Chapter 31 – I Know Things Now

The very first thing Eppie did after her morning routine with Ava and Halle was to return her costume. There was one or two cat-holes on the bodice, though Ms McGregor didn’t seem to mind, and merely told her to leave it in the used pile for processing.

She then swung by the Quest Board, noted the absence of Seniors, and attended her first morning class with Dr Kirby.

Inside the cramped room, the students of English Honours were half-asleep and fatigue-drunk from their Halloween activities, slumping over tables and chairs.

At the projector whiteboard, Dr Kirby was her usual spry self, all passion and brimstone whenever the topic of literature crossed her path.

They had started on Titus Andronicus, and the week’s focus was on Hamartia, Honour, and the hooks established in Act I.

The plot goes that the late emperor’s two sons, Saturninus and Bassianus, are publicly competing for the throne when Titus Andronicus returns from a decade of war against the Goths—meaning Germanic barbarians. Like Caesar, Titus brings home prisoners and loot; he brings them the famed Tamora, Queen of the Goths, her three kids, and a Moorish lover.

To excite the students, Dr Kirby did her best to engage them by explaining that Tamora was, in Eppie’s 2020 vernacular, a Goth Baddie in the literal sense. She is so strikingly beautiful that the Emperor’s sons are smitten almost instantly.

The kids cringed, but Eppie very much enjoyed the anachronism.
Titus’ first act is to immolate Alarbus, Tamora’s firstborn, as an offering to his own son killed in the battle. Tamora begs on her knees, and Titus refuses.

“Pietas”, he says. This is the way.

The first domino teeters. Titus chose Saturninus as the next Emperor because of tradition. As reciprocation, Saturninus chooses Lavinia as his wife and Empress. Titus agrees, Lavinia does not. This is because Lavinia was promised the second son, Bassianus. The second domino teetered.

Bassianus and Mutius, Titus’ own son, then tried to abduct Lavinia to satisfy the notion of their honour. Titus murdered his own son, Mutius, for dishonour.
The third domino now stood.

Not wanting the noise, Saturninus pivoted to his heart’s true desire, the Goth Baddie Tamora. Tamora, now Empress, publicly made peace with Titus… but plotted revenge in secret.
The fourth domino, larger than all the rest, was ready to tip.

“SEVENTEEN times—” Kirby told them as a revelation. “Seventeen times, one character or another explicitly justified their actions by involving the idea of Roman Law, Roman Honour, Roman Virtue. It’s a sickness.”

The woman pointed to the character map.

“He gives away his daughter to a man she does not love. He kills his own son for dishonour. This isn’t noted as madness, insanity, or psychopathy. It’s noted as?”

“Piety,” Maddie answered from the back.

“Yes, Piety,” Kirby popped the word onto the projector with a Sharpie. “Pietas. Duty to the family, the Gods, the nation. In that very specific order. He justifies everything, consciously or unconsciously, via dogma. This is a dangerous way of thinking, and it disrupts civil and natural order. It’s a lesson our nations continue to struggle with, on an existential level.”

Everyone’s pens moved, but not Eppie’s.
Her mind had long since drifted out of Titus Andronicus onto Fat Lim Wang’s tale of self-incrimination.

Filial Piety.
That was why Lim had done everything for William, to pay the Chen family back for what they had done to ensure that the Five Families had their lives in America. The Chens had kept them in thrall with unwanted charity; only William was too dumb and too psychopathic to understand that the families acted out of piety, not fear.

“Lavinia is given away like property,” Kirby continued. “The man she respects the most of all gives her away. The man who would own her, Bassianus, argues for her. Her brother then makes a decision for her. Lavinia speaks many lines, great lines—but her silence is deafening.”

“Miss Fontaine?”

Eppie looked up. Dr Kirby was asking her a question. She had noted that Eppie’s eyes were staring into the middle distance. Either Eppie had fallen asleep, or she was daydreaming.

“Why is Pietas a pitfall?”

Eppie considered this for a moment. Thankfully, she didn’t need Dr Kirby to know the answer.

