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Ophelia Sprout

"I do not know, my lord, what I should think."

0 · 1,372 views · located in Verona, Pennsylvania

a character in “All The World's A Stage”, as played by katyisaladybug

Description




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{"You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.โ€}
~ Pablo Neruda
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|{Full Name}|
Ophelia Elizabeth Sprout

|{Nickname}|
Some affectionately call her Phelia, others just Lia...she doesn't mind what she's called. She loves and accepts all nicknames.

|{Age}|
21

|{Sexuality}|
Heterosexual

|{Occupation}|
Employee at the Verona Herbal Tea Shop.

|{Role}|
Ophelia || Hamlet


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|{Appearance}|
Green eyes as bright as stars, wispy chocolate hair, and doll-white skin with no visible scars or blemishes makes Ophelia stand out as one of the many beauties living in Verona. Her features are very small and delicate-like, as though a mere touch of her skin would send her dissolving into thin air. She stands at 5'6'' and weighs a solid 120 lbs. Her two front teeth are somewhat large, but when she smiles, they make her grin something to remember. She tends to wear deep purples, greens, and pale pinks, as well as white, and on occasion, navy blue. She almost never wears black. (Unless the black clothing she is wearing has something bedazzled or engraved onto it.) She walks with a slight bounce, and her movements become faster the more excitement she feels. Her voice, although shrilly, is pleasant like rain against a window pane. In fact, the aroma of Ophelia's skin itself is something of a fresh rain smell.

|{Hobbies || Talents}|
Flower Picking ~ Perhaps the hobby and skill she is best known for. In her spare time, Ophelia likes to circle around the park, pulling wildflowers out of the ground and arranging them into neat little bouquets and crowns. She picks some for her boyfriend almost every week.
Tea Expert ~ Since it is her job, she is a walking dictionary when it comes to herbal teas and what to drink during this time of year and which mugs are best for keeping the liquid warm, etcetera, etcetera. She makes some for her father every day.
Singing ~ With a lovely voice and a wide imagination, she enjoys making up songs on the spot.
The Community ~ Altruistic, she helps others more than she helps herself, and finds joy in putting a smile on someone else's face.

|{Fears || Weaknesses}|
Drowning ~ Ophelia feels that having your lungs fill up with water is perhaps the nastiest way to die. She can't swim, (or at least she can't swim very well,) so at times, the water does make her cringe.
Insanity ~ She feels the mind is too precious to be thrown away, and feels sorry, as well as frightened, around those who have it.
Peer Pressure ~ A major flaw of hers, she knows that she is heavily influenced by the power of peer pressure. However, she cannot protect herself from it no matter how hard she tries. It's just something that comes with an obedient nature...
Emotional ~ She's just one of those people that takes everything to heart. It has its perks, but of course, it has even more flaws.
Physically Inept ~ Ophelia has always been frail. No matter how hard she tries to apply herself in staying fit, she never seems to gain any muscle. Her bones snap easier than twigs.

|{Family Tree}
Polonius Sprout // Father // 59.
Serena Sprout // Mother // Deceased.
Laertes Sprout // Brother // 22.

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|{Personality}|

In spirit, Ophelia Sprout is like a pixie among men. With a sweet disposition, jolly outlook on life, and obedience that would make every parent want to take her for their own, no one can really resist the charms of this innocent girl. She is spry and hopeful, believing that anything harmful can be fixed with a bit of peace, tea, and a nice bouquet of flowers. Of course, this can make her seem somewhat annoying to others who take everything super seriously, but alas, her mind is much more complex than she makes it seem. Ophelia is imaginative, but appears cute and quiet to others. She just likes to live simply, and it shows whenever she is forced to make a decision. The fact of the matter is, she makes none. She has been rendered incapable of doing so.

Choosing to live without choices obviously has more weaknesses than benefits. It makes her gullible, powerless, vulnerable to deceit, and open to physical, mental, and emotional attacks. The worst part about it is that she is not strong enough to handle the terrible mistakes she might make due to those flaws. She helps others, but refuses to help herself, so in reality, her lack of choice is her own foolish fault. Of course, one can argue that having a manipulative father and an abusive brother can do quite a bit of harm to a sweet young girl, but while the residents debate about it, they cease all action to prevent its occurrence.

