[Mingler] The Death of Agrippina: Casting Results

[cyranosavignien]

It took Cyrano a few weeks to finish up his play, to make up his mind on the casting. The results of the readings are finally posted one morning on the Mansion's billboard, in his clean, cold, intellectual yet flamboyant penmanship.

The Death of Agrippina
A tragedy in 5 acts
CAST:
TIBERIUS, emperor of Rome. - Locke Lamora
SEJANUS, Tiberius' favorite

Comments

[cyranosavignien]

Cyrano has indeed spent all night writing. His hands are stained with ink, there's a bit of wine on the side of his collar, and his boots are kicked off.

He's resting with his thrice-plumed hat on his face, to shield him from the light, but is thankfully not snoring.

As indicated up there, he'll be sleeping only for the first commenter, resting (or pretending to) for the others.

[77th_earl]

He might hear a small, delighted "Ahh!" nearby, and if he looks up, he'll find Titus standing there, looking at the cast list and smiling, pleased.

Titus was sure that he hadn't made the cut at all. But circumstances have surprised him yet again.

[cyranosavignien]

Cyrano is a light sleeper - remnants from the siege, and almost startles out of his uneasy rest.

"--- Monsieur Groan."

[77th_earl]

"Master de Bergerac, I hope that I did not disturb you," he says, bowing and giving one of his rare smiles. "I was not expecting to be selected for a named role, much less Sejanus. I thought that I had scuttled all possibilities."

[aru_iru]

Alphonse spots the notice only after coming in from practice by the lake. He's still surprised about being picked as stage manager and hopes he can live up to it.

Well, he'll try. He does wonder who Utena and Malcolm are though...

Open to anybody, but looking for other stage hands and such.

[mal_badinlatin]

He won't have long to wonder who Malcolm is, or at least be approached by a fellow who'll answer to that name. A tall fellow clad in a reddish brown shirt and close-fitting khaki riding trousers approaches, eying the cast listing. "Huh, looks like I made the cut," he says, with a note of relief.

[aru_iru]

Al overhears this and turns to the man. "Really? Which part did you get?"

[mal_badinlatin]

"Stage hand," he says. "What I signed up for. Ain't got the memory t' remember lines, 'less they got a part f'r a mute."

[killedthesnake]

Neville wanders over to read the notice, an apple in his hand. He's somehow managed to miss news of this before, not that he would have tried out for a role. He's pleasantly surprised that someone is putting this together here, and idly muses his Gran would enjoy a good play.

He wonders if there's anything he could do to help behind the scenes. Perhaps special props or special effects? He'd scratch his head, but he takes a bite of his apple instead.

Anyone that wants to talk to Neville, feel free to tag.

[in_summer_leaf]

"Hello," says Hisoka, to the young man who is eating an apple. "Are you going to be in this production, too?"

[killedthesnake]

Neville swallows quickly at the voice, wiping his mouth on the back of his shirt sleeve before answering. "Hi," he replies, smiling with a shake of his head. "This is the first I've heard of it," he admits. "Are you involved?"

[in_summer_leaf]

"I'm going to play Terentius. I've never acted onstage before, though, so I guess it'll be a challenge." He smiles back. "I'm Hisoka Kurosaki, by the way."

[in_summer_leaf]

Hisoka is looking up at the casting results notice and is delighted and a little scared to find he has been cast for the part of Terentius. And now he is going to have to work hard. A smile spreads across his face.

{{He is open to talking to anybody. And he does want to congratulate Titus on bagging the part of Sejanus.}}

[rob_fellows]

Not too far, a young man who probably reads as non-human, and not a shinigami either, is balancing, looking at the add, and chuckling.

"Heh, no priest this time," Robin says to himself, though it's probably a way to start conversation. "Guess he's trying something new."

[in_summer_leaf]

Hisoka turns his head, looking curiously at this young man. "Does Monsieur de Bergerac usually put priests in his plays?" he asks.

Not human, and not dead, either. An elemental spirit, maybe?

[rob_fellows]

"Well, I don't know about usually, but he did last time," Robin replies, chuckling. And look at his face, Hisoka, doesn't he look priestly?

Mitotic bastard is the acknowledged canon identification, though it's fairly unhelpful. A puck is what Robin calls himself. Some would say 'goblin', but he would take it poorly, we expect.

When they first met, he was identified as a human-looking yokai by Tsuzuki, if it helps.

[scalpedsociety]

Our composer with the messy hair looked at the results and smiled. However the smiling did not last too long, as she is now holed up in the ballroom with sheet paper, quill, ink, and the piano.

Songs are played, but only fragments of them. And every once in a while she bangs on the piano in frustation and a sheet is tossed away.

Hopefully someone can come a break her out of this. (We didn't say it was going to be easy...)

[ourraisondetre]

There aren't many things within the mansion that remind him of home. The piano is, however, one of few things that does. He stops automatically when he hears it being played, mere steps from the ballroom, listening to the sporadic patches of tune. It automatically reminds him of Eugénie: she always had her hands glued to the piano keys, and her music is one of the things Franz misses the most.

He knows it's not her playing, of course-this music doesn't bear the elegant style that makes each composition uniquely hers-though there have been times that Franz has almost been able to hope that it was, despite his mind knowing distinctly otherwise.

Wincing at the sound of the piano keys being assaulted, Franz finally allows his curiosity to take over and enters the ballroom. He doesn't know the woman seated at the piano, though perhaps he's seen her a few times in passing.

He watches her toss a sheet of paper away and raises an eyebrow, his pace slow and casual. "Having trouble?"

[scalpedsociety]

Aramat looks down at the piano, clearly irritated.

"Yes. I'm doing a score for a play for the first time and I'm stuck on a certain scene... it just doesn't sound right..." She bites her (visibly scarred) fingers out of frustration.

She looks up at Franz and gets a sudden look of guilt. "I'm sorry..."

[ourraisondetre]

"For?" he asks, arching an eyebrow as he bends down to pick up one of the discarded pieces of paper. He tries to read the notes, imagine the snatches of abandoned melody. He's not an expert at reading music by any means, but he knows enough to get a vague idea. "How do you want it to sound?"