hold your applause

Adella’s heart swelled with pride as her husband praised her father’s hard work. For reasons nobody could know - except her dear husband - it was always extra wonderful when a human praised anything a Triton did.

Designing and building such a marvelous ship? Well, nothing was more human than that! Ha! And mer were “animals” to them. Hilarious.

“I’m sure he’s somewhere showing off his pride and joy, the eighth daughter he  never had,” Adella joked, letting out a musical little laugh as she did. Her son giggled in her arms, not sure what was funny, but if Mum was laughing then he should as well.

And at Jack’s praise of her, Adella blushed as she always did even after several years. It meant a lot to her. As a wife, and, as an actress. Jack had made his fortune in acting, after all! He knew a thing or two about it!

“They are the most excited hummingbirds,” she assured him, grinning wide. “They are as anxious to touch America’s shores as I am, and ready to make that hemisphere adore me as well.”

When Jack had found out his wife was a mermaid, well--he’d been frightened for certain! At first. Mermaids were known to be cruel creatures that would drown you beneath the depths as soon as look at you. Or sing you to your death. (Though what a death that would be!)

Jack, however, was a man of sensibility. So he had found himself intrigued and let his brand new blushing bride explain. And explain she did! By the end, he’d been enthralled! Found it marvelous! Enjoyed the glimmer of her scales. 

How beautiful she was! 

He forgot, honestly, half the time--after over half a decade of marriage. They were no different than normal humans. He had been concerned about the children becoming some half-deformed muddied monsters but--

His children were wonderful and perfect.

“I cannot believe I am saying it,” Adella began, laughing at herself for how stupid she was to sound. “But I envy you for having been before. I’m filled with such- like hummingbirds in my chest, with excitement.”

She wanted to just! Punctuate every sentence with exclaimation points! But she kept herself in check. She could be excited in their room, when the children couldn’t run anywhere but in circles As her husband mentioned how beautiful the ship was, Adella hummed, content as she watched him treat the boat with the same childlike wonder as when he’d first read of it.

That was the think about Jack. Nearly sixty, yet, he found so much joy in even giant hunks of metal.

“My father and his men have outdone themselves, surely.” Adella agreed, her heart filling with quite a bit of pride.

“It’s a feat! A marvel, even! Where is your father, anyway?” Jack asked, swiveling his head around as if he could see the indomitable JEFF Trition somewhere about. Of course, he couldn’t. He was probably up somehwere near the Captain’s deck, keeping an eye on everything. They would see him later, at dinner, perhaps.

Jack wasn’t too worried about it, though he was awfully fond of his father in law. Even if they were contemporaries of a sort.

Adella smiled lovingly at her husband and their daughter. It always warmed her. Every time Jack spoke to little Ada, Adella was more and more sure that she’d made the right decision in marrying him, even with some of her relatives and friends urging her not to.

He’s over twenty years your senior! His divorce! 

It was lucky that the Tritons were no ordinary family, and that JEFF Triton was much more concerned with his girls’ happiness than with society’s opinions. As long as the Big Secret was kept safe.

“I know you’ve got an eye on them, we’ll let Ada be a big girl.” And anyway, she had her eyes on the children, too. “What is the first thing you are looking forward to in America?”

What was Jack looking forward to in America?

Certainly not running into Hecate. Not that he would say that, but it was still true. The vile woman lived in New York. Or, she had the last time he’d heard of her. And when you were divorced in 1912, you were sure to hear about your ex-wife from anyone you spoke to. 

It was inevitable, probably, but, well--Jack had a family. A wife and children. Something Hecate never gave to him. She’d be the jealous cat.

Maybe he was looking forward to seeing Hecate.

Not that he would say it. Jack was smarter than that.

@jack-thepumpkinking

Adella adjusted Alex in her arms as Ada led Archie along. As among the oldest of seven sisters, and now a mother, Adella was a woman accustomed to masking her anxiety and doubts. Those anxieties, however, were never as real as they were now.

This trip on the cruise ship Titanic was not just a fun trip for her, as it was for the rest of her family. When they got to New York, Adella Schildkraut, her husband, and their three children would not be returning to England. As she’d already taken Western Europe by storm as an actress and singer, she was now going to to tackle North America.

