#baldrick and elizabeth

[madpatti]

Was In the mood to draw something different so I drew old ocs, and random creatures/animals

#scarface the nightfury #Baldrick and Elizabeth #drawing #fan art #lion #wolf #werewolf #thestral #harry potter #madpatti #httyd #dragon

[rosalie-starfall]

Queen(ie) Elizabeth I

Blackadder II - 1986

#Miranda Richardson #Queenie #Queen Elizabeth I #Blackadder II #Blackadder #my gifs #tv edits #tv : British Sitcom #tv : Comedy #mredits #I've loved Miranda longer than time has had meaning in my life #She is such a treat in this show! #I'll treasure it forever! #Rowan Atkinson #Edmund Blackadder #Tony Robinson #Baldrick #Tim McInnerny #Lord Percy #Stephen Fry #Lord Melchett #Patsy Byrne #Nursie #1986

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

WIP challenge: Snakes and Butterflies sounds interesting! 😁

Hi, thanks for the ask!

Snakes and Butterflies is a crack crossover between The Young Ones and Blackadder. After the TYO episode Time, where the lads are transported to the Middle Ages, they end up bumping into Baldrick and Percy, who are both fleeing the castle after the accidental mass poisoning of the royal family. Eager to get back to the 20th century, but not having a bloody clue how to do it, their problems are complicated further when Henry Tudor seizes the English throne and two young boys - one of whom is the only child of the late Prince Edmund - come to light.

I posted a chapter back in June, intending to work on it during the summer... But, as is the apparently the way whenever I publicly say more fanfic is coming soon, the next chapter isn't here yet. 😂 To be fair to me, uni has been crazy, so I've been writing... Just not for this. But I will at some point! It's a WIP I've had for a good few years, partly inspired by a fan theory about how the Blackadder dynasty continued after the first series. I added The Young Ones in for a bit of fun, and because I like playing with the idea that various characters are related.

Here's a segment from the as yet unfinished Chapter 2: The Snake in the Crib (for context, Baldrick and Percy are dressed as nuns) -

“M-my name is Percy,” Percy told her.

As soon as he said it, his eyes went wide, and Baldrick wished Prince Edmund was still alive to insult him.

“Percy?” Marjorie repeated, brow furrowed. “That’s a very odd name for a girl, isn’t it? Girls are normally called – oh, I don’t know – Elizabeth.”

Percy nodded solemnly. “Or Mary… sometimes Jane.”

He narrowed his eyes again, evidently thinking hard. Marjorie nodded back and ate a spoonful of pottage.

“Yes, or Margaret,” she said, now waving the spoon around. “Or Ann, Agnes, Katherine, Gertrude-”

Baldrick coughed a second time. “Yes, Marjorie, what my friend here meant, of course, is that her name is… her name is…”

Marjorie and Percy both stared at Baldrick expectantly. Baldrick could see the panic swelling in Percy’s eyes. God, where was his quick-wittedness now? It was as if it had abandoned him along with Prince Edmund. He winced under the scrutiny. The lovely, comforting straw was calling to him, sapping at his energy.

“Her name is Percybeth,” Baldrick said.

Percy choked on his pottage.

“Percybeth? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that one before!” Marjorie laughed and placed her hand on top of Percy’s. “What an interesting name you have!”

“Th-thank you, Marjorie,” Percy said.

His cheeks had grown faintly pink, which made a change from the stark white they’d been since the mass poisoning that afternoon. Baldrick wondered if he looked as worn out as Percy did – he certainly felt it.

“And your name?” Marjorie asked him.

Percy was staring at him intently again. Baldrick supposed being surrounded by people with several turnips short of an allotment did have some benefits. He tasted a spoonful of pottage – it was good, didn’t seem overburnt to him; Marjorie was underselling herself – and smiled a wry smile.

“I’m Balderella.”

Here's the first chapter, for anyone who'd like to have a read:

#asks #rjavenuru #wips #fanfic #snakes and butterflies #🐍🦋 #blackadder #the young ones #tyo

[socialoutsider1a]

My thoughts on the characters Hugh Laurie played in Blackadder:

(This also has spoilers for the Blackadder II, Blackadder the Third and Blackadder Goes Forth shows HL appeared in).

*Simon Partridge- Appears in the Blackadder II episode, "Beer", Partridge AKA "Farters Parters" and "Mr. Ostrich" is a notorious loud-mouthed drunk who has a fascination with the word, "bums" while regarding every word as being rude. According to Lord Percy Percy, Partridge is also a fearful oik but halfway through the episode, when it's revealed that Blackadder is drinking water, Partridge is heard growing in anger which implies to me he doesn't being lied to. Simon Partridge is also HL's first ever role in Blackadder.

*Prince Ludwig the Indestructible- Appears in the Blackadder II series finale episode, "Chains", Ludwig is a German master of disguise who as a result of his upbringing is also nicknamed "Shorty Greasy Spot-Spot'", something that enrages him if it's ever mentioned to him. He's also a psychopathic, cunning man capable of changing his entire identity including his gender and the pitch or range of his voice to target his unsuspecting victims. Had his two prison guards abduct Lords Blackadder and Melchett and imprison them in a dungeon while announcing his intention to become King of England. When it's revealed that Queen Elizabeth I or Queenie isn't going to pay the ransom that would see one of the two men being released, Ludwig expresses his disappointment at that and upon Blackadder and Melchett agreeing to play ball with him, he changes their death sentences to life imprisonment. After Ludwig's departure, Blackadder and Melchett successfully outwit the two guards and escaped, arriving back in the UK just in time to expose Ludwig who talks to Queenie who remembers meeting him with Queenie revealing Ludwig's nickname that yet again enraged the German who flees, vowing he'd return and get his "rewengey", only to be stopped by Blackadder who told Ludwig he will die and be buried before throwing a dagger at the other man which either killed or wounded him. Then, after the end credits rolled, it's shown that Ludwig has returned and now disguised as Queenie, murdered the entire court, ending Blackadder II on a very dark note.

*Prince George IV, the Regent- Appearing in Blackadder the Third, Prince George is a bumbling idiot who cares only about himself. He's also very stupid and unable to put on some trousers without assistance. Died at the hands of the Duke of Wellington who unaware Blackadder and George have switched identities, shot George in the chest. After a few minutes, George awakes, believing he's been in possession of a case that had deflected the shot but upon realizing he didn't have it, falls to the ground, now dead for real.

*Lieutenant The Hon. George Colthurst St. Barleigh, MC- Appearing in Blackadder Goes Forth, Lieutenant George is assigned to the trenches with his commanding officer, Captain Blackadder and Private Baldrick. George is at first, oblivious to the war and the fact that he and his squadron would die when they went over the top. In the few minutes of the series finale, though, he admits that he's scared and that he's the last surviving member of his group, even revealing he doesn't want to die. He and his group later go over the top and although their fates aren't revealed, it's presumed that they all die. (Blackadder Goes Forth also gave us HL in drag and I have to say he looks brilliant as Gorgeous Georgina).

#hugh laurie #blackadder ii #blackadder the third #blackadder goes forth

[fancoloredglasses]

Blackadder (British history as told by Rowan Atkinson)

[All images are owned by the BBC. Please don’t sue me]

Blackadder is a British (sit down) historical (sit down!) sitcom (SIT! DOWN!) following the line of descendants of a member of the Royal family (not entirely sure how. In four seasons we’ve only seen or heard of him sleep or become romantically involved with two people: a woman who masqueraded as a man and a man who masqueraded as a woman...now I wonder about his tastes) that all have the same name (and are played by the same actor...much like the descendants of pretty much everyone else)

Each season (or “series” as the Brits call them) is set in a different time period (plus at least 3 one-shot specials, though I’ll only briefly discuss them) so let’s dive into them.

Season 1, simply called “The Black Adder”, is set at the end of the Middle Ages (1485, to be precise) and follows the youngest son of the current King...

...Richard IV (So Mr. Blessed, we meet again!), Prince Edmund.

(Thanks to BBC Studios)

(no clue why he (well, Baldrick)  gave himself that moniker), played by Rowan Atkinson, a lying, sniveling, back-stabbing weasel who would do anything to get the throne ahead of his older brother Harry. Assisting Edmund in his quest are his two friends minions, Baldrick (who would continue as Edmund’s servant/aide in every incarnation) and Percy (both are featured in the clip above. No wonder he never reached the throne!)

For someone assisting such an important person as Prince Edmund, you’d think that Baldrick would invest in a bath now and then (his descendants’ hygiene doesn’t get any better)

King Richard doesn’t think very much of his youngest, often referring to him as “Edgar” and slowly stripping from him his land and title until...well, let’s just say that Edmund does eventually become King (for about 30 seconds) to end the first season. That brings us to Elizabethan era (circa 1558) and...

(Thanks to wikipedia)

This time Prince Edmund the Black Adder has morphed into...

...Lord Edmund Blackadder, trusted advisor to Mad Queen Bess herself...

