act I, scene II
Claudius: My dreams were shattered years ago.
Hamlet: How many years ago?
Claudius: How old are you again?

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@quiverwithfear
act I, scene II
Claudius: My dreams were shattered years ago.
Hamlet: How many years ago?
Claudius: How old are you again?

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Mahershala Ali photographed by Kurt Iswarienko
.
Zira & Scar
āHeās busy. Lounging around and talking isnāt how Kovu works. He makes things happen, as Iām sure you remember. Heāll be here soon enough. He has business to take care of, allies to secureā¦All the things you arenāt doing.āĀ
āWell fix it. Itās bad enough worrying about that Grimhilde, and that disgusting little creature from Wonderland. Well, not so littleāāoh? And what is that?ā
āAnd what allies are these, exactly? Some runts from the Outlands? Sounds very promising.āĀ
āWhy on earth would anyone worry about Grimhilde? She has been one of the few who hasnāt marched up here expecting me to hand them a piece of land -- What do you mean āwhat is that?!āā Scar took a breath, an attempt to tame his frustration.
āYour incompetent son, he never finished the job, did he? I think Iām beginning to lose count of how many times Iāve had to bring this to your attention. And what have you been doing in the Outlands, mhm? I do find it hard to believe you have been letting your dearest KovuĀ do all the work. Now, who should I really be concerned about as a result of your actions?ā
Zira & Scar
āNevermind where Kovu is. The boy is busy training for what is soon to come. I can handle his negotiations here for the time being.ā
āWhat you should be worried about is Hades. I hear he thinks heās getting Olympus, Atlantica, AND some say even Agrabah. Why havenāt you dealt with him yet?āĀ
āIs that so? Why Zira, if I do remember correctly the last time we spoke you could not wait for the chance to bring him here. What an utter disappointment this is.ā`
āMhm ...Well, he shanāt be getting any if thatās what he has been spreading. I will deal with his shenanigans eventually, perhaps talk to that little Nutmeg of his. In the meantime, I do believe we have more important matters to discuss?ā

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It was the first time Merida had really left the house since the funeral, the first time sheād dressed properly and tamed her hair and overall looked like a human. Her parents and her brothers had been trying to help her for weeks, and she knew that they meant well, but on her way to dinner the previous night she had overheard the word āmarriageā in a conversation between her parents and immediately retreated to her room, burning with rage and sadness and regret. She probably could have spent another while grieving in her room, if she had wanted, but she had decided she was done with that, and was determined to start getting out again, start living, start making her own decisions. It was a good plan, in theory, but it did involve one thing she hadnāt quite gotten yet; closure. It was why she had made an urgent appointment with Simbaās uncle Scar for the next day, and she found herself being shown to his office by an assistant, ill at ease in the Kiburi house now that there was a ghost hanging over it. Pushing her hair out of her face, she let the assistant venture into the office to announce her before following them in, her discomfort only increasing as the door snapped shut behind her, and she made no attempt to sit down.
āScar, um ā sir? Hi,ā She took a deep breath, not quite sure how to address him. Sheād never really spoken to him before, after all, only really knew him through Simbaās stories, and what did they tell her? He was dour, he was sarcastic, and Simba delighted in laughing at him. That wasnāt exactly helping her out right now. āI know this was short notice, anā Iām sorry, buā⦠I just have a question, just⦠for closure. Thereās no way⦠no-one made a mistake, did they?ā She had been staring at the floor since she walked in, but looked up to meet his eyes now, trying to hide the crack in her voice. āHis face was so⦠it was definitely him? Noā someone else who just looks like him? Youāre sure?ā
When Scar noticed the name on the list left on his desk, it took a moment for him to realise his eyes did not in fact deceive him. Merida? What the hell did she want? Her name was squeezed in between those of authority, of course the assistant felt there was some sort of need to give this princess priority over them. Suddenly it dawned on him, the frizzy redhead was of course Simba's little play thing before his... Passing. Now he began to panic, although he did well to disguise this, the thought of her knowing something she shouldn't, dug into his brain as he scanned through the rest of the names. His brainless trio of assassins were reckless, it honestly wouldn't surprise him if one of those nosy little royals had heard a rumour that Simba was living feral in the jungles. He had little faith in the hyenas, but God, he hoped that they had disposed of the boy by now. But then again, his nephew did mention that she was pregnant, so maybe that's what she wanted to bother him about.
