impure_tale | 222 [Before the Start of the Flood]

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feeling a little chatty

222 [Before the Start of the Flood]

[He's a little beaten up, as you might be able to tell on the video.]

Disappointing news I'm afraid, my dears. Auditions will be a matter addressed after the port at the end of the month. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'll certainly feel more comfortable running lines with people after this place has gone back to normal.

I'm sure you're heartbroken, the lot of you.

The changes to the facilities don't especially agree with me, or Renate for that matter. [a bark in the background.] It leaves me feeling especially optimistic about what's to come.

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But the thought is appreciated. [He frowns.] I apologize for worrying you.

Are you all right? Really? I don't mean your leg, I mean mentally. You can get... shaken sometimes.

Quite all right. A little restless, perhaps, but no more than I usually am when I've gone so long without an Inmate.

Same boat. I'm sorry you gotta wait on your play.

[A little laugh]

It's no worse than my last attempt, I assure you. Actors disappearing left and right until all I have left are extras and stage hands.

The barge ain't the most stable talent pool, I can imagine.

We'll manage this time. [He glances at him.] You might consider auditioning.

I can't say I've ever acted for entertainment before.

It might make a welcome change. I'm too old for it myself anymore, of course. Besides, better to direct.

Edited 2013-05-23 07:10 (UTC)

'Too old' for acting my entire ass. [He scrubs his cheek across the Marquis' forehead.]

Tell me about the play.

Are you at all familiar with Earth history? [He settles a little more comfortably] Particularly the "Old South" in the United States of America?

I know Earth's ecology okay. Not the history.

Knowing nothing of the cultures that surround you in your own time, I have little to compare it to. There is an ideal view of the south at the time that the story takes place that is slowly fading out of existence -- for the rich, at any rate. Sweeping landscapes, rich agriculture and wealth, the sort that I suppose thrived better when slavery was still legal, but it saw its decline when it no longer was. The wealthy hung on the longest, clinging to artifice as a matter of culture and heritage.

[He sighs]

It is a little difficult for me to speak of it in past tense; the story takes place well after my own time. Slavery would be legal in America for another half century after my death.

Slavers. [A huff of annoyance.] I know the breed. Just not the environment.

[He lounges back, a muscular backrest, occasionally rubbing an idle, friendly gesture over the Marquis' arm or shoulder.]

So this is after it's criminalized. Economies in shift. Old power fading. I'm with you.

The story centers in a way on two sisters, high bred, coming from old money but there is little left. "Southern Belles," I believe is the proper term. The youngest, Stella, married and moved to the city, while the eldest, Blanche remained essentially to watch the last of their relatives die. The play begins when she appears in the city, intent to live with her sister, initially with little explanation as to why. Her appearance in her sister's home, already small for two people, is something of an issue for Stella's husband, and the two clash constantly. The story follows their conflict, the slow revelation of what's happened to this woman, but it's about more. The old ways and their need to either join with the new or fade into obscurity, the harshness of brutal honesty against fragile pretensions.

[A little smile; he closes his eyes.]

Of course it contains all of that but like the best of plays it portrays it through simple interactions.

[Another low hum of interest.]

Heavy on the sex? Or is that not what got you intrigued.

[Just a guess, knowing the Marquis.]

It is clever about implying. The husband, Stanley, is not the sort of man that southern belles would traditionally be associated with. More common, but powerful, physically intimidating, and Stella's relationship with him is very steeped in their desires for one another. Animal magnetism as it were.

...so when you said I should try out, you might have had an idea who you wanted me to play?

[He chuckles, a rumble against the Marquis' back, nuzzling the man's hair. He's been touch-hungry for a while, even more than when he was an inmate because then he had the Marquis to impose on, and he's been less in need of reassurance as a free-ish man. But 'less in need of' doesn't mean 'less inclined towards'. And after the Marquis' misadventure, he's feeling the urge to get tactile.]

I won't lie; you're at least physically perfect for the role. [A satisfied sigh.] As I understand, the author cast the originator of the role, who also portrayed him in film, because the author himself was rather attracted to him. I have yet to see the film, myself.

I don't know that I'm much of an actor when I'm not manipulating a room. I could give it a try, might break the routine. I won't get wounded if you get someone decent, though.

Perhaps we'll try a reading someday. [He turns his head to look back at him.]

Mmmhmm.

...sup?

[He looks warm and comfortable, almost drowsy.]

You're doing an awful job of scolding me, I'll have you know.

...I am kinda falling down on the job. [Another rumble of laughter.]

I missed this.

You know you're always welcome. I rather miss having company. [And Megamind is a little too nervous to be alone in his cabin with him anymore]

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