nate suggested, everyone’s usual antics feel rather tainted by that fact. harry doesn’t know how nate does it, putting on a joking front like this when he was the one to find orson laying there, bled-out and lifeless. he’s got to be a far better actor than her, just for that. “hopefully she’s just really into the irony of it, and not playing some kind of sick joke on us. that would put a serious damper the inevitable rehearsal storm-outs from… josie, you said? my money’s on mathias first.”

nate laughs as he considers the idea that heidi would be capable of putting the fourth years through a psychological thriller like macbeth only to get them busted for actual murder when it was all said and done. “nah, heidi doesn’t seem like the type to put that much effort into a long, convoluted plan like that. ...oh shit, unless she was orson’s other lover and this is her revenge....! dun dun dun!” nate laughs and shakes his head, trying his best to keep a light disposition about the possibility of what any of them could be facing. was there any other choice? after a moment, nate’s mind drifts back to the whole ‘co-conspirators’ angle, and he looks over at harry. he wonders about how much she knows, but more importantly, how much she’s willing to share. “but hey, you’re easily one of the smartest people in this bunch. ...i wanna know what you really think.” nate looks around to make sure no one else might be around, “it’s still wild to even say out loud, but there can’t be an actual murderer among us, right?”

ofmadsle​:

It seems like Nate and her had the same idea, though she didn’t expect to find anyone outside yet. She needed a moment, a breather to herself. So much happened before the break, with Orson’s verbal take down against her to his damned death, who knows what happened in between? She wasn’t sure how she could show her face, when she was sure every anxiety she felt was written all over it. Mads supposes she should be grateful that the ball was a masquerade after all. 

Still, she’s glad to find Nate, though she supposes she’s caught him in a private moment. There’s an urge to make a joke- is that the original Augustus Waters monologue?- but she holds her wit in for once. Instead, she makes her step a bit louder, hoping he’d hear her so she wasn’t catching him completely off guard. She racks her brain, wondering what comes next, but all she could remember was Romeo’s next line. Clearly, she wasn’t the Friar. “Good morrow, father.” She smiles softly, grateful for a friendly face. 

seeing mads always lifts nate’s spirits, so it’s easy for him to smile back at her and respond so easily, “benedicite.” to be honest, he probably could’ve done that whole scene by heart — there was something about ro & jules that just got to him. nate welcomes her company with open arms, because in situations like these, two was always better than one. it’s hard to be left alone with his thoughts for long periods of time. with mads there, nate manages to forget about the detectives, orson, and the long night ahead of them, if only temporarily.

— ✶

“come on mads, you know we’re basically two-thirds of the weird sisters in the living flesh. think about it: we strut onstage with our sexy beards, our couplet rhyming, and our — arguably — wicked ways, and then vanish before the real tragic shit goes down. it’s a no-brainer.” it’s a few days later after all the events from the masque ball and heidi’s announcement of their final play, and nate is, for lack of a better phrase, fucking thrilled. on this particular afternoon he has made plans to hang out with mads, and unfortunately for her, he hasn’t shut up yet.

“so, what do you think — do you love it? do you hate it? are you gonna kick my ass right now?”

fmk the rest of the fourth years

"am i making this complicated on purpose? nah. but i’ve got opinions.”

fuck: 3some w/ hudson + teddy (texting them both after this, actually); zahra, only because we would tear each other apart if we got married; jonah, because he is tense as fuck; chandler, because i like their vibe + the whole affair with orson was kinda hot, not gonna lie.

marry: hmm, well harry, but then i’d divorce her so she & mads can be endgame; mads, but then she’d divorce me so she & harry can be endgame; lexie, because she kinda scares me and i like that; helen, even though we’d probably be better as besties; julian, because duh, who wouldn’t marry julian?

kill: well grace, but only in self-defense (even though we all know it’s coming); mathias, because no one should be allowed to be that pretty and that self-centered. it’s unfair.

