Klarosummer Bingo prompt: Shakespeare in the park

The sweat stung her eyes as Caroline helped Bonnie lift the unwieldy metal archway from the pristine lawn, wondering if Matt's beat-up truck bed would be long enough to transport it back to the park where the rest of their theater group had started building the sets. The Shakespeare in the Park Event was going to be a success; Caroline had put too much of herself into the pre-production planning to let it all fall apart now. Even if their flighty director Sibyl had decided at the latest minute to turn this year's production of Titus Andronicus into a fusion Western.

Because of the last-minute changes, she and Bonnie had been scrambling to source low-cost props that would transform the production sets into an Old West-style town with a Shakespearian twist. To help stretch their meager budget, Caroline had the brilliant idea to drive around the fancier side of town on trash collection day to see if they spotted any furniture that could be repurposed.

"You know, all this dumpster diving could've been avoided if you'd just played nice with Damon," Bonnie grumbled as she struggled to hold up her end of the metal structure. "I know he's a jerk, but he's Stefan's brother and agent and he convinced Stefan to star in the production for free to boost ticket sales. He even offered to pay for the set costs; all he wanted was—"

She shook her head violently, nearly adding another dent to Matt's battered fender. "Was for the female cast to agree to a gross version of 'Girls Gone Wild' theater edition calendar as part of the promotional materials. It's one thing to celebrate the female form, but another to make it mandatory for the entire female cast. I shut that shit down as soon as Sibyl brought it to me."

Bonnie awkwardly cleared her throat, telling her quietly, "Oh. Um, I didn't realize that's what he was after. I just overheard him ask Sibyl for the girls to do some promotional posters. I didn't know about that part of it." Grunting under the weight of the archway, her tone turned outraged as she added, "To hell with Damon then. We don't need his help."

"Exactly," Caroline nodded, using the corner of her t-shirt sleeve to wipe her sweaty forehead. She recalled with a pang that in addition to their concerns about sourcing props, they still hadn't cast the lead, Tamora, the Bandit Queen. Normally, anyone in their theater group would relish the opportunity to play such a well-written villain, but everyone knew that it would mean sharing almost every scene with the other lead, Titus, who'd be played by Stefan.

While Stefan was a classically trained actor whose enviable professional career included numerous Broadway productions and several well-known Indie film accolades, behind the scenes, he was a pompous ass who clearly thought his talent allowed him to rise above common manners...and hygiene. Apparently, he was in the middle of a durian fruit and fermented soybean paste juice cleanse that made him smell like an outhouse in July and the organic sardine oil hair gel he insisted on wearing made one's eyes water if you got too close.

Caroline sighed in exasperation, "Can't you just play Tamora this one time? Sibyl's getting desperate and she's one crazy eye twitch away from making us meditate underwater to commune with our inner siren. Again."

"Nope. Besides, it's just like Demetrius says in Act 2: 'She is a woman, therefore must be wooed.' So far, no one's done much to woo me into taking this role. Let's just stall a bit longer. Surely some nitwit will stupidly volunteer because Stefan's their sad little celebrity crush."

Caroline favored her friend with a small smile, hoping she was right. She tossed Bonnie several bungee cords and began tying down the archway to make sure it didn't fall out of the truck when she heard a woman's indignant screech.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing; traipsing about our lawn as though you lived here?"

They both looked up to see an intimidatingly beautiful blonde come storming out of the impressive colonial-style mansion, waving her arms angrily at the truck. Following close at her heels was an equally attractive man with a dimpled smirk, and Caroline inwardly questioned whether a free archway was worth what looked like an exasperating conversation.

"We were careful not to step on your flowerbeds," she called out, wondering what the big deal was, "and your gardener told us that you'd approved the removal of the archway to be tossed out on trash day. Since you didn't want it, we're repurposing it."

The blonde crossed her arms, eyeing Caroline's paint-stained t-shirt and cutoff shorts disdainfully. "Do you just flit through posh neighborhoods, collecting rubbish then?"

A frown crossed the handsome man's face, and he hissed, "That's enough, Rebekah." He stepped forward, offering his hand for Caroline to shake as he introduced himself. "I'm Klaus, and this vengeful harpy is my sister, Rebekah." He gestured toward the legs of the archway that Bonnie had been struggling to tie down. "And yes, the gardener had been instructed to toss that out. Do you need any help making it secure?"

"Honestly, brother, the blonde doesn't look particularly discerning. I'm sure offering to buy her a beer would require less effort and produce the same results."