The clock stuck closer to the arrangement, and as he bid farewell to one of his brother's business associates, he called in his assistant. A fresh face, since Sarabi felt it would be wise for Zazu to take compassionate leave. It was a shame, in Scar's opinion. The thought of the flapping man having some sort of emotional breakdown would be something to help lighten his mood, especially when his next appointment was with the DunBroch girl.
The assistant was new to his job, and Scar knew his pronunciation of Dunbrotch would usually grate the princess, as it would her mother. Possibly one of the few things the two women had in common. Scar couldn't help the slight curve in his lip at the name slaughter, but let it slip away as she entered. He sat up, his glare was cold as he expected her to cause some type of havoc.
As she spoke those words, Scar exhaled deeply, and shook his head, it was a slight relief hearing how sad her voice was, it was a reassurance that she didn't know anything. "A mistake? Merida, do you really believe Sarabi would not be able to recognise her own son? That poor woman has been through so much, but I can assure you; it was him."
Her attempt to meet his eyes raised a smile from him, although not in the slightest way sincere, at least she knew how to discourse with her superiors. "Now I know this must be hard for you to muster in your current state, but he is dead, and in order to start moving on with your life, you must learn to accept that."
spanner in the worksĀ | closed
The day had gone exceptionally well. Although there were one or two hiccups, everything seemed to run as smoothly as was planned. Scar chose to steer clear of the grieving guests at the reception afterwards. Mufasa was still alive, and so the plan was yet to be completed. He had already received enough condolences for the loss of his nephew to last him a lifetime that day. Plus, Simba wasn't really dead, was he? And that gut wrenching feeling that the little runt could burst through those doors at any moment made him not want to stand there and listen to his peers talk about what a great guy he was. He had to do something about that, otherwise it really was another spanner in the works. He was the one who told the boy to leave, and never return. He could easily put the blame on him if he were to come back. Scar marched down to his office and slammed the door shut, waiting a few moments before pulling out his phone and calling Shenzi.
He drove out to the Outlands later that evening, after arranging a time and meeting place with the three incompetent employees of his. The snow seemed to have died down a bit by now, although the roads were still quite slippery and there seemed to be a fair bit of traffic. Perhaps he should have hired a driver, since there was no way he would use Zazu for this particular journey. The sound of sirens and gunshots helped guarantee he was getting closer to the shadowlands. He lowered his front lights and drove towards the violent geysers, stopping outside their usual hideout. He could hear them joking around and cackling from the outside, he made his way into the cave, only for the echo of their piercing laughter to grow louder. The pack were swigging bottles and seemed to be celebratory, like most of the Outlands at this time. Banzai was unfortunately currently putting on his best impression of Scar, prancing around the small space. Scar snarled as he watched and the other three broke into tears of laughter, before Shenzi noticed him stood there, quickly prodding Ed to stop and gesturing a cut throat to Banzai.
Banzai's eyes widened as he attempted to laugh it off. "Hahahaha, Scar! H-Hey boss, what are ya doin' here? We was jus' talkin' 'bout ya!" Scar couldn't help but roll his eyes, he knew precisely what they were up to. Charming.
"Yeah, shouldn't ya be grievin' for Siiimba or somethin'?" Shenzi asked, exaggerating the name, in a deep tone similar to the one Mufasa would use when addressing the boy. The three of them laughed.
