[gathering] the mousetrap opening

[howmanylives]

With the stage all but unusable during the Island's magical winter, a fact that Jamie had anticipated the moment he'd decided to hold the performance in late December months ago, Tabula Rasa's production of The Mousetrap was slated to have its first (and only) showing in the transformed gymnasium of the Rec Center. The Seussian quality of the

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[coffee_sir]

Ianto felt beat. Sleep had been a prized commodity in the past two weeks, constantly sought and rarely found. He had managed well enough, catching an odd handful of hours here and there and having trained himself to function on little sleep in the past. But now that everything was said and done, the adrenaline from everyone's pre-show jitters had faded away and the exhaustion set in.

He blinked blearily from the seat he had grabbed himself, after the curtain call, on the bleachers. Just a little while longer and he could go home to sleep. Maybe Cadi would wait until midnight for the first round of crying.

[dr_robchase]

Chase couldn't help a bemused laugh when he saw Ianto. "You," he said with a delighted grin -- as if he was almost basking in this, "look exhausted. But at the same time, you look good, mate," he promised. "How's Cadi?"

[coffee_sir]

"Do you win a lot of patients over with that charm?" Ianto replied dryly. But before long he smirked, wearily but pleasantly, at Chase. "Lovely. She's already figured out how to use her lungs for screaming and has mastered the use of nappies."

[dr_robchase]

"It's the burden of being a father with a no-longer newborn," Chase lamented with a mild shrug. "It means that I'm allowed to share your pain, but also take pleasure in knowing that I'll go home and Nate is able to put on his pajamas himself, now." His smile was genuine by the time they got to talking about Cadi, though. "At least you know she's got a voice on her?"

[usethecompany]

Pleased with himself, Archie weaved his way through the crowd looking for familiar faces to which to speak. This had been his first substantial role in island theater events, not a role which his previous other had taken. His mistakes had been minimal and gone, as far as he could discern from the audience's reaction, largely unnoticed. He felt giddy with excitement and accomplishment -- a common enough state for him, especially after a play. But there was an additional ounce of pride which made itself apparent in his stride and air. He was, in fact, an actor. Perhaps not the best, but he had certainly earned the title.

[stoicsidekick]

Now that was a play.

William Bush had attended every theatrical production on the island quite faithfully and calmly merely because Archie had wished him to. He had silently (well, relatively silently) endured Shakespearian speeches at midnight, had run lines he still did not understand, had applauded the loudest at all the right moments. He had even enjoyed interminable Shakespeare play after Shakespeare play thanks to the way that they made Archie glow with joy and with pride.

But not being the literary sort, never had he enjoyed these productions for their own sake - until now. For here, finally, was a show he could get behind. A clever little mystery, witty lines, a flair of drama he could follow and that resembled much more the films Archie so like (and that William much preferred) than it did the grand theatrics of earlier years. He didn't have to manufacture his pride and his pleasure when he found Archie in the crowd and clapped him warmly on the shoulders. "Fine show, that," he grinned.

[usethecompany]

"Ah, but what's this? Has the world gone topsy-turvy?" Archie teased, smile wide enough to make the muscles of his face ache, though he could not have cared to desist. "William Bush enjoying a play? Will wonders never cease or the island ever cease altering us?"

[stoicsidekick]

William huffed, though he, too, couldn't stop smiling. Archie's joy was infectious, as always. "Well, if you did more of 'em in plain English, perhaps I'd be a mite more enthusiastic, don't you think?"

[headofaccounts]

Pete was, in a word, pleased (even if his pre-show anxiety had manifested in his being more petty than usual). He'd done well, or at least so he thought, and to say that he looked at least a little smug as he wandered the crowd afterward would be completely fair. The experience, as a whole, had been extremely enjoyable. Not as big a disaster as his first foray into writing had been, at least, and should the opportunity arise, auditioning for another show was well within his realm of possibilities.

[curiously_cora]

Coraline frowned, following the boy curiously. Coraline just didn't understand it. Here was a boy acting in the play and well, the grown ups were treating him like one of them. It wasn't fair! It was probably because he was a boy. Boys were stupid.

"How do you do it?" Coraline asked eventually staring at him seriously. "All of them treat you like one of them but you're like... twelve."

[headofaccounts]

Pete's face, in the space of maybe five seconds, went from smug to slightly appalled. It took him a few moments of staring directly at Coraline before he could come up with any sort of answer.

"I'm twenty-nine."

[curiously_cora]

"Are you sure?" Coraline asked seriously. He didn't look twenty nine. He looked twelve, he certainly looked young even if he was tall. "You're not pulling my leg, are you? Because you're so... you look younger than Percy and he's like old. Well, not twenty nine old but older than twelve."

[wishesandsmoke]

Eden, for her part, was almost smug as she made her way out from backstage. Granted, she still wished for the multiple opportunities offered by more traditional theater, a chance to do it again (and only partly to take back her little slips, though she'd played them off as best she could, called as little attention to them as possible), but she was all but walking on air nonetheless. It felt good to be back on stage again, to play a part, and if there was a touch of hesitation, the quiet knowledge that she didn't yet know what she'd do with herself now, it was easy to ignore for now.

[lonewolflives]

She was regretting not auditioning, a little. Part of the reason she hadn't had been difficulty finding a contemporary monologue she was happy with -- and what did that mean, anyway, contemporary for who? -- and part of had been that after a glance at the available parts nothing had seemed appropriate, so why bother?

She'd never heard the concept or the expression of putting oneself on tape, but the idea of it was nagging at her, a little. Besides, there was always space for unconventional casting.

Next time, she decided, because as much as she'd enjoyed the fresh experience of watching from the audience, as much as it had been good, it just wasn't the same if you weren't in the middle of it.

[dishabille_mal]

Maladicta had de-costumed and slipped back into her usual trousers and white workshirt ensemble, which was neither more feminine nor masculine, really, then what she'd been wearing on-stage.

"What did you think?"

[lonewolflives]

"It's kind of weird to see people on stage talking more like most people," she said, thoughtfully, putting her hands behind her and leaning backwards. "You were good. Nice accent."

She did her best take on that accent with the last two words, succeeding mostly in sounding like she had a mouthful of syrup.

[dishabille_mal]

Maladicta grinned a little.

"Perhaps ve vill vork on your ecksent, if you vish. It is second nature for me since I did not originally speak zis langvage, and though there is little reasonf or such a skill here, it could be fun, neverzeless."