ROLES
VIN, a Ravenblooded Face.
KIT, a swordswoman.
DAVIAN, a Strain monster hunter with a warped face.
RONNIE, a giant Strain monster hunter with mismatched arms and a cherubic face. Mute.
WHIP, a young Strain monster hunter with a gimp leg.
GAST, a rotund Strain.
P. BEAVER, the topmost beaver.
E. BEAVER, the middle beaver.
L. BEAVER, the bottom beaver.
AUDIENCE, of noble and aesthetic disposition.
ACT 2
SCENE 14.1.4
Enter the BEAVER trio, who hide behind red vines. Faint squeaking emanates afterwards, accompanied by the movement of branches around the stage. Moments later, enter VIN, slightly out of breath.
VIN (furious) Confound those blighted creatures!
VIN casts his gaze across the stage, and sighs.
Forward bound has been our cart,
Yet fallen forest have cleft our path,
By frothing monsters ‘tween the trees;
Slights pierce my skin like bitter bees!
A day and night have I searched,
For monstrous beavers in the lurch,
And for all their chomping ‘round these woods,
Unjust rewards come chip my tooth.
Were it not for senses goodly ‘n godly,
My quarry may’ve slipped me promptly!
But silence now. I feel a voice,
Coming from these crimson trees.
My powers must be wrapped anon,
‘les friends turn foul and strike me down.
Enter KIT, shortly followed by DAVIAN and RONNIE.
Ho, friends! How fare thee?
KIT (frowning) Why’re you speakin’ like that?
VIN (aside) Pointed is the swordsman’s tongue,
A single slip sees me undone!
KIT I’m a woman.
DAVIAN Addressing that would have ruined his rhyming scheme.
KIT He’s not a fucking bloody tactician. He don’t need a scheme.
A branch’s movement hits KIT in the head. She looks around the stage. Faint chittering emanates from behind the vines.
What th’…
DAVIAN I’m referring to… a technique used by bards.
(whispering) The blow to the head could still be lingering.
And a Face often uses such rhymes in their performances,
So it’s far from exclusive to bards.
RONNIE signs ‘no cap?’
KIT (looking at RONNIE) What they jus’ say?
DAVIAN (squinting) They’re enquiring as to the authenticity of my statement.
I think.
(to RONNIE) It’s not necessary for every Face, but it does occur.
VIN Time and trade hath flattened,
My companions’ manners.
RONNIE signs ‘I feel you’.
KIT Shit Gods, I can’t understan’ neither of ‘em.
DAVIAN Where’s Whip when you need her?
WHIP limps on-stage, a crutch under her arm. GAST follows shortly after, breathing heavily.
VIN Speak of need and she appears!
If only beavers were so dear.
WHIP What’s happening?
RONNIE signs ‘Vin’s finna rap’.
(to VIN) You’re rhyming?
VIN (aside) These prats believe my marbles lost,
Their foolish prattling rattling,
Of their orbs’s lacking!
KIT (gripping her sword’s hilt) He jus’ call us dumb?
DAVIAN Stow your blade.
His skull’s still shaken.
VIN So mistaken,
An acquaintance,
And shameless,
A conveyance,
I’ve rarely seen.
DAVIAN I’d like to think we’re more than acquaintances.
RONNIE nods. GAST begins wandering around the stage, inspecting walls.
VIN Uh…
He scratches his head.
My…
The…
He clears his throat.
In pursuing art,
Some mouths have found a slant,
Well-divorced from truth’s path.
WHIP He means ‘sorry’.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
VIN shrugs.
VIN (to WHIP) Keen ears,
Matchéd by sharper mind.
WHIP turns away. RONNIE signs ‘Man’s got rizz.’
WHIP (translating) A… kind compliment.
VIN A deservéd one.
RONNIE’s brows raise. They wiggle them at WHIP. WHIP does not notice.
A branch hits RONNIE in the head, and they swiftly raise their middle-finger after it.
KIT scoffs.
DAVIAN Have you had any luck with the beasts?
VIN Their sight remains as mist.
DAVIAN (rubbing his eyes) I assume that means no.
VIN Aptly observed.
Even so, I think them close.
GAST (near the vines) I think so too.
KIT (grinning) This’ll be fun, then.
GAST tears down the vines, revealing a trench-coat wearing form – the BEAVER trio, stacked atop one another. They peddle atop a small contraption.
GAST (coolly) Hello.
P. BEAVER Ah, hello. Lovely day for a stroll!
L. BEAVER (muttering from within) As if a branch’d
And covetous grasp,
Allows the day between
The Heartwood’s reaching leaves.
VIN points a finger at the coat, sliding around GAST’s large form.
VIN (excited) A fellow!
P. BEAVER No, just me. Ha.
E. BEAVER (whispering) We should not be here!
Get us out!
The BEAVERs dismount.
VIN clears his throat.
VIN How long hath thee belaboured here
Where bloody flora drives men queer?
P. BEAVER (looking down) Does he mean gay?
Do trees make beavers gay?
Pause.
L. BEAVER What logic provokes you – my mind’s run aground!
As foolish a musing as ever I heard;
His thoughts can be sum’rised in much fewer words:
‘Queer’ as in ‘weird’!
E. BEAVER (quickly) Not that it’s weird to be queer.
Pause.
We’re not weird. But queer’s not weird.
P. BEAVER We’re queer?
E. BEAVER We’re not strange.
P. BEAVER …But we’re gay?
E. BEAVER What?
L. BEAVER (aside) Gods, please, strike me down.
E. BEAVER Look: the point is, we’re perfectly normal.
WHIP (evenly) You’re a collection of beavers in a coat.
VIN (nodding) Such thoughts hardly require crossing a moat.
