♙ » ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴜs ᴛʜɪs ᴅᴀʏ.

Rosencrantz shuffled slightly when he received the disapproving look from his friends. Realizing the mirroring he was doing, the Elizabethan lowered his arms slowly and shifted his stance to try and be different from his friend. That was when the pacing started again.

He was slower in his movements this time, more thoughtful, though the air of nervousness and uncertainty still surrounded him.

As his friend moved to speak, Rosencrantz jumped up on a nearby barrel, towering over his friend and looking down at him, taking the role of the ‘King’. He stood proudly, crossing his arms again, before interrupting Guildenstern. “I’ve never HEARD of you!” He bellowed out, in his best authoritative ‘Kingly’ voice, talking over his friend. “What’s your GAME?!”

          lips pressed tightly together once he was cut off, eyes following rosencrantz. if his friend had let him FINISH, it would have explained their situation. but alas, it seemed that it was being turned into some kind of GAME  ---  scenario ?  whatever it was, perhaps it was a way of easing the nerves that had come over rosencrantz. in which case, guildenstern couldn’t be TOO irritated by it.

         crossed arms finally dropped back to his sides, one more deep breath being pulled through his nose. fuck. why was the scenario so . . . nerve-wracking? it was only rosencrantz. was it because that he wasn’t too sure what to ACTUALLY say to the king of england ?  well, it was a good thing it was initiated. . . 

MUSE :  

name : david guildenstern /  nickname : guildenstern  /  zodiac sign : virgo  /  gender : male  / favourite colour : salmon  / average hours of sleep : six  /  last thing you googled : (modern au) “what’s the difference between telling a lie  &  keeping a secret ?”  /  height : 5′5″

MUN :

“I suppose we could…” Rosencrantz nodded slightly as he folded his arms, almost mimicking Guildenstern exactly, in both stance and tone of voice. That was, probably, why others always confused the two of them. He knew his friend didn’t like it, but he could never be ORIGINAL. He always had to copy, twist someone else’s words to make them his own.Unfortunately, that someone always seemed to be Guildenstern.

Rosencrantz bit his lip slightly. They still hadn’t DECIDED on what to do, but at least things were a little clearer for him. The Elizabethan knew what he had to do right now, and that was what mattered, wasn’t it? There was a pause, a comfortable silence between the two, before Rosencrantz started asking questions again.

“What about when we get there? Where do we GO? What do we SAY?” He frowned, quickly adding “To the English King.” For clarification.

          his eyes narrowed ever so slightly towards his friend once taking note of the mimicry. again with the repetition ?  the mirroring of body language ?  for the time being, guildenstern let it GO, not bothering to point it out. instead, he chose to ENJOY the silence that hung in the air between them. a break was always relieving.

         or rather, it was relieving until rosencrantz began to question him again. he assumed the answers were CLEAR  &  yet, he could see the obvious curiosity in his friend’s eyes. lips had parted to speak, but he said nothing for several beats. why did this scenario seem . . . FAMILIAR ?  they had never ben on a boat before but he could swear they had been in the exact situation before. . .

              you can’t act death. the fact of it is NOTHING to do with seeing it  happen.    it’s    not               GASPS  &  blood  &  falling about. that isn’t what makes death. it’s just a man   failing               to reappear, that’s  ALL. now you see him, now you DON’T, that’s the only thing that’s               real  :  here one minute  &  GONE the next  &  N E V E R  coming back  ---  an   EXIT,               unobtrusive  &  unannounced, a DISAPPEARANCE gathering weight as  it  goes  on,               until,              finally,               it              is              heavy              with          DEATH.

          a small cloud of smoke rose from slightly parted lips, glossed over eyes watching as it lifted only to fade into the night air. it was always the same routine  :  wake up, walk to work, walk home, sleep. it was all becoming MUNDANE. guildenstern wanted to  T R A V E L  &  yet, he could never find the time. at times, he had considered going as far as to cut out his work COMPLETELY just to be able to explore lands outside of denmark. perhaps he could move somewhere else, find a job there  &  follow that routine instead. of course, changing it after a couple weeks to a couple months.

          he was pulled free from his thoughts when colliding into another man whilst walking along the sidewalk. a faint curse escaped him as he took a step back, processing what just happened. wait. he ran into a person. he just ran into a stranger. blue hues were quick to rise up to meet the other’s, mouth opening to speak, but no words escaped him. instead, he was S I L E N T. guildenstern recognized that face and yet, he could have sworn he’d never seen the man before tonight. so, why did his name seem to HANG on the tip of his tongue?

A loose thread on his sleeve seemed to occupy Rosencrantz for a long moment. He pulled at it, twisting it around his fingers, fiddling nervously with the thin thread as his friend spoke and avoiding eye contact with him. When he finally spoke again, he seemed calmer. Everything was fine, they were fine, they were going to be free.

“…We can do whatever we want?” Rosencrantz repeated what Guildenstern had just said, as if to reassure himself. “We’ll be free?” After a moment he looked back up at his friend. “…What do you want to do? Where do you want to go?”

          guildenstern nodded, confirming rosencrantz’s questions. although, the next few were left hanging in the air. his tongue CLICKED against the roof of his mouth while arms folded over his chest in contemplation. he had never thought or felt compelled to do ANY specific task or go anywhere specific. he had just followed where the WIND took them.

Me: empty

Them: what

Now I’m imagining Guildenstern as a literal queen. Like… a really flamboyant drag queen.

You got: The powerful queen

Perhaps you are Titania, fairy queen of the forest. Or maybe you’re Cleopatra, clever queen of Egypt. Possibly you’re Lady Macbeth, who becomes queen of Scotland in the fullness of time. The point is there are many ways to be a queen, and whether you live or die depends entirely on how many murders you committed, oversaw, or actively encouraged during your reign. (Unless you are Anne Boleyn, in which case good luck with that.)

Tagged by: @aliveinabox

“…T-That’s it?” He muttered quietly, his voice small. Rosencrantz leaned into his friend’s touch slightly, seeking the comfort it provided, as he stared down at his hands. “That’s all we have to do…?” There was a pause, where he sniffled and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, before he started to panic slightly again.

“So, we get to England. We give this ‘English King’ the letter and then what? That’s ‘the end’? What happens to us then? Where do we go? What do we do? It can’t just stop like that!”

         he thought it was over. there was the sniffle accompanied by silence  &  guildensternwrongly assumed that rosencrantz would be alright. but, the panic proved OTHERWISE. his hand was quick to withdraw with surprise. he had thought the plan made perfect sense, but apparently, there were still some HOLES in it. it didn’t seem like anything TOO major.

Rosencrantz took a deep, shaking breath as he turned to look at his friend, trying to calm himself down. It wasn’t working. He felt his face contouring slightly as he tried not to cry. They were on a boat, there was enough salt water all around them, they didn’t need his tears adding to the mix. 

“Deliver him? Deliver him where?!” What were they doing? Where were they going? He had so many questions, and no answers to offer. “What are we doing?!”

        it hurt guildenstern to see rosencrantz in such a panicked  --  scared ?  -- state. their job was relatively SIMPLE. they only had to take hamlet to england  &  deliver the letter they received from the king to the king of england. yet . . . it still seemed OFF. something didn’t add up, but with the state his friend was in, he couldn’t DARE speak the concerns that vexed him.