How fortunate she had a husband who let her live as Adella the person, not as Mrs. Schildkraut the incubator for heirs. Such a man was rare in this world.

(Though Adella would happily bear more children; wanted to, in fact, but perhaps not quite as many as her mother.)

“Ada, do hold tight to your brother’s hand,” she gently reminded her bright, independent daughter. For a child not yet five, she sure liked to act as if she were old enough for any sort of responsibility.

It had been a while -- and what better reason to be off than to celebrate a wedding! And his wife’s success! Nothing, if you asked him. 

He was more or less oblivious of his wife’s anxieties, all truths told, he was far too eager for this adventure. And the children were quite a distraction. As it was, he had a hand on Ada’s head as they made their way through the throngs of people. His other hand held their room assignment. 

“Would you rather me carry him?” Jack asked, looking from their toddler, well, toddling along, to his wife. “Ada’s got him, though, don’t you, love?”

It had been hard for Duchess since Perdita had left. She’d flown in Marguerite, again, to help with day to day work that didn’t involve spending time at Town Hall at her desk for hours on end. Why she’d thought being on the Board wouldn’t be difficult she couldn’t understand. Honestly, her motivation came mostly from Phoebus’ belief in her. In his gentle encouragement. And it was that which kept her going. Phoebus had charged her with keeping the best interests of Swynlake a priority and she was going to do her damndest to make sure the town was safe.

But doing that meant that her business went to the wayside and took a backseat to her Board member duties. Or it would have if she hadn’t gotten quite the message from one Jack Skellington. She’d worked with him once or twice before for different galas and while he was eccentric there was something about him that Duchess just lived for.

Which made it very easy to set a date and time for him to meet with her.

She was actually working on her next line, when his voice sounded from the doorway of her work room. She turned abruptly, giving him one of her warmest smiles as she held her arms out to him.

“Darling, I had no idea you were in Swynlake,” she gave each cheek un bise before pulling away from him. “Now, before we start, look. What do you think? Pastel or sharp colours?”

Jack bent down, accepting the kisses readily, with a smile on his face. Ah, he loved the French. So classy, so romantic. Duchess smelt like expensive perfume and shampoo--he had missed such a thing. His first wife had been French and it was one of his favourite parts of Europe. Los Angeles had a severely lacking French community.

And Duchess was charming on her own too, for sure. Jack always liked talented people. Duchess was exceedingly so. He had been sorry to hear about her scandal. Such a shame. It was good to see her rallying.

(Jack hoped that one day, the same could be said about him.)

Louie couldn’t help but shrug his shoulders. Sure he’d seen the wild Romeo and Juliet. The one with Leo DiCaprio at his finest and all. Yeah he’d seen that movie. It was alright. Louie didn’t hate the concept entirely at least. “Yeah…the one where DiCaprio cries in a hawaiian shirt? I’ve seen it.”

He wouldn’t mind being a star like Leonardo DiCaprio. of course not. The guy was rich and successful and everything. Did that mean he’d enjoy playing Romeo? Well…not really. “Fun or not, Romeo and Juliet are like…the lamest. Who falls in love in three days and decides to just die? That’s crazy!”

“Ah, but isn’t love always crazy?” Jack said, sighing wistfully. 

It had been for him. Both his marriages were a whirlwind of romance, the highs and lows equally intense. Still, Jack believed in love and he loved all those classic romances. There was nothing quite like them, the modern just didn’t do the same justice to something like love.

But, well, Jack also knew children often did not appreciate such things.

Louie wished he was on a show like the office. If he were, he would’ve raised his eyebrows and stared in disbelief at the camera. Instead, all he could do was wrinkle his nose to show his real feelings on the matter.

“Classic…also meaning ancient, overdone, not a real challenge. Boring to our audience.” Louie refused to perform in something that his friends back home in Duckberg wouldn’t even have heard of. No matter how fun the concept of murder in a play might be. “I take my murder plays like a fine wine, old but not disturbingly so,” Louie informed him, though he was well aware that what he was saying was complete nonsense. He’d never even had wine before.

