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Shakespeare in Crescent
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Places are those found in Shakespeare's plays and the people that may be hanging around.
A favourite opening for me A heath near Forres, don't like the look of those three old bints in hoodies, declaring home Athens.
Toil and Trouble declared.
Well, under T&T I'll have to open with the standard Venice, home at Elsinore.
Forest of Arden
Another Part of the Forest. We seem to be in a Forest of Arden loop already.
Not if I counter with Verona - doubled
Not wishing to name drop, Caesar's house maintaining Italy and giving up two red tokens to a passing servant.
From Italy, the obvious move is to the Bohemian seacoast.
I'm not much good at MC so I'll restrict myself to the axiomatic. Illyria.
I'm not sure of this. An indistinguish'd space of woman's will might be sufficiently vague. Home near Dover.
Muddying the waters with Cyprus, and dropping a handkerchief in lieu of a podume.
Alexandria
London, the Tower, home at my second best bed.
Birnam Wood.
[Néa] Hey! Stop moving when it isn't your turn!
*menacing rustle*
Dunsinane, shunting Néa.
On a ship at sea, home at Troy
The Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap invoking a pox on all swarthy rascals
*The same, an hour later*
Exeunt. Is that in Devon?
Norway. (where, coincidentally I'll be from tomorrow until Tuesday.)
Sorry, I should have said. That's Norway the place, not Norway the person.
The Blasted Heath, home at Bottom
Aleppo mastering a tiger
Capulet's orchard, quietly.
In prison and also keeping quiet, should the gaoler hear me.
In a cowslip's bell
(Actually I was lying).
Antigonus, hazard of pursuing bears.
Prison, shunting Inkspot to a nunnery.
a nutshell, counting myself King of Infinite Space
A sea of troubles, shunting the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune to Raak.
Black and white is just not me, but Ephesus shoud wreck Néa's chances of recovery for a couple of moves.
Popping back in, peering through the chink in the wall.
The battlements of Elsinore Castle, putting in a hasty call to Ghostbusters.
[Inkspot]
I shunted thee to a most pleasant place
where maidens fair would surely round thee flock
Thy turn would there have seem'd to pass apace
and yet thou placed'st versus me a block!
But I will blight thee, and with thee thy house
And every body who against me jeered
A pox upon thy oxen and thy cows
And may thy cousin's mother grow a beard!
Thy tokens' colours all will change to pink
Thy summers will be frozen, winters mild
Thy quadrants shall be wobbly, and I think
That all thy river-crossings will go wild.
Old Ruttsborough could ne'er so vengeful be
So as to wreak what I have wrought on thee.
[Tuj] I oppose your sea of troubles, thus ending them. This means I can open at Bosworth Field home at London, The Tower.

Poor Inkspot hath young Néa's hackles raised
And vitriol doth spurt from ev'ry pore
'Twould be a miracle if he unscathed
Return'd with visage fair as 'twas before !
Me fears he'll gaze in woe upon his flank
And see his podumes stricken with the pox
Diagonally blocked and placed in frank
His striles averted; straddles placed in locks
His chances now of winning ? Not a prayer
'Tis never counsel wise to cross young Néa !

A Street, with torches.
Summer's Day, comparisons denied.
A churchyard with aright pair of clowns playing Mornington Crescent.
*shouts, screams generally goes wild for Inkspot*

Well strike me dumb ! Despite my warnings dire
And Néa's verbal lamming of the chap
Young Inkspot hath cross'd first the blessèd wire
And wrought himself a vict'ry free from hap.
Pure skilful play; A coup de grâce serene
Hath brought him to this situation pleasant
Such moves delight the audience unseen
Who echo, scream and shout "Mornington Crescent" !
And so the game is done; And though 'tis hard
We must bid fond adieu unto the Bard

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