![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seikilosTitle: Insubordination of the Massive Purple Kind
Theme: #25 - the curtain falls
Rating: G
Genre: Humour
Yeah, it's borderline unbelievable, but once Yoshimi planted the plotbunny in my head via crack conversation, I simply couldn't shake it.
Placed in chronological order in the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30_hugs post.
“Lord Botta! Lord Yuan! Thank you for meeting with us!” the Renegade said with a sharp salute.
Yuan looked around the storage room that had recently been converted into a combination rehearsal and props room by the Renegades’ brand-new Amateur Theatrics Society.
“I believe you had said something about your first play?” Yuan folded his arms.
“Yes, sir. We would like to offer you and Lord Botta the lead roles.” The soldier looked pleased with himself.
Yuan and Botta coughed almost simultaneously to cover their reactions.
“And which play is this?” Yuan asked once he had regained his neutral expression.
“It’s called Cassandrina, Lord Yuan, and we’ve already got the costumes prepared. Lolina, bring them out,” he called.
A Renegade who had been standing at attention next to him scurried away, returning with two folded costumes in her arms. “Here you are, sirs. We weren’t certain of your measurements, so we had to guess.”
The first Renegade took the top outfit from Lolina and shook it out. It seemed to be fairly standard hero wear.
“All right,” Yuan said as he took in the costume, not committing to anything. The second garment caught his eye. It was purple and seemed to be silky in nature. “What’s that?”
“That’s the other lead’s costume.” The first Renegade looked proud. “We spent a long time on it and we had to use lots of fabric, but it came out really well.” He flourished a beautifully-made dress. “What do you think, Lord Botta?”
Centuries of concealing his emotions dissolved at the genuinely proud looks on the faces of the two Renegades. Yuan burst out laughing. He started laughing harder at the expression on Botta’s face.
“. . . I think that’s a no, Josep,” Lolina said with a sigh.
* * *
A number of weeks later, Yuan settled himself into a folding chair in one of the large main rooms of the base. After rapidly scouting out two replacement leads for their play, the Amateur Theatrics Society had put together Cassandrina and was now ready to present it, with Yuan and Botta in front-row seats of honour. Getting comfortable was impossible in the hard metal chairs, so Yuan resigned himself to tolerable instead.
Botta sat down next to him a few moments later.
“Are you ready to see what our roles would have been, Botta?” Yuan asked, smiling faintly at the memory of the giant purple dress.
Botta’s expression was at its most blank. “Yes, sir.”
Yuan’s smile widened, although all he said was, “Looks like the show is about to start.”
The lights, already dimming as Yuan spoke, finished growing fainter so that there was only a slight glow emanating from them. A few darkly-clad Renegades walked out carrying bits of scenery created from various odds and ends, set them down, and then departed. The lights became a bit brighter, and then a young female Renegade walked onstage wearing the infamous purple dress.
Yuan’s smile, having faded, came back in full force, this time in the incarnation of a smirk. The dress must have been a third of its original size, as the actor in the role once intended for Botta was positively tiny. Glancing over, Yuan noted that Botta’s face, as always, revealed nothing. This only increased Yuan’s amusement.
The play began with the lead, Cassandrina, lamenting over a marriage her parents had arranged for her. After spending a suitable amount of time angsting, she then moved on to sighing over the man she truly loved, whom she had been forbidden to marry. With amazing timing, a voice came from off-stage—her lover had sneaked onto her parents’ property and was about to give her an impassioned speech from outside.
At this point, Yuan was rolling his eyes and wondering if his Renegades had gone out of their way to pick a terribly-plotted story. Then he caught sight of the outfit Cassandrina’s lover was wearing and nearly choked. Beside him, Botta went into a coughing fit.
“Isn’t that—?” Botta began once he could speak.
“Yes.”
“But that would mean they would have expected us to—”
“Yes.”
As the scene came to a close, Yuan began to calculate the appropriate pay docking that would have to take place, trying very hard to keep his personal opinion out of things. It was becoming increasingly difficult as the play went on. While he had to admit his initial reaction to the gigantic purple dress had been one of amusement, he knew he couldn’t let something such as this pass by. It was far too close to insubordination.
