[Now we're gonna do it anyway]
title: yet there is method in 't
author: mazily
fandom: slings & arrows
original: aj's if wishes were horses (fandom: m*a*s*h)
things: geoffrey, geoffrey/ellen. in a vague sort of post-s.2 fugue state. 960 words. written for the bordy remix. geoffrey likes to quote from shakespeare. i own nothing; i was only showing harry my grindylow.
fake catchy remix title: if wishes were horses (the [ubiquitous richard iii quote here] remix)
tagline: "war is war, soldiers are soldiers, ambition is ambition." (oliver wells)
i. macbe-
Geoffrey doesn't believe in The Curse. He doesn't believe in fate, in witches, in ghosts (even the ones he sees, the ones he speaks to, who speak to him, ghosts who won't leave him the fuck alone, Oliver, even when he's trying to think). Geoffrey does believe in curses. He always says, "break a leg." ("Good luck," he whispers, once, and he holds his breath. Knocks on wood. Steps under a ladder, trips over a black cat, and hunts down another bottle of whiskey)
ii. richard ii
A kid, no more than thirty, asks, "Hey, didn't Pacino do that movie?"
Geoffrey opens a bottle of wine (red, screw cap, cheap; the festival's broke, the festival's always fucking broke, and this is Richard Smith-Stupid's latest cost-cutting scheme). "That's the other Richard, and it was really more of a documentary, a making-of, than a the actual. This is Richard II. Rich men look sad and ruffians dance and leap, the one in fear to lose what they enjoy, the other to enjoy by rage and war: these signs forerun the death or fall of kings? Fuck."
The kid shrugs. "Right. Whatever."
Geoffrey walks away (exeunt, upstage left, coat flapping-- the right costuming is an important, though by no means integral, part of any production-- dramatically). Oliver is sitting on Geoffrey's desk, legs crossed and his own fucking skull in his hand.
"Oliver!" Geoffrey says, "Fuck, I hate you."
iii. hamlet
Richard sits down next to Geoffrey at the bar. They drink. "To be or not to be, eh?" Richard asks. Geoffrey falls off his stool. He can't stop laughing. He can't breathe.
“When you've finished with your little breakdown,” Oliver says.
iv. the tempest
Kate comes back to New Burbage with: blonde highlights, three suitcases, and a tan line on her left ring finger. "I," she says, "it's not that he didn't love me, or I him, or, or, whatever. It's just, I saw Hamlet when I was twelve, and then, to get the opportunity, to be Ophelia. I saw Romeo and Juliet when I was thirteen, The Dream at fourteen. It's."
"Yeah," Geoffrey says. He passes the bottle. Kate drinks, a longer swallow than he'd expected. They sit, staring at each other across the table. (Out in the corridor, Anne is shouting, "Stupid bloody cocksucking copier, fucking WORK!") They both wince. Pass the bottle back and forth.
"Ask her how old she was when she saw The Tempest," Oliver suggests. He's juggling, or trying to.
"I will," Geoffrey says. "I'm getting to it."
Kate looks to her left, right through Oliver's circus act. She doesn't ask, "Getting to what?"
v. henry v
"I"m Henry the Eight, I am I am, Henry the Eighth, I am I am. I sold my soul for some apple JAM, oh, Henry the Eighth, I am I AAAAAM," Geoffrey sings. He bows. He is drunk. Oliver is standing just behind (upstage, left of) Ellen, eating an apple. Geoffrey just wants to go to sleep. He wants to go home.
"C'mon, Geoffrey," Ellen says. "I'm taking you-"
(vi. lady mac-)
"War is war, soldiers are soldiers, ambition is ambition." (Oliver Wells)
vii. as you like it
"Did you know," Ellen asks, "That Rosalind has more lines in As You Like It than Maccers has in the entirety of the Scottish play?" She takes another drag off her cigarette, and her shoulders visibly drop.
Geoffrey says, "Yes." He did know. It doesn't matter.
"Not that line counts actually mean anything," Oliver says. "To anyone but actors desperately comparing cock sizes and actresses-"
"I KNOW!" Geoffrey says. "Fuck. Just, fuck."