Scar stood straight, clearing his throat to grab their short attention again. "I would, but you fools failed to kill him." The three all looked at eachother -- except Ed, who stared dumbly at the wall. "Heh... Sure we did! We found the lil' rat runnin' from a bar fight when ya told us to, we followed 'im to the waters an' smacked the dumbo in th' head! He didn't know what hit 'im!" At this point, Ed was already rolling on the floor in laughter, until he was rudely whacked in the arm by his sister, who continued. "Yeah, we did everythin' ya told us to. Once he was out cold -- we'll spare ya the gory details but we did what ya asked, boss."
Scar could feel his jaw clench.
"You knew it wasn't him, didn't you?"
The siblings looked at eachother, then to their superior. "Hahaha.. Wh--What are ya talkin' 'bout?! Jus' 'cause we disfigured the bast'rd?!? Ya think we knew it weren't 'im! HAHAH--" Although Banzai was technically much stronger than Scar ever was, the man still managed to grab him bu the throat. He roared as he turned to the other two.
Ā "IDIOTS! You thought you could fool me?!" Scar dropped him, letting Banzai grasp at his neck. "You thought you could fool the kingdom?! Do you have ANY idea what will happen if they FOUND THE BOY ALIVE?!"
They collectively nodded and took a step back in slight fear.
"Then why was it not HIM?!"
Banzai interrupted as soon as he could speak again. "Y-You were the one goin' 'round tellin' ev'ryone he was dead, we was jus' tryna--" He stopped as Shenzi told him to shutup through gritted teeth. Scar couldn't believe what he was hearing, nor did he expect such an imbecile to dare speak back to him like that. He knew he should have let Valentina deal with them when he had the chance, but no, he deemed they could be useful to him. What a mistake that turned out to be. Scar glared at them, before letting out a sigh. "You will find him. You will kill him. You will burn the body until there is notĀ a trace of him left. Do I make myself clear?"
They all nodded.
"Good. Dinner's in the trunk."
end of an era | closed
"S-Sir, the coroner is on the line..." The man stood there, shaking. Sweating. A nervous wreck as he appeared through Scar's office door. Scar peered up, noticing Zazu's panicked state. It wasn't unusual for the assistant to be like this whenever he approached his superior, but this was disconcertingly more so than usual. Scar was reclined, stretched out with his legs resting on the desk. He glared at Zazu. "Is that all?" The man nodded, his eyes beginning to well up with tears. "Well, then. Get out." He waited for him to scurry away before sitting up and pressing down on the beeper of the telephone. "Kiburi speaking."
The man was professional. He had to make these sorts of phonecalls a fair few times a day. He was far more together than Zazu's blubbering mess. "Ah." Scar took a moment, a breather perhaps, to gather his thoughts. They had found a young man's body by a stream in the Outlands. The Outlands, of all places. He was pleased this was a telephone call, an easy way to disguise a cackle with a whimper. "I see." He paused. "And does Sarabi know?"
"Thank you."
One place Scar definitely didn't have on his list to visit today was the local mortuary, but here he was, arm around a hysterical Sarabi's shoulder. The lighting was daunting, he felt like he had stepped into one of Hades' seedy properties. Scar had to continue his best performance, the one where he would act like he cared. He wanted this to be over and done with as soon as it could be possible. Identify a body. Comfort the grieving mother. Give the reporter's a few statements. Hold a funeral. That's it. Be done with it. Be King.
"This way, please." A woman dressed head to toe in white ushered them into a separate room.
The mortician questioned whether the boy in front was the prince or not. Scar turned to Sarabi, who couldn't even look as she clutched her own face, dampened by tears. Scar looked back to the lifeless body lying on the slather in front. The face had been mauled beyond recognition, there were chunks missing, like some sort of animal tried to tear off the flesh for their evening meal. The wounds had blackened, the skin had turned a dull shade of grey and the chest was bloated. Poor boy, Scar thought, as he stared on -- he could hear his sister in-law's piercing scream from behind, as the mortician scrambled to help. Scar pulled the white sheet back over the body.
