@caughtinthegoddamnrye mentioned you on a post “Don Juan in Italy”:
@jennyfair7 wait so u think then real Piangi (will the real Piangi pls stand up😭) grabs the curtain, holds onto it, and then lets go when Ramin comes out so it looks ~seamless? Or Ramin grabs the curtain as Piangi is exiting the stage area?
But then in the world of the play how can he lasso him if both hands are holding the Curtain?? 😵💫😵💫 truly magical tbh
I can't explain it in-universe how Ramin can grab the curtain AND lasso Piangi 🤷♀️, but in theater-magic terms I think yes Ramin grabs the curtain as Piangi exits 👀
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the funniest thing that happened to me on tumblr is that around when I first started here I followed a guy, then followed another guy because he's that guy's friend but the first guy blocked me I assume for being annoying and I'm now mutuals with the second guy
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chapter 5 – liar liar (redux)
Casey was raised by six different adults; you'd think he'd be used to the intricate web of secrets they kept from him. Somehow it still always catches him off-guard.
Casey Jones Jr is familiar with losing people. He’s familiar with grief. But what is he supposed to do with grief for the death of a person sitting right in front of him?
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Narcissa eyed Bellatrix with a wary expression, her otherwise perfect complexion drawn with frown lines as she watched her sister attempt to drink away a stubborn virus that had the sadistic enchantress's throat in a tight knot for weeks now.
Narcissa exhaled deeply as thunder clapped in the distance, partly buffered by the marble walls. The sisters were sitting in the soft-lit sitting room, illuminated only by the enormous fireplace and the beams of moonlight pouring in between the curtains.
She bit her bottom lip as Bellatrix rested what was now another empty tot of fire whisky down on the coffee table. "Another," She demanded, did not ask.
"Bella," Narcissa tried carefully. "I don't doubt your ability to outdrink a platoon of men, but you are still bone-thin from Azkaban, be reasonable. Won't be good to the Dark Lord if you choke in your sleep from alcohol poisoning." Leaning back in her arm chair, she tried to offer her sister an understanding look. Voldemort had told Bellatrix that she could not leave the Malfoy Estate, with or without him until her cough was gone. And it was dangerous to get potions with the ministry now breathing down their neck since her husband's arrest.
There was little that Bellatrix hated more than being sick. Over days the witch had tried everything, but this virus was stubborn and unrelenting, letting her know it intended to run its full course before any recovery would take place. Thankfully, Bella did not become ill often. As it were, her head pounded and her chest rattled with every cough, pointed aristocratic nose cherry red. She felt pathetic and useless, disgusted by the fact such an affliction could render her such a whiny pup. An affliction that would make a couch potato of an every day muggle. And yet, there she was, wrapped in a blanket on the sofa shivering beneath its engulfing warmth.
It had only been a month and a half since Bellatrix had given birth. Because of this, the Dark Lord was still more-or-less excluding his greatest asset from combat, and just when it seemed she may finally get in on the action again, of course. The fucking illness. The whole situation leaving Madame Lestrange absolutely miserable.
Bellatrix turned towards her sister, scowling faintly whilst looking Narcissa dead in the eye and summoning the house elf to fill her up once more. As if to spite her, Bellatrix downed the round of firewhiskey, slamming her glass down.
"Oops. You were saying, Cissy?"
Bella lay down to sprawl her achy bones out over the sofa. "Alcohol is a disinfectant," she muttered, face down into the throw pillow, knowing well that wasn't exactly how it worked.
She twisted around like a cat to face her sister once more. Bella began to laugh, then dissolved into a coughing fit. "You cow. Don't act as if you suddenly care about whether or not I'm useful to the Dark Lord. You've never once supported this. Your involvement goes only as far as your husband's, which isn't far, in fact. He's useless." She hissed her last words as her blood boiled at the thought of Lucius Malfoy currently leading the missions. They'd be doomed.
"It's you isn't it? Hmm, Cissy? Making me ill. So you can keep me around for longer." Bella felt a small smirk tugging at her unusually pale lips while teasing Narcissa. Getting a rise out of her was so entertaining, and the ice blonde made it so easy.
"That's always been the root of your anguish. The Dark Lord taking away everything you love from you.. one by one. Your sister, your husband, and now, your little boy... I sincerely hope for your sake my sweet Cissy, that the poor baby doesn't take after his daddy."
As soon as Bella watched the color drain of Narcissa's face, indicating her emotional response to Bella's words, she moved herself back to create a tiny bit of extra room on the sofa she lay.
"Come, Cissy. Come now.. come lay with me." When narcissa hesitated, Bellatrix rolled her eyes.
"You can cut the theatrics. You know you want to."
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FUCK YEAH!!!!
I... what?
I just found out I got murdered and you're cheering? What is wrong with you?
Me, my friends, all of us, blasted into oblivion by that monster Tirek, and who knows how many ponies after us! Everypony else already tried fighting him – the royal guard, the Wonderbolts, everypony, and they all failed! And that was when he was weaker! My friends and I were the last resort after every other option was gone, and we failed too, and you think this is a time to say fuck yeah?
Sun and stars. You're as much of a monster as he is.
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chapter 11 – nose to the grindstone
Stubbornness is a Jones family tradition, and Casey aims to embody it wholly. After all, what problem can't be solved through sheer determination?
Casey Jones Jr is familiar with losing people. He’s familiar with grief. But what is he supposed to do with grief for the death of a person sitting right in front of him?
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