#nurcan

The world grew stranger by the day, more dark and bleak than Veseniya could have guessed it might be during her days in Ankhuria or those after she endured through a century in the Arches. Kossith staked their claim in Aventia, strange and brutish seeming creatures who Veseniya judged to be lacking in empathy: which really ought to say something. Though they seemed to be the only faction confident in their ability to combat the Blight and the Dark One, they did so through subjugation and the complete and total disregard for life. It surprised Veseniya how deeply this perturbed her, perhaps because they had taken members of the Legion or perhaps because they had dared to kidnap Celaya with whom she had only just made a pact to fight to make a better world. Veseniya knew she was not strong enough to fight such threatening beasts, so she tried to focus her attention elsewhere. Nurcan had seemed deeply invested in the gloom garden that Veseniya kept, and the strange hybrid fungi she cultivated. Quietly, she rapped her knuckles against the doorframe of the room Nurcan occupied in the keep. “I am hoping to find some assistance today,” she said in the doorframe when she had gained her fellow Legionnaire’s attention. 

Haven was a pinnacle of disruption, each of its inhabitants more frightened than the next, each throwing themselves into meaningless little tasks as if mileage could ever translate into safety. And for what? The Kossith had been painstakingly clear with their intention. Hope was a mortal invention to make the bitter tonic of reality go down more easily. Ophir was certain Haven would be crushed under the heel of the Arishok, and those foolish enough to remain in the soon-to-be annexed territory would be vanquished with them. The Vuldak only planned to stay around as long as necessary to claim his contract was complete and collect his coin. 

The Legion detractor watched the scramble, frivolous as it was fruitless. The threats of the world were closing in from all sides now–the Kossith from Aventia, the Darkspawn swarming in the south, the dying Eluvian of Avalon, and deafening silence rather than support from monarchs in between. There was only one way it was going to end, of that much Ophir was sure, but he didn’t mind profiting off watching the world burn in the meantime. As he watched others prepare for the foretold march upon Haven, he noticed an unexpected presence in the main street of Haven. He saw Nurcan before she saw him, and every fiber of his being compelled him to test her loyalty to the Legion and see if she had the conviction to attempt to kill him on sight as so many other Legionnaires would. 

“If it isn’t the Legion’s most complaisant little errand girl,” he drawled from several yards behind her, no doubt sent to the wilds to make like the good little wolves of Haven and fetch.”

Sat cross legged on a barrel at the docs Penelope took in the fresh sea air as she plucked up the courage to write this letter. She had only meet Nurcan briefly but there was something about the other that had left her with questions that couldn't be answered in the brief passing they had.

A Legionary, she had actually meet one, and she was not what she was expecting. Part of her though they were these old grizzled men at the end of the world who communicated in grunts. Nurcan hadn't communicated in grunts, nor was she a grizzled old man. What else could she be wrong about?

Nurseli İdiz, Nergis Kumbasar ve Kimya Gökçe Aytaç tarafından sahnelenen “Etekler ve Pantolonlar” günlük yaşamın içinden kesitleri mizahi bir anlatımla izleyiciye sunuyor ve kadın ve erkek ilişkilerine farklı bir bakış açısı getiriyor. Eğlenceli diyalogları ve dikkat çeken sahne performanslarıyla öne çıkan yapımın, her yaştan tiyatro izleyicisine keyifli anlar yaşatması bekleniyor. Tiyatro…