He's mentioned when Laertes comes back to Denmark, he's a Norman who said Laertes was a great fencer, or something. I wanted to see if it would work. ;)
(Jasper/Crisparkle, then. Since Paget/Moncrieffe is actually sort of canon in our production.)
All right, fine, let's see if I can pull this off.
"Didst boast to them of how I fence, sir?" Laertes stroked his shoulder, but didn't manage a laugh. "Thou knowst I am naught but myself."
"Thyself is great, knowst thou not that? I told them truth. Thou canst beat the man who slew thy--"
Lamond was cut off by a kiss on his cheek. "Speak not o' that. I shall do only what I know."
...nokeyword, ha.
(Let's see, now--
"I didn't kill him. You know that," Jasper whispered through the window of the confessional. All he could see of the reverend from where he knelt was an eye and a bit of grey hair. "I might be mad, but I didn't kill him. You know me too well to think so."
Skulking around the mausoleum, with a flair of drama and a swirl of black cloak, Bazzard stumbles right into a man. Of all the bad luck! The fellow's drunk, and will be more of a hindrance than a help! This becomes even more startlingly clear when the man grabs him and kisses him, mumbling something about a darling beautiful rose--
Because you're a sadist, Karla. Stop. You can have one more after this, and THAT'S IT. XD
In the church, deserted on a Wednesday, John Jasper practises his piano for hours, playing the same piece over and over again, a piece written for a flute, which he plays as though it were written for piano. He is readying himself; within the hour the old reverend will come, and Jaspar will play him finer than any piano he ever touched.
"Bread for breakfast or air, cherie?" Bossuet calls back over his shoulder.
"Only if you promise you'll wash your hands first. Or, better yet, use tongs and a knife and don't touch it. You always get things on bread that make me ill."
"Suppose I kiss it all over first?"
"Bossuet!"
"Don't worry." He smiles to himself as he tears off a piece of bread with his (washed) hands. "If there are things on the bread that make a fellow ill, I'm going to be the one who suffers them."
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-28 11:48 pm (UTC)(By the way, do you know the musical Mystery of Edwin Drood?)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-28 11:53 pm (UTC)(Book and musical, I'm good on both.)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-28 11:56 pm (UTC)(Jasper/Crisparkle, then. Since Paget/Moncrieffe is actually sort of canon in our production.)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-29 12:04 am (UTC)"Didst boast to them of how I fence, sir?" Laertes stroked his shoulder, but didn't manage a laugh. "Thou knowst I am naught but myself."
"Thyself is great, knowst thou not that? I told them truth. Thou canst beat the man who slew thy--"
Lamond was cut off by a kiss on his cheek. "Speak not o' that. I shall do only what I know."
...nokeyword, ha.
(Let's see, now--
"I didn't kill him. You know that," Jasper whispered through the window of the confessional. All he could see of the reverend from where he knelt was an eye and a bit of grey hair. "I might be mad, but I didn't kill him. You know me too well to think so."
"Yes," Crisparkle said. "I know you too well."
...withthekeyword!)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-29 12:29 am (UTC)Rosa/Ophelia, veil. >:)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-29 12:33 am (UTC)Rosa purses her lips, unwilling to be afraid of the muddy, tangle-haired girl. "May I brush your hair?"
"An you take my veil--'tis silken, harm it not--"
So Rosa picks the reeds out first, before she begins to brush. Her flouncy, ruffle-and-ribbon'd little self is achy somewhere.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-29 01:18 am (UTC)So...more with the Drood. Er...Durdles/Bazzard, mausoleum. (Can you tell I'm sort of pulling them out of the air now?)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-30 07:35 pm (UTC)...I hate you. XD
Skulking around the mausoleum, with a flair of drama and a swirl of black cloak, Bazzard stumbles right into a man. Of all the bad luck! The fellow's drunk, and will be more of a hindrance than a help! This becomes even more startlingly clear when the man grabs him and kisses him, mumbling something about a darling beautiful rose--
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-30 11:14 pm (UTC)...by the way, youwinsomuch.
Do write Jasper/Crisparkle again (or Paget/Moncrieffe, or both in one photofic), if you don't mind. :) "Flute".
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-31 02:22 am (UTC)In the church, deserted on a Wednesday, John Jasper practises his piano for hours, playing the same piece over and over again, a piece written for a flute, which he plays as though it were written for piano. He is readying himself; within the hour the old reverend will come, and Jaspar will play him finer than any piano he ever touched.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-31 11:40 am (UTC)<33333333333333333333333333333333
...ahem. Normal pairing now. Joly/Bossuet, toast.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 04:40 pm (UTC)"Bread for breakfast or air, cherie?" Bossuet calls back over his shoulder.
"Only if you promise you'll wash your hands first. Or, better yet, use tongs and a knife and don't touch it. You always get things on bread that make me ill."
"Suppose I kiss it all over first?"
"Bossuet!"
"Don't worry." He smiles to himself as he tears off a piece of bread with his (washed) hands. "If there are things on the bread that make a fellow ill, I'm going to be the one who suffers them."
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 05:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 05:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 08:15 pm (UTC)