...Elizabeth I, who seemed to constantly changing her moods and delighting in threatening her closest advisors with execution. Baldrick has returned as Edmund’s manservant, but Percy has been elevated to the Queen’s court (and for whatever reason believes Edmund is his best friend) Also in the court is...

Lord Melchett, the Queen’s spiritual advisor and rival for her favor, played by Stephen Fry. The two were bitter rivals until being forced to work together (of course, afterward they returned to their feud) after being captured by...

...Prince Ludwig of Germany, played by Hugh Laurie.

(Thanks to House Wiki)

Yes, that Hugh Laurie. The producers were apparently impressed enough that Laurie returned in future seasons. Speaking of...

The third season is set during the late 18th to early 19th century, where King George III was unfit to rule, so in his place was...

...the Prince Regent George, played by High Laurie in the first non-descendant returning role. George was pretty much an idiot.

Fortunately (?) for him, once again a Blackadder has weaseled his way into an advisory role...

...along with Baldrick (who had somehow been elected to the House of Commons and appointed to the House of Lords in a single episode!) Sadly, Percy and Melchett do not return this season.

And finally we have...

Set near the end of World War I, this time Captain Edmund Blackadder is the CO of an army platoon in the trenches on the front...

...and will do anything to get away from it! In the trenches with Blackadder are...

...his batman Pvt. Baldrick and...

...his second in command Lt. George Colthurst St. Barleigh (or just George, as no one used his last (or any other) name in the series) in yet another non-descendant role for Hugh Laurie. Their commanding officer, firmly behind them (over thirty miles behind them to be precise, far out of firing range) is...

...General Melchett, who is barking mad (just like every other authority figure in the series...but in this case he pretty much admitted it:)

[Apologies, but I couldn’t find the appropriate clip online, so here’s the script...]

BLACKADDER: I was wondering, after being tortured by the most vicious sadists of the German army, I might be allowed a week’s leave to recuperate, sir?

MELCHETT: Excellent idea! Your commanding officer would have to be stark raving mad to refuse you.

BLACKADDER: Well...you are my commanding officer.

MELCHETT: Well...

BLACKADDER: Can I have a week’s leave to recuperate, sir?

MELCHETT: Certainly not!

BLACKADDER: Thank you, sir.

But Melchett is not alone. Serving as his secretary (and smug in his safety away from the front) is...

...Capt. Darling (played by Tim McInnerny, who previously played Percy. While not even implied, I like to think he’s Percy’s descendant who managed to brown nose his way into a posh assignment)

I should also note (sorry for the spoiler) that in all but one of the series, each Blackadder doesn’t survive his particular series. In this series, I can honestly say he goes out with a bang.

(Thanks to BBC Comedy Greats)

As I mentioned at the start of this review, in addition to the 4 series of Blackadder, there were 3 specials, the first was done to support the British charity Comic Relief...

Blackadder: the Cavalier Years takes place during the British Civil War (1648) in which Blackadder (and Baldrick) are royalists desperately trying to hide King Charles (played by Stephen Fry) from Oliver Cromwell. Blackadder’s plan hinged on one thing: Baldrick being able to follow simple instructions

The king is doomed!

The second, Blackadder’s Christmas Carol was done for the holiday season and takes place in Victorian times and spoofs a certain novel by Charles Dickens. It tells of the kindest and most generous man in all of London...

...Ebenezer Blackadder. That is until he’s visited by the Ghost of Christmas...

...played by Rubeus Hagrid himself, Robbie Coltraine. The Ghost shows Blackadder the wickedness of his ancestors (using the casts of Blackadder 2 and Blackadder the Third in scenes filmed for the special) that unfortunately shows Blackadder that being evil is profitable.

Finally we have...

This special (which takes place (more or less) in modern times) shows what happens when a Blackadder gets hold of a time machine. Once again, old casts are assembled for scenes filmed for the special, in addition to an era never before seen...

(Thanks to Kristoupha Coook)

...the Roman era (and yes, Stephen Fry rather enjoyed parading around in his underwear) 

As always, if anyone would like to see an episode reviewed, please let me know.

#blackadder #rowan atkinson #Brian Blessed #hugh laurie #stephen fry #robbie coltrane #Fan Colored Glasses

[fishyfod]

Impromptu Review of Blackadder II

because I can

While season 2 doesn’t have the same awkward charm S1 has, everything runs a lot smoother. The jokes are wittier, the acting’s more solid, and this is the point where the identity of Blackadder really solidifies itself.

Particularly, Rowan Atkinson previously played Blackadder more as a bumbling fool of a conman, whose schemes are devious but will almost always fail because of his stupidity. Tony Robinson’s Baldrick is the smarter henchman, Tim McInnerny’s Percy is well-meaning and simpering, but still smarter than Blackadder. The general dynamic between the three was that Blackadder had the ambition and the drive, but if only he had listened to his henchman (read: Baldrick), he might’ve succeeded.

The Blackadder of season 2 is the more remarkable one; he is nefarious and devious, and his plans are usually quite cunning even if still comedically stupid. He rarely fails because he is dumb, but rather either because the world around him screws him up in unforeseen ways, or because his ambitions run too high. He does, however, quite frequently succeed in his schemes. Some of the later episodes of season 1 do hint at this characterization, and I think somewhere between the two seasons they decided this was the better approach.

On the flipside, Baldrick has to compensate by turning into the butt of most jokes. And frankly, Robinson does a phenomenal job playing this role. Percy’s character is relatively unchanged, but there’s more focus to his simpering attitude. In this season in particular he seems to represent the most absurd of the characters, the one you want to mock the most.

The real standouts are of course Stephen Fry as Melchett, and Miranda Richardson as Queen Elizabeth, and let me tell you, Miranda’s having so much fun with this role. Elizabeth is the most terrifying combination of a bratty child that’s a bit lonely, and also a terrifying monarch with a penchant for cutting off heads for her own amusement. It’s delightful.

The jokes are usually a mix of crude humor and absurdism, with a healthy dose of laughing at the expense of the time period the series portrays. In typical English fashion, the real question is how politely one says to another to buzz off, and more inappropriate jokes as well. I think the real charm is in the actors themselves, because it’s undeniable their skill is superb, and even some of the dumber jokes that aren’t all that clever or funny on their own become much funnier thanks to their acting.

My least favorite thing about the show, apart from some of the cruder jokes at times, is this dated approach to homosexuality and cross-dressing. I wouldn’t say they’re necessarily offensive, but you can tell sometimes the punchline of the joke is rooted in this viewing of queer as “other”, and “other” being funny for the sake of “other”. I have no idea how any of the cast feel about queerness or anything, but it’s certainly a mark of its age.

#Blackadder #my posts #fishy.watch.Blackadder #after I made a RWBY x Blackadder meme last night #which I'm not sure how many of you got #here's a thing

[superchartisland]

Discworld (Perfect 10/Psygnosis, PC, 1995)

The worlds of computer games and fantasy/sci-fi books have long been close together. Early British gaming milestone Elite was one of many, many games to have taken some inspiration from Douglas Adams’s sharp and funny science fiction parody The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. In the other direction, let’s look at Terry Pratchett, Douglas Adams fan and the UK’s best-selling author of the 1990s thanks to his Discworld series roughly doing for fantasy what Hitchhiker’s did for sci-fi, but many times more prolifically. Pratchett drew on his lasting interest in computer games in his writing. Small Gods (1992) is a spin on the central mechanic of Populous that gods get more powers the more believers they have, with the twist of considering what really counts as belief. Racist mis-step Interesting Times (1994) ends with its main character controlling a Terracotta Army stand-in via what is obviously the interface from Lemmings. Outside of his Discworld series, Pratchett wrote a whole book about a computer game, Only You Can Save Mankind (1992) in which the main characters are drawn into a game that’s somewhere between Space Invaders and Elite. He takes the side of the aliens.

Meanwhile, alongside Adams and Pratchett’s witty, knowing parodies of genre fiction, in the world of gaming LucasArts were making a big success of point’n’click graphic adventures which served as witty, knowing parodies of genre fiction. There’s no coincidence there: Douglas Adams worked together with LucasFilm Games (as was) on their first adventure game, Labyrinth, a logical extension to Adams’s own interest in computers and his role writing the text adventure version of Hitchhiker’s. Across the Atlantic from LucasArts, the biggest British success in the world of graphic adventures in the early ’90s was Simon the Sorcerer by AdventureSoft, who had originally wanted to make a Discworld game but couldn’t get the rights. Instead they made something in much the same spirit. Title character Simon is essentially an amalgam of Pratchett’s early Discworld protagonist (and useless wannabe wizard) Rincewind and LucasArts’ Monkey Island protagonist (and useless wannabe pirate) Guybrush Threepwood.

