The Sasspothecary Diaries (Abridged): Snark, Poison, Repeat
Project Overview
🏯 Welcome, Voices of the Rear Palace! 🎙️
Thank you for joining this cheeky, raunchy, and occasionally darkly sarcastic abridged adaptation of The Apothecary Diaries. This project blends historical intrigue with sharp humor, snappy banter, and a splash of sass that breathes new life into the original story.
🌸 About the Series
Set in the late Qing Dynasty’s imperial palace, The Apothecary Diaries follows Maomao ~ a sharp-tongued, quick-witted servant girl with a secret talent: she can read and write, skills almost unheard of in her position. When mysterious illnesses and palace intrigue arise, Maomao’s cunning and street-smart attitude become indispensable.
Our abridged series amplifies the drama and the absurdity: think of it as Downton Abbey meets Rick and Morty, with plenty of palace politics, poisoned cosmetics, and eunuch shenanigans ~ all served with a side of sarcasm and a wink.
🎭 Tone & Style
Humor: Raunchy, irreverent, dry, with undertones of gallows humor.
Dialogue: Snappy, punchy, often layered with sarcasm or innuendo.
Drama: High-stakes court politics, but with a self-aware edge that lets us laugh with and at the chaos.
Recording Style: Minimal shouting ~ most lines are more smirk than scream. Dry wit, muttered sarcasm, and deadpan delivery are your best friends.
🎤 What We Need From You
Vocal flexibility – sarcasm, sensuality, smugness, or emotional depth depending on the character.
Open communication – deadlines are more like… guidelines, but we need to hear from you if life gets in the way. We’re chill, but not psychic.
Discord – Required for coordination, line deliveries, script drops, memes, moral support, and general chaos.
Mic quality – Please do your best with what you have. If needed, we can help with cleanup or alternate methods.
A willingness to play – improv, ad-libs, or spice added to the lines (within character) are very welcome!
🔔 Final Note
This is a passion project born out of love for the source, a love of voice acting, and probably not enough supervision. We’re aiming to build something fun, ridiculous, and unexpectedly heartfelt ~ a parody with bite, but also soul. Bring your quirks. Bring your chaos. Bring your best vocal gremlin energy. We can’t wait to hear what you bring to the palace.
Episodes One and Two are completely scripted and ready to go. New characters will be added to the audition roster as the series progresses.
Hey! Don’t stress about sounding exactly like the characters. What really matters is getting their vibe and personality across. Bring your own flavor, have fun with it, and trust your instincts... that’s what’s gonna make your performance stand out.
– The Rear Palace Abridged Team 🏯
https://tinyurl.com/sasspothocary
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Deputy Manager of the Rear Palace, Living Plot Twist, Royal Twink Supreme™ Jinshi is stupid beautiful, suspiciously competent, and dangerously under-qualified for the amount of responsibility he carries. He’s got palace secrets under his belt and unresolved trauma in his perfectly shaped eyebrows. Everyone wants him.
“You have two options: come quietly… or come sassily. Either way, you’re coming. And no, that’s not an innuendo. Yet.”
“You think I enjoy playing babysitter in a palace full of estrogen bombs and conspiracy farts? Your face says ‘why?’... mine says ‘therapy’s for the rich.’ We’re both screwed.”
“Forget justice. I’d lace the teapot with regret and arsenic just to make this conversation take a permanent nap.”
He’s Jinshi’s handler, damage control unit, and emotional support cynic. While Jinshi sparkles and emotionally combusts, Gaoshun is in the background muttering, “I told you so,” and bribing someone to make the scandal go away.
"Huh. You noticed the symptoms. And didn’t immediately recommend a bloodletting or herbal exorcism. I like you. You might have a brain under all that peasant grit. Rare."
“We’re knee-deep in curses, concubines, and courtiers with a collective IQ of room temperature. And you’re asking me to solve it? I’m flattered. Also, no.”
"Well, at least someone’s leaving clues that don’t involve backstabbing or butt-kissing. Progress."
Mature, wry, playful with subtle menace. She’s sexy, sharp, and always in control ... whether she’s running a high-class house or verbally undressing someone with a single eyebrow raise.
“Maomao! If you’re gonna keep cooking up chemical romance in my shop, try not to incinerate anything antique.”
“I don’t care what name they call you by, Maomao. To me, you’ve always been magic .... messy, maddening, and mine to protect.”
“Tell that senile stick of a mentor he still owes me a bathhouse visit. Shirtless. And conscious this time, preferably.”
A long-retired palace eunuch who somehow hasn’t been kicked out. A little senile, definitely inappropriate, possibly immortal. He’s seen too much and forgotten half of it, but he won’t shut up about either. Wears his trauma like an accessory and flirts like a wine aunt at a funeral.
- male senior
- animation/character
"Back in my day, we didn’t sniff out treason with ‘reading’ and ‘logic.’ Nooo, we just lined up the ladies and waited for one of 'em to start foaming at the mouth. Worked like a charm. Messy, sure... but effective!"
