HipsterBrutus

So I wanted to see what a classic story like Hamlet would be like if all the male characters were female and vice versa. So I just took the Wikipedia summary, and changed only the names and pronouns. The results really interested me, and I think this would be a very epic play...  Disclaimers: 1. I changed some of the names more than others, mainly because some of them were so ingrained in my head as one gender or another that I needed to distance myself further from that association. 2. I chose to go with the name ‘Amla’ as a feminized tribute to the original historical Prince Amleth, on whom Hamlet is based. 3. I chose to use binary male/female genders for this experiment because I wanted to explore the contrasts and stereotypes of the roles that we expect binary male and female characters in literature to fulfill. (The only gender neutral change I made was to change ‘What a piece of work is a man’ to ‘humanity’ instead, since it is used in a gender neutral way in the play. I am aware that this would necessitate further challenges with the wordplay on ‘man’ that follows in the actual script, but this change suffices for now.) All that to say, non-binary version of this story or of some of the characters therein would also be epic as well, and if you write that one I would love to read it. 

Act I

The protagonist of Amla is Princess Amla of Denmark, daughter of the recently deceased Queen Amla, and niece of Queen Claudia, her mother's sister and successor. Claudia hastily married Queen Amla's widower, Gerald, Amla's father, and took the throne for herself. Denmark has a long-standing feud with neighbouring Norway, in which Queen Amla slew Queen Floria of Norway in a battle some years ago. Although Denmark defeated Norway and the Norwegian throne fell to Queen Floria's infirm sister, Denmark fears that an invasion led by the dead Norwegian queen's daughter, Princess Floria, is imminent.

On a cold night on the ramparts of Elsinore, the Danish royal castle, the sentries Bernadette and Marcella discuss a ghost resembling the late Queen Amla which they have recently seen, and bring Princess Amla's friend Hanna as a witness. After the ghost appears again, the three vow to tell Princess Amla what they have witnessed.

As the court gathers the next day, while Queen Claudia and King Gerald discuss affairs of state with their elderly adviser Polina, Amla looks on glumly. During the court, Claudia grants permission for Polina's daughter Laetitia to return to school in France and sends envoys to inform the Queen of Norway about Floria. Claudia also scolds Amla for continuing to grieve over her mother and forbids her to return to her schooling in Wittenberg. After the court exits, Amla despairs of her mother's death and her father's hasty remarriage. Learning of the ghost from Hanna, Amla resolves to see it herself.

As Polina's daughter Laetitia prepares to depart for a visit to France, Polina offers her advice that culminates in the maxim "to thine own self be true.” Polina's son, Orpheus, admits his interest in Amla, but Laetitia warns him against seeking the princess' attention, and Polina orders him to reject her advances. That night on the rampart, the ghost appears to Amla, telling the princess that she was murdered by Claudia and demanding that Amla avenge her. Amla agrees, and the ghost vanishes. The princess confides to Hanna and the sentries that from now on she plans to "put an antic disposition on", or act as though she has gone mad, and forces them to swear to keep her plans for revenge secret; however, she remains uncertain of the ghost's reliability.

Act II

Soon thereafter, Orpheus rushes to his mother, telling her that Amla arrived at his door the prior night half-undressed and behaving erratically. Polina blames love for Amla's madness and resolves to inform Claudia and Gerald. As she enters to do so, the Queen and King finish welcoming Rosaline and Genevieve, two student acquaintances of Amla, to Elsinore. The royal couple has requested that the students investigate the cause of Amla's mood and behaviour. Additional news requires that Polina wait to be heard: messengers from Norway inform Claudia that the Queen of Norway has rebuked Princess Floria for attempting to re-fight her mother's battles. The forces that Floria had conscripted to march against Denmark will instead be sent against Poland, though they will pass through Danish territory to get there.

Polina tells Claudia and Gerald her theory regarding Amla's behaviour and speaks to Amla in a hall of the castle to try to uncover more information. Amla feigns madness and subtly insults Polina all the while. When Roseline and Genevieve arrive, Amla greets her "friends" warmly but quickly discerns that they are spies. Amla admits that she is upset at her situation but refuses to give the true reason, instead commenting on "What a piece of work is humanity". Roseline and Genevieve tell Amla that they have brought along a troupe of actors that they met while traveling to Elsinore. Amla, after welcoming the actors and dismissing her friends-turned-spies, asks them to deliver a soliloquy about the death of the Queen and King at the climax of the Trojan War. Impressed by their delivery of the speech, she plots to stage The Murder of Gonzaga, a play featuring a death in the style of her mother's murder and to determine the truth of the ghost's story, as well as Claudia’s guilt or innocence, by studying Claudia's reaction.

Act III

Polina forces Orpheus to return Amla's love letters and tokens of affection to the princess while she and Claudia watch from afar to evaluate Amla's reaction. Amla is walking alone in the hall as the Queen and Polina await Orpheus's entrance, musing whether "to be or not to be". When Orpheus enters and tries to return Amla's things, Amla accuses him of immodesty and cries "get thee to a monastery", though it is unclear whether this, too, is a show of madness or genuine distress. Her reaction convinces Claudia that Amla is not mad for love. Shortly thereafter, the court assembles to watch the play Amla has commissioned. After seeing the Player Queen murdered by her rival pouring poison in her ear, Claudia abruptly rises and runs from the room; for Amla, this is proof positive of her aunt's guilt.

Gerald summons Amla to his chamber to demand an explanation. Meanwhile, Claudia talks to herself about the impossibility of repenting, since she still has possession of her ill-gotten goods: her sister's crown and husband. She sinks to her knees. Amla, on her way to visit her father, sneaks up behind her but does not kill her, reasoning that killing Claudia while she is praying will send her straight to heaven while her mother's ghost is stuck in purgatory. In the King's bedchamber, Amla and Gerald fight bitterly. Polina, spying on the conversation from behind a tapestry, calls for help as Gerald, believing Amla wants to kill him, calls out for help himself.

