31 Plays in 31 Days, #30 - "Psyop"

[breakinglight11]

I have a policy of not reposting later drafts of scenes originally generated for a previous 31P31D. I have posted other sections of Mrs. Frost's interrogation of Nathaniel before, so even though they are vastly, vastly different at this point in the piece's development, they still violate that rule. This piece, however, is not the direct descendant of any previous piece, so I'm going to use it.

This feeds into at least the current version of 2017's Day #8 - "From the Queen's Archive." Bleh. Caught up now. Just one more to go.

Day #30 - "Psyop"
From Mrs. Frost
By Phoebe Roberts

NATHANIEL HAWKING, a society gentleman, apprentice society avenger, early thirties
ELIZABETH FROST, a criminal mastermind, early fifties
ROLAND DAVIES, Mrs. Frost's hatchet man, early twenties

London, England, 1886
~~~

(NATHANIEL dresses in clothes that have been left for him. He struggles to tie the necktie. MRS. FROST and ROLAND enter.)

MRS. FROST:

Having trouble? I suppose you don’t often do that yourself.

(She takes the tie and does it for him.)

MRS. FROST:

You know, you’re not the spitting image, whatever they say. He was broader in the shoulders, I think, and deeper in the chest. A war horse, rather than a thoroughbred. But that face… is just as anyone could remember it. Every lady in London must be giving you the glad eye.

NATHANIEL:

...I couldn’t speak to that.

MRS. FROST:

You are quite the catch, though; surely you must see that. Looks, money, good name in this city. Lovely wife, darling children. It’s enough to make anyone wonder— why ever do you do this?

NATHANIEL:

What?

MRS. FROST:

All this— these would-be heroics, scrambling after Mrs. Hawking as she leaps from roof to roof.

NATHANIEL:

To do good in the world. To help people. Is that so hard for you to imagine?

MRS. FROST:

Not at all; I suppose a decent young man like you has always had a touch of the knight errant. It's why you enlisted a few years back, wasn't it?

(She looks through her file until she finds a picture.)

MRS. FROST:

Look here, your first military uniform! Heh, I don’t know why I said “first.” Wasn’t as if there was a second, now, was there?

NATHANIEL:

It happened that I wasn't cut out for it.

MRS. FROST:

Whatever went wrong?

NATHANIEL:

Why do you ask what you already know?

MRS. FROST:

I'd like to hear how you saw it.

NATHANIEL:

(Sighing) They lashed me to a desk in the armory, and I thought if I was going to do nothing but account books, I might as well do the ones at home.

MRS. FROST:

Well. We can't all be heroes. There are not many men like your uncle. But I suppose you've finally found your talent— clearly you're better at all this than you ever were at soldiering.

ROLAND:

Heh. Not good enough, if he's here.

MRS. FROST:

(Laughing) Fair point! But enough that Mrs. Hawking has kept him around.

NATHANIEL:

No mean feat, if I may say.

MRS. FROST:

I'm sure! Tell me, what does your wife think of this work at which you’ve been so diligent?

NATHANIEL:

She couldn't be prouder.

MRS. FROST:

Ha! Well, you said that so quickly it can't possibly be true. But I suppose she can't be too cross— after all, we know what you do with anyone’s disapproval.

NATHANIEL:

What does that mean?

MRS. FROST:

Only that you hound after them and beg until you're back in their good graces.

NATHANIEL:

Oh, for heaven's sake.

MRS. FROST:

I understand if you’re not used to it! From everything I gather, you've always been rather the golden boy. Until recently, that is. Mrs. Hawking is quite hard on you, isn't she?

NATHANIEL:

The work she does demands it. I can take it like a man.

MRS. FROST:

Still. I doubt she's exactly generous with praise.

NATHANIEL:

I don't do it for the praise.

MRS. FROST:

Don't you?

NATHANIEL:

I beg your pardon?

MRS. FROST:

Not that you don't mean well. But honestly, dear boy, there are ways to do good that don't risk your life and ask you to bear anger like hers. That don't set you against the rest of your family. And for what? A moment's regard? Why do you need that so badly?

NATHANIEL:

I— wouldn't expect you to understand.

MRS. FROST:

It's rather sad, if you ask me. A fine young man like you, hanging so much of himself on someone else's word. Especially when it won’t come to anything.

NATHANIEL:

You don't know anything about it.

MRS. FROST:

Indeed? When you and I have both seen it happen before?

(Pause.)

MRS. FROST:

You and the Colonel were very close, weren’t you?