+

k(iss) on the forehead, because he’s my lil’ bean: jason.

where: the refectory, the 4th year table; when: post-announcement, before read-through; who: @chandlerrosen​.

there are some things nate is going to miss about aldy when they’re all gone from this place, and the refectory’s food was definitely one of them. nate sits at the usual table for their class, his food spread out in front of him like a five-course meal, with his personal copy of macbeth sitting in his lap. he’s doodling a picture of a flaming skull over the title character’s first meeting with the witches when he sees chandler across the way. he grins and waves, “yo, lady ‘beth! chandler! you have a second? i’ve got a tiny favor to ask.” he pushes some of his food out of the way, suddenly aware of how much space he’s taking up.

pvlmer​:

the entire debacle that happened during the masque had jason a little shaken. of course, he knew he wasn’t a murderer. he didn’t actually kill orson and he didn’t even know who did. but he did know that what the mysterious person said had some truth to it. jason could’ve saved orson and he didn’t. whether that was the right or wrong decision was something that jason was still trying to figure out. of course, it was morally wrong to deny someone help when they’re begging for their life. but is it morally wrong if that person is a dick? the jury (jason) was still out on that one. 

it was a question that kept jason up at night. and specifically, it was the question that was keeping him up tonight. after the events, he fled to his room, wanting to be as far away from the refectory as possible. it was like the person screaming murderer was his own conscience, which just freaked him out a little too much. he was in his own world once he got back into his room, despite his roommate being there. it was like he was alone because everything just faded and he was left with just his thoughts. his mind started to wander and worry. not just about the night where he left orson for dead, but the other members of the program. as much as he felt like he didn’t belong with them, he couldn’t help but feel some sort of anxiety over whether they were okay or not. the anxiety was the worst when it came to his brother. as much as people talked about how theater kids became family, nate was his family.

just as he was thinking about nate, he heard a knocking on his door. he yawned. it was some ungodly hour in the morning, but god knows that jason didn’t sleep at all so it wasn’t like he was getting woken up. he stumbled towards the door, his movements slow and jagged as he was starting to have a migraine from the lack of sleep. he opened up the door to see nate and without thinking, jason pulls his brother in for a hug. “hey, are you okay?” he asks when he lets go of the embrace.

the door opens, and nate drops his phone in the process of hugging jason, because his brother is okay and that is enough to extinguish any fear in nate’s mind. when they hug, nate suddenly feels very stupid, because of course nothing bad has happened (yet), but he also realizes it’s kinda fucked up how triggered he was by the events from the ball. but the hug helps. the hug is warm and familiar and it’s exactly what nate needs right now. as they separate, nate starts to feel a little dejected, but jason asks him a question and he pulls himself out of it so quickly, it’s hardly noticeable.

“am i okay? uh, i don’t know jason, let’s see: pretty sure i sprained my ankle during the fight scene earlier, was accused of murdering our old director, went back to my room and realized i’m almost of happy pills which also stressed me out because my dealer says they won’t be back until next week, then i tried calling and texting you fifty million times; speaking of which, where the fuck is my—”, nate looks down and picks his phone off the floor, shoving it in his pocket. there’s another crack in the screen’s spider web and the battery life is at 3%, but what’s life without a lil’ danger? nate takes a breath. he can feel himself getting worked up and it’s too late (or early, technically) to take any more drugs. he sticks to a strict schedule.

“the point is, sweet brother o’ mine, i’m not doin’ so hot, but we gotta talk. like, now.” nate’s stomach grumbles, and he huffs. “also, i could really use a grilled cheese.”

📱 better late than never! hehe

What ringtone my muse has set for yours:

um, this was obvious, right?

What contact photo my muse has set for yours:

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

nate thinks teddy is adorable, so however he texts is adorable by association.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts:

v quickly — nate’s phone is important for all drug & sex-related activities.

How often our muses text:

maybe not as often as you’d initially think  — i’m sure they lots of each other throughout the week! (again, drugs & sex)

How often our muses call:

again, maybe not as much as you’d think. i mean, they’re too busy doing other things these days, so. (other things = you guessed it, drugs & sex)

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

nope! nate answers those late-night calls reaaaaal quick.

Last text(s) sent from my muse to yours:

[ sent, 2:28 a.m. ] : u up? 

[ sent, 2:32 a.m. ] : so what’s the verdict on inviting hudson in for that 3some? yay/nay?

[ sent, 7:55 a.m. ] : sorry, i was definitely KIDDING. .....................unless????