“It’s orthodoxy. Orthodoxy is unthinking,” she replied. “These men act because they are internally justified. So external justification feels unnecessary.” She met her teacher’s eyes. “They just act. They succeed, or fail, but they do not question. Those who challenge them must be the ones asking why. Not themselves. That’s the danger of Pietas.“

Just like how William never thought deeply about what he had done to Mio.
Just as it took the tragedy of a cherished friend to awaken Lim.

And for herself: a drowning.

Kirby looked surprised, then relieved. “Well done, Eppie.” She said. Then, to the room, she told them to, “Write that down.”

For homeroom, Eppie caught up on the homework she had neglected due to all her extracurricular activities while socialising as best as she could, shocking her friends with her aptitude at Algebra.

In the Algebra class that followed, she did her work, then daydreamed about the events to come.

On Saturday, she had a meeting with Eric regarding the professional promo shoots at a place near Culver City. She also had to meet with Charlene Lafitte to explore new angles on the developing story of Mio and enlist her help in finding the missing Senior.

Before next Sunday, Umbrella was very likely going to hit the charts like a meteor, meaning there was absolutely a future instance where she, the songwriter, would appear with Noah on a stage involving a red carpet.

The Fall Gala was six weeks away, but final arrangements were due on Friday, the 16th of November, and they would have to perform a working run-through in front of the Music Chair, Dr Lucas Ford.

This meant that, even ignoring potential problems with William and Valorie, she had a lot of work to cover in a very short period of time.

In Arts Block, sanity returned.

Costello waited until they were all in their socks on the wooden floor, then informed them that yesterday was but a “Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Now,” he commanded the class. “Walk.”

In the black box, they began from scratch, catching that feeling they had before Halloween took their souls.

Compared to the others, Eppie’s soul hadn’t yet returned.

While her [Physicality] and [Act Natural] performed on autopilot, a part of her was still in that basement, dosed with the scent of cat urine, carrying the weight of Mr Chin’s origin.

Sole. Heel. Sole. Heel. Step. Step. Step.

Costello stopped in front of her.
Her teacher was not displeased. He merely looked at her feet, looked at her eyes, then asked: “How are you?”

“I am good,” she said.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Here?” Eppie met his gaze.

“Talk to me if you need it,” her teacher said. “Principal Burton already passed on his wishes.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Good, now focus.”

Eppie breathed in the air-conditioned air. She felt the grain of the floor through her feet, then she allowed the weight to drop, returning her body to neutral. As a baby, she was learning to walk all over again.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

At rehearsal, Cooper ran the confrontation scene three times: once according to the script, once ad-lib, and once hybridised. Having done her duty as a cat, she now returned to the role of Postmodern Antigone with gusto, stripping back from the habits of classical tragedy to be more modern, more herself.

That, or things were simply easier to process when one was involved in a knee-deep, real-life tragedy.

Other than Eppie’s praise, the others were coming along very nicely as well.

James Jules, “Jimmy” now, was taking to Creon with a more natural air. His Creon was becoming more lordly, less angry, less frustrated, and more indignant. He became a man of orthodoxy, a man who did not doubt his Pietas.

Chloe shone as well. Away from Valorie and William, she really did begin to shine, almost like a discovery of sorts. Her Ismene expressed emotions of love and longing that ventured a little beyond sisterly love, but it was all the same on stage, where the facial expressions supplemented bodily language. The way she held her hand, the way she made eyes at Antigone that were full of worry, pain and pity, she was doing well.

Without the Playhouse, Minjun and the technical crew had no overt role other than aiding Costello.

Tyker joined them halfway in, having just finished her work at the Whitman’s Theatre with the Seniors. She advised the players on the microdynamics of their acting, while reminding them of lighting cues, music, and the spatial aspects of the actual stage.

“Well done, all,” Costello clapped at the end. “We’re getting there. I am very much looking forward to your Fall Galas.”

Cameron Atkinson passed out an updated Prompt Book. Sage Copeland drew small stars and explained lighting changes with highlights and underlines.