crib on wheels

anonymous asked:

can't pick a particular snippet but any commentary you have on the musical itself from Stars & Stripes would be awesome!

Who is Captain America? – Sarah Rogers, Peggy Carter, Dr. Erskine, Howard Stark, Bucky Barnes, Rebecca Barnes, USO Girls, Howling Commandos

So this big opening number I imagine to be fairly similar to “Alexander Hamilton.” Everyone but Steve is on stage and talking about who he was to them (in the vein of “We fought with him, I died for him, We loved him, etc”). It also introduces the gulf between the myth of Captain America and the person they all knew.


My Darling Boy - Sarah Rogers

I like to imagine that this number carries us all the way through Steve’s childhood. So it opens with a spotlight on Sarah standing over a crib, and then when the first verse ends, the spotlight goes out and the crib is wheeled off and Sarah is singing out the window to where the audience is meant to understand that Steve is playing on the street. Then the second verse ends, the spot dims again, and Sarah’s at Steve’s bedside when he’s sick. I imagine the song itself to sound something like “Dear Theodosia”–sweet and positive, but with an undercurrent of worry, first about Steve’s father, then about their financial situation, and then about Steve’s health.

The 107th (Rejected/Drafted) - Bucky, Steve, Rebecca

Bucky enters first, singing about getting drafted, and putting on a brave face whenever an ensemble member crosses his path as he makes his way down the street in search of Steve. He breaks up Steve’s alley brawl (as in CA: TFA) and tells him the news (I imagine this part to be spoken instead of sung) and then the scenery fades into the background and the boys are lit alternately by spotlights as they each sing a verse. Bucky about being afraid but determined, and worried about Steve and his sister, then Steve about being jealous and determined to find his own way to join the fight. Then I imagine a final verse where the boys’ voices intertwine and overlap as the walk off-stage (Bucky to war and Steve to the recruitment office) and Rebecca takes their place, functioning like a Greek Chorus and telling the audience about Bucky’s last night at home.

Welcome to the USO - USO Girls, Steve
Star Spangled Man (The Army’s Dancing Monkey) - the USO Girls, Steve

These two numbers rely heavily on Classic musicals and old school Hollywood films: the fixed smiles and hair on all the USO Girls, the tap shoes, the over-bright lights. “Welcome to the USO” is Steve’s introduction to all the girls and the script and the dancing. For an idea, listen to “Knights of the Roundtable” from Spamalot, which also has an instrumental dance break where I imagine a few of the girls trying to teach Steve the tap steps–he’s clumsy and blushing and his rhythm is off, they’re amused and fake-frustrated and teasing him mercilessly. “Star Spangled Man” would take cues from the original song (although given copyright issues, would have to be quite different) and the girls take the Official Propaganda lines and perform them as if in a show to the troops while Steve sings over them (The Army’s Dancing Monkey) about how frustrated he is and how wasteful it seems to keep him performing, thus setting the stage for Act 2.

The End of the Line - Steve

Honestly, just go listen to “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” and picture Steve spotlit at the center of a busy army camp, utterly alone and isolated until Peggy comes along and ushers him off stage. This never fails to make me cry like a baby.

You Were Meant for More (Reprise) - Peggy

“Burn” from Hamilton is a good sub for this (or “Lament” from Into the Woods). I want it to be kind of nostalgic and sad, but with moments of anger too. I think Darcy would be very hesitant to make Peggy seem too delicate, in a way. There’s an obvious pain and vulnerability needed for something like this, but I just can’t imagine there not being a moment or two where Peggy is just angry–at Steve, and the world, and fate.


His Story (Where is Steve Rogers?) - Peggy, Rebecca, USO Girls, Sarah Rogers, Howling Commandos, Howard Stark

So this is really the moment where “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” comes into play. Every one of the people who actually provide the documentation that make up the historical record for Steve Rogers take their turn. Sarah sings lines from her journals, and the rest of them sing lines from their interviews. But then Sarah, Peggy, and Rebecca start reacting to ensemble members singing lines from the later propaganda campaigns and bios that they disagree with (the “Where is Steve Rogers?” component). Almost like, where is Steve Rogers in all of this? Who will remember the man behind the shield? 


So that was…a lot. And I hope it helps the show come to life a bit!

And if anyone else wants in on this or has questions about this rambling mess, pop into my inbox!

palewanker  asked:

You don’t have to be a parent to understand the horror of walking into a room to discover that the baby crawled out of his crib and onto that pottery wheel you forgot to turn off. And while the baby is spinning around and around, the dog is sitting there all calm, like a person, gently using his paws to fashion the baby’s soft cartilage head into something a little more modern. It might be the classic tale of bad parenting, but let’s see where the dog is going with this. What is this about?

This is one of those cautionary tales that I wrote when I realized that some people are probably conflicted about who they need to love and support more: dogs or babies. I personally have neither so I think it helps me to remain a neutral party and to share an honest, analytical perspective.

I really do hope that helps and if it doesn’t, let’s not worry about it. I have a friend in town tomorrow and I need to focus on constructing a sound, manageable itinerary. 

Preference Request- You're in a Coma part 2: You Wake Up

You’re in a Coma pt 2- You Wake Up

You can read the first part here.