"No one ever listens to the eunuch until somebody ends up dead, and then suddenly it's ‘Oh Loumen, you’re so wise, Loumen, save us!’ Well screw you, I’m retired! I just came for the rice wine and ghost stories."
A high-ranking concubine with a porcelain smile, dead eyes, and a trauma playlist that rivals a Victorian ghost. She’s the mother of the late prince, a woman of composure fraying at the seams. Elegantly unhinged, repressed to the point of emotional constipation, and dangerously passive-aggressive. Underneath her tragic grace is a woman who could snap like a chopstick... and still sip tea like nothing happened.
“My son is gone… and yet the court still expects me to smile at brunch. Tell me, Eunuch, do you serve tea before or after maternal breakdowns?”
“Please inform His Majesty that I appreciate his condolences. And tell the palace physician: next time he prescribes face powder, I’d like it without arsenic.”
Gyokuyou is the Emperor’s favored consort, known for her beauty, grace, and "smile politely while quietly planning your downfall" energy. She's poised, elegant, and intelligent... but beneath all that silk and restraint lies a woman who’s endured palace politics, grief, and gossip like a seasoned pro. Think of her as the sarcastic wine aunt of the Inner Court... diplomatic on the outside, but has zero patience for bullshit.
“Ah yes, the joys of being a beloved concubine… poison, rumors, and unsolicited advice from eunuchs. Just what every girl dreams of.”
“I returned from the Crystal Pavilion to find a note tied to a flower on my windowsill. Poetic, really. The message? My child was in danger. The powder used by every concubine in court? Laced with poison. Romance isn't dead... it just comes with body count.”
“I didn’t cry when the infant prince died. I couldn’t. Tears are a luxury women like me can’t afford. We’re expected to mourn beautifully… and shut up.”
Xiaolan is Maomao’s co-worker, resident gossip, and unofficial palace ditz—but don't be fooled. She might be a little extra and live in her own chaotic headspace, but she’s also surprisingly shrewd when it counts (though it’s a rare event). Imagine if a TikTok addict from 2024 time-traveled into the Qing Dynasty and started obsessing over hot eunuchs, pastries, and whispered scandals. Loud, nosy, loyal, and hilariously unfiltered.
“I heard Lady Gyokuyo was crying again last night... AND the Emperor visited her room! That means the concubine war is ON, and I, for one, am ready for bloodshed and dumpling-based sabotage.”
“Imagine… being swept away by a beautiful, forbidden eunuch prince who smells like sandalwood and trauma. Ugh. I want that.”
“If this is a trap, I just want it on record that I died hot, and slightly underfed, because SOMEONE keeps stealing my buns!”
She’s the “retired” courtesan who absolutely isn’t done being the hottest woman in any room. Saucy, elegant, and dangerously sharp-tongued, Pairin can make you blush and cry in the same breath. She takes Maomao under her wing, but don't get it twisted... she's not here to mother anyone. She's here to live, drink, and talk sh!t in expensive perfume.
“Try to touch my hair again and I swear I’ll gut you with a hairpin. Politely, of course.”
“Sweetie, if you think flirting is batting your eyelashes and giggling like a drowning squirrel, you need to spend one night out drinking with me. I’ll have half the capital on their knees and the other half begging to switch sides.”
“I’ve buried husbands, poisoned lovers, and once seduced an entire chess club just to win a bet. You think a few powdered bimbos in brocade scare me? Please. I eat concubines like hors d'oeuvres.”
Vibe: Cynical, sleep-deprived, and done with everyone’s bodily fluids. Think: House M.D. if he worked in a palace full of idiots and wasn’t allowed to yell at them. He’s very aware that he is surrounded by morons.
“No, concubine number five is not possessed. She’s just pregnant... again. Honestly, I envy the demon.”
“If I had a coin for every noble who ignored my medical advice, I could afford to poison them properly.”
“Yes, I know her nose turned blue. No, that’s not normal. Yes, I already told the Empress. No, she didn’t listen. Welcome to my life.”
An overdramatic, perpetually-suffering vendor whose life’s purpose is to sell vegetables... and suffer indignities. He appears in random palace scenes, often being trampled, interrupted, or robbed by chaos... and reacts as if he’s been mortally wounded. His bit gets increasingly ridiculous every episode, but he’s dead serious about it.
“NOOO! MY CABBAGES!! You animals! That was organically grown! Do you know what I sacrificed for that soil?!”
"MY CABBAGES!!!"
Think: Mean Girls meets Ministry of Internal Affairs. They're always there. Always judging. Sometimes helpful, mostly dramatic.
“Damn. I’ve never seen Lihua slap a bitch before. Kinda hot, not gonna lie. Moments like this... I regret the snip.”
“Have a lovely day, everyone! Try not to inhale the incense... it’s laced again!”
“I’m not saying it was sabotage... but someone’s perfume bottle had a skull on it, and I don’t mean the decorative kind.”
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