InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "STOP POKING ME!"

Geoffrey Tennant (unhingedrapier) wrote in utr_logs,
@ 2009-11-07 00:06:00

Entry tags:

ellen fanshaw, geoffrey tennant

A stage where every man must play a part
WHO: Geoffrey Tennant and Ellen Fanshaw
WHAT: Theatre Hunt!
WHERE: Toronto, ON
WHEN: This morning
WARNINGS: Language.

The fingers of Old Man Winter are beginning to encroach upon Canada, which in layman's-- or rather, Ellen's-- terms, means that it's fucking freezing as they get out of the estate agent's car and approach the old building on Geoffrey's shortlist to become their new theatre.

This particular building has certainly seen better days. Its detailed brick frontage and architecture is distinctly Edwardian in origin; several plywood-boarded windows adding to the rundown effect. It's had moderate upgrades since then, though the many broken lightbulbs on the dilapidated 60's-era signage are testament to how few and far between those upgrades have been.

Geoffrey stands for a moment gazing up appreciatively at its facade, his breath clouding in the air. He doesn't see ruin; he sees potential.

And he's grinning like a kid who's just found the candy store. This is where Théâtre sans Argent will find its feet again.

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	dame_ellen 2009-11-07 05:33 am UTC (link)
	Ellen is shivering, hunching her shoulders beneath her coat. "Can we get inside the deathtrap quickly? Before I freeze my tits off?" She stamps her feet. (Reply to this) (Thread)

unhingedrapier
2009-11-07 05:38 am UTC (link)

The estate agent seems a little overeager; perhaps it's because the property has been on the market for, well, ever. Perhaps it's the cold; either way, he returns after delving into his car's trunk and hands off flashlights to Geoffrey.

"Now, ah, there's no electricity, obviously, and there was a small fire in the rear section a few years ago set by squatters, and I'm told the fire department recommended this place be condemned due to some structural issues--"

Geoffrey waves him off dismissively. "Oh, whatever." He turns and thrusts one of the flashlights at Ellen with a broad smile. "Here."

And off he goes, without waiting to see if she's following.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	dame_ellen 2009-11-07 05:43 am UTC (link)
	"Geoff!" Ellen has to trot to keep up, fumbling as she tries to work the flashlight, cursing as she pulls off one of her gloves. "Dammit, Geoffrey--" Those long legs of his make it difficult for her to keep pace, and she's panting for breath when she makes it to his side. "God, what's that smell?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	unhingedrapier 2009-11-07 05:49 am UTC (link)
	"Oh, urine, probably," he says frankly, without pause. He reaches out a hand to the estate agent, wiggling his fingers urgently for the keys to the large padlock that just about keeps the old wooden doors closed. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

dame_ellen
2009-11-07 05:53 am UTC (link)

"Oh, fantastic. When did 'pissoir' become a quality you were looking for in a theatre?" Ellen juggles the flashlight and her spare glove, trying to slip it back on before she catches frostbite. She's certain she's at risk for frostbite. And possibly lung poisoning. Maybe rabies, depending on what's waiting for them inside. Bats. Rats. Cockroaches.

The estate agent hands over the keys. "Do we actually have to go in?" Ellen complains. "I can hate it just fine from out here."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	unhingedrapier 2009-11-07 05:56 am UTC (link)
	Geoffrey seems completely unbothered by the cold, as though he's too distracted to be cold, perhaps. He pauses once he's released the lock on the door and turns his tousled head to look at her. "What, you don't want to see your new dressing room?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	dame_ellen 2009-11-07 05:58 am UTC (link)
	"My new dressing room? Geoffrey, you can't decide you like this place already. You haven't even stepped into whatever shit is waiting for us past the threshold!" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	unhingedrapier 2009-11-07 05:59 am UTC (link)
	Geoffrey straightens to his full height suddenly, as if poked, and his expression turns distinctly indigant. "Why not?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	dame_ellen 2009-11-07 06:01 am UTC (link)
	"You heard the man!" Ellen jabs her flashlight towards the estate agent. "It's got fire damage, no electricity, and probably shitty acoustics to boot!" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	unhingedrapier 2009-11-07 06:07 am UTC (link)
	He seems struck by a thought. "Well, it's been a while since I staged a performance by candlelight..." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	dame_ellen 2009-11-07 06:09 am UTC (link)
	"Great. We'll add to the smoke damage." Ellen rubs her eyebrow. "Now I want a cigarette...." She's been trying to quit, and the effort has made her waspish. "They ruin the voice and stain the teeth. They ruin the voice and stain the teeth," she mutters. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

unhingedrapier
2009-11-07 06:14 am UTC (link)

Geoffrey ignores her in favour of pulling open the rotting door before reaching into his long coat pocket where he temporarily stashed his flashlight. "Come on, then!" he says as he turns it on and sallies forth into the darkness within. It's not clear if he's being ridiculously perky just to add to her annoyance factor, or if he's genuinely excited. It's probably both.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

dame_ellen
2009-11-07 06:18 am UTC (link)

Despite Ellen's carping, she follows him willingly enough, falling silent as they move into the lobby, letting the beam from her flashlight play over the walls. She notes a small box office to the right as they enter, and a set of double doors leading to ... leading to....

It's been a long time. The wings may have black mold. The stage may have termites. But it's still a theatre. The one place she always feels alive.

	dame_ellen 2009-11-07 07:33 am UTC (link)
	Ellen moves closer to Geoffrey, glancing around for any vermin that might be lurking between the seats. In a low voice, she says, "Make 'em pay for the exterminator. Put it in the contract or whatever. They have to pay to kill the goddamned fucking roaches and whatever else is swarming around here." (Reply to this) (Thread)

	unhingedrapier 2009-11-07 07:37 am UTC (link)
	Geoffrey flaps a dismissive hand at her. "Oh, don't be silly. Cockroaches make great pets. I named all of mine. Harold, Arthur, Lancelot, Falstaff, Oliver." Pause. "Well, they weren't all great," he amends. "Oliver had a tragic run-in with the sole of my shoe when he tried to crawl into my ear one night." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)