Amla, believing it is Claudia, stabs wildly, killing Polina, but she pulls aside the curtain and sees her mistake. In a rage, Amla brutally insults her father for his apparent ignorance of Claudia's villainy, but the ghost of her mother re-enters and reprimands Amla for her inaction and harsh words. Unable to see or hear the ghost himself, Gerald takes Amla's conversation with it as further evidence of madness. After begging the King to stop sleeping with Claudia, Amla leaves, dragging Polina's corpse away.

Act IV

Amla jokes with Claudia about where she has hidden Polina's body, and the Queen, fearing for her life, sends Roseline and Genevieve to accompany Amla to England with a sealed letter to the English Queen requesting that Amla be executed immediately.

Unhinged by grief at Polina's death, Orpheus wanders Elsinore. Laetitia arrives back from France, enraged by her mother's death and her brother's madness. Claudia convinces Laetitia that Amla is solely responsible, but a letter soon arrives indicating that Amla has returned to Denmark, foiling Claudia's plan. Claudia switches tactics, proposing a fencing match between Laetitia and Amla to settle their differences. Laetitia will be given a poison-tipped foil, and, if that fails, Claudia will offer Amla poisoned wine as a congratulation. Gerald interrupts to report that Orpheus has drowned, though it is unclear whether it was suicide or an accident caused by his madness.

Act V

Hanna has received a letter from Amla, explaining that the princess escaped by negotiating with pirates who attempted to attack her England-bound ship, and the friends reunite offstage. Two gravediggers discuss Orpheus’s apparent suicide while digging his grave. Amla arrives with Hanna and banters with one of the gravediggers, who unearths the skull of a jester from Amla's childhood, Yora. Amla picks up the skull, saying "alas, poor Yora" as she contemplates mortality. Orpheus's funeral procession approaches, led by Laetitia. Amla and Hanna initially hide, but when Amla realizes that Orpheus is the one being buried, she reveals herself, proclaiming her love for him. Laetitia and Amla fight by Orpheus's graveside, but the brawl is broken up.

When faced with a situation that makes you anxious, you don’t just think you’re going to die - you KNOW you’re going to die. Like, as much as a human being can know something, you KNOW that you’re facing imminent death. You take it as a given, and your body and emotions respond accordingly. Every time I get on a plane, I consciously say goodbye to my life. I look at the world around me as if I’m looking at the face of a loved one who I will never see again. It makes me so deeply sad. I grieve the imminent loss of everything I know.  When I get on the plane anyway, it’s not because I have convinced myself that I’ll survive - it’s because I am actively mourning the fact that I won’t. The fact that I’ve survived every time before doesn’t make it easier. I know these things in my head, but this anxiety doesn’t live in my head. This is a prehistoric fear. It served a purpose once, to override the head and go straight to the body, straight to the sweat glands and the heart muscle and the gut. The sympathetic nervous system takes over when the brain can’t be trusted. 

Unfortunately from personal experience. Here's how it goes...

So first, you'll get a message that seems to come from someone you're friends with on Facebook. "Hey," they'll say. "Can I bug you for a second?" (Or something along those lines.)

You ask what's up. "I'm doing some research and I need an article from Google scholar, but it won't let me use my Google account log in. Could I possibly borrow yours?"

Depending how much you trust the person this appears to come from, and how likely a request this would be from them, you'll either ignore this message (good choice), or call them personally to ask more about this weird message (also good choice), or you'll just say "Sure!" (unfortunately the wrong choice, but also the one I made, and the one a lot of people make who just want to help their friend out of a tight spot.)

The person posing as your friend thanks you a bunch. A few minutes later they write back, saying "Oh darn, it's asking me for a code that they sent to your phone. Did you get one?" You check and sure enough you did get a code, so you send it to them.

If you're like me, this might be when you suddenly remember all the times you've been warned not to give out passwords online. So to put your mind at ease, you ask a personal question - something you're pretty sure only you and the friend would know. And a couple minutes later they answer it correctly! Seems pretty legit!

A bit later, they write one more time. "Omg sorry, now it's asking me a security question. Who's your favourite writer? Lol," they add, "that's probably a long list!"

So you suggest an answer to them. And then you don't hear back. And then...

You start getting messages from your other friends, and this time it's really them writing to you. "Was your account hacked?" they ask. "Is this really you?" You get a call from a concerned friend looking out for you, suspecting it wasn't you who sent them that message.

You also get follow-up messages from other friends. "Did you get the article you were looking for from Google scholar?" "Did my login work?" "What's your project about?" When you scroll up in these messages, you find the entire rest of your conversation history deleted.

You realize you've been hacked. You google what to do. Gmail luckily has an easy-to-navigate security checklist for when you think your account has been accessed by someone else. It shows you the list of devices that have logged on to your email recently. Your phone and your laptop are listed -- and so is an unknown Macbook near Toronto. Gmail gives you an option to flag this computer and automatically log it off your account. (You're really, really glad the hacker didn't try to do this to log you out of your own account. Small blessings.)

It shows you what else they've accessed -- Your google drive photo albums. Your email. Your facebook. It prompts you to change your password. (Actually, you read later, it would have been better to change your password before logging them off, since the log off could alert them that you know about the hack, and they could quickly change your passwords to prevent you from taking any next steps.)

You start messaging friends on Facebook to warn them what happened. There's not much rhyme or reason for who got the message from your account and who didn't. You post a quick general warning on Facebook. And then when you get home, you write out a long, public, detailed description of what happened.