“I’m just saying instead of old and unknown, go with something people like! Heathers has murder and mayhem in a high school setting. Ugh if I were a girl I’d be a great Veronica. Though I can settle for JD. Or there’s the french one Les Mis. Everyone dies there. Or if we go away from the musical thing, though they’re super fun… The Real Inspector Hound, old but not ancient like Shakespeare. Or I don’t know, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. As a fun sort of re-telling of a sort of interesting Shakespeare story.”

What a clever chap young Mr. Mallard was. Jack was not at all put off by his suggestions, even if they were unacceptable suggestions. There was no way he would put on something like Les Misérables for a spring showcase secondary school production, but it did speak to his excellent taste. (Though, the Heathers was much less refine of a palette, but still a smashing good time, Jack would say. He did quite like the original cult classic, though he was not sure about the musical version.)

“Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead certainly has its merits, I do like a revival of the classics. Though, Shakespeare is timeless for a reason, Mr. Mallard. Have you not seen Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet? I highly recommend it for you, I think you would enjoy it.” 

Mirium smiled a bit at his comment a tad…unsure what to take from that. I mean, sure, they weren’t all professionals like MR. SKELLINGTON!! but it wasn’t like they would be awful.

But she was too polite to day that, not unless he was rude to her or about her friends, but she didnt know if she could say something like that TO A TEACHER!! So, instead, she just gave a cute little shrug and tucked her hair over her shoulder.

“I’m….glad to have helped, Mr. Skellington. How…how are you liking… being…home?”

Originally posted by stydixa

Her words popped up almost hesitantly and she felt her brow crinkling up as she looked at him. She didn’t know HOW he liked being home but she hoped it was…nice for him. She loved Swynlake even if it was a bit kooky sometimes.

How was he enjoying be home?

Why, he hated it. 

Swynlake held nothing but bad memories for Jack. Well, he supposed it was where he fostered his love and affinity for magic. Without his “authentic” experience from Swynlake, he may not have gotten the job playing Hemlock, and maybe the rest would not have happened.

So, he was grateful for Swynlake, of course.

But--he hated it. It was small and slow and quaint. There was no grandness to it. The newest building was the science center at the university and that had been erected in 2003. 

Ugh.

Still, he smiled brightly.

“Oh, I love it. Simply love it. It hasn’t changed a bit.” 

Amelia nodded and smiled. She liked this man so far. She’d never met a famous person before. There were always horror stories about them being quite full of themselves and rude to ordinary people, but he didn’t seem to be that way. 

“You know, if you want mayhem, you should put on Chamber Music. That’s a very chaotic one full of ridiculousness and fun. I watched it with my father one time and he said it was far too absurd. That’s how you know it was good.” 

“You’re full of excellent suggestions then, aren’t you?” Jack exclaimed at her next idea. And he meant it to. There weren’t many people in this town, he assumed that could name more than five plays and those would be the cliche, obvious ones--Romeo and Juliet, Much Ado About Nothing, Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Tempest, Macbeth.

All the obvious ones. 

But, alas! Here she was, spouting off about Arthur Kopit’s Chamber Music.

“Oh, that is delightful, isn’t it? Perhaps would be leaving the boys out of it, but they’ve had their run of the theatre for long enough, don’t you think?”

“Oh!” said Mel. She blinked those wide eyes of hers. For a moment she wanted to look like a fan recognizing one of her favourite celebrities. Get that little star-studded heart of Jack Skellington’s beating. 

“I remember seeing the sequel to one of those movies in the news. Wasn’t there some horrible controversy about a Mundus playing a Magick character and he refused to apologize? I forget– do you remember what happened to him…?”

Jack’s smile froze in place. It was perfectly fine, of course, no one could even tell that he had vacated the premises for a few moments, but still, he felt the shock of her words hit him square in the chest. At least she seemed ignorant about the whole fiasco. Didn’t surprise him. That was why he’d come home to Swynlake after all, wasn’t it?

People here didn’t watch telly. They certainly didn’t engage in Stan Twitter(TM).

This was--fine.

Perfectly recoverable.

