31 Plays in 31 Days, #3 - "Companion"

To those of you who have seen Downtown Abbey, you may remember the time Mary was considering going to America with her lady's maid Anna to escape a scandal back home. She didn't do it, but I always thought that would make an excellent TV show. Someday I'd like to write it.

Today's scene is brainstorming for that. Elise Charnmore, the sister of Melinda Charnmore the PC in Brockhurst, would be my girl going to Newport to get away. Here's a bit of thought of what it's like when she gets there.

Companion
By Phoebe Roberts

ELISE CHARNMORE, niece to the earl of Brockhurst
DAISY MARCOTTE, daughter to the secretary of an American magnate

Newport, RI, 1914
~~~

ELISE: Good afternoon. Daisy Marcotte, I presume?

DAISY: So you’re here.

ELISE: Ah… yes. My name is Elise Charnmore—

DAISY: Yes. I know.

ELISE: I suppose my Aunt Eleanor told you to expect me.

DAISY: Yes, she informed me of my duties.

ELISE: Your… duties.

DAISY: As your companion, while you wait out the storm of public opinion in England. I am to keep an eye out that you are kept out of any further trouble until such time as you’re fit to return under more respectable circumstances.

(Pause.)

ELISE: Have I done something to offend you, Miss Marcotte? I cannot imagine how, seeing as I’ve only been in your presence a few moments.

DAISY: Do you think I should be pleased?

ELISE: I don’t know that you should be displeased. You don’t know me.

DAISY: Don’t I?

ELISE: No, you don’t.

DAISY: I know that you conducted yourself in such a manner that you were obliged to flee your country in disgrace. That’s all that is of consequence.

ELISE: And do you think that I am any gladder? I don’t need a nursemaid.

DAISY: Your aunt seems to think you do, and so I am the pack mule to be saddled with the libertine from London.

ELISE: Watch what words you speak to me!

DAISY: Don’t act so high and mighty when you’re kept here by your betters’ pity.

ELISE: I was told you were a respectable girl. Is your virtue so fragile that the likes of me is enough to break it?

DAISY: You’re no more than the canker in the blossom, and damned if you don’t corrupt everything you touch. Understand this, girl— if you drag my good name down with the touch of your ignominy, you won’t be glad of it.

31 Plays in 31 Days, #2 - "What If I Don't Want To?"

Today's piece is a snippet for the third Mrs. Hawking story, tentatively titled Base Instruments. While I'm fairly certain I have the major themes and journeys hammered out, I find that there's a lot I don't know about this story yet, the plot in particular. I might have to do a fair bit of thinking before I can do scenes of it for 31 Plays in 31 Days. But here's something, getting at the idea that as much as Mary wants to be Mrs. Hawking's protege, she may not be ready for everything Mrs. Hawking's going to expect.

What If I Don’t Want To?
By Phoebe Roberts

MARY STONE, Mrs. Hawking’s maid and protégé
NATHANIEL HAWKING, Mrs. Hawking’s gentleman nephew
~~~

MARY: Did you know that Mrs. Hawking studied ballet when she was young?

NATHANIEL: Is that so? I'd no idea, how interesting.

MARY: Apparently she once considered making a career of it.

NATHANIEL: Oh, really? Was she any good, then?

MARY: I don't know. But doesn't that surprise you?

NATHANIEL: I quite honestly don’t believe there’s anything she couldn’t do if she cared to. Why, does it you?

MARY: It’s, well… Mrs. Hawking doesn't often like things for their own sake, now, does she?

NATHANIEL: She doesn't like much of anything.

MARY: That's not what I mean. Everything's to a point with her. She practices skills to hone her craft. She studies facts in case it might serve her to know them. For goodness sake, she only reads for the points of reference. To think of her dancing for only the love of it... why, it's entirely new.

NATHANIEL: Goodness. I think I see what you mean.

MARY: Do you think… she’s always been that way?

NATHANIEL: I’m hard pressed to imagine her before she was so bitter.

MARY: It could have been that. Or… do you think she’s found it necessary? For her work, I mean. To care for nothing but that which serves her purpose because that’s the only way she’s capable of accomplishing the enormous things she accomplishes?

NATHANIEL: Goodness, I hope not. I mean to be of help to her, but I couldn’t bear to live as she does. Devoting herself to nothing but her work.

MARY: What if that’s what it takes?

NATHANIEL: Well, then I haven’t got it. I’ve a family, for heaven’s sake, and a hobby or two I’d care to pursue.

(He laughs, but MARY sits very quietly, eyes wide.)

NATHANIEL: Are you quite all right?

MARY: What if I haven’t got it either?

NATHANIEL: Oh, Mary. I’m sure you too can do anything you want to. If you put your mind to it, I’m sure you could become as honed and dedicated as she is.

MARY: No, Nathaniel… what if I don’t want to?

31 Plays in 31 Days, #1 - "Because I Know You're Not"

I am out of town again this month, this time to visit relatives in Pittsburgh, so I am a bit busier than I hoped to be for the first few days of August, but here begins 31 Plays in 31 Days! I just threw this first one together in the few moments before the end of the day, so it's pretty rough, but at least I'm not behind this early.

Today's entry is extremely spoilery for my larp Brockhurst-- this is a scene from the back story of two player characters, so please don't read this one if you're still planning on playing that game!


Because I Know You're Not
by Phoebe Roberts

LIEUTENANT CHRISTIAN CHASE, the last survivor of a WWI English company
LADY ABIGAIL BELLAMY, second daughter of the earl of Brockhurst

London, England, 1914
~~~

(ABIGAIL, dressed in evening wear, approaches CHRISTIAN in his formal uniform at the party.)

ABIGAIL: Lieutenant Christian Chase?

CHRISTIAN: Yes, miss. And who might you be?

ABIGAIL: The same Christian Chase that commanded the hundred and fifty-first company on march into France?

CHRISTIAN: I am.

ABIGAIL: And was the only survivor of that last mission?

CHRISTIAN: Why do you ask?

ABIGAIL: Because I know you're not.

(CHRISTIAN stares.)

CHRISTIAN: What?

ABIGAIL: Don't try to deny it. I know you're not Christian Chase.

CHRISTIAN: W-Why would you-- why would you say that?

ABIGAIL: No one cares to question a war hero, do they? Especially one as useful as you've been. But I noticed that Lieutenant Chase is supposed to be thirty-four years of age, and I'd be surprised if you were a day over twenty-five.

CHRISTIAN: You cannot possibly know if--

ABIGAIL: Dig a little further, and one finds that Chase grew up in the south country, and no one could mistake your accent for anything but that of a Yorkshireman. No, your posh posturing doesn't fool me.

CHRISTIAN: Miss-- I don't know what you mean by all this--

ABIGAIL: Spare me, sir. I wasn't able to turn up just who you are, but I believe it's safe to conclude that you are not who you say you are. And I could reveal that fact at any time.

(Pause.)

CHRISTIAN: Please. You can't tell anyone. You don't know what it means to me.

ABIGAIL: I assure you, that's not my intention. At least, not unless I have to.

CHRISTIAN: I don't mean any harm, I swear.

ABIGAIL: Please, sir, calm yourself.

CHRISTIAN: Just... what do you want?

ABIGAIL: I don't want to ruin you. I want to use you.

CHRISTIAN: Use me... to do what?

ABIGAIL: First thing's first. Why don't you tell me who you really are?