tvklogs | The Masquerade Ball Begins

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The Masquerade Ball Begins

Who: William Shakespeare and EVERYONE
Where: His ~~playboy~~ Mansion
When: Friday 16th
Summary: Shakespeare organized a Masquerade Ball.
Rating: PG

[ Shakespeare work hard and organized the best thing ever. Or at least he spent tons of money in this party. Soon the day arrived and everything was ready for this to be a night people would never be able to forget. ~~HAHAHAHA THIS IS FUNNY CONSIDERING WHAT IT'S AWAITING FOR HIM~~

Okay, Miyu kinda fails to this quick things. I'm gonna work in the sub threads, excuse me. Also, feel free to make new ones and remember to put your tag here.

~~Please wait until I strike this text before replying ;w;~~ GO WILD AND FEEL FREE TO MAKE PERSONAL THREADS AS WELL. ]

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Don't start that sentimental bullshit with me, William. I've already spouted enough of that for the both of us.

[She ground her teeth together, crossing her arms. All of a sudden Rider was painfully aware of how uncomfortable she was. From the situation she was in right down to the ribbon tying her hair back, everything was foreign and twisted and wrong. She just wanted to know who or what to shoot to fix this utter clusterfuck.]

I'm not...it's complicated. And I don't know if I can tell you, because if you knew then you would definitely look at me differently. And that would just piss me off like you wouldn't believe.

[ The pause was longer this time, as he carefully watched her and what seemed to bother her. His eyes were reading her actions, what she really wanted to tell him under that act she was given to the stage. ]

Francis, you offend me to think that I would think differently of you if I were to know your secret. The feelings I have for you do not care if you wear a dress or the pirate's clothes you do like.

[ He took off the mask, looking at her directly. ]

What is it that you fear to tell me, Francis?

I am not afraid!

[She was shaking now, though that was more likely sudden anger than anything else. Anger at what, exactly, was unclear. It wasn't him, wasn't this stupid damned dress, wasn't the fact that she thought she was insane for spending an hour brushing her hair...she was just frustrated that he was right. No matter how she covered it up, at that moment she was nervous for the first time in recent memory.]

...Listen to me carefully, William. I am about to tell you something no living person on this earth knows. I am not like you; not like any heroic spirit, I dare say. I have my legend and my acts recorded, and yes, I am the one to whom all those acts were credited. I am Francis Drake, and yet...I'm not.

[She sounded calmer now, though her voice was strained by an edge of frustration and hesitation.]

I have been Francis Drake for many years. I am a privateer and a navigator, the best there has ever been. But I...was not born under the name 'Francis Drake'. I was neither born to a farmer and his wife nor was I the eldest of twelve children.

One night, a friend--my only friend--gave me a choice. I could stay in a palace where everything was done for me, or I could jump out the window, run to the shore, get on his ship, and run away to take all the world for my own. Make my own choices, live my own life. And all I had to do in return was take that sailor's name for myself and make it famous.

We switched places that night, he and I. For the rest of our lives, each assumed the other's position and name. The only others that knew were his closest shipmates and my closest servants.

I've never told anyone because...it doesn't matter. I'm Francis Drake now, and I have been for long enough that I don't really care about the alternative. But you, you....you idiot, if you were anyone else, I wouldn't have had to tell you!

God knows I've done so much lying and thievery that a little more doesn't matter worth a damn, but it had to be you, William goddamned Shakespeare! It had to be the one person that made me feel like an idiot for lying to!

[She shook with a combination of anger and...what must have been nerves. Rider really didn't know for certain. When was the last time she had cared enough to be nervous? When had she ever feared anything? Damn him. Damn him and all of this.]

This...is the truth of it, William. You and I met once, possibly twice, when both of us were still alive and before I was Temeroso el Draque. I remember this, and I know that you do too. I was young back then, without my share of scars and in a stupid dress like this one.

But I had a different name then. I wasn't born Francis Drake, I was...I was Elizabeth I. Daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn.

And if you so much as think about looking at me differently now, I swear on the Golden Hind I will shoot you right here!

[ Shakespeare listened once more without saying anything. He was an actor, he could hide his surprise to her words to not stress her more than she already was. What she speak was the truth, there was no room to doubt in it. If history knew then things could stand a controversy beyond imaginable.

So it had come down to this. The familiar feeling he felt around here, that vague presence that made him remember the past days. It was a faint one, that was for sure. Not even him would have been able to make such connection. He was a special case that he ended as an Heroic Spirit, he always believed as such.

"Love is too young to know what conscience is."

He once said that in the past. And now, years later in a strange city with a curse in the night, they met once more. Was this script written to face this? Was William Shakespeare supposed to walk this path?

His own consciousness doubted at first. When the lights were out, what was he? Romeo, Hamlet, Henry, Macbeth... William... Who was the real one? No, he had no time to face this again. Right now, such as she was Francis Drake, he was William Shakespeare. He knew that this feelings were real, they weren't written for him to play them.