By 1995, a Discworld graphic adventure wasn’t just a good idea, but practically an inevitability. Beyond the intertwined background, the format is perfectly suited. The slow, detail-focused gameplay is a perfect delivery vehicle for comedy. There’s a reason why Rincewind and Guybrush Threepwood, self-aware and sarcastic commentators on the world around them, were so compatible, and indeed you play as Rincewind in the Discworld game. The meta tendencies of the genre line up with one of the key repeated themes of Discworld, the idea defined on occasion as ‘narrativium’: narrative is one of the key building blocks of the world and able to exact a powerful force upon events. Things happen because they are expected to happen, and because they make for the best story. At one point Discworld the game plays on one of Pratchett’s best straightforward manifestations of this — “one-in-a-million chances happen nine times out of ten” — getting the player to work out the exact series of accessories that will add up to the hero’s chances being 1,000,000–1.

Lots of games make you work out what their developers want you do as a solution, but few tie that puzzle-solving as directly in to the narrative as graphic (and text) adventures. The actions in question tend more to the detailed mechanics than the grand sweep, but at best progress is a kind of collaborative narrative process between creator and player, tuned to the same wavelength. You progress the story by working out what the story is going to be. Or what the story should be. The player enacts the force of narrativium.

And so in Discworld the game, Rincewind is not just aware, as in the books, that he is the unwilling hero in a fantasy story, and what the rules of that story are. He is aware that he is the hero of a fantasy point’n’click adventure. His ambulant suitcase companion of infinite and terrifying capacity, the Luggage, may not have been written as a parody of game inventories, but it certainly reads like one.

After watching the game’s intro the player knows that it’s a story about a dragon on the rampage in the city of Ankh-Morpork, but Rincewind doesn’t yet. Look out the window at the distant figure of the dragon, labelled as ‘shape’ and he comments that it’s obviously a plot element, or it would have a better label. In that kind of moment the game extends in a worthwhile way from both Discworld and point’n’click games. In others, its puzzles are far too obtuse to give the feeling of figuring out the story, going a long way beyond the standard of the genre in difficulty. That makes for a lot of time going around trying out everything possible, which means that the world and its characters being enjoyable to spend time with is even more important.

Rincewind’s turn as sarky, put-upon man, dealing with a world around him which is obviously mad, is enhanced by being voiced by Eric Idle. I won’t go into the further links between Monty Python and Douglas Adams, because my history bit at the start was already long enough and because Elizabeth Sandifer already did it excellently, but there is a positive kind of obviousness to that casting too. Likewise, given the comedy fantasy-historic setting of Ankh-Morpork, the presence in the cast of Tony Robinson (throw Blackadder into that web of British humour fiction somewhere too). As a fan of the Discworld books, one of the best parts of the game is hearing familiar characters given voice. Tony Robinson’s take on amoral street peddler Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler, unflappable in the face of having his cons pointed out, played like Baldrick if his obliviousness was a cunning front, is particularly delightful. As a representation of the daft, inventive, funny world of Discworld, the game is a happy success. It fills its inevitable role very well.

However, as a series, Discworld isn’t just daft and inventive and funny. Well it pretty much was to begin with, and remained that way in much popular perception for a long while afterwards. There was a reason Pratchett kept bringing Rincewind back for lazy romps in new places. Discworld would not be as well-loved as it remains if that was all it was, though.

The plot of Discworld the game draws heavily on the eighth novel in the series, Guards! Guards! (1989), which was a distinct turning point in the tone and range of the series and its satire. In it, a dragon is set loose in the city and is eventually stopped with help from the efforts of the under-funded, under-respected, under-the-influence guards of the City Watch, who gain some self-respect in the process. The book turns away from the typical special one born-into-the-role hero of the previous books, giving starring roles to characters in positions that would previously have made them cannon fodder or comic relief alone. The importance of the life and story of every single person is a strong theme throughout the series. Keeping the Watch as leads would have made for a different and less obvious game, but replacing them with Rincewind — a wizard from the parody of privileged academia that is Unseen University — loses that strand of the message.

The other thing that Guards! Guards! brings through strongly is anger at how society is run, and to whose benefit. In its story a manipulative palace insider uses the petty grievances of a bunch of working men to incite them to summon a dragon. He plans to stage a vanquishing and install a puppet ruler, but loses control and instead himself ends up as puppet to the monster he conjured. Pratchett returns repeatedly to the fickle will of the crowd, influenced via the forces of narrative. When the dragon winds up in charge of the city, the most cutting satire is how easily treasure-hoarding and virgin-sacrificing are accepted as the new normal. The people in power in a position to do something quickly fall to collective self-interest, content as long as they believe they’re not supporting the burning of their faces. That kind of seething argument for greater justice became more prominent as the Discworld books went on.

This whole theme, though, gets minimised by the game’s changes to the plot and its wider insistence on prioritising knockabout comedy. No chance is missed for cartoon logic, and even where aspects of the plot like the dragon’s desire for revenge on its summoners are kept, they’re played for laughs There is parody but nothing like the sharp satire of the source material, and it puts humour above anything, including sometimes fidelity to its characters. Across the series Pratchett has a running joke of the university’s orangutan librarian reacting violently to being called a monkey, but the many times the game has slapstick scenes of Rincewind doing that (or similar to other characters) and being bashed on the head doesn’t ring true. He’s the Librarian’s assistant from pretty early on in the series and regardless, if nothing else, his defining cowardice would make him more cautious than that. The game’s humour goes broad again and again. It may well include more jokes about men wearing dresses than it does women, in dresses or otherwise. That doesn’t come out of nowhere — Pratchett never quite got past the temptation to bite on easy jokes even if they sat uneasily with his moral messages — but the game feels closer to his worst early instincts.

To get completely anachronistic, I like to imagine a Discworld point’n’click based instead on much later books in the series. Tiffany Aching, analytical teenager training to be a witch (a position portrayed as being social worker and midwife more than it is magician) would fulfil a need for a level of unawareness and observation as player stand-in really well, and would allow for a game with a very different tone. That could be more than a cartoon romp in a familiar funny world. As it is, Discworld the game is a well-realised vision of Discworld, but it’s a vision of Discworld which was already old hat by the time of its inevitable creation.

Gallup Compact Disc chart, Computer Trade Weekly 3 April 1995 (chart for week to 25 March 1995)

#every number one #Discworld #RetroGaming #PCGaming

[baldricks-cunning-plan]

Hogwarts Houses: Blackadder II

Lord Blackadder - Slytherin

The first example of the deviously cunning Blackadder the world is used to. Blackadder is a textbook Slytherin in many respects and is ambitious for his own position at court - there are moments where he is definitely hoping to seduce Queenie into marrying him. He can be conniving, sneaky and unafraid of back stabbing. Plus, he has the Slytherin smirk down to a fine art.

Baldrick - Hufflepuff

Whilst in comparison to his descendants this Baldrick is still quite witty, there is no denying the family has been knocked down a peg or two in the brain department since his ancestor's time. Baldrick will go along with Blackadder's plans almost unquestioningly, making him a truly loyal servant. He is also the only character ever seen doing any work.

Lord Percy - Hufflepuff

Supposedly Blackadder's social equal, Percy is still beneath him in reality. He is desperate to be acknowledged by Blackadder as a friend and so will aid him in anyway to encourage this - which is often detrimental to his own wellbeing.

Lord Melchett - Ravenclaw

A hard one to sort as he also exhibits Slytherin qualities: Melchett is constantly working to remain in favour at court, making him a sycophant. However, he is also a man of God and presumably reads a lot. Perhaps it is because he is played Stephen Fry that he comes across as a bit of an intellectual... in most circumstances, anyway. Either way, Melchett also has the stereotypical Ravenclaw arrogance and aloofness.

Queenie - Slytherin

Another hard one to sort as Queenie is strangely childlike when she isn't condemning people to death. That said, to become Queen in her circumstances would require a certain amount of drive, ambition and even cunning. The real Elizabeth I's position was precarious and maintaining it demanded the skills and know-how of a Slytherin. As well as this, as mentioned above, Queenie has a dangerous ruthless streak.

Nursie - Hufflepuff

This woman has been devoted to Queenie in a very motherly fashion since the moment she was born.

Lord Flasheart - Gryffindor

The ultimate Elizabethan swashbuckling hero, Flasheart has the ability to capture the attention of an entire room with his presence alone. He acts on impulse and has all the Gryffindor daring, nerve and boldness one would expect from someone with his name.

Bob/Kate - Slytherin

Bob walks the fine line between Gryffindor and Slytherin but her Elizabethan iteration makes the green house due to her motivations: she wants to better herself and achieve in a society that works against her. She also ditches Blackadder for a better option, although who can blame her?