Still, despite her weakness, Ophelia is a pleasure to behold. She's a loyal friend, a talented bouquet-maker, and a wonderful romantic partner. She's everything a person could ask for...but if you ask for her to show you her self-worth, well...that's a story that can never be written.





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|{History}|

Ophelia Sprout's existence came out of the earth like a blossoming rosebud in the midst of scathing thorns. Her childhood was spoiled and sweet, yet scary at the same time. Everyone - friends, family, strangers...would always tell her that she looked and acted like her mother. So when she walked into her parents' bedroom one day only to find her mom's limp corpse dangling from a makeshift noose, she couldn't help but see an image of herself through those dead, green eyes before promptly falling into unconsciousness herself. Her father seemed indifferent to his beloved wife's death. Laertes, well...he just tried to move on.

Her education was an ordinary one. Still, it could have catered more to a creative mind like hers. She'd sing in the hallways, but her pupils would tell her to be silent. She'd paint pretty pictures, but her teachers would reprimand her for not following the instructions of the assignment. Instead of supporting his daughter, Ophelia's dad pointed a long, bony finger at her face, scolding her for not applying herself to the demands of society. The girl learned at a young age that if she stayed obedient and didn't ask questions, people didn't ask anything from her in return.

So for the remainder of her childhood, she looked up to her older brother for advice. After all, he was the favorite child, and always got good grades, friends, and memories. She had a tendency to tag along no matter what he was doing, but he'd always hit her in front of his acquaintances, so she kept her conversations with him to a minimum. After high school, Ophelia's dad wanted her to stay in Verona to help him around the house. So while Laertes got to go study abroad in France, she decided to go find an occupation somewhere around town. Fortunately, the tea shop she loved was hiring. After handing in her rรฉsumรฉ and aicing her interview, she got the job. After that, she knew that that was pretty much it for her dull, exhausting life...

Until she met him.

And then everything changed.

He was gentle, kind, charming, intelligent...and he still is. Of course, her father is still as stubborn as he used to be, and wants her to end the romantic relationship now before her sweetheart becomes destructive towards her later on. His advice could be plausible, but the problem is that she already knows what abuse and manipulation is, and she sees it more in her father than she does in her boyfriend's passionate words. Perhaps she can finally stand up to her patriarch. After all, she knows his big secret...she knows that he is in some sort of strange affair with the new mayor of the town. That mayor happens to be her boyfriend's uncle and stepdad. If that news were to break out, perhaps she could break free. Or it could be the end of her...whatever that information means for her future, she'll just have to wait until she knows for certain what consequence it will bring.





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|{Theme Song}

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Can't make my own decisions
Or make any with precision
Well maybe you should tie me up
So I don't go where you don't want me

You say that I've been changing
That I'm not just simply aging
Yeah how could that be logical?
Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat

You don't have to believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror

If God's the game that you're playing
Well we must get more acquainted
Because it has to be so lonely
To be the only one who's holy

It's just my humble opinion
But it's one that I believe in
You don't deserve a point of view
If the only thing you see is you

You don't have to believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror

This is the last second chance
(I'll point you to the mirror)
I'm half as good as it gets
(I'll point you to the mirror)
I'm on both sides of the fence
(I'll point you to the mirror)
Without a hint of regret
I'll hold you to it

I know you don't believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror

I know you won't believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror



|{Face Claim}
Felicity Jones

Character Dialogue || #41A317



So begins...

Ophelia Sprout's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ophelia Sprout Character Portrait: Romeo Montague Character Portrait: Juliet Capulet Character Portrait: Benedict Cavillor Character Portrait: Claude King Character Portrait: Katherine Minola Character Portrait: Paris Victor Character Portrait: Irving Macbeth Character Portrait: Hamlet, Jr. Character Portrait: Beatrice O'Conelly
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โ—คโ—ฅ
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(presenting a modernization of Shakespeare's classics.)
โ—ฃโ—ข



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A perfect midsummer's day. Perhaps the most perfect midsummer's day the town of Verona had seen in ages.