Returning his attention to the play, Yuan found Cassandrina’s lover, destined to be played by Yuan, had, after speaking appropriately soppy lines, come up with a plan to save Cassandrina from her marriage to her fiancé. This involved Cassandrina’s lover dressing up as the fiancé and marrying Cassandrina in his place.
At this point, having settled upon an appropriate deduction, Yuan was beginning to wonder if his eyes would roll right out of his head from the dreadful plotting. Yet the worst was yet to come.
The play limped on, with many supposedly hilarious mishaps, misunderstandings, and impossible cases of mistaken identity. The climax of the play was the wedding scene where Cassandrina’s lover was very nearly successful in carrying out his plan when at the last minute someone exposed him as a fraud. However, instead of the sensible ending of the lover getting booted out and the wedding continuing as it was supposed to, the priest stepped in and married the young couple anyway.
As the pair embraced onstage, Yuan turned to Botta. “I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. Did they make the play this bad on purpose? Surely no one could manage this by accident.”
“It’s hard to say, sir,” Botta said, not committing to anything.
Yuan glanced back at the stage area. “I’d personally say—gods above! What were they thinking?”
The new husband had just swept Cassandrina into his arms and was striding manfully offstage. Yuan looked from the pair to his six-and-a-half foot subordinate. Up went one eyebrow. “They expected me to carry you like that?”
“That . . . seems to be the case, sir.” Botta seemed somewhat disturbed.
“Obviously with angelic strength, then.” Yuan simply shook his head.
The play ended a few moments later. Had there been a curtain, it would have fallen. However, due to the low budget of the Amateur Theatrics Society, all that happened was the lights brightened and the stage crew came out to disassemble the set. The attending Renegades got to their feet ands stretched, discussing what they had just seen. Yuan, however, headed “backstage” to confront those who had been responsible for the casting. Botta followed to act as a stabilising influence.
“So, Lord Yuan, Lord Botta,” Josep greeted them, a proud smile on his face, “what did you think? Wasn’t it a great play?”
Yuan was completely unmoved. “I’m docking you and everyone else involved in casting a month’s pay for insubordination.”
The smile, and those of the surrounding theatre society members, disappeared instantly, to be replaced by one of intense hurt.
“You didn’t like it?” Josep’s voice was filled with disappointment.
“You cast those roles with the express purpose of making a mockery of your superiors.” Yuan folded his arms and glared. “While the Renegades may be a more tolerant group than the Desians from which you were recruited, Private Josep, there are limits. Respect must be given to your superiors. I don’t believe attempting to make Lord Botta crossdress would be an appropriate expression of respect, would you?”
Botta’s face remained carefully neutral as Josep replied, “But, Lord Yuan, we only wanted to give you and Lord Botta a chance at the starring roles. Besides, it’s theatre—people crossdress all the time in theatre!”
“That may be the case, but the Renegades are a military organisation first and an acting troupe . . . at least forty-fifth.” Yuan’s expression had yet to lighten one whit. “Do you understand, Private Josep?”
Josep saluted, disappointment still evident in every line of his body. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again, sir.”
“Good. See that it doesn’t.” Yuan turned on his heel and walked briskly out the door, Botta following.
Once the two leaders had left the room, Josep exhaled loudly. “I don’t know what it is about Lord Yuan, but for a man his size, he certainly can make someone feel even smaller.”
“Remind me never to listen to you again, Josep,” Lolina said with a glare if not as impressive as Lord Yuan’s—which had been perfected over the millennia—still fearsome all the same. “That’s an entire month’s pay you lost me! And half the Amateur Theatrics Society, for that matter!”
“Well, we’re paid peanuts, anyway, and we have free room and board, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.” He smiled widely. “Think of it as making a charitable donation to this fine organisation.”
“All of our wages for a month?”
Josep spread his arms wide. “Just think about how much credit you’ll earn with the Goddess Martel for such charity—if she existed, that is.”
Lolina didn’t even bother to dignify that with a reply. Conveniently forgetting she had been just as gung-ho about the whole ploy to get Lord Botta into a dress as Josep had been, she vowed the next time something like this happened, it would be curtains for her friend.