#blackadder #hogwarts houses #blackadder ii #lord blackadder #baldrick #lord percy percy #lord melchett #queenie #nursie #lord flasheart #bob #kate #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw

[omertaorg-blog]

Brianna Archibald - anne winters / diabolik / 04/01

Gregory Dolman - Nick Jonas / Badass / 06/12

Leon Scott - Jamie Dornan / King / 19.04

Carrie Bennet - Nathalia Dill / Naraka / 16.08

Jenna Fawkner - Chiara Ferragni / Amaretto / 30.11

Megan Mackena - Perrie Edwards / Kitty / 21.08

Natalia Hayato - Natalia Barulich / Pistole + 07.06

Bruna Gallagher - Ester Expósito / Brooklyn Nails / 11.11

Louise Quinzel - Margot Robbie / Madam Satan / 14.12

Diana Prince - Gal Gadot / Wonder Bitch / 17.05

Tony Hayato - Maluma / Headshot - 22.04

Illyana Rasputin - Anya Taylor-Joy / Magic / 12.12

August Walker - Henry Cavill / The boss - 28/01

Tohrment Morgenstern - Aaron Taylor-Johnson / King of hell / 18.02

Lauren Baldrick - Marina Ruy Barbosa / Hope / 29/03

Brooke Florence - Grace Elizabeth / Catastrophe / 16.11

Jane Foster - Candice Swanepoel / Goddes of thunder/ 26-11

Mary Stuart-Valois - Adelaide Kane / Insane / 16.07

Jean Grey - Danielle Victoria / Garota Marvel / 10.01

Dianna Agron-Baker - Demi Lovato / Angel face / 18/06

Mats Hummels - Mats Hummels / El patrón / 03.01

Elizabeth Rincón - Jessica Chastain / Phoenix / 16.08

Elizabeth Christeensen - Blanca Suárez / Furiosa / 21.06

Katherine Hawrd - Phoebe Tonkin / Jade / 08/02

Rachel Green - Jennifer Aniston / evil bitch / 30.01

Behati Prinsloo - Behati Prinsloo / Garota Enem / 22/11

Samantha Kane - Lili Reinhart/ Dark Betty / 09.08

Julian Edelman - Julian / Juliano / 25.05.

Renne Fernandes - Tom Ellis / Lúcifer / 02.01

Rimena Elliot  - Danna Paola / Mermaid / 25-09

Sam Hunt - Sam Hunt / Hunter / 21.06

Bella Sanders-Ackles - Josephine Skriver / Queen Bee / 01/02

Sebastian Barnes - Sebastian Stan / Ghost of Sparta / 23/09

Freydis Brandon - Alicia Agneson/ Leona/ 19.07

Howard Stark - Dominic Cooper / $tark / 07.12

Ronnie Gerloff - dulce maria / devil |/ 08.11

Yoshi Kurozaki - Shownu / Godster / 26.02

Jax Teller - Charlie Hunnam/ Men of Mayhem/ 09.12

Katherine Pryde - Barbara Palvin / Dragonfly / 09/08

Harley Quinn - Hailey Baldwin / Vixen / 23.03

Candice Jones - Nina Dobrev / Eletric / 07.06 ****

Jhonny Bravo - Tom Hardy / JB / 10-07

Barbara Gordon - Miriam Leone / Babs / 02.08

Rachel Amber - Claire Holt / Firefingers /18.03

Scarlett Barkov - Ana Luiza Sparrapan / sweet demon / 25/03

Jake Riley- Chris Wood / Falco Colt / 25.07

Christopher Dietrich - Chris Evans / Daddy Shark / 20.05

Manon Crochan - Kiernan Shipka / Satansoul / 08.08 ++ diana reserva harley ++ capo dei capi, att 02/01/2019

#oficialmembers #omtmembers

[kinda-iconic]

Fandom Tag

Thank you for tagging me, @cinnamoncam! 😁

Rule: Tag ten favourite characters from ten different fandoms, then tag ten people

1) Harry Potter: Dobby the House Elf (you guys have no idea how much his death broke me dear god!)

2) Sherlock: The one and only Sherlock Holmes

3) The Originals: Elijah Mikaelson (there's so many characters I love in this series it was hard to choose!)

4) Doctor Who: Clara Oswald

5) Blackadder - does this have a fandom?: Baldrick (tbh I don't care if it doesn't it deserves one!)

6) The Hunger Games: Joanna Mason

7) Choices (obviously): Adrian Raines

8) Disney (too big not to have a fandom): Merida

9) Pirates of the Caribbean: Elizabeth Swan

10) OUAT: Killian Jones (he's just adorable)

To be completely honest I'm not too sure if these are all 'fandom' fandoms... my brain went to mush and these were the first things I could think of!

Tagging: @livdenaraswife @nk-writes @christopher-powell @indescribablechoices @purple-whispers @mysteli @damienazariostan @ladynonsense @damiensjacket @javisfreckles

If you don't want to take part, no worries! ☺ open to anyone who wishes to get involved! 😄

#ask game #favourite characters #fandoms

[invader-vel]

Time for another telling of Velly’s weird dreams.

This one is thanks to Blackadder and a phone call.

I have to have noise to fall asleep and I prefer speaking voices so I listen to the TV rather than the radio, I usually play something that has a steady sound, with no extreme changes in volume,  explosions, etc...

I picked the British TV show Blackadder and I fell asleep to the Blackadder Christmas Carol. This Particular episode can get me to sleep in about 15 minutes.

It was at the point in the episode where Blackadder was in trouble for not having a gift for Queen Elizabeth, in an effort to stay alive had her autograph the novelty death warrant Baldrick had given him, then my phone rang. Right when Elizabeth said “Oh, good! Christmas is a time for tricks and japes and larks of all kinds. Tell you what, Blackadder: that’s so brilliant, I’ll execute Melchett instead!”

My ringtone is Zim calling ‘My tallest‘ over and over and somehow Elizabeth’s remark turned into one of the Control Brains in the ‘Trial’ saying they found Zim so amusing they were execute the Tallest instead.

Then I realized my phone was ringing and woke up enough it ignore the call, I mean who calls at 5am anyway...

#my subconscious is weird #velly speaks #invader zim

[lapeaudelamemoire]

Just finished Blackadder's second series (because I am a lazy bum cat who has nothing to do all day except wait for Official Paperwork For Things) 1. I really cannot recognise young Hugh Laurie what. the. fuck. 2. I feel like Helena Bonham Carter's Red Queen in the 2010 Tim Burton Alice in Wonderland film might have taken some inspiration from Queen Elizabeth I in this series 3. But I did enjoy the first half of this incarnation more than the back half, unsure why; think the writing was just better then got a bit rushed? Possibly not enough Percy/Baldrick in the later episodes 4. Also I really like British humour. I can't help it. It's also my brand of humour. Snarky, witty, and a lot of jabbing. + somewhat moribund & occasionally self-deprecating.

#personal

[spoldhamauthor]

Image not mine, copied from https://blackadderquotes.com/blackadder-quotes-best-queenie-quotes-from-blackadder Found it whilst searching for a suitable picture, seemed perfect to me! 

Author’s Note:

I wrote this as a submission to a collection of stories. It was not successful, but no matter, I very much enjoyed writing it. The idea was to write about a well-known character, but set many years ahead. They had to have somehow become twisted or evil over time, at least that is what I remember of the criteria.

I suspect that this story was not brutal enough for that particular collection, but as I say, no matter. My husband suggested Queenie when I was wracking my brains for a character to expend upon and I jumped upon the idea.

For those of you who may not be familiar with Queenie aka Queen Elizabeth I as portrayed in Series 2 of the excellent UK comedy-drama series Blackadder for my piece. Blackadder aired in Britain in the 1980’s and remains firmly popular to this day. If you haven’t seen it, I can’t recommend it enough. Quality writing and acting, with bleak and often quite dark humour, it just gets better as you go along.

Queenie (as opposed to the actual Queen Elizabeth I, that is) can be considered borderline insane, I think. Perhaps that is not surprising, given the power that lay literally at her fingertips; the societal demands that meant she was never to be found wrong, never to be argued with, never to be found wanting in any sense. Admirers from far and wide were expected to tremble at her beauty. Even as a grown woman, sat upon the throne, she had her ever faithful Nursie at her side, to humour and flatter her at every turn. Add to that the fact that she was British royalty, the daughter of Henry VIII and of executed Anne Boleyn, and you’ve got a nutter in the making if ever there was one.

I suppose essentially this could be described as fan-fiction. Please take it as it is intended; a bit of fun. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

S P Oldham

Corpse and Corruptibility

“I must say, these heads look jolly super on their spikes don’t they Nursie? Nursie?

Queenie looked about her, tentatively turning her aching neck. She rubbed at it arthritically, reminded at once of the many heads she had ordered removed from their necks in the earlier years of her reign.

The chamber was devoid of life, other than the two empty-headed maids-in-waiting who sat before the fire, sewing quietly in the slowly fading light. Queenie felt they didn’t count. They looked up as she spoke, exchanging a glance before one of them found voice enough to say, “Nursie, ma’am?”

“Yes, Nursie! Where is she?” Queenie hissed, her previous good mood rapidly dissipating, “Never mind, you will have to do. I was saying, don’t these heads look jolly super on their spikes?”

