Story [Sweeney Todd] Unforgotten (angst, mush) - Updated 10/1

Wonderful description. It makes it so tangible, I feel like I'm there.

My goal exactly. Thank you very much.

Well, she's an intelligent kid. She's bound to notice sooner or later, I just hope she doesn't get into devastating trouble because of it...

Let's see, is there any character in the universe of Sweeney Todd and his irrepressively strange cohorts who has not gotten into devastating trouble?

You know what word always makes me laugh? "Tonsorial". It's such a ridiculous-sounding word, I love it!

I know, so do I. I sort of think it's somewhat creepy-sounding, as well. But maybe it's only creepy-sounding to me, because I don't have any tonsils, so it elicits bad memories. Still, I crack up during the film version of ST when Bamford says the word "tonsorial". The way he says it is hilarious.

You've managed to get the atmosphere just right; I have this constant nail-biting worry for Margaret even as I'm reading her inner monologues, which is exactly what I want to see in a fic like this.

So it's not compartmentalized?

Dang, that's just so delectably (um... maybe I shouldn't be using that word...) creepy!

Delectable, but obviously not so undetectable!

I like the uneasy friendship between these two.

Maybe it's reminiscent of a certain uneasy alliance between a barber and a baker?

I love, that for someone who has a good grip on her logic and her observations, she still takes some things really literally.

Yep, I'm trying to remind the reader that while she's really smart and brave and logical and all that good hero stuff, she's still a really little kid, and there's only so much she can do to influence her surroundings, and only so much that she can actually understand.

If we're where I think we are in the story... uh oh...

Indeed we are. Major uh oh.

Great job, QGR!

Thanks, Idri.

P.S. If I may take this opportunity to remind a certain lovely someone that she has two PMs from a Miss Idrelle Miocovani that need to be replied to. Sometime, when said lovely person has the time.

Flattery will get you nowhere.

 

Well, obviously not. Devastating trouble just kind of follows them around like a great, big overgrown bat...

Mark of a great actor right there.

I think I want to look up the etymology of "tonsorial" now...

Oh, ha ha.

*snigger*

A little bit, yeah. Just goes to show the influence a certain barber and a certain baker have on their "wards".

Yay!

I shall switch tactics.

PS. I love your colours and your icon. Very pretty.

 

Devastating trouble just kind of follows them around like a great, big overgrown bat...

Now I'm imagining an actual great, big overgrown bat following Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett around. I don't think they'd appreciate that.

Mark of a great actor right there.

Spall's nothing if not a great actor.

I think I want to look up the etymology of "tonsorial" now...

Turns out, it has nothing whatsoever to do with tonsils.

A little bit, yeah. Just goes to show the influence a certain barber and a certain baker have on their "wards".

I can't see them wanting to marry their wards, though.

I shall switch tactics.

I'm panicking a little right now because I had a Word document that I was using to store my PM responses to you, and I can't remember what name I saved it under, and I can't remember which computer it was on. If I don't find it, that's going to delay my PM another year or two.

PS. I love your colours and your icon. Very pretty.

Glad you approve. I'm the most squeamish, least evil, and most unofficial member of the House of Slytherin.

 

The great, overgrown bat thing is one of my fav expressions to use. I think it's a paraphrase of a line from one of the early HP books, where someone (probably Harry, I can't remember exactly) describes Snape as a great, overgrown bat.

You know, I cheered when he showed up in Branaugh's Hamlet playing Rosencrantz... or was it Guildenstern?

Go figure... English, would you stop being such a silly language, PLEASE?

Oh, ha ha.

I can always resend them, my PM inbox isn't very deep so I know where they are in my sent messages. Just say the word.

Oh yes, the next time the JC House Cup comes around, I am definitely recruiting you to play for my House...

Okay, now that I'm done derailing your thread...