Claude King sucked the thick, warm air into his nostrils and breathed it out through his mouth. The elements of the park were saccharine, but perfect for an excessively beautiful day such as this one. It stood right in the center of the bustling town, and it was almost shameful not to plan something in such a wonderful, flawless area.

So with a snap of his fingers, Claude commanded his many attendants to step forward. "Fellas," he crowed, "I think we've found our spot. It's time to start decorating."

With that, the group of men nodded, and busted into action. While most of the craftsmen got to work hanging streamers, balloons, and lanterns throughout the trees, a corpulent man named Nicholas Bottom spent his time carefully hammering a colorful sign into the park's grassy sod. It read...

~ A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S FESTIVAL ~
Come join the festivity from 6-10 pm!
Food, dancing, music, a performance by our acting trope, and a fun time for all!


With a cool glass of lemonade in his right hand, Claude readjusted his aviator sunglasses and gazed upon the soon-to-be masterpiece of the Midsummer Night's Festival - his own idea, and an event he presumed the entire town had been waiting for for months. Why such little notice for such an anticipated festival? The answer was quite simple...

Verona, quite frankly, was in chaos. Not in economic chaos, nor in chaos with another town or the state of Pennsylvania itself, but in emotional chaos. The residents these days seemed...uneasy. The morale of the people was low and terribly depressing. Why, even his own stepson, Hamlet Jr., was sulking in the shadows. What the small town needed was a gigantic pick-me-up. A simple smile in the midst of darkness. This festival would lift the mood, create new bonds, and make bold, valuable memories. It was extravagant, yes, but that was would Verona was supposed to be. After all, a little party never hurt nobody. What could go wrong?

After taking a long swig of lemonade from his glass, Claude grabbed some cards advertising the event, and began to hand them out to passersby, saying, "Come one and come all! Hope to see you there!"




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"Hello miss! Would you like-"

Before Ophelia Sprout could finish her sentence, the lady shot past her, not even grabbing the beautiful rose that the girl was holding out to her for free. Handing out flowers with tags on them to random strangers in order to promote the Midsummer Night's Festival was more work than it actually seemed. Still, Ophelia had to do it, or else her father would never let her back inside the house.

"Oh! Sir! Are you interested in-"

Just like the woman, the man scooted right past Ophelia, not even bothering to hear what her mousy voice had to utter.

She gazed down at the ground , then at the red, orange, and purple roses in her hands. This task was hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. If only she had a louder voice...then maybe people would hear her.

Birds sweetly chirping in the breeze, Ophelia calculatingly glanced to her left, then to her right. Slowly and gingerly, she placed the flowers down onto the sidewalk. She looked left and right once more, and then out of nowhere, broke out into a sprint.

Immediately she felt guilty for disobeying her father's orders, but once she saw the swarm of children crowd around the puddle of flowers, her doubts disappeared. He'd never know about what she really did if she just lied, but of course, Ophelia was a terrible liar, so that would never work.

If only her father wasn't so...commanding. Perhaps if he didn't have such a big job in the town and were just like everyone else, then maybe he wouldn't be so strict and mean all the time. After all, he was always getting into things that he didn't need to be getting into...like his daughter's relationship with her boyfriend.

It was all so confusing, and she didn't want to think about it right now. She just wanted to go to the park and chill underneath her favorite willow tree. So with speedy steps, that's exactly what she did. A beautiful river nearby, Ophelia plucked a stone from the ground below, and tossed it into the murky pool. The stone skipped across the water's surface, and she closed her eyes. She wished for happiness, health, and a wonderful summer.

