(no subject)

[ay_my_lord]

*Horatio has been trying to keep himself occupied since he and Hamlet had begun to grow distant--working odd jobs, programming, re-engineering his computer a bit for the fun of it. now, though, he finds himself wondering whether more social pleasures might be better ways to spend his time, and so he is knocking on the door of the tragedians' ... van* Excuse me? Excuse me, do you ... hold auditions?

Comments

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

You'll have to see. *personally thinks he's very good at pretending to be someone he's not*

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

Okay. *they don't really have the numbers to be selective* What do you want to read from?

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

I-- *sheepish* I prepared a monologue from Thyestes ... but if you want me to read from your next play that would be fine, too.

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

No, go ahead. Juuuuuust a minute. *ducks back in to kick someone else awake*

You can use a costume, if you want.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*uncertainly* If now isn't really a good time, I could come back later.

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

Promise?

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*nods* If you'll tell me when is good for you.

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

Sometime...later today? *is drooping a little*

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*smile* I'll come back around six.

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

Awesome.

See you.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*then, at approximately six o'clock, Horatio will return and knock on the van again. he's been practicing his monologue some more, trying to sort through his character--he hasn't actually acted since high school, and he's rusty at all of this*

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

*are not hung over now! and are informed about what is to happen*

*opens (different one)* Hi! *eee grin*

typist: how's Laertes doing in the AU, by the way? (I was going to say "the other AU." canon? is this really canon we're playing?)

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*laughs* You're awake! I guess this is a better time than eleven. *puts his hands in his pockets* So ... what do you need me to do?

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

Do you want a costume?

Recite!

typist: fair enough.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

... now? *is ignoring question in favor of command*

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

Yes!

*arrange themselves to watch*

If you're not ready, you can have a few minutes.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*slight terror--but, composes himself and relocates the Atreus in his head*

*bitterly* Whatever's wrong for
a brother is right
for him. Because what's
he ever stopped at?
*a fierce gesture* Wife and kingdom, he
took both. Our ancient
symbol of power
he took by deceit,
by deceit he brought
our family to
confusion. *to clarify, to the audience* In our
family's flocks there's a
ram whose wool is gold
so all our kings have
gold on their sceptres.
His owner rules. The
future of our house
follows him. He's safe
shut up in a field,
shielded by stone walls,
sacred. *still clarifying, but now his voice is harder* The traitor
dared something huge, he
took my wife to help,
he took the ram. This
is what started it.
*anger giving way to grief a little* I've wandered about
a trembling exile
in this country that's
mine. *helpless* No part of the
family is free
from traps. My wife is
corrupted. The deal
we made to share the
kingdom's smashed. House sick.
Children's blood in doubt.
Nothing certain but
brother enemy.
*shaking his head, shaking himself out of it* Why this stupor? Start.
*a step forward, straightening--looking off a little* Take hold of your soul.
Think of Tantalus.
That's the kind of thing
my hands are being
asked to do. *with great spite* Tell me
a way to honour
my brother's vile head.

*pause*

*out of character* ... how was that?

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

*applause*

That was good.

Do you want to read something else? We have scripts.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

Okay! If you have something in particular you want me to read. *a hesitant step closer ... to the van (wondering, in fact, whether it is sort of like a bootlegging or gambling den or something else exotic)*

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

You can pick.

Take a look.

*(it's not very exciting; it's full of scripts and costumes and cushions and a couple of bottles of alcohol and empty takeout containers)*

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*he'll sift through scripts, asking offhand* What're you doing next?

*(so basically it is every twentysomething young theatre fellow's dwellingplace!)*

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

Oedipus.

Seneca.

Probably.

*(huzzah!)*

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*laughs* I like Seneca. We used to read him in my Latin classes--I first read Thyestes in Latin. *shuffles about, and pulls out a copy of Oedipus* Is there any part you want me to read?

[tragedians.livejournal.com]

Whichever.

We already cast this one, so you don't have to worry about stealing someone else's part.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

Okay. *a little dispirited that he'll have to wait until the next next play--but picks Tiresias, because Oedipus is too easy, seriously*

Listen to me. You mock my blindness, do you?
But I say that you, *accusingly* with both your eyes, are blind:
You cannot see the wretchedness of your life,
Nor in whose house you live, no, nor with whom.
*nearly-mocking* Who are your father and mother? Can you tell me?
You do not even know the blind wrongs
That you have done them, on earth and in the world below.
But the double lash of your parents' curse will whip you
Out of this land some day, with only night
Upon your precious eyes.
*warning* Your cries then--where will they not be heard?