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The Boards - Thursday Evening - 5/15

Geoffrey was mostly waiting around for his interested amateurs as he considered his budget and whether or not he'd be able to make this the production he wanted it to be. He hadn't brought his vision before the cast yet, since they were so green, but he hoped they'd understand.

[truncated ocd ~~coming~~ up]

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YAY!

Cal had a finished work shift and a script and a set of amateur acting chops, but what he didn't have was a clue as to what the hell he was doing here. That wasn't exactly rare for him, though. In fact, if he gave it much thought, he'd realize that that was kind of how everything was for him.

So he showed up, came in, and waited to be told what he should do.

He looked up from his books and gave the new arrival a smile.

"Oh Cal. Hello. It's good to see you. How did you like the play?"

There was something to his smile, something more amused than pleased, which said the question was both honest and sarcastic.

Cal just shrugged. "Dunno," he commented. "Could have used more violence; it reads kind of tame, don't you think?"

Oddly enough, although there wasn't any hint of Geoffrey's mirth in the comment, it, too, was both honest and sarcastic.

"Not really the kind of thing to read before dinner. Or after it. Or any time there might be 'pastry'."

He smiled and gestured to a seat next to himself.

"So. Titus Andronicus. Your thoughts."

His head tilted to one side, like a bird watching a human doing something funny, as he looked to Cal.

"I need to get an idea of you before I can cast you."

"Wait, I'm confused," Cal admitted, pulling the script out from where it was tucked into his back pocket, thumbing through the pages a little. "So, it's a musical, right? I'll warn you, I don't really dance..."

He figured he should drop the whole sarcasm bit, but, really, the sarcasm at least allowed him to say something a little more than it was okay, I guess; I'm really only doing this to help kill time and the Muses demand it of me.

"The choreographer's dealt with worse," he continued, letting the joke peter out as he settled his elbows on his knees.

"It's a dirty, violent piece of work. Isn't it?"

"Yup," Cal ascended to the answer he figured was closer to what Geoffrey was gunning for, tapping the already well-bent and often curled script in his palm. Actually, he was feeling like Geoffrey was gunning for Cal's complete and utter expressions of revile and disgust as everything, when, really, he had to admire the ambition of everyone in the play to stick with their visceral, gut responses like that. "No question about that. I think the tongue bit's pretty good, and a pie's pretty clever."

"It certainly is."

He didn't speak for a moment. Instead, he seemed to chew over his thoughts, playing with something in his mouth before pulling out a razor blade and tapping it against his jaw.

"It's not really a traditional 'opener' for a theatre," he said with a crooked grin, "but I'm not really all that traditional. And I like it. I like the honesty. I like digging in deep to start out with."

Cal had definitely remembered Amber mentioning the razor blade, and his head tilted slightly at it a sit made an appearance. Briefly, he thought on his personal speculations of why before he found himself simply wondering if it rusted often, or if maybe Geoffrey replaced it with a new one every day, and then, just in case, hoped he had his tetanus shots.

"Honesty," he muttered. "Interesting."

He focused on Cal for a moment before blinking and looking over at the 'stage'.

"Anyone call to you?"

"I don't know," Cal admitted. "I mean, what are my options? I can be a rapist, I can be a murderer, I can be a rapist and murderer, or I can be an abused woman. Hard to narrow it down."

"You only mention the victims and the villains," he observed. "And you thought I might cast you as Lavinia?"

He turned a single raised eyebrow on Cal before shaking it off.

"There's Bassianus, Lucius... Marcus Andronicus. And Saturninus isn't much of a killer until you get to the end, though not exactly someone I'd invite home for dinner either. Ahem."

Cal had seen stranger castings before, and, actually, Lavinia happened to have been the character he liked the most. It would have been interesting to play getting your hands and tongue hacked off. But he just shrugged, and considered his options.

"Bassianus gets popped off pretty early, doesn't he?"

But Geoffrey was stuck on it. Something out of the ordinary like that...

"You like Lavinia?"

He rubbed his chin.

"It'd be different."

He already had a sympathetic Tamora. He might as well see what his production brought to him.

The idea of what playing a girl might imply just hit way too hard, though; he was sure Cassandra would just have a field day with that, and he sent a steady look over at Geoffrey. "I'm not playing a chick," he said determinedly. "But, yeah, I like her; she was the most interesting character for me. But, since I like her, that's why I think I'll do a good job with this Bassianus guy, 'cause he loved her, right?"

And Cal was starting to think that he did, too. Stumps and all.

"So him. I can do him. Either that, or I want to be one of the guys who end up in the pie."

"Not," he repeated, for emphasis, in case Geoffrey missed it, "a chick."

He looked at him for a second more than a normal person might have before nodding.

"Not a chick. That I can do."

He ruffled his own hair.

"Bassianus. Or 'one of the guys who end up in the pie'. Well, you've got a solid hand on their characterization..."

The sarcasm was thick on that one.

"Bassianus, I think."

Cal couldn't help it if he might have felt that was a good thing to add to his list of acting experience so far. So, who have you played? ... Oh, a blind prophet, a hermaphroditic sex god of the sea, and some guy who ended up in a pie. Where's my Oscar?

Satisfied, Cal gave a nod. He could fail at succeeding into a position of power (done it), be in love (done it), and die off early (...well...it was acting...), and then sit in the wings with some popcorn for the rest of the show and hedge his bets on if someone would get a brain hemorrhage this time, as well.

He nodded again. "Cool; when're rehearsals?"

Edited 2008-05-16 00:48 (UTC)

"Tuesdays. You'll see a sign up on those days, just like you did when you came this week.

"You learn your lines on your own time. When you're on my stage, you're acting. Read from the script if you like, but it had better not damage your performance anymore than a bit of lost eye contact."

He leaned back in his seat.

"You come for the scenes you're in. We'd like you for all the rehersals, but you can miss if you're not up. I have the place open on Thursdays if anyone needs extra help with things, but I live here so I'm pretty much here whenever."

"Easy enough," Cal observed, picking a little at the crinkled corner of his script. He was tempted to flip through again and take note of exactly how many lines he'd just agreed to, and he was thinking of how Amber said they might go over lines together if he went through with this. He was thinking of blind ears, and a warm whispered giggle. Hi, Tiresias. It's me. Antigone.

"Anything else? Or, well, if not, I guess I'll see you on Tuesday?"

"Pretty much."

He looked pleased, if thoughtful. He wasn't much for manners if it meant that he could get something important done, like refine a bit of his play or consider an extra note to give.

"Okay, then."

Good enough for Cal. He gave a slight lift of his hand, of his finger, really, in a sort of a jerk-wave, before turning. He thumbed through his pages as he took his exit, stage...well, whichever direction the door was in. He could never get it straight, always getting it confused as to whether it was his right or the audience's.

"See you at rehearsal."

And he looked up long enough to give a manic little grin before getting back to his thinking.

If you'd like it.

Whatever else.

Cause I'm not courting fate.

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The Boards - Thursday Evening - 5/15

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