And then like a child, she dropped to the ground, staring up at the clouds and humming the first tune that came to mind. Today would be a good day, and she knew it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ophelia Sprout Character Portrait: Paris Victor
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Paris held a steady gaze on the girl handing out flowers through the finder of his Canon. He had a perfect shot from the bench across the street. His finger pushed the button halfway down, blurring and bringing into focus the vivid sunset colors of the roses. The shutter clicked just as a man bustled past her. Checking the image playback, he knew exactly what he would do with the image when he got the chance: paint the man and the background, outline flower girl in gold. When he looked up from the display screen, flower girl was gone, a colorful pile left in her place.

He didn't look either way as he crossed the street to the roses, trusting that even if a car showed up it would stop for him. He had noticed that the street didn't seem to get a lot of automobile traffic. Instead, the people of Verona tended to walk as far as Paris had observed. Written on the paper tag of an orange rose he picked out of the pile was an announcement for one of those pretentious small town festivals that popped up in every little village that had any semblance of a history and buildings with ivy on them.

Still, he thought, food.

He resolved himself to go, even if only to scope out the scene and the people before the photograph competition.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ophelia Sprout Character Portrait: Romeo Montague Character Portrait: Juliet Capulet Character Portrait: Katherine Minola Character Portrait: Paris Victor Character Portrait: Hamlet, Jr. Character Portrait: Beatrice O'Conelly
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There was a familiar figure heading down the winding path in front of her. Waist-length hair, small stature, and confident walk...none other than the town's sharpest wit.

"Trixy!" Ophelia shouted, jogging over to the twenty-year-old and wrapping her long arms around her. Even if she had never talked to Beatrice, Ophelia would have greeted her the same. To the innocent girl, everyone was a friend.

She giggled and grinned, pushing tendrils of wispy brown hair behind her ears. "How are you? I'm assuming you are coming to the festival tonight, right? It's such a wonderful day out!" Perhaps Beatrice was brash and blunter than a rubber mallet when asked about her opinion on a particular subject or whenever she was forced to hear the heartbreaking backstories of he drunkards that resided at the pub. Still, she could be warm and generous, and if you really got on her good side, she was known to be a very protective friend.

Still, the town knew her for other reasons. Ophelia gazed down at the grass. There was something else that she had to ask Beatrice. Quite a touchy subject, but an important one...

"So...are you still fighting with him?" she quietly muttered, trying not to use any negative inflections. Perhaps Beatrice was quite plain-spoken, but there was only one person in the town who she truly hated. That person was the prideful Benedict Cavillor. Ever since he had come back to Verona, the two would not stop shooting harmful taunts at each other. It was like a war, only their weapons consisted of words.

While she awaited Beatrice's response and kept an attentive ear on whatever she had to say, Ophelia pulled out her purple iphone and scrolled through her list of contacts. There were a couple messages she needed to send.

The first one was for her boyfriend...

[ To: Hamlet <3 ]
[ From: Ophelia ]
{ Do you want to go to the festival tonight? Your stepdad decided that its going to be held in the park. }

The second was for her two friends...

[To: Romeo, Juliet]
[From: Ophelia]
{ Will the secret star-crossed lovers be attending the festival tonight? :) }

Finished, Ophelia looked up from her phone screen, noticing Katherine Minola, as well as the traveler man, Paris Victor, in the distance. She pointed her index finger at them, showing them to Beatrice, and smiled.

"Should we go say hello?" she asked. Of course Ophelia wouldn't be able to muster up the courage to go up to the two young adults herself. One part of her didn't want to be rude and leave Beatrice behind, while another part of her lacked the independence to do so.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ophelia Sprout Character Portrait: Romeo Montague Character Portrait: Juliet Capulet
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#, as written by Hypnos
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      Think not of life of what it could be but rather as it is, and one will find themselves in a much happier state than he had been previously. Despite hours and hours weeping over love lost Romeo, dear Romeo, found a star much more brilliant than the comet that had left the inky black sky with streaks of gold and silver - only to disappear in front of him. True he had wept, and wept he did, but the bright angel spoke to him with words that could sweeten a tart and lifted his poor soul out of the shackles known as unrequited love.