The women shared another look. With an air of having done this a thousand times before, they set down their sewing, crossing obediently to where Queenie sat.

There had been some argument over the placement of her chair when she had first been moved into these rooms. She had found it quite unbelievable that she had to argue with anyone to have her will fulfilled. It was something she was having to do more and more, these, days.

She had won out eventually though, drawing on her aging reserves of spite, threat, malice and just enough of a retaining link to royal power that the household had backed down, submitting to her demands.

The chair, heavily and expensively embroidered, was at first appearances a lavish thing. Closer inspection revealed that it was becoming worn in patches, the metallic golden threads losing their shine, the cushions beginning to sag and to lose their stuffing. Queenie never seemed to notice its state of gradual decay; perhaps it was too close a mirror to her own self. She had it placed just inside the arched doorway, enabling her to see the entirety of her chamber, but more importantly, to see all the way down the shadowed corridor beyond the door.

The corridor was lit with slow-burning torches. Running parallel to them was a row of withered heads set upon iron spikes. Once familiar members of her court, Blackadder, Baldrick, Melchett and Nursie remained in her presence still.

The heads faced away from Queenie, towards a row of darkening windows, as if peering out onto the sweeping lawns below.

The ladies-in-waiting, standing either side of the chair, made a show of looking attentively upon the grisly spectacle.

“They do indeed look super, ma’am,” one of them ventured. Queenie thought she detected a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

“Very super indeed,” the other agreed. Queenie swore she heard a suppressed giggle. Outraged, she narrowed her eyes, making the figure of the woman bare feet away from her blur and distort. She reached out to slap her with her fan.

She had gone, the ladies returning to their sewing without Queenie’s consent.

“I don’t believe I gave you leave to sit,” Queenie said, effecting her most child-like, and therefore most dangerous, tone of voice, “I think you should come back here at once, otherwise I might find another use for those sharp little needles!” The last words came out a rasp, making her throat dry. She began to cough, her eyes tearing up.

“Fetch me a drink!” she snapped, gratified to see one of the women jump up to pour her a cup of wine.

“What’s that?” she snapped, snatching the cup and pushing the woman away irritably, “What did you say, Blackadder?”

At once, the women were lost to her; as inconsequential as their conversation and their sewing. The cup of wine arrested in its journey to her lips, Queenie’s attention was fixed firmly on the head nearest the door.

“I said, there was a time when you would not have tolerated such impertinence, my lady. Heaven knows, I never got away with it.”

Queenie laughed; a high-pitched, unexpected cackle, assaulting the frigid air of the chamber. One of the ladies-in-waiting jumped, dropping her needle.

“Very true Blackadder, but come on! You always knew I had a soft spot for you, surely?”

“Really?” Blackadder said sardonically, “Well, I’ve certainly got a soft spot now, that’s for sure. You had to put us on spikes, did you? It was too much to hope that your majesty might have had a nice, smooth wooden shelf to rest us upon?”

“Don’t be cheeky Blackie! I could have had you displayed on London Bridge along with all the other rotters, you know!”

“The other rotters, ma’am? I am hurt that you seem to think I could ever do anything to offend your royal self.”

Queenie pouted, a gesture once haughtily seductive. Now, it served only to compress her thin lips still further, giving her cheeks an appearance of near-skeletal gauntness, “Now, now Blackadder, don’t be naughty. You know very well what you did. I had to teach you a little lesson, that’s all.”

“A very just and deserved lesson, if one might interject, your majesty,” Melchett oozed his way into the conversation.

“You may not say, Melchett!” Queenie snapped, “I’m still very cross with you, you know! You were a very naughty Lord Chamberlain and well you know it!”

“Quite so, ma’am. Forgive me,” Melchett receded.

“In fact, now that I think about it I might just have to punish you again Melchy! I really am very cross you know,” This last spoken in softer tones, Queenie’s anger dissolving as at last she raised the wine to her lips.

The ladies-in-waiting were watching her very closely. Queenie smiled back. Once a pretty, even disarming smile, now it was missing several teeth and set in a plump and spoiled visage. There was a hard glint in her eyes where the smile did not quite reach. Time was, that would have been warning enough to anyone in her presence to choose their next words very carefully.

“Who are you talking to?” One of them asked, adding off-handedly, “Ma’am?”

Queenie paused, considering. She was sure she had been speaking to someone else just a moment ago. Someone she knew well, over whom she had influence. She took another sip of the wine.

“Isn’t it obvious, or are you trying to be clever?” Queenie replied to the puzzled lady, “Because we all know what happens to people who try to be clever, don’t we?”

“We do indeed my little angel,” the head of Nursie gushed, “They go join the church and become something to do with praying and singing and all those nice things. Unless, they are girls of course; in which case, they find a nice, rich man…”

“Od do shut up Nursie! I wasn’t asking you! I was asking these people here! Who are you, anyway?” Queenie looked each of the women up and down the length of their bodies, “What are you doing here?”

The women sighed in unison, their exasperation plain. The one Queenie had tried to hit with her fan spoke first.

“I am Ann Pastwick, Countess of…”

“Boring!” Queenie announced in a shrill voice, relishing the flush of anger on the woman’s face, “You’re boring, this place is boring and I am very, very bored! Do something funny at once!”

The lady-in-waiting who had not yet spoken stood, going to Queenie with her hand outstretched, “Another cup of wine, first?” She spoke as if to a child, persuading her have her drink before going out to play.

“Good idea,” Queenie said, relinquishing the cup, “Just be a bit quicker about it this time!”

The lady smiled, baring teeth. She went to the table to pour the wine. From her seated position, Lady Ann watched her counterpart fiddle with a vial dangling from the beads around her waist, out of sight of Queenie. She gave a small, imperceptible nod, signifying her agreement.

The lady inclined her head. She shook a few grains of powder into the wine, stirring it with a long, slender finger, allowing it to dissolve before returning it to Queenie in her chair, wiping her finger surreptitiously on her dress.

“Go on then, do something!” Queenie said ungratefully, snatching back the wine, spilling a few drops down the front of her gown.

“I shouldn’t drink that if I were you,” Blackadder warned from out in the corridor. He sounded as if he didn’t expect to be listened to.

“Oh? Why not?”

“Ah, I think I might be in accordance with Lord Blackadder on this matter, Ma’am. It is perhaps wise not to take a drink from that glass,” Melchett added, keen not to miss out on anything.

“But why not?” Queenie repeated her question, growing impatient.

“If I may, I think Blackadder might suspect, as do I, that your wine has been adulterated,” Melchett supplied.

“Adulterated. Whatever do you mean?”

“I think I know your royal majesteriness,” Baldrick’s flat, vacant tones rang out. On the spike next to him, Blackadder groaned, “Oh God, here we go. If I still had eyes, I would be rolling them like crazy right now.”

“Well? Tell me then!”

“Well, it’s like your old dad and that woman. What’s ‘er name? Kathleen something or other. Anyway, rumour had it that she did a little bit of adulterating, here and there like. That’s what’s happened to your wine I reckon; it’s been messed about with.” Baldrick finished his explanation with an air of triumph, “Hey, Mr Blackadder sir; if I had eyes, I’d been flicking them back and forth now, just to see how proud you and Mr Melchett are of me!”

“Yes,” Blackadder drawled, “And if I could bend my neck a bit more on this spike, I’d try knocking some sense into you with my own head.”

“I must say, the strange little man has done rather a good job of explaining matters, in his roundabout and somewhat stupid way,” Melchett said, “After all, when all’s said and done, it does appear that her majesty’s wine has been, well, messed about with,”

“Ooh! Don’t drink it buttercup! Tip it away at once, or you’ll have a runny tummy again, like that time you insisted on tasting the tanner’s wine and it turned out to be wee-wee,” Nursie cautioned.

“Shut up Nursie!” Queenie snapped, her colour rising, “Messed about with, you say? Who would dare do such a thing?”

Blackadder sighed, “Well, taking a wild stab in the dark your highness, I think it might be one, or both, of your ladies-in-waiting.”

“Ah, but how do you know, Mr Blackadder sir? For all her queeniness knows, it could be one of us!” Baldrick remained pleased with himself.

The silence that followed was filled with disbelief. Lord Blackadder broke it, saying in his most nasal, snake-like tones, “Your majesty, I think it might be safe to dismiss Baldrick’s suggestion that it might be one of us who is responsible.”

“Oh you do, do you? Well that’s one of the first signs of guilt, I happen to know! Protesting your innocence! Why should I believe any of you?”

“That’s right my little owlet, you show them how clever you are!”

“Shut up Nursie! Well, Blackadder?”

Despite the fact that he was missing his eyes, lips and facial hair, in spite of the fact that his remaining skin was drawn back tight across his skull, Blackadder managed to look astounded.

“Because, your majesty, we none of us have arms. Or legs, Or hands. Or even brains, for that matter, not that it’s made much difference to Baldrick.”

