Open RP: Auditions!

[crazynotstoned.livejournal.com]

So as far as Geoffrey knew, his production of Twelfth Night was well under way. No, really -- despite it having been weeks since his posters had been altered, he had somehow entirely failed to notice that the people who were signed up for the play were, in fact, signed up for a completely different one. This meant he was probably due for something of a surprise, today.

He'd cleared a large space in the Great Hall and tacked up a sign that said "Auditions here!" which he figured was enough decor. Pulling up three chairs -- one for himself, one for his stage manager, and one for Oliver... wait, make that two chairs -- he slouched down into his seat, rolled up his sleeves, and waited for the first arrival.

((This is primarily for people who are auditioning, but if you missed the signup and want to participate in the play, now's your chance!

Edit: So I figured we'd do one thread for each character, and they could read a little monologue and chat with Geoffrey and Bun-Bun if they liked. And please, feel free to mention A Midsummer Night's Dream. A lot. Geoffrey still has no idea that's what he's actually supposed to be working on.))

Comments

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

Steph came in, a dog eared copy of Midsummer Night's Dream peeking out of her back pocket. Despite the fact that this was a Normal Afterschool Activity, she was actually kind of nervous. There was some fidgeting going on, in shirtsleeve area.

It was probably because she hadn't had time to throw herself off of any roofs that morning. Completely understandable. "I’m Stephanie," she announced. "I’m very good at flipping, hopping, and jumping off of things."

[crazynotstoned.livejournal.com]

Geoffrey sighed, spotting the book in her pocket. He realized that, of course, some people might bring in monologues from things other than the play that was being performed, but... the signs did not look good for his poor Twelfth Night. He rubbed at his eyebrow with his thumb, glaring balefully at Stephanie, who didn't deserve it in the least.

At least he was dimly aware of that fact; when it came time to answer Stephanie he tried to rally himself, mustering up a smile that looked more like a wince. "Right. Well, I don't think we're going to be doing much of that, actually, but if you'd like to read something...?"

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

"Really? 'Cause in the movie version, there were all sorts of flips. I mean, I know plays are different - thank god, because the film had Michelle Pfeiffer..." Throughout her entire ramble, Steph hadn't actually been able to take a good look at Mr. Tennant. She tended to avoid eye contact when nervous. When she did look down, mid-Pfeiffer-talk, her face scrunched up in confusion. "...and she scares me." Wa-huh? Since when had Fraser gotten into directing? And what was with the fake name? Granted, Shakespeare was a boring, dead, white guy, and thus right up the Mountie's avenue of interest, but she figured he would have mentioned something.

Maybe this was just a twisted retaliation for her hat theft?

"Erm - why are you wearing a wig? Is this some sort of...Canadian thing?"

[crazynotstoned.livejournal.com]

"A wig?" he echoed blankly. Although Ellen had met Fraser (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1306801.html?thread=66643889#t66643889), briefly, Geoffrey had not; and although Ellen had told him all about it (up to and including the part where she had considered inviting the younger man to a threesome and/or buying Geoffrey a mountie uniform), he didn't immediately make the connection.

As for Geoffrey, he hadn't worn a wig since well before he'd done Hamlet, and that... well, that was a very long time ago now. So this was a little confusing to him. He tugged at one wild curl, to demonstrate that it was real, giving her a bewildered look. "No flips. And no Michelle Pfeiffer. I promise." He grinned. "God fucking forbid."

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

Holy crap. Fraser just said the F-word. Did he even know the F-word? Wasn't that banned in Canada? Steph thought she might have remembered reading that somewhere. She tried not to gape. Maybe this was an undercover thing? He was infiltrating a group of...nefarious Shakespearian drug smugglers? That made perfect sense!

In any case, Steph wasn't going to go and be a cover-blower. The drug-smuggling actors could have been watching at any moment! Faltering she a little, she smiled. "Good, 'cause that would be a deal breaker. Big time." Maybe Michelle Pfeiffer was behind the whole drug-smuggling scheme! Steph would not have been surprised.

Moving on! Steph cleared her throat (not because she really needed to, but because it seemed like the Thing To Do), and started her monologue.

"Call you me fair? that fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair!
Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air
More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
Sickness is catching: O, were favor so,
Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'd give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look, and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart."

To be honest, she didn't understand all of the language. A thesaurus only went so far. But the core of it - a whole speech about not being good enough for the only thing you ever really wanted ...yeah, Steph could relate. With a capital R. Even if that Demetrius dude was a total tool, and being a superhero was a much more awesome goal than catching a man.

And she was totally not substituting the words 'Hermia' with 'Batgirl' in her head. Not at all.

Monologue finished, Steph straightened up, and hooked her thumbs around the belt loops of her pants. She was either waiting to be dismissed, or to assist in kicking cocaine addicted Shakespearian butt.

[ka-click.livejournal.com]

"Huh." The rabbit glances up at Geoffry, and simply nods. The chick has his approval. Better then most of them, really.

[crazynotstoned.livejournal.com]

The little moment of weirdness aside, Geoffrey was inclined to agree with Bun-Bun. Stephanie was pretty good -- better, at least, than most of the rest of them. And if she was maybe a little crazy, who the hell was he to judge? He returned Bun-Bun's nod, smiling slightly to himself. Provided Ellen didn't kill him, he thought perhaps he'd found his Helena.

He had, however, no drug smugglers for her to apprehend, nor indeed anyone else, and if she'd asked him about that he would have been completely at a loss. He still couldn't figure out what that little 'wig' comment had been about. He was pretty sure he wasn't losing his hair...

An unsettled look passed across his face. He cleared his throat, frowning. "Uh, thank you, Stephanie..." He patted his head self-consciously, like he was checking to make sure it was all still there (which, in fact, he was, and was relieved to find that it was still 100% the wild, untameable mop he thought it was). Bah. A wig? Honestly. "Thanks." He cleared his throat again and sat up, smiling. "That was great."