      Ah, but had it been love or merely a fancy - knowing that the one person he wanted to obtain was the one girl he couldnโ€™t have? Not a game per say, but rather an observation into his own mind and it is only with trial and error can one come to a conclusion. The results had be skewed for the girl he had wanted loved not him, but rather another man of a different breed. A more familiar type of man he was, but Romeo was never one to judge too harshly for he knew love had no boundaries. As proven with his now on going devotion to the girl he swore would be his last. Juliet. How sweet the name rolls off his tongue, and yet something forbidden makes him crave more. Was she subject number two? Romeo shook his head no at such blasphemy.

      It was love at first sight and how fast did his heart drop only to crawl into her awaiting, gentle hands. And yet she refused to give him hers - at first that was.

      A message from his dear friend Ophelia brought him out of his musings and while he would have loved to go on about his woe he thought it to be too rude to ignore such a kind indentation.

      { To: Juliet โค , Ophelia โ˜€}
      {From: Romeo }

      { Of course, youโ€™ll be sure to have me in your attendance.}


      Romeo knew from the moment he met Juliet that though she may be naive in some aspects she was anything but the submissive little girl he had always thought her to be. Kind and gentle did her heart bleed, but stubbornness was a trait he knew not how to get rid of. Of course though he would never think of changing his Juliet.

      โ€Do birds still sing in the face of fear?โ€ he thought suddenly as though being reminded of their situation at hand. Of course he knew the outcome should Julietโ€™s father ever hear of their relationship, but Romeo often wonders would he - no, could he - still say โ€˜I love herโ€™ when met with the glaring disapproval of both his father and hers?

      He wished not to think about it, but knew that reality to be too much of a possibility to ignore. Should the day come where he would have to chose between Juliet and a life of wealth - in safety Romeo would like to think heโ€™d die for her. Then again, he reminded himself, โ€œdo not burn bridges before I even get there.โ€

      .-.-.-.-.

      He spent the next few minutes to wander and ponder over thoughts he were too grim for a night such as this. And it was only when the sounds of the city were replaced with the humming of birds and tree branches falling did he notice how far he had wandered.

      With nothing to lose - but poor Juliet - he ventured into the woods where he knew the Festival would be held at, after all the town was glued by tradition.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ophelia Sprout Character Portrait: Benedict Cavillor Character Portrait: Beatrice O'Conelly
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_______________๏ผด๏ฝˆ๏ฝ… ๏ผณ๏ฝ๏ฝŒ๏ฝ„๏ฝ‰๏ฝ…๏ฝ’_______________
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______"ฮนฦ’ ฯƒฮทโ„“ัƒ ฯ‰ั” ฯ‰ั”ัั” ะฒัฮฑฮฝั” ั”ฮทฯƒฯ…gะฝ ั‚ฯƒ โ„“ฮนฮฝั” ั‚ะฝั” โ„“ฮนฮฝั”ั• ฯ‰ั” ั•ั‚ฯƒโ„“ั”."

_______________________โˆ‚ฮนฮฑโ„“ฯƒgฯ…ั” cฯƒโ„“ฯƒัโœง#a7a97f
_______________________ั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…gะฝั‚ cฯƒโ„“ฯƒัโœฆ #90a797
_________________________________outfit

As it turns out, military habits are not very easy to abandon. Despite the fact that there were no orders being shouted in his face, Ben arose from his bed at precisely 5:00. Not a second late. He wondered if any of the commanders knew that all their yelling and shouting was officially pointless; all the soldiers would wake on their own after a month.

Naturally, there was little to be done at five in the morning. The sun's rays were just barely touching the horizon, and for the most part, the sleepy town of Verona was still enveloped in darkness.

