The Boards - Thursday, 9/4 - PERFORMANCE!!!1!
Having a definite MacFinlay meant that he was reasonably all right today, though he was still in the position of finding another Dougan unless Maron came back (which he doubted
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Actors, act!
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But just when it seemed that everything was going great, she missed her mark, lost track of where she was in relation to the edge, and ended up falling off the stage with an "Ooof!"
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No, not extra Drama. As always happened when trying to scam someone, Sophie Devereaux was actually acting well. Without even trying, or having to think about the direction, or reigning herself in. She simply was Lady MacGruder, bitter and worried about her husband.
He loves us not;
He wants the natural touch.
For the poor wren, the most diminutive of birds,
will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
And her husband had abandoned her and her child (as Marc Patterson had abandoned his wife, and Nate had abandoned them for a while) and left her to manage on her own, and what use did she have for platitudes about bravery and honor?
All is the fear and nothing is the love,
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.
Robin *was* her son, her husband *was* gone, it was just that...
Whither should I fly ( ... )
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Had he his hurts before?
Dinah was intensely trying not to mess up, or forget her lines, which made her ultra, extra tense as Stewart was told his son had died.
Why then, God's soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death.
And Edward was happy, right? But he would've had so much fun with this, if they'd gotten the chance to act together, all of them, and.... Dinah bit down hard on that thought, and stupid tears, no, blink hard, they won't fall. Stewart, Stewart, honor-bravery-no-crying-in-Scotland.
And so, his knell is knolled.
He's worth no more.
They say he parted well and paid his score.
C'mon. Last line. Get your breath. Act. A deep breath, and Dinah looked past the king to nod at the messenger.
And so, God be with him!
Here comes newer comfort. And felt her face relax into exhaustion once that ( ... )
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He did, though, speak slightly more deeply, and with the barest hint of Scotland in his voice. His Marshall was, above all, a good boy who would one day be a good king, and one who he let age over the course of the play -- from dutiful son, to shocked orphan, to king-in-waiting willing and able to use deviousness to test an ally, to regent.
There were bobbles in his performance; he lost track of his lines at the very end of act II, and he overplayed a few lines reaching for comedy and missing it. But in the end, it was a performance he could be proud of.
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(At least, she thought it worked better.)
No, she didn't set herself on fire this time, which was not to say her part went off without mishap; one particularly dramatic exit ended with her swooping off in grand style . . . where she proceeded to get tangled up nicely in the legs.
Disentangling yourself from that much heavy fabric was hard.
Particularly when a sandbag narrowly missed your head and got you in the foot just as soon as you'd gotten free.
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Karla could think of one answer. It would have been harder to pull off if she didn't know exactly how such a female would look and sound in this kind of situation. Fortunately, she'd had a model in one of the younger Black Widows in the coven, back in Glacia. When it came to sex and sensuality, Karla was barely able to participate, but she knew how the game was played.
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men ( ... )
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Man, he loved that bit. Even if he was totally getting shown up by Karla's witchy effects.
Show off.
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And he exuded all the emotion of a sack of potatoes.
Well, you couldn't have everything.
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