The one person Geoffrey did not want to see at Hogwarts. He had gone to bed some nights praying, agnoticism be damned, for Darren Nichols not to show up here. And now he was, the last person on the entire planet wanted to see.
Well, all right, maybe Barbara the Lizard Queen was worse. If only by virtue of the fact that at least Darren had never gotten Geoffrey kicked out of his own house.
Still, this was pretty bad.
"Darren," he asked loudly, striding into the Sorting Room, "would you please be so good as to tell me what the fuck you are doing here?"
"Hello, Geoffrey!" Darren smiles at him, but his tone becomes sardonic. "I'm pleased to see you, too."
Darren steps close and kisses Geoffrey on each cheek- not because he's feeling particularly European at the moment, but because it will make Geoffrey uncomfortable. "Imagine my surprise when I found myself transported from the theatre, called here for a Higher Purpose of some kind." He sniffs, dramatically. "I always knew I was destined for great things."
Unfortunately, Darren was far too good at knowing what would make Geoffrey uncomfortable. He grimaced and pulled back from the kissing, looking a bit ill. It wasn't homophobia by any means -- one couldn't possibly work in the theater for as impossibly long as he had and cling to that kind of prejudice. It was just that it was Darren. He could have looked like a Playboy Bunny and Geoffrey still would have cringed.
"Yes, very well," he muttered, glaring at Darren through narrowed eyes, "but is there any reason you feel the need to do them here?" Great things. Ha. "By the way, as far as I know, the only person to do great things combining horses and art was Longfellow when he wrote 'Paul Revere's Ride.' And even that's debatable."
Darren responds to Geoffrey with an innocent expression. "As I said, something else has determined that I'm fated to be here. I'm sure that my purpose for being here specifically will reveal itself with time. For starters, it seems that you are in the midst of making The Dream a reality and could use my help. Ellen was quite insistent I do my part."
This would teach her to treat him so poorly; if he truly 'drains every good and decent thing from any production you touch,' this one should be easier to ruin than most.
"And, Geoffrey, I would beg to differ. Equus is a brilliant play. A little modern for your tastes, but that hardly means you should dismiss it out of hand."
The blood drained from Geoffrey's face. "Ellen was insistent?" he demanded, taking a step forward. "Ellen said that? Oh, that evil-minded..." He trailed off, muttering to himself, his hands clenching into reflexive fists as he raised them. All right, no, no flying off the handle -- yet. He could practically hear Oliver snickering at him as he gripped his lapels and tried to breathe in deep.
But, of course, he couldn't.
That would have been crazy.
"Darren," he said slowly, sounding strained, "There is nothing here for you. If you think I am going to let you near my production you are insane, and I think I know a thing or two about that. Now, if you really think you feel the need to learn magic, obviously I can't stop you -- although believe me when I say I dearly wish I could -- but if you must do it here," he jabbed his hands towards the floor for emphasis, "I would prefer you do it as far away from me and my Dream as possible."
Darren takes an involuntary step back, as memories of being skewered by Geoffrey spring to mind. Of course, this isn't enough to stop him from provoking Geoffrey. "Now, now, Geoffrey. Isn't one supposed to honor and obey one's wife? Besides, I realize that it pains you to admit it, but you are one man and don't have time to attend to every detail of the show. Let me help you, for the sake of your art."
He rolls his eyes. "There must be something here for me. Otherwise I wouldn't have found myself at a place about which I knew nothing." Besides the theatre. "Anyways, your decision to turn me away may not be final. I already promised to help create the costumes, and the young girl you have doing it now seemed to think she'd be unable to finish in time without my help."
Geoffrey was pretty sure that he and Ellen had both read out the 'honor and obey' bit of the vows -- he thought he remembered that, at least -- but hell if either of them had paid much attention to it. Certainly, there hadn't been a whole lot of obeying going on in the Tennant-Fanshaw household lately except maybe in the bedroom. And anyway, he didn't care, siccing Darren on him was just downright mean. There were going to be words about that
( ... )
"No, Geoffrey, you're not hearing voices. Again. I said I'd do costumes. Feel free to check with Cassie." Darren also didn't know her name, but at least he had the excuse of never having learned it.
It seems to be his fate to be forever educating people in this place. It did make a nice change from talking about the theatre, though, as much as he loved it. "This is a poncho. The modern variant is of the same style as a shrug or shawl, but is more expansive. It's quite roomy and comfortable. I chose it for this ensemble to offset the tightness of the leather pants." Here, he spins around slowly to demonstrate the tightness of said pants on the lower half of his body. "You see?"
Vote: SparklypoocrazynotstonedAugust 6 2007, 06:16:51 UTC
Oh, that was really something he never needed to see. And sadly enough, he'd already seen it before. With rather less clothing.
What? They'd shared dressing rooms, back in the days when both of them actually took the stage instead of yelling at the people on it. Some of his memories of those days were... rather fonder than others. Geoffrey winced. "All right, all right. I get the idea."