It wasn't him.
He could feel his fist clench as he let go of the sheet. A true sickening feeling built up in his stomach. "It's him." He announced, and the screaming got louder as Sarabi fell to the floor. He turned back to the two women, head held down as he remained to stare at the ground. It wasn't him, that measly good for nothing pack had failed him once again. He should have killed the boy himself.
The morticians gave their condolences to the family as they left, Sarabi was a mess, as would be expected. Scar spoke to the coroner, who provided him with information for the royal funeral. Scar requested two changes when he spoke to the director, however. That it would be on a much smaller scale and that the body could be cremated. The undertaker pursed his lips and breathed in through his teeth. He said they would have to confirm this with the mother of the deceased. Scar knew she was in no fit state to do so. He looked at the clock behind the man and turned his glare to meet his eyes. "Do excuse me, but I have a press conference to get to. We will have to continue this later, once you have consulted the grieving mother." The bitter tone in his voice made the man slam his directory shut on the counter.
After a brief disturbance from Nala, there was another knock at his door that evening. Again, it was Zazu, still in the same distraught shape as before. "S-Sir..." He broke off, stood in the doorway once more. He couldn't seem to speak. Scar glanced up from the mountain of paperwork he had to get through for the funeral arrangements, arching his eyebrow. "What is it, Zazu?" Ā His tone was frustrated, he sat up and crossed his arms over his chest.
"The -- The hospital called." The imbecile started to cry. "Th-they d-don't think Mufasa will make it through a-another week." He sniffed, and attempted to look at Scar, although there seemed to be a hint of anger in his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry." Scar feigned upset, holding his hand over his mouth. "Oh. How awful..." Zazu never let go of his stare. Scar tried not to laugh, perhaps the birdbrain wasn't as stupid as he thought. He couldn't wait until he was under his full command. This was it, if Mufasa didn't pull through this meant he could finally rule the Pridelands. He stood himself from his desk, and slipped on the jacket hung over the chair with a smirk. "Well then." He said, towering over the other man as he walked past.
"I suppose I better go bid him farewell."
to: asshole ā
kovu: hy scar ur a pisce of shit yknow that???
kovu: i dont env kno w if this si your actu al number
kovu: somE dud e gave i t to me bt like cn i fuc kin trust an yone ni this shithole
kovu: wh yd o you pre tend w edon t exi st
kovu: fck nevrmind dnt bohter ansring yull just be fu ll o f shit nywy
asshole: I take it you are out celebrating.
ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦.
ā¦..I donāt, I donāt understand. What do youā¦
Nala, leave... Now.Ā

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Uhhhh that was a little morbid, even for you. But good job on the delivery? I guess.
Enough weird joking. Hey I meant to ask you. Have you met with Mufasaās doctors today? Sarabi was supposed to but I think she got distracted, so if you canāt make it I can after this interview itās fine.Ā
I mean it, Nala.Ā
They found his body in the Outlands, we... Sarabi and I, had to go and identify the body. He's dead.
Now, I'm terribly sorry but you must leave, I will have Zazu escort you out. Ā You and I will have to discuss those other matters after the... funeral.
Hey! Whatās up? Wait one sec, can you shut the door behind you? Zazu keeps trying to come in here-says itās an āutmost emergencyā but everythingās a big deal with him. And I need to get ready for this interview. Iāve been moping around for too long you know? Everythingās going to be fine. I was talking to the police just yesterday and they seem to have some good leads on Simba.
So whatās going onā¦.Hey are you okay?
Nala.
Simba's dead.
to: scarā“
Valentina: MY TEA IS TOO HOT!!!!! SCAR! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT. WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU I'LL!!! I'LL!!!! I'LL DO SOMETHING!!!!
Scar: Now really, these are starting to get plain ridiculous.
to: scarā“
Valentina: YOU DARE MAKE PLANS WITHOUT ME???? I'M COMING OVER. RIGHT NOW.
