Wherefore Weep I Then?

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"But though I am a daughter to his blood, I am not to his manners."

February 17th

Wake up. 

A gray, cloudy day. What time is it? Not late enough, I know that. I could go back to sleep - no. I can't hide from this.

Get up. Feet on the floor. Now, wash up, brush out my hair, put on a dress. Three things, Cecily. Just three more things.

Someone's been in to light the fire. Should I call the maid? No. I don't want her. I don't want help.

What color do I wear today? Gray? Or black? Black. They expect black. Black is respectful, appropriate. I'll wear black for Mother. Mother never surrendered her dignity to what he was.

The Traffic of Our Stage

"Exit, pursued by a bear."

July 5th

The experience of months of rehearsals and a premiere performance seemed all for naught. The cast and crew of Who is The Gatekeeper? were in upheaval. The costumers were so far backed up that the stagehands had been called in to fix buttons and hems and hair. Finding things not been carefully reset after last night, Ann was re-organizing the sets and props herself. The few stagehands left to her mostly stood around her, insisting they had not made this mess. Morgaine was ambassador to the various provinces of this kingdom of insanity. As she ran to and fro, she shouted out warnings and reminders to anyone who had ears.

After learning a lesson last night, when she barely finished being dressed before the curtain went up, Belle Norman had arrived very early. She was among the first to be ready tonight. However, this had created a problem of a different sort: Belle had more time than she knew what to do with and no-one to spend it with.

An Old Accustomed Feast: Part Four

Content Warning: Click Here for Warnings (Possible Spoilers)

"These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope, they do not point on me."

December 25th

"Empty. What a cock-up," Cornwall muttered. He needed a drink - no, he deserved a drink. Since drinking the Fae potion to satisfy Regan, he was enduring a second adolescence ten times as potent than the first. If he hadn't yet been aroused by a hole in a fence, it was only a matter of time. The lust was like a headache. Relieving it was necessary, not pleasureful. For all the fucking he had done in three weeks, he hadn't enjoyed any of it. Drinking took the edge off the aching. "Goddamn it, my kingdom for a drink..."