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MSND [slowplay]

The sets are up, the house lights are dimmed, and the play is ready to begin.

[Actual production will be SP'd here. There will be an audience post tomorrow night, so the audience can react to what's going on onstage then. Have fun, go nuts, guys. Chat room is: MSND, but I have school and won't be on until tonight or so. Outline. Please use the scripts you were emailed. Important: ~~DO NOT SKIP AHEAD IN THE PRODUCTION. THERE ARE EVENTS PLANNED~~ OKAY I LIED. Please just post Acts I-III for right now, as there is something planned to happen at the end of Act III. Please just check in on this post to check for a cue.]

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"Just try them on." Parker's pout didn't match her costume very well, but she was giving it all she got. "I'm the one that has to kiss you. I'm the one that has to be seen with you. Don't you want to look as good as I do? Don't you want to not fade into the background?"

Considering that Parker was wearing a tight black leather bustier, a floor-length black leather skirt with a slit up to the top of her thigh, strappy-buckly-windy black heels, and goth jewelry hung with shiny tiny bells everywhere, it's probably forgivable if Xander wasn't buying this.

"Parker, RuPaul would fade into the background next to you right now." Xander hefted the stack of-- well, 'clothing' was being polite to it, really. "Anyway, I don't need to try them on. Not only because I'm not wearing 'em, but because the... pants...are clearly at least a size and a half too small; I can tell just from looking. Unless they come with a tub of butter and a magic wand, there's no way."

Parker abandoned the pout in favor of coaxing. "Oh, come on. If they don't fit, we say no more about this. It never happened. I'll make the same deal with you that I made with Cam for next week's superhero costume: if it looks tasteless or stupid, you don't have to wear it." She raised her eyebrows. "You can't ask for fairer than that. Because you're not getting dressed in anything else until you try those on."

"Yeah, but Cam looks good in leather pants." Xander coughed. "I...heard. From someone who was in Music yesterday. Who was not me because I am not in that class. I? Am so not Cam." He looked at the clothing dubiously, though he did take a step towards the boys' dressing room.

"You aren't Barney Fife, either, and that's what you want to dress up as? No, no, no, no. We spell it that way my dimension too." A teeny little push. "If it's really uncomfortable, or cuts in anywhere, you don't have to wear it either. Because you need to concentrate on-stage." Another tiny shove. "And do you really expect me to let you go out there making *me* look bad?"

Xander glanced down at...the things that were prominently displayed by her corset. "I really doubt I could manage that if I tried." But he shook his head and walked towards the dresisng room. "If this stuff so much as squeaks at me, much less chafes..."

"No squeaky Bottom." Parker chortled a little. "I swear. And when you're dressed, I have some accessories to finish it off. Don't judge until you see it all together."

Several minutes later, after much huffing and various groany noises, Xander's voice came from the dressing room door. Inside the dressing room door. With the door firmly shut.

"You're aware you're going to Hell when you die, right, Parker? I ask not really out of concern, just curiosity."

Parker drifted over, smiling very, very happily. "Yes. I have a reservation on a fantastic waterslide, courtsey of Past Sins. I take it my number just moved up because the outfit fits?"

"You'll never know, because I'm never coming out."

Parker coughed in amusement, then said, "Then I guess I have to come in and get you, don't I?" She rattled the door. "Do not make me crawl in this skirt, Xander," she said warningly. "It'll go worse for you if I have to retrieve you like a four-year-old."

There was silence for a second, then a voice muttering quietly, "No, she is not trying to turn you on. Also, stop that; there's no room."

After a moment, Xander said, "Define 'worse.' No, don't. Gah. I hate you."

And stepped out the door.

The look of pure glee on Parker's face didn't go with her Goth outfit either, but wow, did it go with Xander's. "I knew I got the size right. Turn around for me? I just want to check."

"Check what?" Xander crossed his arms and did not remotely turn around.

Parker stalked over to him, a nice trick in that skirt and heels. "The fit." She circled around him, as Xander kept turning so she couldn't get a look at his back. "Oh, come on! It's not like you'll be able to stay completely face-front on-stage?"

"You'd be surprised at my blocking talents."

Granted the move he was doing now to block the non-turny-around parts wasn't doing a lot to block the face-front parts, which probably hadn't occurred to him yet.

Parker hooked a finger into his waistband, and held him in place, then peered around his back to get a look at the fit, then gave him a bright grin.

"They fit. They look good. I'm sorry, Xander." She took a step closer, and tracked his collarbone. "You look hotttt in those."

"You're on crack, Parker. Expensive, designer crack that probably comes in a gift basket with truffles and caviar, but still, crack."

Xander took a breath, and glanced down at himself. "But since what I meant by 'I'm never coming out' was actually 'They're clearly gonna have to peel these off me when I fall over in the retirement home for old sidekicks because I'll never get out of 'em again on my own and you couldn't pay me to ask for help with it' -- I guess I'm wearing 'em."

He moved. They squeaked.

"Oh god. Did I mention I hate you?"

Chortling, Parker said, "Several times. Yes. I'm on crack, going to hell, and hated by my co-star. Understood. And you're going to hold still now." She had her purse in hand, and was fisheing stuff out of it. "We're not quite done."

Parker grabbed his vest, probably in anticipation of him trying to run (even in those pants) and kept a firm grip on the eyeliner and whatever-else she'd managed to conceal in her hand from her purse.

Though it could be worse -- he could be hung over from last night, but had woken blessedly headache-free, probably due to the lack of Black Evil From Space in his alcohol consumption -- there was still a special demon in Hell's forces assigned to torment just Xander Harris, he decided as Parker manhandled him.

Because despite being manhandled, and being in leather, and frankly, being in this play, he was also, well. Being manhandled. By a pushy, smartmouthed woman who, while not exactly Slayer-powered, could still probably kill him with one gun tied behind her back.

Thinknot-sexythoughts. Thinknot-sexythoughts.

Parker held his jaw steady with one hand, and very carefully outlined one eye with the pencil she'd brought. Unlike what she'd done for Zero last night, there was no subtlety here; those Jaffa guards, or any ancient Egyptian soldier, would have felt comfortable with this. Xander might not, but it did make him even prettier. "Don't blink. Don't flinch. I'm good at this, just hold still," she said, keeping her voice soothing even if the words weren't.

When she was done, she held onto his face for a second longer, then grinned and brought out the finishing touch. "It's a clip-on. So it won't hurt. Just like I promised."

"You said you wouldn't stick sharp things in me if I cooperated. That does not translate to 'you will wear an earring, Xander'." He crossed his arms and scowled.

"You will wear an earring, Xander." Parker narrowed her eyes. "Because it will look so good on you. Hold. Still."

"Do I look like a pirate?" Xander asked, turning his head away. "No."

He glanced down at his vest, and the expanse of skin bared by it. "I look like a member of the Village People, is what I look like."

"No one will make that comparison if you just act like you're confident, Xander. If I wanted to think of myself as a high-rent Queen of the Damned, that's what they see. But they won't. I'm Titania." She raised one cool eyebrow at him. "And We are not amused."

MSND [slowplay]

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