Scar: I'd rather you didn't.
so now run || simba & scar
"He wanted you by his side, but⦠you werenāt there, were you?"
The flood of relief Simba had felt upon seeing his uncle was immediately replaced with an overwhelming sense of guilt. Scar was right, Simba hadnāt been there. He was never there anymore. He was too busy pushing everyone away to worry about what they were going through, and this had to be the universeās way of punishing him for it.
When Scar pulled him into a hug, Simba buried his face in the older manās shoulder, desperate to push away the tears that he could feel forming in the corners of his eyes. Simba hadnāt cried since he was 10 years old and had broken his leg playing in an old junkyard in the Outlands. Zazu had sent for Mufasa instead of just ordering an ambulance and Simba had cried through the pain as Mufasa carried him, bridal style, into the E.R. His dad had been there when he needed them, and he couldnāt even bother to return the favor. Simba didnāt deserve to cry.
He let Scar lead him through another set of doors and into a nondescript hall, completely barren of people except for themselves. He knew Scar was talking to him, telling him something important probably, but he just couldnāt focus. All he could hear was "you werenāt there" over and over again, louder and louder each time until he was screaming it in his head. He could feel his hands shaking so he balled them into fists at his sides, blunt nails digging into his palms until the skin broke, and the pain seemed to snap something inside of him, words slipping past his lips before it could even register that it was he who said them.
"Meridaās pregnant."
Pregnant?
Scar stopped in his steps, still as can be. Pregnant. He repeated the word in his head, a deliciously sinister smirk began to creep upon his lips as he withheld a snicker. He turned to face the younger man, expression wiped with dismay.
"Simba." Scar took a step closer to him, head held high and a glare shadowing over the young man.
"What have you done?"
Scar was no idiot when it came to the goings on of the royals and their associates, although he chose not to care nor take any interest in whatever the youngest generation were up to. They all seemed so delinquent to him, and like they were already searching for a way to be killed with their meticulous behaviour. Simba and Merida, however, the two could not be more blindingly obvious to him if they tried.
Now, Simba had gone and knocked up the DunBroch girl and how it couldn't be even more glorious. Of course, only if the unborn was a daughter, that is. Otherwise that is just yet another spanner is the works. But that problem could be resolved in ten years if Zira weren't to hear about it. Nevertheless, he continued.
"You were meant to be king. Your father trained you, Simba. He did everything for you to make you the greatest monarch Disney had ever seen. And yet..." Scar spoke with a snarl from his throat, he could tell there was aggression in his tone. Although it was part of the plan, Scar knew he couldn't blow this, as much as anger could be eligible with grief, he had to be rid of Simba, and a child on the way would surely only be a mean for him to stay. The boy had to be gone if Scar were to ever become king. He glanced to the ground and shook his head with a face of sorrow.
"... You did this to him." Scar said, in an attempt to belittle him, the look of pure hatred held within his eyes. "You betrayed him."
Scar turned his back on him briefly with a hidden sneer as he wiped his temple. "-- And how you expect to bring a child up into this world is, well, simply beyond me." He turned back to face him. "What will your mother think?"
As he did earlier, Scar pressed a heavy hand on Simba's shoulder, and looked him in the eye.
"Leave now, Simba. Run. Run away and never return."

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He didnāt⦠he didnāt tell me anything.
What did he say, Uncle Scar? I mean, itās clearly something, right? What was it?
Really? My, I am simply flabbergasted, I must say.
...Honestly Kiara I am not quite sure I should be the one telling you. Perhaps you would be better off pestering Merida for an answer. I do have a lot of paperwork to be getting through, you know.
I just really donāt feel like it right now.
Wait⦠what did Simba say? And why would he⦠do you know something?
Why, what did he say? Oh nothing, nothing of any importance, that is. Furthermore, I am sure it wouldn't come as any news to you, Kiara. Simba must have told you weeks ago.