So Ben didn't do anything. For a good twenty minutes, he remained lying down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as he watched the blades spin round and round. After those twenty minutes, which he found to be insufferable, he decided he couldn't waste away the day lying in bed. The Ben of his youth could, this he knew with certainty, but things had changed. He had become too accustomed to being active, to being in continual motion; if not here, then over there, moving always with a purpose. He was sure his commander meant well, granting him a leave to go home for a while in honor of his recent promotion to captaincy, but he wasn't quite sure how the gift was panning out yet. He loved being home, he did, but something about it didn't feel quite right. Honestly, if he wasn't at work, he didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

With great effort, he trudged over to the kitchen area of the small cabin he was subletting and brewed himself a coffee. Then, with another bout of effort, he dragged his feet over to his suitcase, (he hadn't unpacked despite having been moved in for a month now; another example of how military habits die hard) and pulled on some jogging shorts and an old ratty t-shirt. He downed the coffee, black, with little effort. He'd be needing it. And with that, he tossed the mug in the kitchen sink, grabbed his headphones, and set out for a nice run through the woods.

By the time he returned, the sun was already high above him, and his phone told him it was very near to noon. At least now there'd be life in the town. So he decided that after a quick shower and some lunch, it'd be more than appropriate to head into the town center. Once he was out and fed, it was a good deal later than it was when he had returned, so out into the woods he ventured once more. This time, it was the path that led to town that he traveled on, arriving fairly quickly to where it was he needed to be. Indeed, the town center was alive with people heading to and fro and ducking into stores here and there and... oh? A group of people working in the park caught his eye, and he ambled over to the sign stuck in the dirt near their work area. A festival. That sounded lovely. And it wasn't as if he had very much else to do.

Further away, near the edge of the lake, something else caught his eye. Or rather, someone else. Two people, in fact, and both, he decided, were people he definitively needed to be around exactly at this moment. The taller girl, who had recently wrapped the shorter girl in a quick embrace, was pulling out her phone and tapping away messages. Benedict arrived at her side just as she was putting it away.

"Afternoon, Phelia," he shot a lazy grin in the pixie-faced girl's direction. He liked Ophelia; she was endearingly sweet. Turning to Beatrice, he nodded his head almost mockingly seriously in greeting. "Lady Disdain." He turned back to Ophelia, a sinless smile curving his lips. "Hear there's gonna be a festival in town tonight. You planning on attending?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ophelia Sprout Character Portrait: Benedict Cavillor Character Portrait: Katherine Minola Character Portrait: Beatrice O'Conelly
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XXXThe sun felt good. With so much time being indoors. Studying or working, she didn't have the luxury of going on nice walks like this. She forgot how much she even liked being outside. Whenever someone was to ask what Beatrice did in her free time, she'd reply with "what free time". Her supposed free time was catching up on sleep, or reading some Agatha Christie on her Kindle. Her taste in genres were typically only murder mysteries, or mysteries in general. Beatrice did however, manage to find a way to read the Harry Potter books along with Lord of the Rings.
XXXSo distracted by the blasting of her music, and the content clearing of her head - she didn't see or hear Ophelia running to meet her with a hug. The contact startled her, and she was close to elbowing whoever it was. When she saw it was Ophelia she let out a sigh of relief, patting the hands that were around her awkwardly. She took out the headphone, wrapping it around the edge of her ear before looking to her.
XXX"Ophelia, a pleasure to see you" she spoke, her tone coming out more sarcastic than originally intended. She let out a cough to clear her voice for any conversation that would occur.
XXXShe hadn't ever really talked to Ophelia. They had their run ins, but she hadn't ever had time. Ophelia wasn't the kind of girl she saw hitting the bar scene, and if she was - she had never seen her at the pub. Ophelia in her eyes, was almost too sweet for this world. So gentle, so untouched it seemed. She wished she were the same. Beatrice smiled at the girl.
XXX"I'm alright. My first real day out in awhile so I'm intent of enjoying it. I should be going to the festival tonight. Working after though" she told her as they walked.
XXX"Are you? You could meet up with Hero and I. Wait, no, you're probably going with your boyfriend?" she questioned before a question was brought her way. The question was one she didn't expect, especially from her. The relationship between her and Benedict wasn't something typical. Long ago, she was vulnerable, and that vulnerability was a mistake. She got hurt, by him. Since them she gave him a cold shoulder, and he didn't seem to care, giving her the same speech she gave him. The only was she could tolerate whatever it was they were, was that he matched her wit.
XXX"You sound like we're dating. Fighting sounds nasty. We just don't like one another is all" she explained as easily as she could. When Ophelia offered to go say hello to Katherine and Paris she nodded. "Sure. Don't know them well either. Though Paris does come into the bar every so often"
XXXAs they begun to walk towards the other party, she heard a familiar voice, and then saw a familiar figure. He greeted Ophelia like any person would, and then her nick name - Lady Disdain. She only rolled her eyes.
XXX"Disdain can live easily when it has you to keep it alive" she retorted casually, before continuing her words. "Sir Pompous, you can transform even courtesy to disdain with your presence alone. You should feel honored"

