Jono Starsmore (
furnaceface) wrote in
fandomtownies2016-08-04 06:59 am
Entry tags:
The Boards, Thursday
Lord, it had been far too long since Jono had been in here in any official capacity. Trying to plan for failed weddings didn't count. Neither did weird weekends where he wasn't entirely himself. He'd stopped by to do paperwork now and again while Dracula was doing all the heavy lifting, but now Dracula had been back home for some time, and here was the Boards, just... standing. Being a building. And Jono knew damn well that his reasons for leaving the place behind were understandable, back in the day. That you don't just lose a face and the ability to sing under a spotlight twice in your life and take that sort of thing lightly. But it had been years. Maybe it was time to give it another go.
Today, he wasn't in to try to salvage whatever was left after the last party that wasn't a wedding. He was here trying to salvage... lord, even he didn't know for sure. But he'd spent some time in his office, had done some cleaning, had relegated a few of his old overcoats to the costume room since they were never going to fit him again, and then took a chair and a stack of scripts outside and started flipping through them, deciding that if he was going to be here again, he might as well enjoy some of the sun today, too.
... When did they even get the script for the new Barry Plodder play? Jono set that one aside and shook his head. The royalties on that one would be obscene. What was in public domain that was good?
[Open!]
Today, he wasn't in to try to salvage whatever was left after the last party that wasn't a wedding. He was here trying to salvage... lord, even he didn't know for sure. But he'd spent some time in his office, had done some cleaning, had relegated a few of his old overcoats to the costume room since they were never going to fit him again, and then took a chair and a stack of scripts outside and started flipping through them, deciding that if he was going to be here again, he might as well enjoy some of the sun today, too.
... When did they even get the script for the new Barry Plodder play? Jono set that one aside and shook his head. The royalties on that one would be obscene. What was in public domain that was good?
[Open!]

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Dante was restless. Had been restless since waking up yesterday morning, acutely aware again that he was running on very little time, and that he shouldn't be wasting any of it going slow the way he had.
So he'd gone walking, Baltimore-bound, shortly after waking up. Finding Starsmore out here? Kind of a surprise, so he could waste another minute or two poking at him.
The bottom had dropped out of the cheer in his voice, but fuck if he'd let that stop him from mocking Starsmore a little. "Look at you, making like a nerd."
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//Which part is the nerdy part again? The reading, the theatre, or the running a business? I always get that bit confused.//
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He nodded at the stack of paper. Raised his eyebrows. What was that one?
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"Guess no one has fun in England, huh?" he said.
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He didn't think he was going to be putting that one on. Not when most of the people who auditioned for these things were students.
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//More or less,// he agreed. //One of the basic rules of thumb for a farce is that, if something goes wrong, the next step, clearly, is for it to get worse in the most comedic way possible. By the end, you've more or less got things spinning out of control to a ludicrous degree, but at least the getting there has been funny. I've got a few like it in the pile.//
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Dante's expression said he wasn't so sure.
"I mean, you wanna watch people fuck up until everything turns into an endless shitpile, you could just turn on the news too."
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He shrugged.
//It's certainly less depressing than the news, anyway. Farce is about pointing at a situation and going, 'this has all gone pear-shaped, but I suppose at the very least we can laugh about it.' It's like a... a catastrophic bright side. Schadenfreude where nobody actually gets hurt.//
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... He'd get into the whole farce thing in a second, just. What?
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//It's a German word. Means 'happiness at the misfortune of others.' It was popularized a few years back in a Broadway puppet show.//
...
//Which is really just cementing the sort of nerd I am, I suppose.//
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"A nerd who likes laughing at other people's pain, no less," he said. "Or... pear-shapes."
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//That's not entirely the point of farce, either,// he sighed. //Farce is more about perspective than actually enjoying the sight of human suffering. The situations might parody real life, but they're so ludicrous that it'd be difficult to find a farce that mirrors it. If it's done right, it can make you look at your own life, try to find the scrap of ridiculousness in it. Make you laugh at something that might've hurt you before.//
He nodded back toward the Boards.
//Seemed like a good starting point, if I do come back to putting on actual shows here. I left this place pretty quickly when something went badly for me out of nowhere. But since there aren't any farcical stories about my particular situation, I have to make do with things like British people trying to hide accidental illegal porn.//
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He tilted his head towards Starsmore, trying to figure out if he could be assed enough to ask the guy what had happened.
"Not a lot of people here gonna be like, oh right, that horrible time I got porn."
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Jono was pretty certain he didn't have the pyrotechnics budget for a farce about his own situation. He certainly didn't have the money for the inevitable lawsuit once the actors caught fire.
//And there's the other thing about it,// he offered, waving a hand down at the script. //It's situational comedy, more about the events occurring than the people being affected by it. Not many people are going to complain about porn, but there are at least a couple who can relate to having dirty photos scattered across the floor and right then is when the mother-in-law pays a visit.//
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Fuck it. It was going to nag at him if he didn't ask, and maybe Starsmore's bad shit would distract him from thinking about his own.
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//In this place?// Jono shrugged his shoulders a little, trying to look like it really wasn't that big of a deal. //Nothing, exactly. I ran a few shows, taught some improv classes. Got back up on stage a few times. Rediscovered my love of singing for an audience - I'm told I had an excellent singing voice. Didn't get booed offstage or anything, anyway, and got dragged up onto the stage now and then by musician friends I made here. Hell, I even had a recording studio built into the downstairs. You'd think a man with a history of blowing his bloody lungs out would know better.//
Bitter. Bitter bitter bitter, all bleeding out under a veneer of 'fine.'
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"So you like... un-blew-up? And then re-blew-up?" he said. He let out a low whistle. "Pretty explosive, as far as rough shit goes."
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Jono knew a thing or two about fucked-up.
//I tapped out, then. Left this place in the care of a friend and went back to the Groovy Tunes. I used to work there when I was in school, it was a little less difficult to handle than literally living upstairs from a stage.//
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At least he was distracted?
"The fuck," he said eloquently.
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He tilted his head at Dante, looking wry because that was a step up from looking troubled by it.
//Either way, a bit of distance from all of this was what I needed at the time. Sometimes... sometimes you have to step back even from the little things, or they'll run you through after everything else has had a turn.//
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Dante shrugged again.
"Guess so," he said. "Some matches just aren't worth playing with, huh."
No question mark.
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