“Hey!”

“Oh yes! Oh yes, of course! Oh, well done Blackie! Silly me, I should have noticed that, being queen and all.”

“But you’re not queen!” The unnamed lady-in-waiting blurted out, bewildered at the apparent conversation the erstwhile queen was holding with the mouldering heads in the corridor.

“I beg your pardon!” Queenie snapped her neck round to face the woman, regretting it instantly as a sharp pang of pain shot upwards and into her jaw. She rubbed at it furiously, eyes glaring, “You didn’t tell me what your name was!”

“You didn’t give her the chance,” Lady Ann interrupted brazenly, “Her name is Lady Helena, as she has told you a thousand times before. As we both have told you more times than we can either of us remember. We cannot be held responsible for your lack of memory in your dotage.”

“Or your encroaching insanity,” Lady Helena added, spitefully.

It had been a long time since Queenie had felt such a surge of rage. It was true that she lived with a permanent undercurrent of anger, always simmering just under the surface. She also carried with her a deep, unfathomable well of bitter resentment at old-age and ignominy. The anger she now felt was something different; old and familiar, like the row of heads so dear to her. As comfortable and known to her as her favourite bedroom slippers. It was a welcome visitor to her gloomy chamber.

“How dare you!” She roared, setting loose a strand of greying hair to frame her face on one side, “How dare you speak to me like that! I can have your head chopped off, you know! With just a click of these fingers. Look!”

Queenie raised her empty hand, resting the tip of her thumb on her middle finger; or trying to. A warm swelling coupled with a deep, ever-present ache, had made its presence felt there for some time now. It was all she could do to reach that finger with her thumb. She could add no force to it once it was there. The motion alone caused her pain. Her thumb slid uselessly away, sliding over her papery skin, producing no sound at all, simply contorting her digits into near unnatural shapes with the effort.

“Bugger!” she swore aloud, “Here!” She thrust out the goblet of wine, spilling yet more of it down her front. Alarmed that the poison might be spilled and wasted, Lady Ann rushed forward to rescue it.

“Now you’ve had it!” Queenie sneered, attempting to click her fingers on her good hand instead. It worked, though the sound it made was feeble at best. She beamed at the ladies, eyes shining with excited malice, “Guards!” She shouted, prompting another coughing fit.

Seeing her chance, Lady Ann nudged the wine back into Queenie’s hand. She took it without even noticing, resting the goblet on the stained arm of the chair.

“Guards?” She called again, a trace of confusion entering her features.

“Madam, there are no guards,” Lady Ann said placatingly, “They were removed some time ago now, remember? It was decreed that they were wasted here, in the highest, dustiest, loneliest part of the palace. Even if anyone knew you were here or how to reach you, why on earth would they want to? Who would care enough to fight their way in here to you?”

“Now that’s just unkind,” Nursie chided from the corridor, “Very unkind indeed. That’s what comes of girls being left to play together for too long, if you ask me. Mind you, it makes a change you being on the receiving end, my little stinging nettle. I remember you playing with young Lady Alison in the nursery one day, when she held your dolly for only a tiny moment, and you made her cry, you were so nasty to her. Why, you…”

“Yes, thank you Nursie!” Queenie cut her off hurriedly, “I have just been mortally offended if you don’t mind, thank you! I don’t want to know about some silly tiff when I was little, which I don’t believe you about, by the way. I’m quite sure Lady Alison was mean to me first. But I do want to know what’s going to be done about this. Well, what are you going to do about it, Blackadder?”

“Me, my lady?”

“Yes, you Blackadder. Why must I always repeat myself?”

“If I may be frank my lady, I fail to see what on earth you imagine I can do about it.”

“You’re a Lord in my court, aren’t you?”

“Well, I was once, yes. But that was before you cut off my head,”

“Oh yes. Gosh, why do I keep forgetting about that?” Queenie giggled absently, “It’s no excuse for slackness though! I still expect you to do something about it!”

“Yes, I thought you might. You really are a mad old cow, aren’t you Queenie? I mean, you really are completely barking. As barking as a rabid dog from Barking whose seen the postman coming and has got free access to the letterbox. aren’t you?”

“I see,” Queenie snipped, “So you’re choosing to side with these two harpies, are you?” She ignored the sharp intake of breath her insult drew from her ladies, “You might want to be a bit more careful about your behaviour round here,” she went on, “I can still have you punished. Don’t forget that.”

“Yes, about that. Let’s examine that for a moment, shall we? As it stands, or as you stand, since I am only upright if I am held up by a spike but no matter; as it stands, I am reduced to nothing more than a head. Not even a complete head, at that. I am missing my eyes; my lips have rotted away. My eyebrows, moustache and beard appear to have crawled off to die elsewhere. My ears have shrunk against my bones like barnacles against the hull of a ship and my skin is so stretched and thin it could be the plot for Shakespeare’s next play, yet you think you can punish me further? Very well then, my lady; do your worst.”

“I shall you know. Don’t push me Blackadder, you should know me better than that by now,”

“I can think of an additional punishment or two, if it please you, your majesty,” Melchett said ingratiatingly.

“Certainly Melchy! I’m always interested to hear what you have to say, as you know. What do you have in mind?”

“Nothing but fresh air, just as when he was alive,” Blackadder jibed.

“Pay him no attention Melchy, he’s just put out because he’s about to be told off! Come on then, what do you suggest?”

“Only this, madam. Blackadder was quick to point out that his eyes are missing. That means the sockets are empty. Perhaps you could fill them with something? Fresh manure from the palace stables, maybe? A handful of the scraps from table in the Great Hall, after the dogs have finished bringing it back up, for instance?”

“Ooh Melchy, there’s a thought!” Queenie’s eyes flicked upward as she sought to contribute, “I know!” She clapped her hands together in gleeful delight, pleased with herself at having thought of something, “I could pour molten gold into them!”

“Gold? Majesty, no! Surely gold is too rich a commodity…”

“No, no. Gold’s fine with me,” Blackadder assured her hastily. Queenie ignored him.

“Melchett, did you just tell me ‘no?’” Her voice had become hard and dangerous, her mood changing as quick as a wink.

“Forgive me, your majesty, I quite forgot myself. I trust that in your wisdom, you understand that I spoke with your best interests at heart.” His voice rose an octave, hopeful he had done enough to allay his queen’s wrath.

*

The ladies-in-waiting were growing impatient. They looked down at the babbling old queen in dismay. Of late, her behaviour had become ever more erratic, her lapses back into times past more frequent and more bizarrely detailed than ever. Resentful at having been designated her ladies-in-waiting, they had talked often of a way out of their dire situation. They each felt like prisoners themselves; as shut out of the way and forgotten as Queenie herself.

The poison had been an obvious choice. Yet it still carried with it a risk. No one would really care if the old queen dropped dead tomorrow. She couldn’t last very much longer anyway. But she couldn’t blatantly be killed. Old or not, mad as the erstwhile Lord Percy’s underpants or not, she was still royalty. If they were too obvious in their endeavours, they could well swing, or worse, for her murder.

Hence their nervousness. They had discussed dropping the powders into her wine just the night before. The plan had been to get her into bed, then slip them into her customary warm drink which she took to help her drift off. That way they could say she had simply died in her sleep, warm and comfortable in her bed.

They had brought the plan forward when Queenie had offered the insult as to their names.

“Enough is enough, after all,” Lady Ann said quite openly to Lady Helena, aware that Queenie was too engrossed in some strange conversation with the voices in her head – or in the corridor - to take any notice of the real people around her.

“Quite so,” Lady Helena agreed, “But now what? The way she is going, there will be no wine left in that goblet! She will tip out all of the poison. Do you have any more of the powder?”

“A little, yes,”

“Enough to do the job, should we need it?”

“I think so, yes,” Lady Ann said again, “It would at the very least make her exceedingly ill. She is old and frail, it might be enough.”

“We will just have to get her to drink it then,” Lady Helena said, determined.

*

“I think you can be quite rude to dear old Blackie sometimes, Melchett. I really do,” Queenie seemed to have forgotten Melchett’s utterance of the word no, “But you have raised an interesting question. If Blackie has no eyes anymore, as in fact none of you do, then how does he know my wine’s been messed about with?” She finished with an air of finality, as if she had asked a question no one could possibly hope to answer.

“Quite simple, my lady; I heard it.” Blackadder supplied smoothly.

“Heard it? Heard what?”

“The powders, my lady. I heard the tiniest splash as they spilled from their vial into your wine, followed by a light fizzing as they began to dissolve.”

“Oh gosh Blackadder, how clever!” Queenie was impressed, blushing coyly like a maiden enamoured with a gentleman at court.

“Oh please,” Melchett huffed, “My lady, how is that possible? Just as he no longer has eyes with which to see, Blackadder no longer has ears with which to hear, either.”

“Good point Melchy! Blackadder?”

“With respect my lady, that is not true. I do have ears. They just happened to be shrunk and stuck to my head, that’s all.”