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Character Portrait: Ophelia Sprout Character Portrait: Romeo Montague Character Portrait: Juliet Capulet
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"Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead."

-Oscar Wilde




Her eyes moved at an incredible speed from left to right, devouring every word written by Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Grey. Her hands held the book close to her, the pages were already worn out and the book's hardcover had dents. Despite she did her best to care for all of her books as one would care for something precious, it was an inevitable occurrence especially after how many times she'd read each and every one of them. Indeed, anyone who loved to read would know they were simply signs that almost all of her books were tremendously loved by young Juliet. The young woman had long since lost count of how many times she had read the novel as she had with many other books, but she didn't care to count for any of them anymore as she once did. Although she had started reading the novel an hour earlier, she was already just a few pages away from reaching the end.

As soon as she read the last sentence contained in her worn out book, Juliet's thoughts shifted from the tragedy of Dorian Gray to thoughts of her beloved Romeo. Their romance had broken every boundary known to her, going against the odds and simply plunging into the deep fires of passion. Oh what a great tragedy it was when she learned her soulmate and greatest love was none other than the one she was supposed to hate the most. Although she had been reluctant at first to cave into temptation at his loving gaze, she knew she had been lost the moment their eyes plunged deeply into one another. She did not care to know of a life without Romeo and would rather die than to ever know of such great tragedy. Neither did she dare to forget of the consequences of their love and what chaos would be unleashed were her parents ever to find out. And even though Romeo could be rather clingy to the point of being a bit overwhelming for the unexperienced girl Juliet was, she knew nothing but to love her Romeo for a long as she could.

Lost in thoughts was the young girl when her her sweet friend Ophelia sent her a message. Her phone's notification was completely ignored by the ever-so-daydreaming Juliet who had abandoned the tangible Earth to enter the abstract realms of her complex mind. It wasn't until she felt a slight nudge on her right shoulder that she was brought back to reality.

"Julieta, It's time for you to get ready for the festival dear." Juliet's nanny, Helena, hastened the young girl.

Although Helena's intentions were driven by her patrons, Juliet's parents, who wanted their daughter to attend the event with ulterior motives. Given Juliet's suitor would also be attending the Midsummer Night's Festival. Helena also wanted for her dear Juliet to enjoy herself at the Festival. Juliet finally nodded still a bit dozed off taking her time to transition back into real life. Had it not been because Romeo would be at the festival, Juliet would have hardly cared and would have seen suspected of her loving nanny's real intentions. Regardless, any time she'd get to spend with her lover was a time well spent. Without further haste, she checked her phone to see the time only to see the Ophelia's message and replied without further haste.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
{ To: Amore Mioโค, Ophelia }
{ From: Juliet }

{ Count me in! I wouldn't miss it for the world. }
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


As soon after she sent the message, Juliet stood up and hastily hurried to place it on one of her many massive bookshelves in order to begin getting ready for the festival. Although she didn't care much for material possessions and choose to live as normally as possibly without constantly reminding herself of her parent's overwhelming status and wealth. Having her own library was something she had allowed herself to indulge with.
...

After she ventured deep into the woods, she immediately hoped to see her Romeo awaiting for her only to be caught off guard after seeing him from afar. Beyond doubt, she immediately recognized his back from a distance and was now determined to sneak up on her lover. The young woman carefully walked slowly and steadily behind him and only when he was at arms reach did she hug him from behind lovingly.

