[Open to All Auditioners] Casting Call for Agatha Christie's The Mousetrap

[howmanylives]

After the Island's latest prank on Halloween, Jamie was, admittedly, concerned that not enough people would show up for auditions. He'd considered postponing the casting call for a later date, but had, ultimately, decided against it. The snowstorm was such a vital component to the play's plot that the idea of performing it in tropical weather didn'

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[new_ophelia]

It's weird to feel nervous. But it's been, God, like nine months since Midsummer and it feels like a lifetime ago.

But she needs this. She needs to do this without Jack.

She steps up and gives a little wave.

"Hi, my name is Kate McNab. I was an actress back home, mostly Shakespeare on the professional level but I did some contemporary in drama school. I've played Ophelia, Juliet, uh...Lysander, actually, Hero and some smaller roles. I played Stella in Streetcar and the usual terrible productions of Our Town when I was a teenager. I prepared a monologue from Hanging Women."

[howmanylives]

The problem with casting here, Jamie quickly learned, was that a lot of people were wandering around with celebrity faces. Take this Kate, for example -- she was the spitting image of Rachel McAdams, an actress whose filmography was distinctly lacking in this type of material, with the possible exception of Sherlock Holmes, but he'd never had a chance to see that flick, on account of getting stuck on the damn Island. Then again, he wasn't casting Rachel McAdams in anything -- he was trying to cast Kate McNab, who, if her resumé was anything to go by, should at least be decent, though her choice of monologue earned an arched eyebrow, nevertheless.

"...interesting, Ms. McNab," he said slowly, and he nodded once, lifting his free hand to gesture for her to continue. He jotted down her information with his other. "Go on."

[new_ophelia]

She closes her eyes for just a second. It takes no effort for Kate to pull up feelings of loss and longing and anxiety and repression and the mask she puts on for her kid day after day

[howmanylives]

His eyebrows crept higher and higher up his forehead right up until she finished. That she had talent wasn't in question, but the choice had been, as he'd noted, interesting. Whatever expectations he'd had based on her experience were thoroughly subverted -- she wasn't gunning for the part he'd anticipated, not with that monologue. In a way, he supposed, it was almost refreshing. Schooling his expression into something more neutral, he jotted down a few notes under her name, then asked, "How's your English accent?"

[dishabille_mal]

Maladicta wasn't positive, but she thought she might have had the heebie jeebies just from considering auditioning for a play Geoffrey wasn't directing. Waiting for her turn made her think of the first time she'd auditioned, so raw, fighting her way through Julius Caesar, unaware that Geoffrey was seeing pieces of something he could use in a wholly different way.

She understood the craft of theater, now, but this wasn't Shakespeare, and this Madrox fellow wasn't Geoffrey Tennant. Although he did have the faint air of the unhinged about him, and that, at least, she could appreciate.

It was the first time she'd gotten up in front of someone that wasn't Vimes and delivered something that wasn't a patrol report since she'd had Olivia. Post-natal acting. It might prove interesting. At least she mostly looked herself, again, if her hair was getting a bit long for her tastes.

Aloof as ever, as was her natural inclination, but aware of it and not actively trying to be so, she tucked her hands behind her back and stood center stage. Her hip

[howmanylives]

If the mention of her having been nine months pregnant fazed him, Jamie made a damn good show of hiding it, though he did make a note beside her name that the Island's audience apparently had a Herculean capacity for suspending its disbelief. Realizing he'd stopped actively listening after the word hell, he had to mentally rewind her list of credentials, going through them again in his own head -- and paused, just the once, to process the part about her being an ex-vampire -- before he nodded, absently.

"Alright, Ms. ....von Borogravia de Worde," he said, having to think, for a moment, what she'd called herself. He recognized her, vaguely, from around the IPD office, but he'd known only her first name. "You may proceed."

[dishabille_mal]

"...maybe just Maladicta," she said, looking vaguely perturbed by the length of the full thing. What had she done to her child?

Maladicta smiled and her ingrained air of je sais melted into a pretty affection

[howmanylives]

Jamie watched her intently, drawn into the performance. There was something enigmatic about her presence that appealed to him in a way he couldn't, somewhat appropriately, pinpoint. After she'd finished, it took him a moment to remember he ought to write his impressions down before they were lost in the chaotic mess that was his thoughts on a normal day. Once he'd scribbled down a few words, he pulled himself up to his feet, pacing for a few seconds before he turned on the spot to refocus his attention on Maladicta.

"What," he asked, "are the odds that you remember a passage from Midsummer? I'd like to see your interpretation of a male character."

[headofaccounts]

Pete hadn't attended any sort of audition since getting his job at Sterling Cooper. He'd never even taken part in the auditions that were occasionally held in the offices for the various commercials that were shot, but, well

[howmanylives]

"An ad man," he surmised thoughtfully, peering at the guy. If the name -- and face, for that matter -- hadn't tipped him off, his job description pretty much confirmed it. This was the oily kid off Mad Men. Jamie frowned, but it was more bemused than anything else.

There once was a boy named Peter Dykeman Campbell, and he almost deserved it.

After jotting down the guy's particulars, he leaned back, resting his weight on one hand, and drumming his fingers against the wood of the stage floor. "Alright, Mr. Campbell of Sterling Cooper -- show me what you got."

[headofaccounts]

Ad man. How long had it been since he'd heard the phrase? His smile only flickered once, and he shook his arms out and straightened up before taking a breath, and beginning his monologue. He had his pitch. He'd practiced it, and while he wasn't necessarily confident in interacting with people, he was confident in his job. Or at least a semblance of it

[howmanylives]

Shaw -- an interesting choice to be sure, and he earned a few points with Jamie for the selection alone. He'd half expected something by Miller, though given the man's reputation during Pete's lifetime, that had probably been foolish of him. Straightening out of his lean, he added a few quick notes under what he'd already written, then looked back up, his gaze intent.