Theme: #25 - the curtain falls
Rating: G
Genre: Humour
Yeah, it's borderline unbelievable, but once Yoshimi planted the plotbunny in my head via crack conversation, I simply couldn't shake it.
Placed in chronological order in the
30_hugs post.“Lord Botta! Lord Yuan! Thank you for meeting with us!” the Renegade said with a sharp salute.
Yuan looked around the storage room that had recently been converted into a combination rehearsal and props room by the Renegades’ brand-new Amateur Theatrics Society.
“I believe you had said something about your first play?” Yuan folded his arms.
“Yes, sir. We would like to offer you and Lord Botta the lead roles.” The soldier looked pleased with himself.
Yuan and Botta coughed almost simultaneously to cover their reactions.
“And which play is this?” Yuan asked once he had regained his neutral expression.
“It’s called Cassandrina, Lord Yuan, and we’ve already got the costumes prepared. Lolina, bring them out,” he called.
A Renegade who had been standing at attention next to him scurried away, returning with two folded costumes in her arms. “Here you are, sirs. We weren’t certain of your measurements, so we had to guess.”
The first Renegade took the top outfit from Lolina and shook it out. It seemed to be fairly standard hero wear.
“All right,” Yuan said as he took in the costume, not committing to anything. The second garment caught his eye. It was purple and seemed to be silky in nature. “What’s that?”
“That’s the other lead’s costume.” The first Renegade looked proud. “We spent a long time on it and we had to use lots of fabric, but it came out really well.” He flourished a beautifully-made dress. “What do you think, Lord Botta?”
Centuries of concealing his emotions dissolved at the genuinely proud looks on the faces of the two Renegades. Yuan burst out laughing. He started laughing harder at the expression on Botta’s face.
“. . . I think that’s a no, Josep,” Lolina said with a sigh.
A number of weeks later, Yuan settled himself into a folding chair in one of the large main rooms of the base. After rapidly scouting out two replacement leads for their play, the Amateur Theatrics Society had put together Cassandrina and was now ready to present it, with Yuan and Botta in front-row seats of honour. Getting comfortable was impossible in the hard metal chairs, so Yuan resigned himself to tolerable instead.
Botta sat down next to him a few moments later.
“Are you ready to see what our roles would have been, Botta?” Yuan asked, smiling faintly at the memory of the giant purple dress.
Botta’s expression was at its most blank. “Yes, sir.”
Yuan’s smile widened, although all he said was, “Looks like the show is about to start.”
The lights, already dimming as Yuan spoke, finished growing fainter so that there was only a slight glow emanating from them. A few darkly-clad Renegades walked out carrying bits of scenery created from various odds and ends, set them down, and then departed. The lights became a bit brighter, and then a young female Renegade walked onstage wearing the infamous purple dress.
Yuan’s smile, having faded, came back in full force, this time in the incarnation of a smirk. The dress must have been a third of its original size, as the actor in the role once intended for Botta was positively tiny. Glancing over, Yuan noted that Botta’s face, as always, revealed nothing. This only increased Yuan’s amusement.
The play began with the lead, Cassandrina, lamenting over a marriage her parents had arranged for her. After spending a suitable amount of time angsting, she then moved on to sighing over the man she truly loved, whom she had been forbidden to marry. With amazing timing, a voice came from off-stage—her lover had sneaked onto her parents’ property and was about to give her an impassioned speech from outside.
At this point, Yuan was rolling his eyes and wondering if his Renegades had gone out of their way to pick a terribly-plotted story. Then he caught sight of the outfit Cassandrina’s lover was wearing and nearly choked. Beside him, Botta went into a coughing fit.
“Isn’t that—?” Botta began once he could speak.
“Yes.”
“But that would mean they would have expected us to—”
“Yes.”
As the scene came to a close, Yuan began to calculate the appropriate pay docking that would have to take place, trying very hard to keep his personal opinion out of things. It was becoming increasingly difficult as the play went on. While he had to admit his initial reaction to the gigantic purple dress had been one of amusement, he knew he couldn’t let something such as this pass by. It was far too close to insubordination.
