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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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Titania responded in kind, one leg rising to caress his, and drape across one hip. After several deep tongue-entwining kisses, she broke away a moment, and said, "Soft. I have news you must know before aught else occurs. Dream is here. My Lord Shaper lives, if briefly, in this place."

He flinches and slides out of her arms, eyes golden once more in fury. "What is the meaning of this? How can this be?"

"From the girl's mind, I glean that ours is not the only realm to touch this." Titania's voice is soft and sorrowing in the dark. "At the break of the play, he came to tell me of his son's death." She swallowed, and tears might be audible. "You know what follows from that." One white arm reached for him, beckoning. "Husband?"

"Must I be moved to pity by this tale?" he asked coldly, taking her hand nonetheless.

She laced her fingers with his. "No. I know for you there was no grief, only such respect as exists between those of equal stature, if not power." Titania swayed into him, then whispered, "It might yet be you, my lord. I never thought to see him gone. And then he was, and I... mourned. I did not let myself do more than that."

"Were you to die, there would be no more revels."

"Were you to die," he replied without hesitation, "there would be no more of this sweet earth."

Her mouth descended on his at that, starving-hungry, her balance gone as she threw herself at him. "Never, ever say that."

And bless the girl Puck possessed, for taking away the shirt of the youth who hosted her love; bless her for the kilt, and ohh, curse the darkness, that she could not find the clasp. Enough, then. Hot fingers trailed downward and below the skirt, as she gulped for air in the dark.

A small voice far down, said, Damn. Oh, fuck it... And was quiet.

"Minx," he teased before tugging with his own desperation at her complex clasps at the back of her dress. He sighed with discontent, "if only I could use my powers right now."

She had reached him by now and he sucked a deep breath into his lungs, too much oxygen making him dizzy along with the sensation of intense pleasure at her expert touch.

Her laughter, rich and mocking, was thready with arousal. "No harm. No joining, then. The girl will fight, and I do not wish to waste our time." She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, the friction burn making heat rise to her face. "But we may find some completion, without taking such risks." Titania bit his neck, nibbling the line of his throat, careful not to leave marks. "Does your steed dream still?" A lick along the line she'd bit, her hands warm where best applied.

"You care too much for your human host, my Queen," he purred into her ear. "And my steed sleeps soundly. He would be in much pain if he were awake, I am too much for any mortal to bear."

"I, care?" She laughed softly. "She is a fury, and I have plans to pay her back."

A stirring.Oh, really? What do you plan?

"I thought to take those with us, who wish to go--"

NO. A definite blast of rage there, and then: I'll tell him everything. I'll tell the Professor all about how he died. I'll wreck it all, time and the future or the past, and you won't be able to go home, and you don't *dare* try to drag me with you, Queenie.

Anger rose, and Titania stilled for a moment. You dare?

Try me. Callisto wasn't kidding, you know. You leave, go don't come back, it all stays. An ache of sorrow. Maybe I'll try anyway--

No. Your terms... are acceptable.

"--But I have better food now." She laughed in Oberon's ear, husky and brushed her breasts against his chest. "The girl's lovelorn knight watches anon, to guard her. See?" She cocked her head to where Jarod sat on the edge of the stage, peering into the shadows.

Oberon peered at the human watching them through narrowed eyes and scoffed. "You mean to tell me that after all this I shall not have my Queen after all? Patience is not a virtue I admire."

"He will do nothing. They are 'friends.'" The mockery in her voice trailed away as she slid her lips along his collar bone, and traced arcane pattens across his skin. "He will press no claim, present no challenge."

BITCH!

...it takes one, my dear, to... And more laughter.

"Kiss me now, touch me, taste me, the girl is willing to a point-- you wear the form of one who she dallied with, and she has longings left unfulfilled."

"Is that why this body seems to know just how to--" he whispered as he slid a hand to her waist, bringing her closer to him so he could lean down and kiss the softness of her skin barely covered by corset, his tongue slipping under leather to taste the skin of her breast.

"Ahhhhhh, yes," she whispered, then moaned, not loud, but loud enough to carry beyond their alcove, arching her back, gasping for breath. "My dear lord...." She found him beneath the kilt, and began stroking, teasing, learning the ways in which his steed-- laughter here, from the depths of her mind-- differed from her husband. Warmer, more primal....

"Ah, my dear, you are too gentle," he crooned before sliding down to pull at the edge of her skirt. "And I am not in the mood for gentle."

"We must not mark the boy too much," she warned him, licking at the edges of his mouth, running one hand down his form's muscled arm, then giving a breathless chuckle as she applied her nails again, with more intent. She swung her leg back over his hip again, and worried at his earlobe, her blood starting to pool with growing lust.

With her skirt bunched around her waist, he pressed her against the wall and held her leg firmly around him. "Oh, my sweet Titania," he whispered before sliding a hand along her thigh to reach those dark mysteries of womankind.

She captured his lips again, growing savage with frustration, cutting her moans into soundless gasping, her hand opening and closing over him with more force. A Queen does not beg with words, or with actions, but she may bare her throat, and arch into the one touching her with skilled and sweet hands.

The furvor of his passion grew out of control as he sealed himself into her, ripping both King and Queen of the Fae out of their human steeds for a desperate dance in the dark shadows.

Lee, however, fell to the floor, unconscious.

Parker slid to the floor, far too aroused for comfort, confused, and a little scared. "What--" That was her voice, and now she could move her arms and legs without anything stopping her. After a second's confusion she crouched by the unconscious guy before her. "Lee? Lee!" She groaned, and rubbed at her face, trying to catch her breath. "God. Damn. Fairies."

Quick and frenzied, the fairies joined in mutual bliss before shrieking back into the bodies of their chosen steeds. There was Act Five to finish and they had never not finished a performance.

Oberon jerked back to his feet, holding out a hand to Titania to help her up. "You are exquisite, my love."

She took his hand and rose to her feet, then gave him one last lingering kiss. "My steed wishes to hurt you," she whispered softly, chuckling. "But not as much as she wishes to hurt me, leaving her wanting and alone in the dark." Titania stretched out her neck, then purred. "Revenge is sweet."

Hate. You. So. Much.

Free advice, my dear Parker, from one who is Queen to one who would be, in some fashion: Mortal lives are short enough that love may last as long as a human life. My lord and I must ever find ways to make our love new. You, denying what you already have, are throwing away coin you can not save.

"Mortals," he scoffed. "Well, shall we see how the play has progressed, dear one?"

"Let us watch the close of the festivities, and mock where we may." She took his hand, and led him farther backstage. "Our plots fall out better than we could have planned, my lord."

And better than you deserve.

Our promise stands?

...it stands.

And Titania closed her eyes, and put thoughts of Morpheus away as she walked into the shadows with her husband.

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MSND [slowplay]

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