“There you go Melchett, there’s your answer. Silly!” She added, as an afterthought. She chewed her lip, all at once sullen.

“What am I supposed to do, I wonder? If I let on I know about the wine, they might get angry with me and kill me some other way. Hit me with the poker on the hearth or something. I can’t very well call out for help, there are no guards to hear me. What should I do, Blackadder?”

“Hmm, a tricky situation ma’am. I beg grace to think it over for a moment or two.”

“Of course, Blackie. You too, Melchett! Get thinking!”

“And me, my little sugar plum?”

“Oh lord Nursie, no! You’re no good at thinking. Just hum a rhyme or something. Quietly, mind you!”

Silence fell, underlined only by the gentle, tuneless humming of Nursie trying to recall a nursery rhyme, failing miserably. Queenie raised the goblet to her mouth, also raising the hopes of her ladies-in-waiting. They held their breath as the rim of the cup touched to her lower lip.

“Excuse me your royal haughtiness, but I have a cunning plan.” Baldrick announced. The goblet halted. The ladies held their breath.

“Yes?” Queenie raised a brow, “Is it a very clever plan?”

“Oh god,” Blackadder intoned a second time.

“It is my lady. It’s as clever as my cousin Frederick when he entered the local three-letter word spelling competition in my village.”

“So, not very clever at all then,” Blackadder sneered, “If I recall correctly Baldrick, your cousin Frederick lost that competition to the village cat. When asked, in fact, to spell the word ‘cat.’ My lady, If I may be so bold, I believe that I may have a cunning plan.”

“Is it actually a real cunning plan Blackadder? Not a stupid one like your grubby friend here just had?”

“My lady, I can assure you that my plan is far brighter, more feasible and a damn sight cleaner than anything my grubby friend could ever hope to think of.” Blackadder assured her, “However, I will have to ask you to rise from your chair a moment…”

*

Lady Ann and Lady Helena’s nerves were frayed. It was all Lady Ann could do to stop herself physically forcing the wine down Queenie’s throat and having done with it, when the woman shoved the goblet out to be taken from her once more. Her hand was shaking as she accepted it, putting it carefully down on the solid oak table in case she spilled any more of its contents.

“Help me!” Queenie demanded, struggling to rise from the chair. Lady Helena took her outstretched arm, helping her to her feet.

“Do you retire to your bed, my lady?” Lady Helena asked hopefully, “Should I turn down your covers? Perhaps Lady Ann should make your posset?”

“Bed? Pah!” Queenie spat, “I am stretching my legs. Get back to your wretched sewing before the light fails altogether,” she instructed. She hoped the ladies had not heard the tremble in her voice, giving her fear away.

It seemed they had not. The air heavy with nameless anticipation, they sat heavily, picking up their work begrudgingly, bending to their task.

Queenie cast a last, searching glance at them before stepping out into the corridor. It was a lot colder out here, the glass of the leaded windows letting in the night air. She shivered, forcing herself to stroll at a queenly pace down the corridor until she was amongst the one-time members of her court once more.

“Well, Blackadder?” she whispered as soon as she had drawn level with his decapitated head, “what’s the big idea?”

“Simply this my lady. You must somehow get your ladies-in-waiting to drink the wine instead of you.”

“Genius Blackie!”

“I had the same idea you know,”

“No you didn’t Melchy! Now then Blackadder, how do I get them to drink it?”

“Well, therein lies the problem, ma’am. I admit I hadn’t got that far. How indeed? You could simply insist upon it. They are your ladies-in-waiting after all. It’s their job to keep you safe, as far as they can.”

“But that would give me away, wouldn’t it? They would know I am on to them,”

“Yes,” Blackadder sounded deflated, “It would. I admit it’s a puzzle, your majesty.”

“Well come on you lot!” Queenie hissed, “Think of something. Put your heads together!”

“Oh! Put your heads together! How clever my little love! How funny!” Nursie roared with laughter.

“I don’t get it,” Baldrick said plaintively.

“Shut up Nursie, do! You’re making enough noise to wake the dead!”

“Oh! There she goes again! Wake the dead indeed!”

“It is mildly amusing, I suppose,” Melchett conceded, uttering a few deep, harsh gulps that Queenie could only assume was laughter.

“Is this what we are come to?” Blackadder was peeved, “Are we really reduced to staring endlessly out of a smeared and greasy window, expected to laugh at what seems to be passing for humour these days, from Nursie, of all people?”

“Oh come on Blackie, you must admit it is a bit funny,” Queenie cajoled him, “Don’t be an old grump!”

“Don’t lose your head!” Nursie guffawed.

“Ha, ha, ha!” Baldrick joined in, suddenly getting it. His laughter sounded as if he was speaking each word individually, “Ha, ha, ha!” he added for good measure.

Blackadder couldn’t help himself. Perhaps all the cold, empty years impaled on a spike had finally got to him. He would have thrown back his head, but he couldn’t do it without toppling off the spike. Instead, he settled for roaring with laughter along with the others.

*

“Just listen to her, cackling like an old witch!” Lady Ann’s eyes were wide, “Lady Helena, she is getting worse. Truth be told, I am growing a little afraid of being closeted in here with her.”

Lady Helena nodded, “As am I. I wish we could persuade someone at court to believe us about her! They cannot know how much worse she is these days! Perhaps we should fetch someone?”

They stopped, shocked into silence at the increasingly loud, bellowing laughter emitting from the frail form of Queenie, out of sight in the corridor but not beyond hearing.

“What on earth can she find so funny?” Lady Helena leaned forward, whispering.

“Who can know?” Lady Ann shrugged, “She is quite mad.”

“Perhaps one of her heads has told her a joke!” Lady Helena persisted, a wicked gleam in her eye. The ladies giggled together, then Ann shuddered.

“It is morbid though, is it not? They say those heads belonged to some of the most trusted and beloved of her court. That love and trust did nothing to save them.”

“She must have had her reasons,” Lady Helena mused, “Though I was surprised she was given leave to keep them in here, with her. Remember in the early days, when the heads were fresh? When we would walk into a cloud of humming black flies? Remember the stench of rotting flesh whenever we had to travel that corridor?”

“Hush, Lady Helena, I cannot bear to think of it!”

“No. I suppose at least now the heads are dry and flaking. They cannot cause offence anymore, though I confess to putting my own head down and averting my eyes whenever I have to pass them by.”

“Me too,” Lady Ann admitted, “Yet that insane old queen talks to them as if they were still alive and vital! As if the people they belonged to really were in the room with her!”

“I can barely understand a word when she converses with them,” Lady Helena said, “The odd scrap here and there, perhaps. If what I have managed to make sense of is true, then it would appear those old heads out there were at least as mad as she was.”

“As long as we don’t start hearing them talk, we will be fine.” Lady Ann placed an encouraging hand on Lady Helena’s knee, though the look in her eye was uncertain.

Lady Helena rested her hand on top of Lady Ann’s, returning the reassurance, “I should faint clean away, should that happen!” She tried to laugh, but it didn’t come out right, somehow.

“Ladies! I require your assistance!” Queenie called to them.

“At least she has stopped that awful laughing!” Lady Helena said.

Lady Ann’s brow furrowed, “Am I imagining things, Lady Helena? I could swear I can still hear muffled laughter? Giggling perhaps?”

Lady Helena paused, listening. There was something disturbing the air; some low noise she could not identify. She stood abruptly, dismissing it as her imagination.

“This place will do things to your mind,” she said, reaching out a hand to help Lady Ann to her feet, “Come, let’s see what the wild bird wants. And fetch the wine.”

*

“Are you ready?” Queenie asked the members of her court. As one, each of them replied with a ‘yes.’

“And you’re sure this will work, Blackadder?”

“As sure as I can be, my lady. No one in their right mind would be able to shrug off what we have planned. That’s why you are all right with it, after all.”

“Oh, dear Blackie. You are a one!” Queenie stroked his cheek, sending a sliver of loose skin to waft to the floor like a pallid, grey feather.

“Anything for you, your majesty,” Blackadder reciprocated.

“Right then, get ready everyone; here they come.”

*

The ladies approached the doorway together, arm in arm. Lady Ann held the poisoned wine in her free hand, though it shook violently, unsure of what she would find out there in the cold, grisly corridor.

The lights flickered in the draught from the window, giving the effect of movement to the faces staring out of them. Outside, darkness had finally begun to lower its cloak, pressing against the window as if it might come in and defeat the candles.

Apart from the high colour in her face coupled with a slight breathlessness, Queenie did not appear any more deranged than usual.

“My lady?” Lady Helena enquired.

“There you are! You took your time.”

“Begging your pardon my lady, we came the moment you called,” Lady Ann argued, “Perhaps you would like your wine now?”

“Ah! The wine,” Queenie said cryptically, “the wine,” she repeated, once more chewing her lip thoughtfully, “Tell you what Lady Ann, why don’t you take a sip yourself?”

