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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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Pip glared at the other actors. And the other "actors".

Bunch of ametuers. He'd show 'em.

"Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver."

He had actually manage to get that out without spitting.

Well, until the end.

Xander stalked out from stage right, wearing rather more makeup than anybody'd ever painted on him while he slept, a gold stud in his right ear, and more leather than he'd ever worn in his life - and now that Xander wasn't quite Xander, there wasn't a creak to be heard from any of it as he moved.

"Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed," he said easily, somewhere between bored and amused.

Pip looked up and down at Xander.

When had he become such an arrogant bastard? And what the hell was with his leather pants? Didn't he know what an idiot he looked?

Note to self, Pip thought. Outlaw leather pants.

The fact that he was in no position to do so was kind of ignored.

His neck was really itching, though.

"You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus."

Oh look, he said an s word. Oh look, spittle is just going everywhere. Yep, some just went all over Xander and his nice leather pants.

Xander raised an eyebrow, but instead of smacking the idiot down, merely snorted and stepped out of his gleeking range. It was hardly worth the time or effort to mess about with fools, when there were more fulfilling encounters waiting to occur.

"What is Pyramus?" he asked, though he'd long known the answer, through the many years since the first time this game had been played. "A lover, or a tyrant?"

Yep. Pip thought. Arrogant idiot.

He always had been.

No he hadn't. He was kind of a geeky nerd before.

Not him him, him him.

...

Now what the hell did that mean?

"A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love."

Pip idly wondered how many cows were slaughtered in the name of Xander's outfit. Damn shame.

"That will ask some tears in the true performing of it: if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms. I will condole in some measure."

Mayhap the first storm moved might be the typhoon
in this jackanapes' mouth, he thought, and for a second amused himself with the picture of the boy blowing away off the stage unde the force of his own hurricane spittle, never to be seen again.

Somewhere in there, Xander snickered. Not because he necessarily agreed with his puppetmaster's opinion, but hey, comedy gold is comedy gold, and spit-takes are comedy gold.

"To the rest: yet my chief humour is for a tyrant." And here he lay in agreement with the boy whose body he had stolen - what waste of better passions, to care for such things as crowns and lands, when more pleasurable pleasures were there for the taking.

"I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split."

He recited Bottom's great kingly oration as these children would recite a nursemaid's rhyme, and what were Bottom the Fool's lines but that, after all?

"The raging rocks and shivering shocks shall break the locks of prison gates; and Phibbus' car shall shine from far and make and mar the foolish Fates."

"This was lofty!" he mocked himself. "Now name the rest of the players."

And aside, as if anyone cares, Nick Bottom, as if anyone is listening to you - "This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is more condoling."

After a few more lines of dialogue, Jack Harkness needed to convince the audience he did not want to play Thisbe. "Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming."

Who cared if he wanted to play Thisbe or not? That was his job. To play Thisbe.

What a whiner.

"That's all one: you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will."

Somehow the spit manages to fly towards everyone on stage. Even if they aren't in front of Pip.

Don't ask how. Fairy magic.

Again, Xander's body simply stepped aside, not taking the time to bother even with a moue of distaste.

"An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too," he said. Ah, Bottom, you would play every role if they gave it you, and grind them all to dust with your great huge oat-chewing teeth.

"I'll speak in a monstrous little voice. 'Thisne, Thisne;' 'Ah, Pyramus, lover dear! thy Thisby dear, and lady dear!"

There were a few more lines, and Krycek spoke up. "Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study."

Yes. Talking lions.

Real brilliant.

"You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring." he said.

"Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar,that I will make the duke say 'Let him roar again, let him roar again.' "

Niall - for t'was his name ~~though given him only lately by his lady queen OMG~~ - took a fit of fancy on himself, and used a voice not made for human throats to demonstrate that roar.

"ROARRRRRRRRRRR"

Pip glared at Xander.

It was his special one-eye concenterated "You stupid son of a bitch" glare.

"An you should do it too terribly, you would fright the duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek; and that were enough to hang us all."

The subtext dripping from his voice said, quite plainly "Let's not alert the nice potenial flaming mob and the nice people with powerful magical powers that we're possesing these humans in your mad quest to get into the queen's pants."

Yes, he said all that in subtext. Fairy subtext. Fairy subtext is very deep stuff. Because, ya know, it's fairies and everything.

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MSND [slowplay]

Re: ACT I, Scene II

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