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MSND [slowplay]

The sets are up, the house lights are dimmed, and the play is ready to begin.

[Actual production will be SP'd here. There will be an audience post tomorrow night, so the audience can react to what's going on onstage then. Have fun, go nuts, guys. Chat room is: MSND, but I have school and won't be on until tonight or so. Outline. Please use the scripts you were emailed. Important: ~~DO NOT SKIP AHEAD IN THE PRODUCTION. THERE ARE EVENTS PLANNED~~ OKAY I LIED. Please just post Acts I-III for right now, as there is something planned to happen at the end of Act III. Please just check in on this post to check for a cue.]

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The staging that the human had memorized tickled His fancy and so he took her hand in his, caressing the palm with his thumb before placing it over his human heart (speeding rapidly as humans from this far off Kaprika Island were not suited for long term fairy inhabitation).

"Do you amend it then; it lies in you," he asks sweetly, a false dearness in his voice.

Grabbing her waist now with his other hand he pulls her back into his embrace, her back against his chest, his mouth at her ear. "Why should Titania cross her Oberon?" he asks.

"I do but beg a little changeling boy, to be my henchman," he continues, thinking on the truth of this moment, how important it was to him to add human changelings to his ranks for their beauty and intelligence. How quickly they turned into valuable captains of his armies, leaders and advisors. A treasure to His Order -- and She seemed to attain more of these small humans than He. He seethes in the age old fury.

For just a moment, the memory of passion has her melting back into his arms; the girl's memories, as well as her own. For only a moment, she remembers what it was like, the first time they met, the shine of stars on a summer night.

Then he continues to speak, and her heart turns stony again. Always his rank before hers; always his desires, before her own. Never a sacrifice for her sake, no.

She arched her back against him, and pitched her voice to carry, hard and unyielding, even as her body tried to betray her again.

"Set your heart at rest: the fairy land buys not the child of me." She smiled up at him winningly, then stepped out of his embrace. But let one hand linger in his, a lady to her knight. Which he had never been, truly.

" His mother was a votaress of my order: And, in the spiced Indian air, by night,
Full often hath she gossip'd by my side,
And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands, Marking the embarked traders on the flood,
When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind; Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait Following,
--her womb then rich with my young squire,--
Would imitate, and sail upon the land,
To fetch me trifles, and return again,
As from a voyage, rich with merchandise."

How much time had passed, since they were gone? The girl within her said four hundred mortal years and more, but that was but a shadow of time. Mortals no longer worshipped them, now. Or feared them, if the behavior of her court's steeds was any clue.

Perhaps they should take a few of them with them, when they left.

Children, always children. So few, so wanted. Something about them that no fairy child, quick and immortal and adult within days, would ever have.

"But she, being mortal, of that boy did die; And for her sake do I rear up her boy,
And for her sake I will not part with him."

Oberon's fury on her success should have been banked years ago. There were other matters he should concern himself with...

And Lord Morpheus here, when he was already gone and transformed. Here, when she had attended his wake.

Let them not come together, oh gods.

He skipped a line or two, furious at her for this injury yet again and again occurring in their centuries of life together. "GIVE ME THAT BOY," he roared stepping back into her personal space, eyes golden with anger.

"Not for thy fairy kingdom," Parker hissed into his face. Titania blinked her/their eyes, unamused that the girl broke free to say the words herself in a snarl to raise hairs on the back of the neck.

"Fairies, away! We shall chide downright do I longer stay!" And best to get herself and the girl to a quiet spot, for a little talk on how one addresses the King of Beasts and Fairies.

They danced offstage with all haste, out of sight of one who must not know of any difficulty.

He watches Her depart with narrowed eyes and then positions himself away from her, angled towards the audience as He hisses low, "Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove till I torment thee for this injury."

Cruelty is ever the easiest and fairest judgment of the fairy kingdom. The particular level of vengeance portrayed in this text written centuries ago paled to what He had done to his Queen and likewise to how She had punished Him through the years.

But the human mind, the treasure that it was, could not fathom the depths of the fairy mind.

"My gentle Puck, come hither," he says absently, half as a line and half as the true words he speaks almost daily. As Puck comes closer to him, he notes that the human must be struggling inside of him and a smile curves on his lips. How wonderful. Putting his arm around the girl, he speaks his plot with a joyous lilt in his deep voice, crashing through the young human male's vocal capacity.

"…Having once this juice, I'll watch Titania when she is asleep, and drop the liquor of it in her eyes. The next thing then she waking looks upon, be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, or meddling monkey, or on busy ape, she shall pursue it with the soul of love: and ere I take this charm from off her sight, as I can take it with another herb, I'll make her render up her page to me," he says, a dreamy look in his eyes as he recalls her outrage at such similar incidents throughout the years. She belongs to Him and every dalliance, every change in affection will result in His vengeance.

He shakes himself out of his memory to the script as he remembers it. "But who comes here? I am invisible; and I will overhear their conference," he states, listening to the oncoming human actors and turning - quite truly - into an oak tree.

There was a heavy pause, and then the creature dressed in Logan's body skittered out on stage.
"Do I entice you?" he gasped, eyes darting around. The words tumbled from his mouth as fast as he could shove them. "Do I speak you fair? Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth/ Tell you, I do not, nor I cannot love you?"

He inched slowly towards the wings, waiting for his cue to leave.

Well, Oberon had at least tried to turn himself into a tree.

Something in the air kept him from using his powers to their full capacity. Grumbling, he grabbed some fake branches and held them strategically in a "I AM SO TOTALLY A TREE" pose. And he stared at the human creature that just bounded unto the stage. This was the human he was to trick into loving some bimbo with no backbone? Oberon sighed. Well, at least the human was rather cute. He adjusted one of the branches to get a better look.

"Helelelena" giggled a little before speaking and leaned toward her Demetrius. "And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you: Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, Unworthy as I am, to follow you. What worser place can I beg in your love,--
And yet a place of high respect with me,-- Than to be used as you use your dog?"

Somewhere deep inside, Callisto was screaming as she continued the argument with her would-be lover.

If the lad playing the vengeful human lover was cute, the amazon playing the lovesick woman was 100% His Type. He stared in absolute shock at the lovely woman as the scene played out, not listening to the words or paying much attention to anything else. Her blonde tresses were stunning in the stage light and she had a grace to her that few humans had. Oh, goddess, he thought, forgetting himself as he drank in her image.

However, there was a play to continue as she left the stage. And his sweet Puck had arrived again, perfectly on cue.

" Welcome, wanderer! Hast thou the flower there?" he asked, dropping the branches to the ground and standing at attention.

Ay, there it is. Puck said, rolling his -- her? -- eyes a little at the banality of the scripted words.

He passed the plant to Oberon.

His eyes gleamed. "I pray thee, give it me."

He took the flower and caressed a petal before placing it behind his ear. Putting his arm around Puck, he begun the beautiful speech about the place where Titania sleeps, "I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows…"

Easily, he told his henchman his plans and the next step in them – to help the lovesick amazon to her beloved Demetrius. It shamed him to speak the vague orders to Puck who would screw everything up, creating a hilarious comedic farce in the middle of his woods but he continued through the dialogue till his faithful servant departed.

Taking a moment to stare out into the audience, searching for a beautiful face framed with blonde hair. It took him only a few seconds to find and treasure it before leaving the stage himself.

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MSND [slowplay]

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