To Incite An Incident
Title: To Incite An Incident
Fandom: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
Verse:Good Place AU
Characters: Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, Alfred, Reynaldo
Pairings: Alfred/Rosencrantz
Summary: There is an art to the building up of suspense
Word Count: 563
“You know what the problem is with this place?” says Guildenstern.
“It’s the Good Place. How could there be any problems when everything is perfect?”
“That’s the thing that gets to me. Rosencrantz, don’t you think it’s odd how stable everything is?”
“… no? It’s just normal. Haven’t you always said the only thing Elsinore needed to be bearable was just a little bit of stability?”
“I said that, yes.” He paces a five foot square despite the literally endless meadow they’re in, then turns back to face Rosencrantz and snaps. “I hate it! I’d finally gotten used to finding my footing again with every scene change, but if I do that here I just fall over myself, or worse - end up waiting for an inciting incident that’s never going to happen. It’s torture!”
“There, there, it’s all right,” says Rosencrantz, squeezing his friend’s shoulders in what feels like some sort of reversal. “I’ll see you’re all right.” The outburst puzzles him, but if they’re used to anything at all, it’s puzzlement at each other, which is not without fondness. “Alfred?”
“Hi, what can I do for you today?” Alfred chirps.
“Guildenstern here wants - well I don’t really understand it myself, but maybe start by cooking up some byzantine architecture and we can work from there.”
“Please,” adds Guildenstern. “I need something to solve or I’m not myself.”
“You mean all this isn’t enough for you?” Alfred mutters.
“What was that?”
“Um, nothing! Look boys, I’m just a Tragedian. Where I come from everyone’s motives are simple and direct and they all follow their fatal flaws like windup toys to their inevitable demise. So if it’s a murder mystery you want… well I’m afraid Sartre and Albee are both busy today, so it’ll have to be… Bad Me?” He’s already holding up a hand before Reynaldo can protest. “No, I know we’re nothing like each other except on paper, but it’s paper that the system acknowledges.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t mind so much when it’s you calling me. It’s the Player I can’t stand. He’s creepy.” Reynaldo sighs. “But after all, what would this place be without red tape and holdovers from irrelevant bylaws?”
“As a matter of fact that’s why I called you here. Guildenstern hasn’t been off-kilter enough lately.” He huffs. “Apparently. So I figured a day in the life of Reynaldo, dramaturge extraordinaire, would be just what he needed!”
Rey brightens considerably. “Oh, if it’s bureaucracy you want, then we might as well do this properly and get you processed for a visitor’s pass. I’ll need your sun and moon signs, your least favorite vegetables, and - Polonius just added this one a century ago - when was the last time you were in a house of ill repute?”
“Never,” he says flatly. “Why d’you-”
“Oh, all will become clear in time…”
“Have fun,” sings Rosencrantz as they vanish for other realms. “Good thinking, Alfred; he’s already in a better mood than he’s been for ages.”
“I’m glad I could help,” says Alfred, sounding genuinely pleased, and he doesn’t pop away now that his job is done. “Say, Rosencrantz?”
“Hmm?”
“Now, time works different in my void, so forgive me if this is an odd question, but last you remembered were we engaged?”
“No, would you like to be?”
“I would.” Now Alfred can’t stop beaming. “I’d like that very much.”. This was originally posted at https://ernest.dreamwidth.org/9142.html. There are
comments there.
Fandom: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
Verse:Good Place AU
Characters: Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, Alfred, Reynaldo
Pairings: Alfred/Rosencrantz
Summary: There is an art to the building up of suspense
Word Count: 563
“You know what the problem is with this place?” says Guildenstern.
“It’s the Good Place. How could there be any problems when everything is perfect?”
“That’s the thing that gets to me. Rosencrantz, don’t you think it’s odd how stable everything is?”
“… no? It’s just normal. Haven’t you always said the only thing Elsinore needed to be bearable was just a little bit of stability?”
“I said that, yes.” He paces a five foot square despite the literally endless meadow they’re in, then turns back to face Rosencrantz and snaps. “I hate it! I’d finally gotten used to finding my footing again with every scene change, but if I do that here I just fall over myself, or worse - end up waiting for an inciting incident that’s never going to happen. It’s torture!”
“There, there, it’s all right,” says Rosencrantz, squeezing his friend’s shoulders in what feels like some sort of reversal. “I’ll see you’re all right.” The outburst puzzles him, but if they’re used to anything at all, it’s puzzlement at each other, which is not without fondness. “Alfred?”
“Hi, what can I do for you today?” Alfred chirps.
“Guildenstern here wants - well I don’t really understand it myself, but maybe start by cooking up some byzantine architecture and we can work from there.”
“Please,” adds Guildenstern. “I need something to solve or I’m not myself.”
“You mean all this isn’t enough for you?” Alfred mutters.
“What was that?”
“Um, nothing! Look boys, I’m just a Tragedian. Where I come from everyone’s motives are simple and direct and they all follow their fatal flaws like windup toys to their inevitable demise. So if it’s a murder mystery you want… well I’m afraid Sartre and Albee are both busy today, so it’ll have to be… Bad Me?” He’s already holding up a hand before Reynaldo can protest. “No, I know we’re nothing like each other except on paper, but it’s paper that the system acknowledges.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t mind so much when it’s you calling me. It’s the Player I can’t stand. He’s creepy.” Reynaldo sighs. “But after all, what would this place be without red tape and holdovers from irrelevant bylaws?”
“As a matter of fact that’s why I called you here. Guildenstern hasn’t been off-kilter enough lately.” He huffs. “Apparently. So I figured a day in the life of Reynaldo, dramaturge extraordinaire, would be just what he needed!”
Rey brightens considerably. “Oh, if it’s bureaucracy you want, then we might as well do this properly and get you processed for a visitor’s pass. I’ll need your sun and moon signs, your least favorite vegetables, and - Polonius just added this one a century ago - when was the last time you were in a house of ill repute?”
“Never,” he says flatly. “Why d’you-”
“Oh, all will become clear in time…”
“Have fun,” sings Rosencrantz as they vanish for other realms. “Good thinking, Alfred; he’s already in a better mood than he’s been for ages.”
“I’m glad I could help,” says Alfred, sounding genuinely pleased, and he doesn’t pop away now that his job is done. “Say, Rosencrantz?”
“Hmm?”
“Now, time works different in my void, so forgive me if this is an odd question, but last you remembered were we engaged?”
“No, would you like to be?”
“I would.” Now Alfred can’t stop beaming. “I’d like that very much.”. This was originally posted at https://ernest.dreamwidth.org/9142.html. There are
comments there.