 

Well, this is it, ladies and gents. It's been fun. It's been real fun, and I'm really going to miss playing around with this story. An enormous thanks to everyone who read it, and everyone who will read it in the future. You guys are awesome, and I wouldn't write this crazy stuff if not for you. I'd just be a total Emily Dickinson and hoard my insanity. Once again, please enjoy, and thanks for coming along during this brief but emotional journey with these wonderful characters, and the girl who stumbled into their strange world. Not meaning me.

---

Margaret watched Toby enter the pie shop with a growing, gnashing, gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach. She couldn?t understand why she was so on edge, and she couldn?t understand why her mind was so ill at ease, but something definitely felt very wrong about tonight, something that might simply have entered a realm beyond her understanding. The clock on the Bell Tower began to wail, emitting a slow, lonely song that marked the passing of another hour, and the shadows of evening started to fade into the darkness of night. Margaret knew that it was generally unwise to stand around in the streets of London at this time of day, when all manner of cutthroats and vermin roamed the sidewalks and alleyways in search of a purse that was a little too full for the good of the fine gentleman or lady who carried it. But she didn?t want to go inside, not just yet. She didn?t want to go inside. Not now. Not tonight.

It was so silly, she kept telling herself. So foolish. Almost as silly and foolish as what happened the dreadful and wonderful day she met Mr. Todd. It was so silly, and it was so foolish, and Margaret was ashamed. What would her mother have said? Margaret hung her head at the thought. Her mother would have told her how silly and foolish it was, and how stupid she was being, and how ridiculous the whole thing really was, and mum was always right about everything. Margaret owed everything to her.

The young girl watched twilight descend upon Fleet Street until all of the buildings and the few stray carriages and the ragged, dusty roads were bathed in black on black. She had lived most of her life around these streets, and it wasn?t much of a life, but it was more than a lot of people had the chance to call their own. It wasn?t much of a life, but she had seized it and lived it and earned to right to keep it because she had learned to trust herself more than she trusted others. She loved Mr. Todd, the odd-mannered barber with the sad eyes and the strange smile. She loved young Toby, the small boy with mussed hair and a simple, honest way of speaking. She loved them, and she didn?t want to lose them. But Margaret had a feeling about tonight, and it was this kind of feeling that had kept her alive for so long. This was the kind of feeling it would be fatal to ignore.

If she went inside that shop tonight, something terrible would happen to her. She couldn?t explain how she knew it, but she knew it as well as she knew her own name. Something horrible was going to happen tonight, and even if it didn?t touch her, even if she lived through it, even if she wasn?t harmed, she would lose something. She would lose a part of herself. Margaret knew this. She was more certain about this than she had ever been about anything in six long, long years of breathing. Margaret knew.

She also knew what she had to do. Well, mum had always said she would never amount to anything. Looks like she was right, as usual.

Margaret opened the door to Mrs. Lovett?s pie shop and went inside.

It was very quiet in there, and very dark. Mrs. Lovett wasn?t in the kitchen or the back room, and all the customers had gone home for the evening. Margaret heard faint voices coming from upstairs, at least two of them male, and one definitely female, but she couldn?t identify any of them. A lone cockroach who had managed to escape Mrs. Lovett?s massacre scuttled across the scuffed floor and down the sunken flight of stairs at the back of the room.

 

Well, this has been a fun ride, hasn't it? Yay!

Now, you're just having fun with the alliteration.

Oh, nice. Thanks for that.

(My very hungry stomach hates you right now, but that was an awesome line considering what part of the play/movie we're all... )

Heh. Excellent comparison. The cycle starts all over again...

4:02 - "Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker man. Bake me a cake ? No, no, bake me a pie... to delight my eye. And I will sigh, if the crust be high... Mr. Todd? [...] Pat him and prick him and mark him with B, and put him in the oven for baby and me!"

Toby, dearest Toby...

Damn it! The parallels between these two and another set of characters are making my brain go berserk. And now I'm getting all tingly in the eyes and it has nothing to do with allergies... eep.

That's really all I can say right now. Really. You've managed to make my mind go almost completely blank because I think my Muse is in love with what you've done here with this story. Really, really... well done.

