Ofmadsle​:

harryzhangs​:

location: campus, morning after cast list reveal closed to @aldysfool​

“nate?” harry calls out, squinting toward the figure walking toward the FAB just ahead of her. she power-walks a bit to catch up to him, figuring if they both have to be up this early to go to class, they might as well go together. “by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. wait, shit, is it even the first witch who says that?”

nate is strolling along towards the FAB, trying to decide if he wants to ditch class this morning when he hears his name being called. he grins at harry, but his mind blanks on the line, “oh fuck, i don’t actually know! damn, you found me out. i’m a bad actor.” nate slows his pace, ”but hey, good gentlewoman slash donalbain slash siward, congrats to you! how do you feel?” 

scenestlr​:

grace’s lines were circling in her mind throughout most of the day. she knows her role well enough, has studied in her free time ever since learning who she’d play, and really, prince escalus wasn’t a difficult role. what she didn’t prepare for was that terrible feeling of returning to alderidge and being around everyone once again. she feels stares everywhere she goes, and she knows that after she goes on, it’ll only increase.

she can’t think about how she feels like the stares were becoming less and less about her and chandler. so she ignores the looks and heads outside. away from the police and everyone else in the refectory, the music fading into the background. she appreciates the night chill as it settles into her bones, her footsteps light upon the cobblestone. she lets out a small breath, and for a moment feels at peace. right until she hears his voice, reciting a soft line from the play. and of course, nate palmer had to be out here at the one spot away from the rest of the tiny bubble that was alderidge. she considers poking fun at his running of lines but lets the comment die in her throat. (does she say anything? does she keep walking past him like she didn’t see him? what do you say to someone who found a dead body?) 

she moves towards the backdoors again, careful in her steps, but stops when she realizes the detectives have patrolled to their side of the room now. great. she wasn’t guilty, she knew that, but she didn’t want any interaction with them and whatever they wanted to find out. she turns back around, striding quickly towards the outside and where nate was smoking. she couldn’t handle the detectives and stares, but she knows she can handle nate palmer. “wow,” she intones as she leans against the outer wall, now concealed from the doors. “i didn’t mean to, uh, interrupt your serious rehearsal time. apologies.”

there are just some people in the world who don’t want to see others happy, and at this point, nate is convinced that grace ishihara is one of those people. he knew it was practically impossible for them to not see each other again ─ with such a small class size and the loom of orson’s death hanging over the department like a nimbus cloud, there was a high probability that he would have to talk to grace again before they graduated. which, honestly, couldn’t come any sooner.

nate laughs, because he always does, but this one is short and dry. “no worries. i’m just taking a page out of your book, y’know? trying to be a serious actor who cares about his craft for once. but, i gotta admit,” nate turns to face her and flicks his lighter open, “it’s as boring as it sounds.” the end of the joint burns, and nate looks back at grace with his best poker face.

there are plenty of things he could say right now that would probably be unnecessarily harsh, so he keeps his mouth shut for once. he has some sense of self-control, after all. instead, he takes a quick puff and asks, “those detectives are here for you, right?”

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.

📱 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????

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.”

who the fuck swiped my capri-sun?, an intro.

hey all you cool cats & kittens, i hope you enjoy getting an abridged version of this lil’ shit. xoxo, gossip girl. (sorry, i re-watched the season finale the other night.)

STATS

name: nathaniel “nat(e)” palmer as the comic.

gender & pronouns: genderqueer & he/him.

age & date of birth: 22 & dec 2nd. (sagittarius, babyyyyy)

sexuality: pansexual

hometown: in ur heart

nate, a vine collection: yup, this one, uh huh, also this & one more! 

character parallels: phillip gallagher (shameless), donkey (shrek), jughead jones (exclusively archie comics), nathan young (misfits)

ABOUT

full app. |  pinterest.

alllllright, so nate was born with some hearing loss & just when the doctors thought he was going to live a life of rapid hearing loss, his adopted parents swooped in & turned all that shit around for him. in those early days especially, he was so obsessed with being all of what they could hope for and more, that he undoubtedly absorbed so much of their love & support in comparison to his brother.

but anywho, he had surgery for two cochlear implants before age 6, and it’s worked out for him, especially because he was (and still is) a quick study. kid’s got a knack for learning/adapting like nobody’s business. but hey, he’s a human - he’s bound to make mistakes and the expectations got so high that he got frustrated with himself and decided enough was ENOUGH. the golden shine he had was starting to wear off.

