Enter:
playerprince, message2allfriends.
Stage:
Email exchange between Finch Tucker, packing for college, and Nick Tucker, miles away.
<<Finch to Nick>> Nicholas, it feels like you've been marked for hot vengeance. A rod of heaven, cast down to punish me for my faith. How else could such mean attempts and bare boredom be grafted onto the greatness of our blood, held level on you?
<<Nick to Finch>> I'm doubtless I can purge myself of all my charges. But my youth has wandered faulty, sometimes, irregular.
<<Finch to Nick>> You hold a wing different from other Tucker brothers. You've lost your moderator position, you're a stranger to the District. Like a comet, I've been wondered at; but you only sit common, hack'n'eyed, a player-prince. Apropos of your username. Plucking allegiance from the hearts of the tavern court. I see now how thin my presence is, a robe, never seen but wondered at. Accompanied by shallow jesters and burnt by capering fools. And in that very line, now, Nick, you stand.
<<Nick to Finch>> I've done all of that.
<<Finch to Nick>> Hotspur has more worthy interest to the District than you.
<<Nick to Finch>> I know.
<<Finch to Nick>> He holds a chief majority, capital, even. But what say you to this?
<<Nick to Finch>> Don't think so. I will redeem all of this, some glorious stupid day, be bold to tell you that I am your brother. Even stained by my previous favors, which when washed away will scour my shame with it. And that's when me and Hotspur will meet. Him, all-praised. Me, a dishonorable American dog. I'll call him to so strict account that we'll get even.
<<Finch to Nick>> Are you being truthful, to me?
<<Nick to Finch>> I'd rather die than break the parcel of this vow.
<<Finch to Nick>> You have sovereign control of the District, from now on. I hope you're being honest.