  Zayn: Two more days have passed by without you waking up, forty-eight more hours slipping by with Zayn still angry, still lost, and slowly losing hope. He sat by your bed every minute, amber eyes bloodshot as he wonders how long he can keep going like this before he goes completely insane. He sleeps with his arms around himself in that chair, eyes closing for only a few minutes at a time. One night, while absentmindedly tracing patterns into the back of your hand, he suddenly stops when he hears the sheets rustle slightly– and it didn’t come from him. “Oh, my God,” he whispers to himself as he brings his hand up to cup your face, “Come back to me, babe. Open your eyes for me, please.” Soon enough, you do, and Zayn immediately crushes you to his side, tears of relief dripping from his eyes. He pulls away a few seconds later, though, taking a few steps back to look at you as he remembers why you are here. “How could you do this to me?” He asks, slightly angry and harsh, but all that vanishes when he sees your own tears start to stream down your cheeks, and he pulls you back into his arms before he continues. “How could you think even for a second that I would be okay without you. I love you. I love you so much, please don’t you ever forget that.” Niall: “Oh, I will carry you over fire and water for your love,” Niall sings quietly a few days later, blue eyes intently searching your face for any signs of you waking up, as his fingers strum out the tune on the guitar. “And I will hold you close and hope your heart is strong–” Suddenly, the beeping of the heart monitor speeds up, the beeps sounding so close together they almost sound like one long note. His own heart pounding at the thought of something happening to you, Niall presses the call button, and almost immediately, a hoard of doctors and nurses rush in and push him out of the way as they surround your bed. Niall watches on from the corner, fingernails in his mouth and guitar clutched tightly against him. Seconds later, your eyes open, quickly filling with fear at the sight of all the doctors and machines around you. “Ni…” you whimper, clawing at the oxygen mask covering your mouth. Your eyes fly around the room before landing on Niall, and you instantly reach your arms out to him. A huge wave of relief washes over Niall as he pushes his way past the doctors to kneel next to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Deep breaths for me, princess, I’m right here. You’re okay,” Niall’s eyes tear up a bit as he repeats the last sentence in his head, sponging kisses all over your face. You’re okay. Louis: Another week had gone by, and there was still no sign of you waking up soon, and Louis didn’t really know how much longer he can continue on like this. He had lost a substantial amount of weight, his carefree and childlike personality fading away with each day that passed. He had lately taken to squeezing into the bed beside you while he slept, arms around your limp form and cheek resting on top of your head. But it just doesn’t feel right without your soft kisses on his neck, without the whispered “I love you” floating out of your mouth. On one particular night, Louis was having an awful nightmare, one where you didn’t wake up and he was alone. He softly cried in his sleep, subconsciously holding you tighter and tighter against him. Somehow, his tears in your hair and the tightening grip on your waist caused you to slowly wake up, and the first thing you saw was Louis holding onto you for dear life while he cried. Your heart broke, and you reached your arms up to wrap them around his chest, squeezing him just as tightly as he was holding you. You pressed a kiss to his throat, willing him to wake up because your voice wasn’t working yet and you just wanted to see his eyes. Luckily, he does, and when he realizes you are actually holding him and kissing him, his tears immediately turn to tears of relief, because you are finally awake. “I love you.” He croaks into your hair, thanking God that he had given you back to him.   Harry: Ever since his talk with the nurse, he had not let Sutton out of his sight for more than a few minutes at a time. Her small crib was wheeled into your room, although she was almost always held in Harry’s arms, even while they were both sleeping. Now, a few days later, Harry was sleeping in the chair next to your bed, Sutton cradled gently on his chest, close to his heart. This is the sight you wake up to minutes later, your eyes squinting slightly from lack of use. Your lips widen into a small smile, stretching your arms slightly which causes the paper sheets to ruffle. Harry slowly awakens at this, eyebrows furrowed and eyes blinking slowly as he takes in what’s happening. When he finally processes it, his green eyes widen, a quiet gasp leaving his mouth as he leans over to pull you into him with one arm, the other arm keeping Sutton from getting crushed. “You’re awake. Oh, my God,” he breathes, but your focus is only on the tiny baby yawning against Harry’s chest. “Harry, is that…?” You whisper, and Harry smiles as he passes you your daughter. “Yes. She’s been waiting a whole week to meet her mummy. (Y/N), meet Sutton Claire. Our daughter.”Liam: Liam takes a deep breath as he walks through the doors of the hospital exactly six months since you’ve slipped into a coma. Victoria is holding tightly to his hand, her amber eyes wide and somber. When the two of them step into your room and see you still unconscious, Liam’s heart breaks a little more, the doctor’s words echoing in his head. “We normally only give patients five and a half months to wake up. After that, we pull the plug and let them go.” When he had heard that, he almost stopped breathing himself, choking out refusals until the doctor agreed to two more weeks. Now, here you were at six months, and Liam knew what he had to do. He just can’t seem to do it though; not while watching his little daughter cuddle up to you, large tears rolling down her tiny cheeks. He leans over the two of you, pressing kisses to both of your foreheads as his own tears slip down his face. “Daddy, mummy’s finger moved!” Tori suddenly cries, and Liam looks at her in shock before taking your hand in his; and sure enough, your fingers are, slowly but surely, curling around his. “Mummy, wake up, I miss you,” your little girl whispers into your neck, and before Liam knows it, he’s staring into those familiar eyes, relief coursing through his veins as he wraps his arms around his little family. “Thank you.” He whispers into your hair, “Thank you for coming back to us."