When he observed the stage of Prospero from the outside, with his author perspective, he didn't saw the piece of William Shakespeare developing feelings for Francis Drake. Was his author self the one that induced it in the end? As he loved and cared for this works, was this a way to express that the author loved this particular piece? ]

[ Shakespeare disposed of those thoughts quickly. Deep inside this feelings were his and no the author's ones. Even him can change his script once in a while.

So, he just smiled. ]

I would lie if I said I am not surprised. [ To think that he is talking with the Queen and yet not. Only Shakespeare can understand that in this moment. ] The words you spoke, I do not doubt them, Elizabeth. You have my gratitude for telling me this and sharing me your history. While it is true that I once served you as your favorite playwright, I am quite content that you still have good memories of the past days related to mine self.

And if I were to say, you have such braveness to stand here to tell me this. Though as I spoke before, the feelings that have awaken in my heart are for the one you are one. Francis, Elizabeth... Fear not, as you have this fool at your mercy.

[ William brings her close to pull her in a close hug. The hold is gently and yet firm. If she wishes to break it apart, then he will not force it. ]

You are quite stubborn, that much has not changed. And so I am to speak of this matter, when I carelessly do this act to not lose you. A man's treasure is his honor and his lover's happiness, as they said in the old times.

'The past is the prologue.' Should we write this script together now, the only woman that captivated me to this state?

...

[Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. She should have pushed him away, should have slapped him the moment he dared call her that name even once.]

[Villains didn't get happy endings. She didn't want one. Rider wanted to burn as brightly as she could, no matter how quickly it means she'd burn out. She couldn't do this; couldn't live in the kind of place she'd actively run away from. It wasn't right for her to get the fairytale ending.]

...you're an idiot. [Her voice was oddly quiet, lacking the anger she held only moments before.] Stick with me and your precious script's never going to end well.

[ He was fine with it. If this script was going to end in a tragedy, then he will gladly accept it. After all, he was quite fond of them in after all. William gave her another smile, quite pleased that he hadn't pushed him away. ]

Didn't I say before I was a fool? [ Shakespeare made a pause at that. ]. 'A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool. '

And if my script must be tainted to write itself as a tragedy in the end, so be it. Willingly as I am to take this chance, first I need to know if you will accept my company to it?

[She didn't need anyone. Not like this, at least. Vriska, Feferi, Nathan...she just wanted them around, she didn't need them, right? So why was this different? Why had she found herself incapable of shutting her mouth around him, to the point where she even dared to speak of the name she was born with?]

You talk too much.

[Whatever. It wasn't in her nature to worry this much, and it frankly made her a little nauseated to bother with. So why waste her time? Their time?]

[If Francis Drake wanted something, she took it. That was simple fact, and that was the reason she grabbed his collar and pulled him into a sudden kiss as her answer.]

[ He had no objections to that, as he quickly finds himself answering her kiss in the same way. He hold her close and firmly, this time sure that she wouldn't leave him.

Maybe it was true. He sometimes talks too much. ]

[This was nice, Rider decided as she broke apart with a smirk. In fact, she could get used to this.]

[But she'd just about have killed for a damn pair of pants at this point.]

...so now what, exactly?

[ Shakespeare takes her hand for a moment. ]

Do you wish to change your clothes for ones you are more comfortable with? And, for another important matter, do you wish to keep a secret of this or not?

I suppose I can wear this for a little longer. [She flashed a mischievous smile.] I'm hiding a few too many pistols under this skirt to change into a pair of pants now.

I think I'll leave that up to you. It goes without saying that I might have to kill you if you start telling everyone my little secret, but other than that I really don't care.

I feel lucky that you have not shot anyone.

Worry not, I will not tell anyone your secret. Perhaps I will brag that such beautiful woman is now owner of this fool man in the future.

You should think yourself fortunate. I may take whatever I want, but I only keep what I find truly worth my attention.

Oh, you have raised my curiosity. Am I know part of your famous treasure?

Obviously. I should think that goes without saying.

[ He smiles for a moment. ]

I am pleased to see that you are back to yourself. Will you grace this poor man with a dance?

It'll take more than a few minutes of idiocy to stop me for long.

I suppose I could grant you that much at least.

[ He bows gently and extends his hand to her. ]

Then I shall lead the way, if you do not mind me.

I guess I'll allow you to do so this one time.

[She took his hand, wearing the usual arrogant smirk.]

I'm flattered then.

[ He smiles back at her, even chuckling lowly. There, he will start leading the dance.

AND TRY TO AVOID BEING STEPPED ON BY HER IN THE PROCESS. ]

[Rider wasn't an awkward person by any means. And once upon a time she had surely known how to dance.]

[Buuuuut that was no longer the case.]

...whoops. Sorry, was that your foot?

The Masquerade Ball Begins

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