 

Well, this has been a fun ride, hasn't it? Yay!

Fun, depressing, illuminating, and just generally really awesome. Just like Sweeney in general.

Now, you're just having fun with the alliteration.

Guilty as charged.

Oh, nice. Thanks for that.

Hey, there hasn't been one truly gross part in this entire fan fic. We're long overdue.

(My very hungry stomach hates you right now, but that was an awesome line considering what part of the play/movie we're all... )

Mwah-ha-ha-ha! Thank you, though.

4:02 - "Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker man. Bake me a cake ? No, no, bake me a pie... to delight my eye. And I will sigh, if the crust be high... Mr. Todd? [...] Pat him and prick him and mark him with B, and put him in the oven for baby and me!"

Now that we're all thoroughly depressed... And I think I have something in my eye.

Damn it! The parallels between these two and another set of characters are making my brain go berserk.

Good! I was trying to parallel how Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett's relationship ended at the end of the story, and show the effect that this relationship and its consequences had on an obviously innocent person. It's part of my Everbody's Innocent in Sweeney Todd! campaign.

That's really all I can say right now. Really. You've managed to make my mind go almost completely blank because I think my Muse is in love with what you've done here with this story. Really, really... well done.

*gasp* Did I...Could it even be possible? Did I...actually...make Idri speechless? That's...that's impossible! That defies all reason and rationality in a chaotic universe! Seriously, thank you very, very much. Especially since that ending gave me a real headache. I must've refined it like ten times, and it was a bloody nightmare. I took a whole three paragraphs out, added two more, took out a couple of sentence and ended up scrapping another paragraph, deleted everything and started over, decided I liked the old version better, and finally gave up and decided to sleep on it. You see, I've grown somewhat attached to Margaret, and she definitely didn't deserve a lame ending. So I'm infinitely happy you don't think it's lame. And coming from the Sweeney guru, I'm doubly happy and honored.

 

Fun, depressing, illuminating, and just generally really awesome. Just like Sweeney in general.

Well, that just about sums it up.

Guilty as charged.

Not a problem! Alliteration is as cool as fezzes and bowties.

Hey, there hasn't been one truly gross part in this entire fan fic. We're long overdue.

Lots of creep-tastic stuff, but nothing truly gross. About time, I agree.

Now that we're all thoroughly depressed... tongue And I think I have something in my eye.

Pass the popcorn.

I was trying to parallel how Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett's relationship ended at the end of the story, and show the effect that this relationship and its consequences had on an obviously innocent person. It's part of my Everbody's Innocent in Sweeney Todd! campaign.

Society's to blame! ... You need campaign posters.

*gasp* Did I...Could it even be possible? Did I...actually...make Idri speechless? That's...that's impossible!

It's either that, or my brain is just too worn out and tired to function correctly. I think the former is nicer than the latter, but it's probably a mix of the two.

You see, I've grown somewhat attached to Margaret, and she definitely didn't deserve a lame ending. So I'm infinitely happy you don't think it's lame.

The word lame didn't even cross my mind, so evidently you did something write in all of your edits.

And coming from the Sweeney guru, I'm doubly happy and honored.

You're welcome. And I'm honoured that you think of me as the Sweeney guru.

 

Well, that just about sums it up.

The day I write a successful summary is the day you get knocked speechless.

Not a problem! Alliteration is as cool as fezzes and bowties.

Agreed.

Society's to blame! ... You need campaign posters.

And flashing badges. Where are Fred and George Weasley when you need them?

It's either that, or my brain is just too worn out and tired to function correctly. I think the former is nicer than the latter, but it's probably a mix of the two.

I thought so. You could never be properly speechless.

The word lame didn't even cross my mind, so evidently you did something write in all of your edits.

Was that a play on words, or just a simple typo?

 

That tends to be what happens when you're philosophy says there is always something to be said. Always.

...

...

...

Um...

...

Play on words? Pretty please?