Ellen breaks up with him (take thirty-seven) on a Tuesday morning. She doesn't tell him (it's okay, they get back together Wednesday evening). Geoffrey doesn't break up with Ellen at all, though he occasionally runs away (for a night, two, a month). Sometimes, when she's asleep, he'll say, "Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you."
Sometimes she's not asleep, and she listens.
viii. antony and cleopatra
He asks her over eggs and toast. "Ellen, wilst thou be my Juliet?"
She says, "Geoffrey." She says, "No." She says, "You know I hate that play!" and she throws a piece of toast (whole wheat, no butter) at his head. She doesn't miss. He lets the toast fall to the floor, then leans over to pick it up. Wipes it on his shirt. Bites into it with a smile.
When he's finished, Geoffrey drops to the floor (with a decided flourish-- he was an actor once, after all, and it's in his blood) and kneels at Ellen's side. He asks, "But will you be my Cleopatra, and I your Antony? For her own person, It beggar'd all description."
Ellen asks, "Geoffrey, what do?" She drops her fork. It clatters against her plate. "Geoffrey."
"Ellen?"
She blinks. Says, "Professionally, yes, you know I. And personally-" She laughs.
"Personally," he prompts. "Personally, you-"
"I," she says.
Geoffrey leans forward, frames her face in his hands. Her hair is damp as he pushes it behind her ears. She leans in for a kiss, and Oliver appears. He applauds, wiping away fake tears with a bright orange handkerchief. Geoffrey pulls back (Ellen leans forward, kisses his cheek, his forehead, his nose; she's unbuttoning his shirt and trying to remove his pants), he's trying to catch his breath, and whispers, "GO AWAY, you pervert, I'm-"
(ix. macbeth-- ha!, there, he's said it)
The original copy of Geoffrey's biographical "blurb" (for promotional materials, playbills, press releases, etc.) reads: When he isn't busy talking to ghosts and generally being batshit insane (unofficial diagnosis), Geoffrey Tennant is the interim Artistic Director of the New Burbage Theatre Festival, where he is currently directing Something Pretentious in Modern Dress.
x. julius caesar
"Et tu Brute?" Oliver asks.
"Then fall, Caesar." Geoffrey swoons, flinging himself onto the sofa (which creaks). He laughs.
*fin.
author: mazily
fandom: slings & arrows
original: aj's if wishes were horses (fandom: m*a*s*h)
things: geoffrey, geoffrey/ellen. in a vague sort of post-s.2 fugue state. 960 words. written for the bordy remix. geoffrey likes to quote from shakespeare. i own nothing; i was only showing harry my grindylow.
fake catchy remix title: if wishes were horses (the [ubiquitous richard iii quote here] remix)
tagline: "war is war, soldiers are soldiers, ambition is ambition." (oliver wells)
i. macbe-
Geoffrey doesn't believe in The Curse. He doesn't believe in fate, in witches, in ghosts (even the ones he sees, the ones he speaks to, who speak to him, ghosts who won't leave him the fuck alone, Oliver, even when he's trying to think). Geoffrey does believe in curses. He always says, "break a leg." ("Good luck," he whispers, once, and he holds his breath. Knocks on wood. Steps under a ladder, trips over a black cat, and hunts down another bottle of whiskey)
ii. richard ii
A kid, no more than thirty, asks, "Hey, didn't Pacino do that movie?"
Geoffrey opens a bottle of wine (red, screw cap, cheap; the festival's broke, the festival's always fucking broke, and this is Richard Smith-Stupid's latest cost-cutting scheme). "That's the other Richard, and it was really more of a documentary, a making-of, than a the actual. This is Richard II. Rich men look sad and ruffians dance and leap, the one in fear to lose what they enjoy, the other to enjoy by rage and war: these signs forerun the death or fall of kings? Fuck."
The kid shrugs. "Right. Whatever."
Geoffrey walks away (exeunt, upstage left, coat flapping-- the right costuming is an important, though by no means integral, part of any production-- dramatically). Oliver is sitting on Geoffrey's desk, legs crossed and his own fucking skull in his hand.
"Oliver!" Geoffrey says, "Fuck, I hate you."
iii. hamlet
Richard sits down next to Geoffrey at the bar. They drink. "To be or not to be, eh?" Richard asks. Geoffrey falls off his stool. He can't stop laughing. He can't breathe.
