A howl is heard, and then The Wolf enters the scene. Sauntering about the deck as if he owns it, he'll size up anyone who crosses his path. After all, he's just come back from the dead, so he's feeling particularly hungry. Beware. He's a persuasive little thing.

Typist: The Wolf, from Into the Woods. :D

*and here's a rather well-dressed man, looking around confusedly* .....This doesn't look like the forest. Or the castle. *a bow* I am -- well, I suppose I'm Cinderella's prince. Is she here?

Typist: You guessed it. Cinderella's prince from Sondheim's Into the Woods. :D

Mark sat cross-legged on the floor, camera tilted slightly upwards to get the best angle of Roger playing his guitar. He shifted a little, refocused, then continued. "Zoom in on Roger: Rockstar, musical genius, lady's man, generally a cool guy. What do you have to say on this fine evening ( Read more... )

A young, very beautiful lady with a nevertheless solemn look on her face appears. She is dressed in the loveliest of ball gowns and upon her feet are delicate slippers as pure as gold. A tiny bird sits on her shoulder, her one comfort in this strange new place. "What happened to the prince?" she says aloud, before setting off to explore this new ( Read more... )

A little girl skips onto the deck, garbed in a cloak of wolf-skins. She surveys her surroundings with a look that is a mixture of naivete and hauteur, innocence and experience.

Well, this is quite odd, isn't it? I don't remember getting on a boat. I am on a boat, aren't I?

Little Red Riding Hood from Into the Woods.

*a rather plain and not particularly notable woman enters...or rather appears, looking quite confused about it* Where am I?

[Typist: The Baker's Wife from Into the Woods. Just after she was killed by the giant.]