Ensemble. "Christ," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "I'm going to owl Cassie about this, but in the meantime, Darren, I suppose I had better let you in." Still, he didn't want Darren anywhere near him. Better to vote him far, far away. What was the farthest house from Ravenclaw? He thought maybe that one with all the glitter... and God knew, Darren would fit in perfectly there.
Re: Vote: Sparklypoopost_stab_crierAugust 6 2007, 06:45:07 UTC
"Thank you, Geoffrey. There's no need to fear, I will transform your show into an unforgettable spectacle. People will be talking about it for ages."
At this point, Darren's probably treading on thin ice; while baiting Geoffrey is quite the thrill, how much longer could it be before Geoffrey attacks him or has a breakdown? "Well, Geoffrey, I'm sure you have plenty of work to do on the Dream and I'm quite busy getting my bearings here, so I bid you adieu, and good luck."
Re: Vote: SparklypoocrazynotstonedAugust 6 2007, 23:02:55 UTC
Geoffrey hefted a mighty sigh, rolling his eyes back into his head. "Of that, Darren," he proclaimed wearily, "I have no doubt." Coming from Darren, it sounded like far more of a threat than a promise.
At least the man was letting him leave now. "Good luck with your bearings," he offered bedgrudgingly. "I'm sure I shall have the dubious pleasure of seeing you again soon." Vote cast, he hurried out. This was not a happy development in his life.
Darren Nichols was here.
The one person Geoffrey did not want to see at Hogwarts. He had gone to bed some nights praying, agnoticism be damned, for Darren Nichols not to show up here. And now he was, the last person on the entire planet wanted to see.
Well, all right, maybe Barbara the Lizard Queen was worse. If only by virtue of the fact that at least Darren had never gotten Geoffrey kicked out of his own house.
Still, this was pretty bad.
"Darren," he asked loudly, striding into the Sorting Room, "would you please be so good as to tell me what the fuck you are doing here?"
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Darren steps close and kisses Geoffrey on each cheek- not because he's feeling particularly European at the moment, but because it will make Geoffrey uncomfortable. "Imagine my surprise when I found myself transported from the theatre, called here for a Higher Purpose of some kind." He sniffs, dramatically. "I always knew I was destined for great things."
Reply
"Yes, very well," he muttered, glaring at Darren through narrowed eyes, "but is there any reason you feel the need to do them here?" Great things. Ha. "By the way, as far as I know, the only person to do great things combining horses and art was Longfellow when he wrote 'Paul Revere's Ride.' And even that's debatable."
Reply
This would teach her to treat him so poorly; if he truly 'drains every good and decent thing from any production you touch,' this one should be easier to ruin than most.
"And, Geoffrey, I would beg to differ. Equus is a brilliant play. A little modern for your tastes, but that hardly means you should dismiss it out of hand."
Reply
But, of course, he couldn't.
That would have been crazy.
"Darren," he said slowly, sounding strained, "There is nothing here for you. If you think I am going to let you near my production you are insane, and I think I know a thing or two about that. Now, if you really think you feel the need to learn magic, obviously I can't stop you -- although believe me when I say I dearly wish I could -- but if you must do it here," he jabbed his hands towards the floor for emphasis, "I would prefer you do it as far away from me and my Dream as possible."
Reply
He rolls his eyes. "There must be something here for me. Otherwise I wouldn't have found myself at a place about which I knew nothing." Besides the theatre. "Anyways, your decision to turn me away may not be final. I already promised to help create the costumes, and the young girl you have doing it now seemed to think she'd be unable to finish in time without my help."
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It seems to be his fate to be forever educating people in this place. It did make a nice change from talking about the theatre, though, as much as he loved it. "This is a poncho. The modern variant is of the same style as a shrug or shawl, but is more expansive. It's quite roomy and comfortable. I chose it for this ensemble to offset the tightness of the leather pants." Here, he spins around slowly to demonstrate the tightness of said pants on the lower half of his body. "You see?"
Reply
What? They'd shared dressing rooms, back in the days when both of them actually took the stage instead of yelling at the people on it. Some of his memories of those days were... rather fonder than others. Geoffrey winced. "All right, all right. I get the idea."
Ensemble. "Christ," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "I'm going to owl Cassie about this, but in the meantime, Darren, I suppose I had better let you in." Still, he didn't want Darren anywhere near him. Better to vote him far, far away. What was the farthest house from Ravenclaw? He thought maybe that one with all the glitter... and God knew, Darren would fit in perfectly there.
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At this point, Darren's probably treading on thin ice; while baiting Geoffrey is quite the thrill, how much longer could it be before Geoffrey attacks him or has a breakdown? "Well, Geoffrey, I'm sure you have plenty of work to do on the Dream and I'm quite busy getting my bearings here, so I bid you adieu, and good luck."
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At least the man was letting him leave now. "Good luck with your bearings," he offered bedgrudgingly. "I'm sure I shall have the dubious pleasure of seeing you again soon." Vote cast, he hurried out. This was not a happy development in his life.
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