Work Text:
SETTING: Outside of the original context of Upon the Twelfth Hour. The main twelve characters exist in their original setting, but without the drama of the murders. In this case everyone is actually just enjoying a cruise out in the Angel’s Tears. The SONGBIRD sits at the end of the bar with a cup of tea, exhausted from socializing with the PUNDIT and the ENTERTAINER. The INVOKER acts as the bartender, and the rest of the cast is milling about the lounge socializing and drinking, sans NOBLEMAN. The WATCHER is seen hanging off of the PRACTITIONER, flirting and stealing his drinks while speaking very loudly.
WATCHER (yelling): Hey Songbirddddd! Helloooo Songbirdddd c’mere!
The SONGBIRD looks up and waves without much enthusiasm, and does not move from her seat. The WATCHER peels themself off of the PRACTITIONER and makes their way over towards the SONGBIRD.
WATCHER: You ignorin’ me?
SONGBIRD: Oh no, of course not. I’m just a little tired is all.
WATCHER: So y’are but you’re too polite to say so.
SONGBIRD: Well, no I-
WATCHER (cutting her off with the wave of their hand): Nah don’t worry, I get it. I’m a lil big for most people t’ take.
The WATCHER winks at the SONGBIRD, who blushes heavily and looks back down at her tea as if she’s studying it.
WATCHER: I’m jus’ messin’ with you. But for real, why’re you over here alone with her? (he gestures towards the INVOKER)
SONGBIRD: I just don’t do very well with loud crowds. It takes a lot of me to even be near Miss Entertainer for an extended amount of time, much less an entire group of people.
WATCHER (sitting next to her): Damn. Entertainer is so sweet on ya yet that’s how you think a’ her?
SONGBIRD: I don’t mean to say I don’t enjoy her company, I just also enjoy being quiet and calm.
WATCHER: Perfect match ain’t it?
SONGBIRD: I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but we are not together.
WATCHER: Sure y’ain’t. Order a drink fer me?
SONGBIRD: Order a- you’re right here? Why can’t you order one?
WATCHER (glancing over at the INVOKER): ‘Fraid she’ll spit in it.
INVOKER: I can hear you, you know. You’ve already had enough alcohol for the entire ship.
WATCHER: Ever tried mindin’ your own?
INVOKER: I wouldn’t spit in your drink ‘cause you’d enjoy it too much.
WATCHER: I get that ‘m freaky but not for you girlie. Got my eyes on somethin’ a little prettier.
INVOKER: Who, the Nobleman?
The WATCHER attempts to jump up over the bar at her in the middle of her sentence. The PRACTITIONER gets up and physically pulls them away from the bar. He holds them by their shoulders facing him.
PRACTITIONER: Are you capable of behaving?
WATCHER: Make me.
PRACTITIONER: No.
WATCHER: Sure you don’ wanna strap me to a chair so I don’t get up n’ cause more problems?
PRACTITIONER: I do not.
The PRACTITIONER puts the WATCHER down. They fold their arms in a pouty manner and sit back down next to the SONGBIRD, facing away from the INVOKER. The PRACTITIONER speaks directly to the INVOKER inaudibly a few chairs away.
SONGBIRD: Are you alright?
WATCHER: Never betta. Drink?
SONGBIRD: I don’t really want to incur the wrath of the bartender by ordering a drink for you.
WATCHER: ‘m surrounded by pushovers n’ scary brick walls.
SONGBIRD: What if you tried being nice to her?
WATCHER: The brick wall?
SONGBIRD: The bartender. I’m sure she wouldn’t actually spit in your drink or anything.
WATCHER: Easy fer you to say, ev’ryone loves ya.
SONGBIRD: I just don’t make a habit of being an ass to everyone. Pardon my language. I don’t quite have the ability to anyway. Maybe if you try to be nice you’ll be surprised?
The WATCHER spends a few moments thinking about it.
WATCHER: Sure I’ll try it, but only ‘cause you’re real pretty and have one ‘a those trustable faces y’know?
WATCHER (turning to face the bar): Miss Barkeep, one alcohol drink o’er here.
The INVOKER breaks away from her conversation with the PRACTITIONER.
INVOKER: What do people typically say when asking for something?
WATCHER: Are ya really gonna make me say it.
INVOKER (cleaning a glass and nodding): Sure am.
WATCHER (through gritted teeth): Please?
The INVOKER looks at the WATCHER in a way that shows she expects more.
WATCHER: UGH okay I tried. Neva again.
The WATCHER looks over at the SONGBIRD, who is not meeting their gaze and instead is looking pointedly away. The INVOKER resumes her conversation with the PRACTITIONER. The WATCHER begins to fidget, uncomfortable that they had to be polite and didn’t get anything out of it except nobody paying attention to them anymore.
WATCHER (annoyed and with a slightly quieter voice): Would’ya please make me a drink? I’ll take literally anythin’ with alcohol.
INVOKER (smiling): That wasn’t so hard, was it?
WATCHER: You got no idea the agony yer puttin’ me through.
INVOKER: Maybe you could use a little more agony and a little less being spoiled, just a thought!
WATCHER: ‘m askin’ for a drink, not t’ be lectured.
SONGBIRD: Perhaps you should try a little less to ruin it before she gives you your drink?
INVOKER: I’d listen to her! I’ve got plenty of time to do something to it.
WATCHER: I said “please” twice, what more d’ya want from me woman?
INVOKER (setting the drink in front of them): 12 loops.
WATCHER: Jus’ add it t’ my tab.
One of the tables bursts into incredibly loud and obnoxious laughter, with the ENTERTAINER being the center of it all. The SONGBIRD visibly shrinks back at the sudden noise, and the WATCHER notices.
WATCHER: Damn, y’ really came to th’ wrong place as a chick who hates parties.
SONGBIRD: I don’t hate parties, I hate really loud noises. Also I was invited up here to sing, not necessarily be overly social.
WATCHER: Y’ must be a real riot when drunk.
SONGBIRD: I’m really not.
WATCHER: Yea I. Yeah I know, I was bein’ sarcastic.
SONGBIRD: Oh, sorry.
WATCHER (standing and pointing to the door): Y’know what uh, head out that side door n’ go like ten rooms back on yer right there’ll be a real nice n’ quiet room for ya to relax in.
SONGBIRD: Oh, thank you very much. I really need somewhere to be away from this that isn’t the auditorium.
The SONGBIRD pushes her cup back and stands, heading out. The WATCHER leans back against the bar and sips their drink.
WATCHER (waving her off): No need t’ thank me.
The SONGBIRD slips out the door, and the WATCHER is seen walking back towards the rest of the group.