For shame. However it appears that me writa' has gone an' pulled me out of Tenebrae Nostro because she is busy with other story lines that required bringin' back some other characters over there. She promises me, however, that once that is finished up in some months, she will drag me back even though it is simply not the same without Mr. Todd there. Not to mention that I don't find meself properly suited to the modern world. Ah, well.

For now, she 'as applied me in Charloft because she realises that she can't get rid of me an' Victorian London out 'er 'ead. Awww. Poor thing. Here's a lovely meat pie for it.

Is there is a reason why half of the people I friended just suddenly vanished off my flist along with some communities I belonged to? I never deleted them and they are still there. And as far as I know, they did not take me off their lists. Sooooo.....wot the 'ell?

Anyway, sorry to those I'm havin' to friend again.

Interesting little conversation people were having here about whether Mrs. Lovett had known whether she was going to die in the last scene when Sweeney Todd discovered his wife's body. I totally would have pulled a "oh, crap! Is THAT Lucy? OMG, what did YOU do? OMG *sob* I they told me she was gone! *Dry heave for dramatic effect...cue waterworks* Yes sir, that is what I would have done.

I, personally, think that she went a little delusional and mad there in the end.

Anyway, the conversation is here. I think I like what they were saying about the script. Might have to take a look at it then.

An' that part about me imaginary friends is just cruel. Not supposed to make fun of people with mental tenderness. *taps head*

( This is getting silly now )

The video is on youtube here

She was irreparably modest in that painful way that innocent looking youthful women were shamefully mistaken for virgins no matter how many men they had between the folds of their delicate human fabric. Judge Turpin only had to look at her from the shadows before his human familiar swiftly moved forward to claim her for his master.

"Poor thing. Innocent, she is. Little good that'll do 'er in 'ere." The bloated shadow of the beadle crept over the slick stone walls as the gaslight lantern flickered maddeningly in alarm. Tired brown eyes peered listlessly around the cramped prison cell as Mrs. Lovett tucked her frizzy curls behind her petite ear. She was so tired that she hadn't the strength to cover her mouth with a hand gloved in a gray woolen mitten that was eaten through some places with wear. "You alright there, Mr. Dullard?" She greeted the viral old street merchant whose knees quaked together from having to stand in a cramped room for several hours. A wave of forgotten humanity stood pressed together in its filthy rags. Rags whose collars were blackened in an oily stain of poverty. The key turned in the rusty lock and the door creaked open forcing a rush of fresher air to burst through the din of raspy breaths starved for oxygen.

( Read more... )

Originally posted to tenebrae_nostro RP community

Those poor and unclean unfortunates who felt the touch of cholera, gentle bout of consumption or perhaps the possessive arms of plague, were lucky enough to be lulled into the motherly comfort of death’s embrace. Otherwise, death came slowly and ravaged the young and old from the inside out, feeding on their intestines and turning them a leprous dull gray and green with sieve-like holes that dripped waste into the body like a leaky hose. Arsenic, Laudenum and Opium were all heavenly demons that twisted the soul into a picturesque dream, where the rot surrounding one from leaky roofs and damp, human stained, yellowed mattresses turned into gilded walls of gold. How many had lost their lives chasing the red dragon? It was a slithery beast disguised in shiny red scales that stripped good men of their socially sculpted refinement and turned them into Dorianesque creatures with the twisted aggression of Mr. Hyde. At the end of this pit of moral depravity lay of wasteland of souls, confined to hell no matter whether their station in life alloted them soft silks or rough twine fibers. Gin Lane was at the depths of the devil's trough.

Title: St. Dunstan's Secrets
Fandom: Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Characters: Nellie Lovett and Sweeney Todd
Prompt: Gothic Church (picture)
Word Count: 847
Rating: PG-13
Summary/Notes: Using some the original details from the legend of Sweeney Todd from “String of Pearls”, Mrs. Lovett freaks out when officials start sniffing around St. Dunstan’s church. Literally.

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