"Just to sate my curiosity, would you mind taking it again from those last few lines?" he said, head tilting to the side. "I'd like to hear your attempt at an English accent. Don't worry about accuracy."

[wishesandsmoke]

It had been some time since Eden had auditioned for anything - since there had been anything to audition for - and while she was just a touch nervous, in that way these things always made her, she was mostly just excited. With Daisy gone and Gideon not working and this long lull between Geoffrey's projects, she hadn't been sure anything would happen again here.

She strode out to the center and gave a little wave. "Hi," she said. "Eden McCain. I've done a little bit of everything here: bit parts on Hollywood Embassy, that radio show? And in Romeo and Juliet. I understudied Hermia in A Midsummer Night's Dream earlier this year, I was Nessarose in a production of Wicked a couple years back and I had a lead role in The Island Job, Gideon Sparks' film, last year." None of it was especially big or impressive, aside from the fact of a film having been made here at all, but she'd had fun with all of it; that was the important thing.

[howmanylives]

"You have radio experience?" he said, and though he sounded pleased with that information, it was clear enough it was a rhetorical question, as he looked back down at his notebook right away instead of waiting for an answer, scribbling down her name and the interesting parts of her resumé. That she was yet another face he recognized from elsewhere, in this case, the first -- and only good -- season of Heroes he didn't bother noting.

Nodding to himself, he gestured with his free hand that she ought to continue. "What'll you be performing for me today, Miss McCain?"

[wishesandsmoke]

"Harper's closing monologue from Angels in America," Eden answered. It was a long one, but one she'd loved for quite a while now. Her instinct was to be a little self-deprecating, to say it had probably been done a million times, maybe even once already for these auditions, but she curbed that. Tried to, at least. She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes a moment, rolled her shoulders back; a kind of calm, or appearance thereof, washed over her. When she opened her eyes again, it was a little wider, trying to affect that distant, measured wondered that had drawn her to the speech when she'd read it.

"Night flight to San Francisco," she said with a smile, gaze tracking past him and out a window that wasn't there, cheated just a little to give a fuller view of her expression. "Chase the moon across America... God, it's been years since I was on a plane. When we hit thirty-five thousand feet, we'll have reached the tropopause. The great belt of calm air - as close as I'll ever get to the ozone. I dreamed we were there." She paused,

[howmanylives]

She was good -- better, frankly, than he'd expected -- and he nodded his approval once she finished, a smile touching the corner of his mouth as he jotted down a few of his immediate impressions, not wanting to forget them when the next audition rolled around. When he was done, he returned his gaze to Eden, eyeing her carefully, as though trying to envision her in the grander scheme of Christie's play.

"Tell me -- do you have much experience with accents?"

[getemtiger]

Though Mary Jane wasn't even sure of how many auditions she had done, there was no doubt in her mind that none of them had been quite so nervewracking as this was. She'd been practiced, then, comfortable if not always confident; after a time, it had become like a routine, including the rejections that typically followed, that would just send her off to repeat the process again. It was different, here. More than a year and a half had passed since she had so much as spoken a line onstage, longer still since her last audition, and on top of that, shows here were few and far between. If she blew this, there was no way of telling how long she would have to wait before she got another shot. This was the closest to her career she would ever get, now, and though she wasn't about to admit to as much, she needed it. Acting was the only thing she missed about home. Difficult though it may have been to pull herself together after Halloween, if there was anything that was worth it, it was the possibility of getting to perform again

[howmanylives]

Seeing as he'd married the Parkers, Jamie was about to cut off Mary Jane from her formal introduction, but then decided against it, dropping his hand without another word as she continued listing her credentials. If she was going to play the professional card, he was all too glad to follow her lead -- he had no interest in nepotism, and even if he did, he was still pissed about Parker's stunt on Stark's yacht during the hurricane. While his wife had played no part in that altercation -- not that Jamie knew of, at least -- it was still a hard fact to keep in mind, and that he was more familiar with her counterpart's body of work back in his universe was another point against her. Mary Jane Watson's forays into acting hadn't exactly earned her much critical praise.

But if anyone knew a thing or two about keeping an open mind -- not to mention clones -- it was Jamie Madrox, and so he was determined to keep his natural biases out of the casting process, for better or for worse. Her experience with Wilde was, admittedly, impressive

[getemtiger]

"Catherine, from Arthur Miller's A View from the Bridge," Mary Jane answered, finding herself almost grateful for the lack of personal response. It was easier to try to think of this as any other audition like that; though it didn't help to settle her nerves much, she was willing to take whatever she could get. As it was, she was just grateful she had a monologue in the first place. Better to use one that had done her well in the past than to battle the bookshelf, trying to find something else suitable and memorize it in such a short time. Given the unexpected turn of events a few days prior, that was a decision that had definitely served her well

[howmanylives]

If he'd watched Mary Jane more critically than the others so far, it was only to make sure he didn't miss anything -- she was, in a way, at a disadvantage, and though some part of him had thought to warn her, he'd decided against in the end. Seeing her now, he was glad he'd held his tongue.

"You've done your homework," Jamie surmised after a beat, pulling himself up to his feet. He almost wanted to ask if things were alright at home, between her and her husband, but they'd struck out on a professional tone, and he had no need to deviate from that for the sake of idle curiosity. "You don't happen to remember anything of Cecily Cardew's? I'd like to hear your English accent, and Miller's no good for that."