“No, no--I don’t think...I don’t remember hearing anything about that. It was a few years ago...” Wasn’t completely a lie. Jack had apologized, hadn’t he? He’d apologized for disappointing people--disappointing his fans. (Though, he found them all to be hypocrites. They had liked his work just fine when it had first came out. Magicks had still existed then.) 

He smiled a little wider, friendlier then.

“I’m quite sorry, but I will be late for an appointment! Thank you for stopping to chat, it has been a pleasure. So sorry I do not have time for an autograph, but I am sure we will see each other around!”

“Hello, hi.” Freddie said, always happy to stop and talk to an attractive older man in a turtleneck sweater. “I do, it’s completely overdone. I’m partial to musicals myself, and I think it’s always bold for secondary schools to either do something more contemporary, or to really go back to the classics. I mean, my two favourites are Hello, Dolly! and Rent, but I suppose it’s all about how much uproar you’d get from the parents, and the talent of the cohort you have.” Freddie said, shrugging.

“If you need any help though, I was a impressive Marius in my uni AmDram society’s production of Les Mis. And I’ve always wanted to try directing.” He said with a quick, piercing glance up from under his eyelashes. It was a look he knew captured attention, he only hoped it had the intended effect. 

“That is very kind of you, but I tend to find the directorial chair fits just one, much like a throne,” he said with his very best charming smile, so that it did not come off as an insult. Though, really it was not. He did simply truly believe that one creative vision was better than multiple.

“As for a musicale, I do not know how I feel asking the students to sing and dance--I would rather do an engaging play than attempt a musicale where the children are woefully unprepared.”

Now, perhaps Mel would regret engaging with the man. She could barely stand a regular Mundus– she imagined the acting kind would be even worse. They very rarely produced any sort of usable reagent, you know, because they were constantly performing. If a reagent was the echo of the real thing, than the performance of a reagent was the echo of an echo– not enough to wrap your hand around. 

But she was in a mood. One could not say what mood it was, but she looked at the man like a cat looked at a mouse, and when she smiled at him, it was, briefly, a malicious one. 

Do not play with your food, Melaenis, she could hear her mother now. 

But it was so fun. 

“Oh? Really? Now isn’t that fun. Anything I would have seen?” asked Mel, still performing her own part of wide-eyed ignoramus. 

Right, right. Jack had to remind himself that he did look different now than he did before, when he’d been in his prime during Hemlock Hill. Not to mention, his subsequent movie roles. Even if People magazine had still called him “devilishly handsome” and people online referred to him as “daddy” (which he thought was delightfully amusing.) 

But, for people who were not as big of fans, he could see how it would be hard to recognize him.

“Well, I have been in several blockbusters released worldwide. My show, Hemlock Hill, was popular in Britain, as well as America. Independence Day of the Dead and the Jurassic Park franchises are what I am most notable for, but I have been in a great many things over my long career.” 

Sofia felt vaguely like she had just been hit by a truck, blinking owlishly down at the man sitting at a table in the Lucky Cat Cafe. She had his ordered drink in one hand on a small tray, and usually during this part of her interactions with customers, she’d smile, deliver their order, maybe stick around for a moment to make a brief joke or answer a question, then move along on her merry way. 

This gentleman had jumped about three pages ahead in the script. Her look of shock was more so regarding the fact that he seemed to not pause for breath during his spiel more than anything.

But Sofia was nothing if not adaptable, and she gave him a smile as she set down his drink. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t recognize that one,” she admitted, holding her tray in front of her hips as she cocked her head to the side curiously. “What’s it about?”

Ah, yes--the face of shock at recognizing a celebrity. Jack was rather used to it, but that did not mean it did not exhaust him from time to time. Yes, it was nice to be acknowledged for your legacy and hard work, but sometimes, he appreciated living in obscurity, just like any Average Jack. 

(The irony of having introduced himself the way he had was lost on Jack here.)

Instead, he put a hand to his chest, and then reached out with that same hand to grab the girl’s. (His other hand was holding his tall, half-caff, soy latte.) 

“My dear girl,” he said, very seriously, “it is an American classic about the Brewster family, descended from the Mayflower settlers, but now composed of insane homicidal maniacs.”