so, then’s there the Age of Ethan Crabgrass  - which yes, is someone from nate’s past that caused a lot of trouble for him - but honestly, the name is more of a representation for all the discrimination and bullshit nate had to fight against. and fight, he did. in a small literal way, but mostly in a social way. humor is his best and sharpest weapon, and he’s had lots of practice wielding it.

found theatre in one of those moments ya see on the movies where the character is walking by the auditorium and the magic of the stage just pulls them in (like glee omg). it’s also where he started drinking alcohol, smoking mary & juan, and exploring his gender/how he wants to present himself to the world. the love he felt there led him straight to alderidge.

so yes, he kinda blackmailed orson after he found out - through his connects in the art department - about the extent of orson’s drug habits & took this spicy info. straight to the source. i imagine their conversation left nate feeling like he was going to Soar in this dept. troil & cress gave him a little more to work with, but he was still hungry to do something different. but then orson dies, and nate has...lots of feelings.

speaking of which, he has a therapist he’s seen since first year, dr. june, but for the last month or two, he hasn’t spoken to her. he’s too busy doing more drugs, having lots of sex, and being a Shit. to sit down and unpack that entire night and what it means is something he is putting off until...? he’s not sure, tbh. orson’s death has him Shook.

aldy (as he fondly calls alderidge) has been some of the best years of nate’s life. which is probably why he’s trying his hardest to soak up every single moment while he still can. he knows he and the rest of his classmates might not be bffs after this is all said and done, but he wants to create some lasting memories (read: be more Annoying than usual this semester).

HEADCANONS

so i did this thing here that’s my interpretation of potential connections for nate to all of his peers. from the chameleon to the villian, nate’s thoughts about everyone is there! feel free to read & if you dig what he had to say, let me know! if you hate what he had to say, let me know! (if i don’t reach out first!)

fluent in ASL (let him teach you, it’s his favorite thing) & knows lots of bad words in different languages

gives “cute” nicknames to lots of things, because hey, words are hard and sometimes his mind runs faster than his mouth. there’s probably a dictionary of these words collected over the past few years. (e.g., supe effin awk, ors ho, cae sal, mary & juan)

wants the chance to be a Serious Actor, for once in his academic career. with orson dead, maybe that has a better chance to happen. and...if nate’s honest, he’s not as sad as he should be.

especially since he still has jason’s watch, nate’s spidey senses have been tinglin’. like, i imagine he’s gonna be nosy and want to figure out what the hell went down that night. not to snitch, but to protect whoever he can. if he can.

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.”

harryzhangs​:

as enjoyable as harry finds the winter masque every year, even she needs a moment away from the crowds every now and then. tonight, it’s reached beyond a simple need for some fresh air– the constant presence of the detectives, making her paranoid that they’re watching her every move, has caused a nervous stir within harry that makes it difficult for her to keep her usual composure. she should be worry-free and having a great time catching up with her friends, but instead she’s worried about suspicion and fractures among her peers and the can of red spray paint wrapped in a plastic shopping bag under her bed. 

she exits the refectory and slips off her heels, stretching her toes against the wet grass (that’s the funny thing about washington– everything is always rain-soaked. harry’s californian sensibilities still aren’t used to it). it’s cold, but in a bracing, refreshing way that harry doesn’t really mind at the moment. she takes a small wander, eyes fixed on the stars above her (the ones she can actually see through the clouds, at least), hardly noticing she’s coming up on nate until she’s just a few feet away from his back.

“two such opposèd kings encamp them still. in man as well as herbs– grace and rude will. fuck, i skipped a line, didn’t i?” harry grins, folding her arms against the chill. “well, i guess that spoils that i won’t be playing friar laurence tonight.”

when he hears harry interjecting with more friar lines, nate lets out a breath of relief. while he hadn’t necessarily gone outside to be alone all night (just a quick sec to catch his breath), nate had a split second of worry that whoever joined him was going to kill his vibe before it even got started. harry wasn’t one of those people. with the friar’s weed soliloquy replaying in his head, nate considers that he’s done his best to stay away from the alcohol tonight - this performance was too important, given the circumstances  - and he should be rewarded before he has to go change into costume. fuck it.

nate laughs and turns to face harry, “aww, that sucks. well, please know that i’d pay good money to watch you transform into the friar any day. monastic tunic and all.” when the lighter ignites, nate rolls the joint between his fingers until the flame bites into the paper. at the sight of the burn, nate slips his lighter into his back pocket and glances over harry. before he raises the joint to his lips, he motions to her bare feet, “your night must be going as well as mine if the heels have come off,” he takes a hit and then extends the joint to her. harry looks like she could probably use something to take the edge off. it could be a long night.

“you want it in? i don’t have cooties. pinky swear.” 

cause of death: boredom