“Me? Take a sip? But why?”

Alongside her, Lady Helena sighed, uncoupling her arm, “Isn’t it obvious, Lady Ann? She knows,”

“What do you mean, she knows? How can she?”

“Well, I certainly know now, anyway!” Queenie spat, “I know you were going to poison me! I know that’s why you won’t drink the wine! And I know you want me dead!”

The lights flickered violently, guttering so low that for a moment the ladies feared they might go out altogether. In the strange glow it looked like the heads were moving again.

“But how can you know?” Lady Ann repeated softly, “I gave you no clue, you saw nothing!”

“No!” said Blackadder, turning to face her on his spike, his bone rubbing against the metal to make a weird scraping noise, “but I heard you, you little murderess!” The remaining heads turned on their spikes behind him, offering their support, each of them muttering quietly.

The ladies screamed in unison. Lady Ann dropped the wine, sending the goblet clattering across the stone floor, the red liquid spattering harmlessly. That it looked like blood dripped from the severed head did not escape her attention.

They backed out of the corridor, eager for the safety of the chamber, never taking their eyes off the cursed, haunted heads. Lady Helena fell, tripping on her long skirts, nearly taking Lady Ann with her. They screamed again, Lady Ann abandoning Lady Helena and running for the bedroom. Lady Helena scrabbled to her feet, running after her.

Behind them, Queenie was laughing again, a sparkle in her eye that hadn’t been there for the longest time.

She went to Blackadder, heaving the spike that bore his head out of the floor and holding it high. She went to Melchett and did the same, until she was brandishing them both like lances.

“Okay boys, you’re coming with me! Be sure to speak up now!” Queenie ordered, marching through the doorway into the chamber, turning towards the bedroom after her ladies-in-waiting.

“Have fun!” Nursie called after them as they went, “Remember to play nicely, my little cactus.”

“Shut up, Nursie!”

The corridor fell silent, aside from the horrified screams and pleas for mercy that reached there from the bedroom.

“You know, I never did understand why Queenie had us all executed,” Baldrick said conversationally.

“No? Well I shouldn’t worry dear, she always was a fickle child,” Nursie offered.

“Even so, it was a bit rude of her wasn’t it? I mean, I had a turnip in my larder, all fresh and untouched. I would have got another three or four meals out of that!” Baldrick was indignant now, “Why did she do it?” he said again, plaintively.

“Well you can never know for sure with these royal ones, you see,” Nursie sighed, “Do you remember me saying just now, about the dolly little Lady Alison was playing with?”

“Yes,”

“Queenie loves that dolly. Kept it all her life you know, always has it with her somewhere. She used to say that dolly could speak to her. She tried telling me that dolly told her to hit little Alison. That was why I was so very cross with her. I mean, really! Whoever heard of a dolly talking, much less telling a little girl to do unkind things!” Nursie shook her head, her expression cross. Or it would have been.

“Crazy!” Baldrick murmured softly.

S P Oldham.

#blackadder #dark comedy #fanfiction #fanfic #indie

[socialoutsider1a]

My favorite Hugh Laurie Blackadder characters:

1- Prince Ludwig the Indestructible- Appearing in the Blackadder II series finale episode, "Chains", Ludwig is a German master of disguise who met Blackadder, Melchett and Queenie, disguised as other people or in Melchett's case, even a sheep. Due to his appearance and the fact he wore shorts up to his final year of school, Ludwig was nicknamed "Shorty Greasy Spot Spot" which he grew to hate, flying into a rage if it was mentioned in his presence. Due to his upbringing and the fact he was bullied, Ludwig became a psychopathic man determined to get power by any means necessary which he did by kidnapping Blackadder and Melchett while holding the two men prisoner. When his plan failed, Ludwig used the information he'd gotten from the two of them to infiltrate the palace in hopes of killing Queenie or Queen Elizabeth I. However, his disguise which consisted of him wearing a cow outfit was in vain as Blackadder promptly stabbed him, forcing Ludwig to reveal himself. He later reacted with rage when Queenie mentioned his nickname and attempted to flee, swearing he'd return and get his revenge or "rewengey", only for Blackadder to throw a dagger at Ludwig, either killing or wounding him. However, after the credits aired, it was revealed that Ludwig had returned and after killing Queenie, gone on to murder Blackadder, Baldrick, Melchett, Percy Percy and Nursie, making him the first and only villain in the Blackadder series to have succeeded in achieving his goal.

2-Lieutenant The Hon. George Colthurst St. Barleigh, MC- Appearing in Blackadder Goes Forth, George is a descendant of Prince George from Blackadder the Third. Unlike Prince George, Lieutenant George is a kind man willing to do anything to help his comrades, Captain Blackadder and Private Baldrick. In the Blackadder Goes Forth series finale episode, "Goodbyeee...", George begins expressing fear about the fact they'll going be over the top, noting he's the last member of his group, the Trinity College Tiddlywinks or the "Trinity Tiddlers". Despite this, George joins the group at dawn the next morning and they go overhead, everyone presumably dying in the process.

3- Prince George IV or the Prince Regent- Appearing in Blackadder the Third, Prince George IV is a bumbling, idiotic man who's so hopeless it takes a week for him to put on a pair of trousers without the help of his servant, Edmund Blackadder Esq. He's also vain. After sleeping with the two nieces of the Duke of Wellington, George dies at the hands of the Duke after the enraged man shoots him in the chest, only to awaken seconds later, believing he had a cigarillo case that shielded him from the fatal blow. Upon realizing he left at home on the dresser, George falls to the ground in the arms of Blackadder's dogsbody, S. Baldrick, this time dead for real while allowing Blackadder to continue ruling, disguised as Prince George.

4- Simon Partridge- Appearing in the Blackadder II episode, "Beer". Partridge is a man who is a drunk who has a love of rude words. He's also nicknamed "Farters Parters" or "Mr. Ostrich". It's never been confirmed if Partridge was a lone individual or one of the many disguises used by Prince Ludwig the Indestructible.

#hugh laurie #blackadder ii #blackadder the third #blackadder goes forth

[burlybanner]

madpatti commented on madpatti's photo “Decided to name them Baldrick�� and Elizabeth�� ( please accept that the...”

@burlybanner Why would that make any difference

Only because it could be interesting to flip the trope. The work is beautiful regardless, but seeing the female as the beautiful unicorn and the male as the buff dragon is normal. I like flipping tropes, but that’s on me. Regardless, it’s your work, and it should be celebrated as you choose it to be (what I want is immaterial).

#madpatti

[msdantelboutique]

William “Bill” John Gregory

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Treasured brother, uncle, great uncle and loyal friend to many, William "Bill" John Gregory was born in Grand Forks ND on March 7, 1953. Following a year long, valiant struggle to recover from a Traumatic Brain Injury, Bill passed away peacefully on January 4, 2018 in Rio Rancho NM.

Bill grew up in Fargo ND, graduating from Fargo South High School in 1972. He attended North Dakota State School of Science graduating in 1977 with an Associate Degree in Mechanical Drafting and Design Technology. He went on to graduate from the University of Northern Iowa in December 1981 with a Bachelor of Technology Degree. While at UNI, Bill also acquired his teaching certificate for secondary and post secondary education programs.

His professional employment experience began with FMC Corporation, Cedar Rapids IA followed by Branick Industries Inc, Fargo ND, Universal Metal Spinning Co, Albuquerque NM and Ethicon Endo-Surgery Inc, Albuquerque NM. A resident of Albuquerque NM since 1986, Bill’s tenure with Ethicon Endo-Surgery Inc. spanned 19 years concluding with his retirement in 2014.

Bill was an invaluable investor in numerous local and national charitable organizations. As an Ethicon Endo-Surgery Inc employee, he was a dedicated volunteer raising money for St Baldrick’s Foundation supporting childhood cancer research. His many years embracing St. Baldrick’s mission earned him recognition as a Knight in the organization’s League of Legendary Heroes. He also received an Ethicon Endo-Surgery Inc President’s Quality Award in 1997.

Bill was a consummate sports fan following countless college & professional teams. He cherished his time traveling & visiting longtime friends in ND, MN & NM. He taught, coached and/or participated in tennis, golf, volleyball, wrestling, softball, water skiing, snow skiing and scuba diving at different times during his life.

He was preceded in death by his parents, E. Jeanne Pribula Gregory and Robert Juel Gregory. Bill leaves his sister, Elizabeth, brothers, Lon(Rosemary), Jeffrey, Thomas and Christopher; niece, Lonna Whiting, nephew, Chad Whiting(Karie), grand niece, Mara, and grand nephew, Zander.

Bill asked that memorial gifts be made in his name to St. Baldrick’s Foundation at stbaldricks.org.

A Celebration of Life service for Bill will be held at a future date.

Those who wish to express their condolences may visit www.danielsfuneral.com. Bill’s care is entrusted to: Daniels – Alameda Mortuary, Albuquerque, NM, [phone].

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