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[metemmods.insanejournal.com]

Characters: EVERYONE!
Date/Time: Yule
Location: La Theâtre Jeu Ancien
Rating: Probably nothing too bad... PG-13 at worst?
Warnings: Possibly language
Summary: The godlings give their performance!

The theatre was dark for now. Though it was a fairly good-sized audience chamber, only two figures were seated there, both in shadow. Their features could not be determined, but one seemed decidedly feminine, and the other decidedly masculine--with a certain aura of malevolence. Both watched the stage with interest, which was set to show the office of the counting house at the moment, the characters of Scrooge and Bob Cratchit already in place.

As the lights began to come up, Nigel's voice boomed over the theatre:

"Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnised it with an undoubted bargain.

The mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot -- say Saint Paul's Churchyard for instance -- literally to astonish his son's weak mind.

Scrooge never painted out Old Marley's name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names: it was all the same to him.

Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grind- stone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dogdays; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas.

External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often "came down" handsomely, and Scrooge never did.

Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks, "My dear Scrooge, how are you? When will you come to see me?" No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place, of Scrooge. Even the blind men's dogs appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts; and then would wag their tails as though they said, "No eye at all is better than an evil eye, dark master!"

But what did Scrooge care? It was the very thing he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths of life, warning all human sympathy to keep its distance, was what the knowing ones call "nuts" to Scrooge."

Comments

Re: Stave 3

[speakswithdead.insanejournal.com]

Hades signed. Halfway through this..this..he had no word for this.

Re: Stave 3

[acratophorus.insanejournal.com]

The stage was suddenly flooded with a bright red light directly over Scrooge's bed right after the clock chimed the hour. From off to the side, from the still-darkened half of the stage, came a loud and joyous cry of "WOOOOOOOO JAGERBOMBS"

Re: Stave 3

[speakswithdead.insanejournal.com]

Hades whispers to himself, "To any gods that care, please give me the strength not to wring this fool's neck before all this is over."

Hades takes a composing breath and heads for Dionysus.

Re: Stave 3

[acratophorus.insanejournal.com]

The lights came up on the stage, revealing Dionysus dressed in a robe the color of a lush forest, hanging loosely enough on him that his chest was bare. He sat surrounded by an enormous pile of food--roast turkeys and pigs, massive bowls of hot stew and soup, mounds of apples, pears, oranges, and cakes, all of them festooned with ribbons of holly and mistletoe. Around Dionysus' bare feet was a huge collection of liquor bottles, and right at his elbow was a huge silver punchbowl filled with steaming spiced wine.
He poured himself a cup (and snuck a healthy shot of brandy into it), and turned to Hades with a wide ruddy grin. "Scrooge! Come in! Come in and know me better, dude! ...Man. Dude-man."

Re: Stave 3

[speakswithdead.insanejournal.com]

Steady, Ian. Steady. Frankly he ignores the lavish trappings. This whole enterprise was becoming more tedious by the minute, and his professionalism was starting to leave him. "You are the Second Spirit, then?"

Re: Stave 3

[acratophorus.insanejournal.com]

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," he intoned. "Touch my robe, and we shall be on our way."

Re: Stave 3

[speakswithdead.insanejournal.com]

There was the whole mortal line, but Hades was rapidly losing his good humor. He simply went up t Dionysus and took the cloth in hand.

Re: Stave 3

[acratophorus.insanejournal.com]

As he touched the robe, the lights came up across the stage on the city streets of London, filled with the noise of the inhabitants celebrating a merry Christmas morning.
For his part, Dionysus could sense very well Hades' increasing irritation from just being in the same room as him, never mind being forced to actually stand next to him. And so, Dionysus was completely unable to resist milking it, showing off to the unseen audience as he moved through the city streets towards Bob Cratchit's house with a great show of jollity and ho-ho-ho-ing.
He was still carrying his torch, which he held aloft with a pint bottle of rum artfully concealed in it. "I do bring the true Christmas spirit!" he said, lifting his torch over passers-by, and sprinkling a few drops from the bottle as he walked.

Re: Stave 3

[speakswithdead.insanejournal.com]

Hades did the man the ultimate insult, he pretended not to notice him. "What place is this?"

Re: Stave 3

[acratophorus.insanejournal.com]

Dionysus motioned Hades toward the window, allowing him to see inside as Mrs. Cratchit and her older children bustled about. "The home of your clerk, who takes but fifteen copies of his Christian name home each week."

Re: Stave 3

[the-all-mother.insanejournal.com]

And Frigg quickly made her way onto the stage. She took a deep breath, hoping she'd be passable enough to get this continuing so they get get what they needed and get home. "Where is your father? And Tiny Tim for that matter?"

Re: Stave 3

[tangledmaze.insanejournal.com]

Ariadne slipped onstage as well.
"I'm sure they'll be home soon, Mother," she said to Frigg.

Re: Stave 3

[sitsatcircles.insanejournal.com]

Checking the potatoes. Arthur was pretty sure the part of Peter Cratchit was fairly tattet-centric. Shouldn't be too hard. not nearly so much with the words.

Re: Stave 3

[asphodelcrowned.insanejournal.com]

Seph stood beside Frigg, bedecked in ribbons and fidgeting with tablecloth.

She flashed Hades a 'we'll get through this' smile.

Re: Stave 3

[insickness.insanejournal.com]

One line. She could manage one line. She'd scene this a thousand times. But wait, when was she supposed to say it? And what exactly were Those Things Watching doing when things messed up anyway?


"Father's coming!" she told Frigg and those nice Greek girls.

Re: Stave 3

[tangledmaze.insanejournal.com]

"Then we'll have quite the surprise for them, won't we?" Ariadne said, half hiding herself.

Re: Stave 3

[ieter-amumon.insanejournal.com]

A moment later, Asclepius came in, carrying Erato in his arms.
"Hello, dear," he said warmly to Frigg, "And hello, my darlings!"

Re: Stave 3

[roseredheart.insanejournal.com]

As she was put down, Erato carefully hunched over her crutch.
"Oh, Mother! It smells so good!" she chirped.

Re: Stave 3

[the-all-mother.insanejournal.com]

Frigg smiled, playing a wife and mother spoke to a primal part of her soul. "Welcome home, Bob. And thank you, Tim."

Re: Stave 3

[ieter-amumon.insanejournal.com]

As Erato went off to join her "siblings," Asclepius turned to Frigg.
"You should have seen him in church," he said fondly, "He was as good as gold, and better. He told me that he hoped the people in the church saw him because he thought it might be pleasant for them to remember on Christmas who it was that made lame beggars walk and blind men see."

Re: Stave 3

[the-all-mother.insanejournal.com]

"I'd expect nothing less of him," she says in a tone equaling his. "Come, we're about ready to set the table."

Re: Stave 3

[tangledmaze.insanejournal.com]

Ariadne helped bring some of the dishes to the table.
"It looks absolutely marvelous, Mother," she said with a smile.

Re: Stave 3

[roseredheart.insanejournal.com]

"Hurrah for the feast!" Erato chimed in brightly, taking her seat.

Re: Stave 3

[the-all-mother.insanejournal.com]

"All right everyone, time for the blessing!" She was enjoying this family thing perhaps a little too much..it made her a little sad, but she didn't let it hinder her. "A Merry Christmas us all, God Bless us."

Re: Stave 3

[roseredheart.insanejournal.com]

"God bless us, everyone!" Erato said proudly.