Caroline felt her temper flare, but she didn't have time to get into it with whatever crippling insecurities this woman had dragged with her into adulthood. She also saw that familiar vicious smile of Bonnie's, the one that had signaled two separate brawls down at the Mystic Bar and the super-charged prune and apricot laxative in an ex's drink. She quickly said, "I'm Caroline and that's Bonnie. We're out looking for things we could turn into props for our local theater group. Bonnie, why don't you get them a flyer out of the front seat?"

Bonnie ungraciously thrust the flyer at Klaus, who immediately seemed intrigued by the unique Old West-inspired wanted poster that formed the background of the ad. "You're performing Titus Andronicus as a Western," he asked, a healthy bit of skepticism in his accented voice as he said dryly, "That's one of those creative ventures that's either positively inspired or sheer madness."

"It can be two things," Caroline cheerfully agreed as she helped him secure the remaining side of the metalwork into the truck bed.

Klaus chuckled, sharing a smile with her that made her grateful for the already stifling morning so he would assume she was just flushed from the heat. His tone turned thoughtful as he offered, "Actually love, if you're searching for pieces to help sell the Old West atmosphere, there's some leftover ceiling beams from when we remodeled the downstairs study — perhaps they could be made into a fence? In fact, I happen to have some kits leftover to transform pieces into more of an antique woodgrain appearance if you'd like to have them."

Caroline's eyes lit up with wonder. "That sounds perfect, thank you!" She did her best not to fidget under his warm gaze, trying to sound casual as she asked, "Uh, do you maybe want to stop by the park sometime to see how the sets are coming along?" She caught the teasing little half-grin on Bonnie's face and knew she'd hear all about it later.

"I'd be honored," he quickly answered, that accent of his doing fluttery things to her stomach that Caroline was helpless to ignore.

"Really, you'd offer utter strangers African mahogany," Rebekah scoffed, snatching the flyer from Klaus.

While Caroline had no idea what that actually meant, from the way the tips of his ears reddened, it sounded like their production company just received an unexpected windfall. As Bonnie was texting Jeremy to bring his truck over to pick up Klaus' generous donation, an odd, strangled noise came out of the angry blonde that made everyone glance over in surprise.

"You're part of the Shakespeare in the Park Event," she asked faintly, her perfectly manicured hands shaking slightly as she seemed to be rereading the same few lines on the flyer in disbelief. "You get to work with Stefan Salvatore, one of the greatest modern talents of both stage and screen?"

Bonnie raised an eyebrow, telling her flatly, "Yeah, he's playing Titus, the reformed bank robber returning to his family's homestead. So far, it's been...something."

Rebekah's entire demeanor changed, and she was practically bouncing as she gushed, "I've seen all of his shows on Broadway and his movies and I'd wanted to stop by the park for an autograph but was told it was a closed rehearsal. I'd do anything to meet him!"

Caroline exchanged a sly look with Bonnie, who looked positively gleeful. "Well, as it so happens, we need someone to play Tamora..."


Klarosummer Bingo prompt: Swimming hole

It was said to be a place of bad spirits. Since distant memory, the villagers shunned it and only spoke of it in fearful, hushed tones. But Caroline had been desperate and Katerina needed to rest, so she'd swallowed her worries and guided her friend over the fallen trees to the hidden swimming hole in the forest. She helped Katerina settle onto the small blankets they'd stolen from a basket, and then knelt by the water and filled the roughly carved wooden bowl.

"Drink, Katerina. Your baby needs you to be strong." She couldn't keep the tremor from her voice as she observed her flushed skin and harsh breathing. Once it had been revealed in their village that Katerina was pregnant, her family had forced Katerina to remain inside to hide their deep shame. Caroline listened to the villagers whisper, learning disturbing rumors that left her with little choice.

First, the Petrova patriarch had arranged for the baby to be sent away to a convent, clearly expecting to dangle Katerina in front of the lesser nobles to make a favorable match once the rumors had died down. That alone was enough to force Caroline to take action, but then she heard the darker stories — that a seer had foretold of malevolent creatures who would come for Katerina and her child, that they desired their blood for unspeakable rituals. It was said that they would hide behind a pleasing human visage, but would be nothing more than cruel, vicious monsters.

"Rest with me, Caroline," Katerina, said, clutching her belly that barely had begun to swell, "you'll need your strength too." Her dark eyes darted around the shaded area, clearly finding the unnaturally silent woods unnerving. "Whatever we must endure, it is to be faced together."