"Found you." Juliet whispered holding onto her Romeo with a devious smile drawn upon her lips.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ophelia Sprout Character Portrait: Benedict Cavillor Character Portrait: Katherine Minola Character Portrait: Paris Victor Character Portrait: Beatrice O'Conelly
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Momentarily distracted by the conversation just out of earshot, Paris turned only to discover the most perfect human he'd ever set eyes on had sneaked up behind him. She was clutching one of the roses from the pile, and though she wasn't exactly frowning at the moment, he could tell she did so more often than not. Her clothes, while casual, were clearly those of someone with expensive taste, and her entire demeanor was lukewarm at best.

Paris had seen beautiful people from around the world, even more beautiful than the woman holding the rose--though to give an example would be impossible at the moment--but none he'd ever met had ever seemed so exactly his type.

Holy shit, he thought. He couldn't believe he hadn't met her yet. He'd been in Verona for over a week, and he thought he'd met everyone and their mother. Regardless, he knew immediately that she was exactly what he was looking for: rich, gorgeous, and bitter as hell.

"Hello," he greeted, sticking his hand out and giving his cockiest grin. "I'm Paris, and you are?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ophelia Sprout Character Portrait: Benedict Cavillor Character Portrait: Katherine Minola Character Portrait: Paris Victor Character Portrait: Beatrice O'Conelly
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__"ฮน ะฝฮฑโˆ‚ ฮฑ ะฝฯƒโ„“ั” ฮนฮท ะผัƒ ะฝั”ฮฑัั‚ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฮน ฯ‰ฮฑั• โ„“ฯƒฯƒะบฮนฮทg ฦ’ฯƒั ฮฑ ฯฮนั”cั” ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฦ’ฮนั‚."
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It was always interesting to walk through the town. She could see in people's body language what they were feeling, what they were thinking, and it was all just so fascinating. She was half tempted to abandon her walk and just take a seat on the park bench for some people watching. It was a quality past-time, and though it certainly wasn't as interesting as "reality" TV, the fabrication of the shows made them boring for her to sit through. She preferred the truth in all matters of the world.

Not so far away from her location, she saw the ever-engaging Benedict Cavillor approach the resident fairy child and bartender. She had been friends with Benedict in her childhood, the smallness of Verona allowing their age difference to be negligible. She supposed they were still friendly on some level, but things now were much, much different than they were when they were children.

Ophelia, on the other hand, was someone she had never really been all too close to. She was something of a dream, too unattainable, too pure for this world, and even as a much more agreeable child, it had intimidated her. Now, as an adult, it just made her uncomfortable. Ophelia's kindness made her feel almost guilty, and she much preferred to not have to deal with those feelings. Beatrice looks annoyed at Ben's presence, and Ben's wicked grin told Kat she had every right to be. She was far from Beatrice's friend, hadn't spoken to her much really, but she did admire the girl's quick mind and blunt honesty. If Kat had anything more than acquaintances, she's sure she'd like Beatrice to be one of those friends. Absentmindedly, she rubbed the soft waxy petals of the rose in her hand.

Then, suddenly, there was a body at her side tearing her away from her thoughts. The face she found herself staring at was attractive, certainly, but there was a smugness in his smile that put her off immediately. The facade of "charming" he had placed on seemed fake, forced. Instantly, she was suspicious of his motives for approaching her. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched his mouth move, hearing his name as her eyes darted down to his now outstretched hand. There was a beat as she merely looked at his hand, an eyebrow raised. Then slowly, making sure to convey the reluctance, she reached out and grasped his hand, shaking firmly and strongly, the way her father used to tell her businessmen would respect.

"Katherine," she answered, as coldly as possible without being outright rude, "to those that have any business using my name." It was far from subtle, and she hoped her chilling introduction was enough to dissuade him from attempting any further conversation as she turned on her heel and continued on in the direction she had been going in.