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The Boards - Sunday (all day)

Next to the sign was another, written only on paper.
Casting for Titus Andronicus. Knock.

...there seems to be some movement inside, anyway..

[ooc: one of a few postings for the next week or so; tag as you can if you're interested in working with Geoffrey][as it's Geoffrey... language warning] [OOC, weetinys are welcome; IC, though, Geoffrey =/= childfriendly]

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Amber couldn't really read yet but it was a nice sign. She pushed the door open and walked in, looking around.

There was a lump in the middle of the floor. Yes, at near noon, there was a lump, with wild brown hair popping out the top of the lump.

Amber stepped forward to investigate that lump, the one with wild brown hair popping out of it. She was a curious little thing.

It turned over to become a very groggy looking man who started scrubbing at his face.

Then one eye opened.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi," Amber replied, wary. "Was you sleepin' on the floor, mister?"

He blinked once before nodding his head.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Yeah, I was."

Amber tucked her hands behind her back and sashayed side to side. "What is this place?"

"It's a theatre," he said with a groan as he pushed himself up and scrubbed at his cheeks. "Where's your mom?"

Her eyes got big. "A theatre! Like the dress up kind? And singin' and dancin'?" Amber shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno." Ma was home but she didn't think that information important.

...he wanted coffee. No, to be accurate, he wanted scotch. But coffee was more socially acceptable.

"Yeah, like the dress up kind. Not like the singing and dancing kind."

"Can I play? Dressing up is fun," Amber declared with a little twirl of her body.

Oh.

"Yes," he said, "you could play, only I haven't gotten any costumes yet. So maybe you could come back another day?"

When the door was locked.

"But I wanna play now. Do you live here? Can I play with you? What's your name? I'm Amber Atkins!"

"I live here, yes," he said as he scrubbed at his face again. "And that all depends on what you mean by play. I really don't have any costumes.

"And my name is Geoffrey."

And he hoped to God her mother didn't bust in thinking he was some sort of pedophile. Goodness knew he didn't look like a fine upstanding citizen at the moment.

"Hi Geoffrey," Amber held up her little hand for him to shake. If he wanted. "I'm four but very smart for my age. What do you like to play?"

"I like to work with Shakespeare," he said placidly.

"Does he like to work with you too?" Amber was assuming Shakespeare was a man. Just cause.

"I like to think so."

He didn't feel like explaining.

"What kinda work? Is it hard? Does it make you tired so you fall asleep on the floor and stuff? Maybe you don't get paid enough if you get so tired. Maybe you should have a beer." Cause Ma seemed right as rain when she drank beer.

"I really do need a beer," he agreed. "And yes, I stayed up far past my" wince "bedtime working. It's very hard work" despite what anyone says "but it's my favorite thing to do."

"Favorite things are the bestest in the world," she said, feeling smart. "I like to be on stage cause it's fun when I have attention." She was going to mention that the only attention she's ever had has been from her barbie dolls.

Well...

"Well," he said out loud. "How about you go over to the stage and show me your stuff?"

It might be entertaining.

Her eyes lit up and she laughed. "Okay, yah, I can do that!"

She ran over to the stairs and climbed them carefully to get up on the stage, and she walked towards the center of it and stood there, staring, finger to lip.

"What kinda stuff?"

He waved his hands dismissively.

"Whatever you want."

Amber did a little tap dance number that she totally made up in her head and she said all smart like, mimicking her stupid friend who really wasn't her friend at all, Becky Leeman.

She cocked a leg and struck a pose. "My mamma loves me best of all and she always tells me, 'Rebecca Ann Leeman, it's all about winnin''. So I always try to be a winner and I usually am."

Amber snorted and stomped her foot. "I hate Becky Leeman and my ma hates her ma." Then she beamed at Geoffrey.

He gave a sour look.

"She sounds painful," he admitted.

She nodded somberly. "She's a pain in my ass," she told him, copying what her ma always said about Becky's ma.

He smiled.

...he liked this kid.

"Well, I'll make sure not to cast her in anything."

"She don't live here so it's good but thank you for sayin' that," she said as she got down off of the stage and walked back towards him.

"You can cast me though," Amber told him unabashedly.

A small (though not all that small, for eight) blond boy was walking through town. He was fortified with hot chocolate and a chocolate croissant, and he curiously looked at the sign before knocking.

The door opened to a man scrubbing his face and looking around in something like confusion for who might have knocked.

Eventually, he looked down.

"Oh."

The boy tilted his head back to look up. "Hi!" Then he stepped into the Boards as if he owned it. "What's an Andronicus?" he wanted to know. "I know all the words on the sign 'cept that one."

"It's a last name," he said simply, figuring that it would be best to keep things, well, simple.

Romeo blinked slowly, taking this in, and asked the logical question. "Is it yours? It's long."

[OOC: I'm slow for the next few hours.][

He breathed in. Deeply.

"No, mine is Tennant," he said patiently.

"Mine's Montague," Romeo said, with slight pride but none of the weight he would attach to his surname when he got older. Mostly, it was a statement of fact. "How come it's on the sign outside this place, if it's not yours?"

He stepped further in, squinting at the theater. "What is this place anyhow?"

"It's a theatre," he said with a ruffle of his own hair. "And it's the name of the play I'm going to be doing."

"Does it have explosions or pirates or monsters in it?" Romeo asked. "I wanna see it if it does, we go to plays sometimes but it's always stupid baby stories with fairies. But sometimes they're funny."

"This one isn't funny so much as..."

What adjective could be used here?

"Crazy."

"Crazy can be good," Romeo said hopefully.

His father always said Mercutio was crazy, after all.

"I've always thought so too. It's a very... interesting play."

Romeo shoved his hair out of his eyes, curious now. "What happens to Mr. Andronicus?" he asked. "Is he the crazy one?"

"He... gets to be. By the end. Everyone's pretty, er, crazy."

Romeo frowned. "Hunh," was all there was to say to that. "Sounds like it might be cool. Does anybody get killed?"

Because that was even better than crazy people.

"...lots of people. Two even get made into a pie."

Oh good job, Geoffrey. Damage the child, why don't you?

Oh children are resilient. He'll probably think it's cool.

Romeo's eyes went wide in admiration, and he showed no signs of being damaged. "Cooooooool. I definitely wanna see that play an' see the people get chopped up and everything."

Look, his father's "business associates" let him watch worse.

"Well, I'm sure when we get a production together, someone can bring you to see it."

"I can bring myself," Romeo informed him. "I'm big and my father's in California anyhow."

...have some cleaning to do so might disappear.

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The Boards - Sunday (all day)

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OOC