Caroline finally saw the wisdom of her friend's words, only realizing as she sat beside her how weary she'd become. Staring down at her mud-caked turnshoes, she sighed as she contemplated her plan. The best place to disappear would be in a larger city, and the closest one to their tiny village was Vidin. While it was an obvious choice and she worried that they would be followed, it also was a port city and perhaps they could hide among some ship's cargo and never be found by the Petrovas or the fearsome creatures from the prophecy.

She reached into the hidden pockets she'd sewn into her underdress, pulling out the thin, copper coins she'd managed to save over the years, plus the simple silver bracelet she'd spitefully stolen from the Petrova patriarch's hateful mistress. "This is what I could gather without rousing suspicion. While it will serve us until the next moon, I want us to secure better sleeping quarters soon."

Katerina nodded, placing a steady hand upon hers. "We will do better than survive the coming troubles. We will thrive," she swore vehemently.

Caroline knew of hardship. She'd also learned firsthand what it meant to survive. As a small child, she'd been found by some of the villagers, wandering alone in the woods, crying and screeching in a nonsensical language. They'd thought her mad, and some even suspected she'd been touched by demons. It was said that the elders had subjected her to the holy trials where it was confirmed she was human, and therefore they did not cast her out.

While a family had taken her in, it was a small mercy as she forever was treated as an outsider. She'd no memories of her life before the village, and was told that all she'd been able to communicate had been her first name. Whatever memories she'd had of her native tongue and her people had been lost to her over the years as she grew into a young woman, building a meager life for herself in the village.

Katerina had been one of the few to show her kindness, even going so far as to tell off the dangerous old letch who'd attempted to force an offer of marriage on Caroline. He'd stank of spoiled boar meat and dogged her steps for several moons, but it wasn't until Katerina had hissed violent words that he'd ceased his vile attentions. It was her most cherished friendship, and she swore to protect Katerina just as she'd done for her.

"We can't stay long," she murmured regretfully, feeling the unnatural shift in the wind. "Something's coming; I can feel it."

Her friend nodded quickly, helping Caroline gather the blankets to place in the burlap sack that carried the last of their food rations. As the still waters began to churn, she hissed fearfully, "This is old magic, something of the dark tales the seer used to spout. The air screams with it."

The swimming hole came alive, a swirling vortex of brilliant colors that left the women speechless as they watched two men emerge from its depths. Caroline blinked, and suddenly the strangers were before them, studying them intently. It truly was a place of bad spirits.

She didn't like the way the man with dark hair was gazing possessively at her friend. As he reached for her hand and whispered, "Katerina," Caroline quickly stood in between them, pushing her friend behind her. Despite the venomous threats that Katerina hissed at the men, Caroline could feel her trembling.

Caroline clutched the wooden bowl, finding the roughest edge with her thumb and positioning it so she could hopefully slice into the other man's dimpled cheekbone if he came any closer. She couldn't help but notice the way his handsome features reflected intense relief when he saw her. "Caroline," he breathed, stepping forward just as Caroline pushed Katerina more firmly behind her, snarling at him until he seemed almost hurt by her visceral reaction.

The men were clean-shaven, with closely cropped locks and wearing strange garments. They cut a formidable presence, and she could sense power and something other about them. Were these the malevolent creatures the seer had foretold would come for Katerina and her baby?

The dimpled stranger ran a hand through his short curls in frustration, rapidly spitting out words in a garbled language that she didn't understand. Both men seemed to register her confusion, exchanging an unreadable look. They seemed surprised that she didn't understand them, and proceeded to have a brief, intense argument using that same mysterious, sharp-edged language.

Finally, the curly-haired man shocked her by suddenly speaking the native tongue of Katerina's village, stumbling a bit with his accented words as though it had been ages since he'd spoken the language. "Caroline, you've no idea how pleased I am to see you again. I know this will be hard to understand, but you're actually from another timeline, approximately 500 years in the future. My future. When you were a child, my enemies ripped you out of time and space, sending you to a moment when my present self would be the most dangerous."

Caroline could feel Katerina's reassuring grip on her hand, and she silently squeezed back, doing her best not to do something foolish like faint in the face of these fanciful tales. She desperately wanted to believe that these men were touched by madness, but there was something in their demeanor that was difficult to ignore. It went beyond their implied power, their otherness.

It felt like fate.