E. BEAVER Perfectly normal.
DAVIAN You have fur!
VIN You do possess a hirsute disposition.
P. BEAVER’s face turns purple as it attempts to copy VIN’s rhyme.
P. BEAVER And it provides… a… little imposition.
L. BEAVER Gods! Your ineloquence astounds me!
E. BEAVER A lot of sass from a glorified codpiece!
VIN (aside) The tangled face reveals a tangled mind.
L. BEAVER I can scarcely understand; your stupidity confounds!
E. BEAVER Would a semicolon make me smarter?
L. BEAVER (offended) Hey! That’s uncalled for!
E. BEAVER Mayhaps a hyphen?
L. BEAVER Shut it, furball!
E. BEAVER Learn to craft a sentence well-structured
Without relying on grammatical crutches,
And then I might.
L. BEAVER You would never get off the ground without me!
E. BEAVER Your suffering would be consolation enough.
P. BEAVER Please stop fighting!
VIN waves an arm dramatically.
VIN Enough! Your chittering conceals,
Motives most foul.
KIT gives VIN a disgusted stare. He withers slightly. She speaks.
KIT Why’d you do it?
E. BEAVER (simultaneously) Don’t-
L. BEAVER (simultaneously) A future scene is quite the foe!
Its verbal blade hath struck much low!
P. BEAVER (simultaneously) I thought it’d be funny.
E. BEAVER Gods! We’re not running a mood-diary, here!
Keep it professional!
P. BEAVER (pouting) I’m the speaker! You guys never let me speak!
This is the one time-
L. BEAVER Go stare at a ceiling.
P. BEAVER sulks.
E. BEAVER Look what you’ve done!
He’s going to be like that all day, now.
L. BEAVER Hm.
KIT (whispering) Whare they talkin’ ‘bout?
An AUDIENCE member stands.
AUDIENCE *What’re.
Water?
No, *what’re.
Thanks.
KIT (whispering) Water they talkin’ ‘bout.
VIN (whispering) Buying time for foes,
And enemies unknown.
KIT Fuck Blood, I can’t understand you either.
P. BEAVER (sitting straight upright) What was that?
E. BEAVER Was that a swear?
L. BEAVER Kit just swore.
The BEAVER trio pauses momentarily.
E. BEAVER There’s not meant to be any cussing here.
L. BEAVER (muttering) Mind the murder and mass slaughter.
E. BEAVER Quiet! It was agreed upon!
Who allowed this?
L. BEAVER (sarcastic) Invoke a god’s gen’tals.
Such ducking always works.
P. BEAVER It’s funny, though.
L. BEAVER (sighing) A purging is in order.
E. BEAVER Blood, I hope no one notices.
P. BEAVER It makes sense!
L. BEAVER It’s inconsistent!
E. BEAVER Why are we here?
I hate this.
P. BEAVER We all agreed!
L. BEAVER I agreéd not.
P. BEAVER Well, we took a vote.
E. BEAVER …You whined-
P. BEAVER You agreed!
E. BEAVER Not like this! We could’ve done anything else.
It’s L’s fault. He chose.
L. BEAVER Putting this on me,
Is a crime against us three.
P. BEAVER Aw, it’s just plain fun, E!
E. BEAVER No, no, no.
This is a tragedy. A tragic story.
There shouldn’t be three talking beavers here.
Blood; Death; Tears; Tragedy!
(to KIT) Quick – stab someone!
We need a death to make things well!
Lest the viewers strike us low!
KIT thrusts her sword into the trench-coat, impaling E. BEAVER. The trench-coat immediately topples to the ground.
KIT Well, there ya go.
VIN throws his hands in the air.
VIN Verily, I should by now know
Kit’s first solution is a blow.
Never mind the motivations
Behind beaver’s ministrations:
Architecture or assassination?
Work wet with water or blood?
These answers now belong with the mud.
RONNIE signs ‘Sheeesh’.
KIT It’s a beaver.
VIN It’s a creature.
DAVIAN It’s a plump and tasty dinner.
VIN looks at him.
RONNIE pats their belly.
WHIP Ronnie’s hungry.
VIN looks at her.
GAST Eating’s important.
VIN (shaking his head) Fine.
I’ll put it in the pot.
KIT punches VIN in the arm. He rubs it.
KIT Well figured.
VIN reaches into the trench-coat and withdraws E. BEAVER.
Exeunt all but the two remaining BEAVERS.
L. BEAVER and P. BEAVER crawl from the trench-coat.
L. BEAVER E should’ve seen this coming.
P. BEAVER He should’ve.
L. BEAVER No, E should’ve.
P. BEAVER That’s what I said.
L. BEAVER waits expectantly.
L. BEAVER …Oh.
P. BEAVER …What do we do?
L. BEAVER …I don’t know.
Exit L. & P.-
AUDIENCE (suddenly stands) This sucks.
AUDIENCE MEMBER begins leaving.
P. BEAVER Where are they going?
Where are they going?
P. BEAVER stands awkwardly, then dives off-stage and clings to AUDIENCE MEMBER’s leg.
L. BEAVER Oh, gods.
P. BEAVER Don’t do it!
AUDIENCE MEMBER stops, juddering. Their mouth slowly creaks open.
L. BEAVER Quick! +rep!
P. BEAVER (vomiting leaves) It’s not working!
Within a maelstrom of leaves, AUDIENCE MEMBER speaks.
AUDIENCE this story seems to be alright up to a point but the writer just released this new chapter and it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense but even before then it was a bit strange to be honest some of the characters irk me like what’s up with those beavers anyway and the main character's jaw-droppingly stupid…
Continues.
…did i mention the beavers anyway it’s alright i guess probably 3/5.
BEAVERS scream.
END