“When you've finished with your little breakdown,” Oliver says.
iv. the tempest
Kate comes back to New Burbage with: blonde highlights, three suitcases, and a tan line on her left ring finger. "I," she says, "it's not that he didn't love me, or I him, or, or, whatever. It's just, I saw Hamlet when I was twelve, and then, to get the opportunity, to be Ophelia. I saw Romeo and Juliet when I was thirteen, The Dream at fourteen. It's."
"Yeah," Geoffrey says. He passes the bottle. Kate drinks, a longer swallow than he'd expected. They sit, staring at each other across the table. (Out in the corridor, Anne is shouting, "Stupid bloody cocksucking copier, fucking WORK!") They both wince. Pass the bottle back and forth.
"Ask her how old she was when she saw The Tempest," Oliver suggests. He's juggling, or trying to.
"I will," Geoffrey says. "I'm getting to it."
Kate looks to her left, right through Oliver's circus act. She doesn't ask, "Getting to what?"
v. henry v
"I"m Henry the Eight, I am I am, Henry the Eighth, I am I am. I sold my soul for some apple JAM, oh, Henry the Eighth, I am I AAAAAM," Geoffrey sings. He bows. He is drunk. Oliver is standing just behind (upstage, left of) Ellen, eating an apple. Geoffrey just wants to go to sleep. He wants to go home.
"C'mon, Geoffrey," Ellen says. "I'm taking you-"
(vi. lady mac-)
"War is war, soldiers are soldiers, ambition is ambition." (Oliver Wells)
vii. as you like it
"Did you know," Ellen asks, "That Rosalind has more lines in As You Like It than Maccers has in the entirety of the Scottish play?" She takes another drag off her cigarette, and her shoulders visibly drop.
Geoffrey says, "Yes." He did know. It doesn't matter.
"Not that line counts actually mean anything," Oliver says. "To anyone but actors desperately comparing cock sizes and actresses-"
"I KNOW!" Geoffrey says. "Fuck. Just, fuck."
Ellen breaks up with him (take thirty-seven) on a Tuesday morning. She doesn't tell him (it's okay, they get back together Wednesday evening). Geoffrey doesn't break up with Ellen at all, though he occasionally runs away (for a night, two, a month). Sometimes, when she's asleep, he'll say, "Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you."
Sometimes she's not asleep, and she listens.
viii. antony and cleopatra
He asks her over eggs and toast. "Ellen, wilst thou be my Juliet?"
She says, "Geoffrey." She says, "No." She says, "You know I hate that play!" and she throws a piece of toast (whole wheat, no butter) at his head. She doesn't miss. He lets the toast fall to the floor, then leans over to pick it up. Wipes it on his shirt. Bites into it with a smile.
When he's finished, Geoffrey drops to the floor (with a decided flourish-- he was an actor once, after all, and it's in his blood) and kneels at Ellen's side. He asks, "But will you be my Cleopatra, and I your Antony? For her own person, It beggar'd all description."
Ellen asks, "Geoffrey, what do?" She drops her fork. It clatters against her plate. "Geoffrey."
"Ellen?"
She blinks. Says, "Professionally, yes, you know I. And personally-" She laughs.
"Personally," he prompts. "Personally, you-"
"I," she says.
Geoffrey leans forward, frames her face in his hands. Her hair is damp as he pushes it behind her ears. She leans in for a kiss, and Oliver appears. He applauds, wiping away fake tears with a bright orange handkerchief. Geoffrey pulls back (Ellen leans forward, kisses his cheek, his forehead, his nose; she's unbuttoning his shirt and trying to remove his pants), he's trying to catch his breath, and whispers, "GO AWAY, you pervert, I'm-"
(ix. macbeth-- ha!, there, he's said it)
The original copy of Geoffrey's biographical "blurb" (for promotional materials, playbills, press releases, etc.) reads: When he isn't busy talking to ghosts and generally being batshit insane (unofficial diagnosis), Geoffrey Tennant is the interim Artistic Director of the New Burbage Theatre Festival, where he is currently directing Something Pretentious in Modern Dress.
x. julius caesar
"Et tu Brute?" Oliver asks.
"Then fall, Caesar." Geoffrey swoons, flinging himself onto the sofa (which creaks). He laughs.
*fin.