Returning his attention to the play, Yuan found Cassandrina’s lover, destined to be played by Yuan, had, after speaking appropriately soppy lines, come up with a plan to save Cassandrina from her marriage to her fiancé. This involved Cassandrina’s lover dressing up as the fiancé and marrying Cassandrina in his place.
At this point, having settled upon an appropriate deduction, Yuan was beginning to wonder if his eyes would roll right out of his head from the dreadful plotting. Yet the worst was yet to come.
The play limped on, with many supposedly hilarious mishaps, misunderstandings, and impossible cases of mistaken identity. The climax of the play was the wedding scene where Cassandrina’s lover was very nearly successful in carrying out his plan when at the last minute someone exposed him as a fraud. However, instead of the sensible ending of the lover getting booted out and the wedding continuing as it was supposed to, the priest stepped in and married the young couple anyway.
As the pair embraced onstage, Yuan turned to Botta. “I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. Did they make the play this bad on purpose? Surely no one could manage this by accident.”
“It’s hard to say, sir,” Botta said, not committing to anything.
Yuan glanced back at the stage area. “I’d personally say—gods above! What were they thinking?”
The new husband had just swept Cassandrina into his arms and was striding manfully offstage. Yuan looked from the pair to his six-and-a-half foot subordinate. Up went one eyebrow. “They expected me to carry you like that?”
“That . . . seems to be the case, sir.” Botta seemed somewhat disturbed.
“Obviously with angelic strength, then.” Yuan simply shook his head.
The play ended a few moments later. Had there been a curtain, it would have fallen. However, due to the low budget of the Amateur Theatrics Society, all that happened was the lights brightened and the stage crew came out to disassemble the set. The attending Renegades got to their feet ands stretched, discussing what they had just seen. Yuan, however, headed “backstage” to confront those who had been responsible for the casting. Botta followed to act as a stabilising influence.
“So, Lord Yuan, Lord Botta,” Josep greeted them, a proud smile on his face, “what did you think? Wasn’t it a great play?”
Yuan was completely unmoved. “I’m docking you and everyone else involved in casting a month’s pay for insubordination.”
The smile, and those of the surrounding theatre society members, disappeared instantly, to be replaced by one of intense hurt.
“You didn’t like it?” Josep’s voice was filled with disappointment.
“You cast those roles with the express purpose of making a mockery of your superiors.” Yuan folded his arms and glared. “While the Renegades may be a more tolerant group than the Desians from which you were recruited, Private Josep, there are limits. Respect must be given to your superiors. I don’t believe attempting to make Lord Botta crossdress would be an appropriate expression of respect, would you?”
Botta’s face remained carefully neutral as Josep replied, “But, Lord Yuan, we only wanted to give you and Lord Botta a chance at the starring roles. Besides, it’s theatre—people crossdress all the time in theatre!”
“That may be the case, but the Renegades are a military organisation first and an acting troupe . . . at least forty-fifth.” Yuan’s expression had yet to lighten one whit. “Do you understand, Private Josep?”
Josep saluted, disappointment still evident in every line of his body. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again, sir.”
“Good. See that it doesn’t.” Yuan turned on his heel and walked briskly out the door, Botta following.
Once the two leaders had left the room, Josep exhaled loudly. “I don’t know what it is about Lord Yuan, but for a man his size, he certainly can make someone feel even smaller.”
“Remind me never to listen to you again, Josep,” Lolina said with a glare if not as impressive as Lord Yuan’s—which had been perfected over the millennia—still fearsome all the same. “That’s an entire month’s pay you lost me! And half the Amateur Theatrics Society, for that matter!”
“Well, we’re paid peanuts, anyway, and we have free room and board, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.” He smiled widely. “Think of it as making a charitable donation to this fine organisation.”
“All of our wages for a month?”
Josep spread his arms wide. “Just think about how much credit you’ll earn with the Goddess Martel for such charity—if she existed, that is.”
Lolina didn’t even bother to dignify that with a reply. Conveniently forgetting she had been just as gung-ho about the whole ploy to get Lord Botta into a dress as Josep had been, she vowed the next time something like this happened, it would be curtains for her friend.
