Texts | Palmer Bros.

what was your first thought when you saw orson was dead?

“thoughts couldn’t evolve into words, just emotion. i was horrified, because i hadn’t ever seen that much blood before. (by the way, zero out of ten; would not recommend.) then there was fear, of what happened to him and if there was some fuckin’ murderer just strolling about campus; confusion, because i found something that put jason at the crime scene and that didn’t make any sense to me at all because he’s my brother and he wouldn’t do something like this or surely he’d at least he’d tell me; anger was up next, at myself and then towards orson. wanna know something? i didn’t call the police right away. seriously debated it, actually. and as fucked up as it sounds, i got a slice of joy out of all of that. the puppet strings had been severed.”

texts | palmer bros.

jason: for once i'm actually feeling kind of okay about my casting

jason: what about you? are you excited to play a witch?

nate: whew, i'm glad u feel that way!

nate: i was def ready to raise hell if you weren't cool w/ it. it's our last show, y'know? we should get what we DESERVE. but then again, i look at ppl like mathias & josie and i'm like .....yikes

nate: um HELL YEAH i am!! a crone who casts spells & cackles at people's misfortunes is in my top 5 other lives i'd like to live. you know this

harryzhangs​:

“yeah, it’s a shame i left my favorite monastic tunic back at home. really fucked up on that one,” harry chuckles, shrugging at the next remark noncommittally. it’s not as though she’s having a terrible night– things are going fairly well, all considered. the detectives are on her radar, certainly, but she hasn’t gotten any unwanted attention from them or noticed them focusing on any of her peers. for the most part, harry’s just been enjoying the evening with her friends. it all just feels a lot more stifling than usual, right now.

“fuck it, might as well,” she agrees, taking the joint from nate. “thanks.” harry brings it to her lips and inhales deeply, holding her breath for a moment before letting the smoke out in a long stream. a couple coughs make their way up as she passes the joint back, not enough of a regular smoker for her body to be totally accustomed. she eyes nate curiously, letting the two of them sit in the comfortable silence for a moment before voicing her question. “so what brings you away from the dancing and camaraderie? i’m guessing it’s not just the sudden urge to get high.”

harry was almost too good at that; she could play along with his dumb banter, and then have nate ready to spill everything with the flip of a switch. but that’s how it always seemed, for some reason. maybe she just has one of those faces — please, tell me all your dirty secrets!  — which nate is sure he’s told her once or twice before. so he considers her question for a moment, deciding on how much he should tell her, because she doesn’t get paid to be his goddamned therapist, but nate doesn’t know how much longer he can go on like this. 

and it’s as if it had been waiting in the wings for its cue, nate feels the first tingle  — a precursor to what he’s come to know and love about weed. but harry’s still there and expecting an answer, so nate sighs, “it’s because the food really sucks tonight, and it’s bumming me out. when’s aldy gonna stop serving us ore derps for every fuckin’ event? we’re not rabbits.” nate shakes his head and brings the joint back to his lips. on exhaling, he offers it up to harry once more. she deserves a better answer than that, so he shrugs, “and maybe those detectives inside are rubbing me the wrong way. seeing them here just reminds me of a lot of shit i don’t want to think about right now. or ever again. ....what about you?” 

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

where: courtyard between FAB & alderidge hall; when: tuesday afternoon, before the read-through; who: @joseqhine​.

as usual for someone who has an unhealthy dependence on drugs to get through each day, nate is outside smoking before the cast’s call time  —  just something to take the edge off. he places his copy of macbeth down to stub out the cigarette when he looks up and sees a familiar face. he bursts into laughter when he sees her. josie’s the kind of person that nate didn’t ever get along with; and looking at her, it still blows his mind that she and mads were ever close. he thinks she’ll probably walk by and ignore him, but nate just can’t let this opportunity pass him up. “what’s up, lady ‘duff? memorize that scene yet?"

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.

📱

What ringtone my muse has set for yours:

the palmer boys. (and yes, this is the ringtone.)

What contact photo my muse has set for yours:

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

i think nate probably wishes jason wasn’t so serious allllll the time, but he’s happy to hear from him either way.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts:

not gonna lie, nate might not respond as quickly because he’s trying to think of the best answer to come up with? 

How often our muses text:

before orson’s death, i think they spent a good amount of time w/ each other so there weren’t many texts exchanged. now, i think there’s some distance between them (so more texting is involved). and a good chunk of it is probably family related.

How often our muses call:

nate loves a video chat and he calls jason ALL the time when he can. i wanna say that he prefers that to texting because he can never get a good read on jason’s mood via texts. so he has to see his lil’ face.

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

before orson’s death, absolutely. things were fine. they were fine. there was no real reason to call him back, right? but these days, that’s definitely not the case. nate doesn’t know what jason might be calling him about. he answers before the first ring is done.

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

[ sent, 8:48 p.m. ] : going on a donut run, wanna join? gotta feed the ladies and then heading that way.

[ sent, 8:49 p.m. ] : also yes, i’m still feeding those cats behind the FAB. they’re important to me, ok? trust me on this.

[ sent, 8:56 p.m. ] : omg pick up ur phone - there’s too many of them back here!!!! i’m trapped & scared!!!!!!!! SOS

[ sent, 10:00 a.m. ] : hey, this is ur weekly reminder that i love u very much, kiddo. i know i don’t say it all the time, but i’m proud of u. seriously. also, call mom back.