Post by Deleted on Aug 4, 2015 15:45:26 GMT -8
By now, Marco had become rather used to the hustle and bustle of life behind the stage. And if it wasn’t for need for silence during the production, the Seborgan would have undoubtedly had his ears ringing with the clatter of props, the stomping and running of feet, and shouting of his other crewmates. Oftentimes when he was on stage, he nearly forgot about what all went on in the background. He (and so many actors in the limelight) sometimes overlooked the stage workers and their efforts, but the second they were forced to travel in between scenes, they were swiftly reminded that without them, the plays would not be nearly as successful.
After delivering a short dialogue and exiting (stage left) Marcello shifted to the side, pressing his back against a wall to avoid getting smacked by a large plywood tree being hoisted his way. Eyeing the others as they passed, he offered a small, appreciative smile and paused, watching them set up quickly and silently as the curtains fell for just a few minutes.
Taking his costume hat off (it was akin to renaissance-looking hat with a long, green plume sticking out of it), he wiped a bit of sweat from his brow (and a bit of makeup) before retreating further backstage into a more chaotic sector of the theatre. It would be their luck that the revenue had been double booked with a band that went on right after theirs… and it was a bit more irritating that the two acts were having to compete and share the dressing rooms. Thankfully, however, Marcello’s part in the play was complete and he’d be fine with sacrificing his makeup room as soon as he got out of costume.
Offering a hasty apology, as he bumped into a darker haired girl from the band (yet again), he watched her for a moment. She didn't look like one of the crew so she had to be from part of the band--as if her outfit and the like wasn't a give-away. Still, she was pretty cute darn cute...even with that punkish look about her with all the piercings and tattoos... Regardless, he'd have time later if he wanted to speak with her (hopefully), but first he needed to disrobe and get cleaned up. “They’ll probably be yelling for me soon anyway.” Taking up a damp washcloth and makeup remover, he began to wipe his face off, scrubbing a little harder than usual as he issues a soft grumbly groan.
No sooner had he cleaned half of his face off did he hear one of the stage directors hush-shouting his name as the orchestra swelled out front and the curtains were lifted. Blinking, he poked his head out of the doorway and waved the cloth, waiting expectantly. “I’mm-a here.”
As expected, they’d need his help moving stuff, but Marcello was much too tired to complain or argue, not to mention it was one of his jobs anyway when he wasn’t playing a part. Still, he’d rather relax. With a small sigh, he wiped the rest of the makeup off his face and slowly moved out of his room toward where they were keeping a majority of the props. Unfortunately, he hadn't been afforded the chance to actually change, just to get the makeup off. As such, he was still dressed up like some man that had been plucked right out of the Renaissance and dropped backstage. For perhaps the third time, he ran into the same girl, knocking his arm against hers, but hopefully not causing her to drop anything or injure herself in some other way.
“Sorry about-a that, bella… It’s-a pretty crazy back here y’know?” he offered an apologetic smile and a brief chuckle. “But-a I guess something keeps wanting us to bump into each other. I’mma Marco.” A warmer smile overtook his features as he procrastinated; opting instead to speak with this girl he kept bumping into. She didn’t seem too familiar, but something about her made the Seborgan think they had met before…or he had at least seen her elsewhere. A brief glance around settled his nerves, since everyone else seemed preoccupied with their own tasks and none had dared to approach him again. “Let-a me make this up to you later, sci? I-a don’t think I could live with-a someone like you being irritated with-a me for-a constantly bumping into them backstage.”
After delivering a short dialogue and exiting (stage left) Marcello shifted to the side, pressing his back against a wall to avoid getting smacked by a large plywood tree being hoisted his way. Eyeing the others as they passed, he offered a small, appreciative smile and paused, watching them set up quickly and silently as the curtains fell for just a few minutes.
Taking his costume hat off (it was akin to renaissance-looking hat with a long, green plume sticking out of it), he wiped a bit of sweat from his brow (and a bit of makeup) before retreating further backstage into a more chaotic sector of the theatre. It would be their luck that the revenue had been double booked with a band that went on right after theirs… and it was a bit more irritating that the two acts were having to compete and share the dressing rooms. Thankfully, however, Marcello’s part in the play was complete and he’d be fine with sacrificing his makeup room as soon as he got out of costume.
Offering a hasty apology, as he bumped into a darker haired girl from the band (yet again), he watched her for a moment. She didn't look like one of the crew so she had to be from part of the band--as if her outfit and the like wasn't a give-away. Still, she was pretty cute darn cute...even with that punkish look about her with all the piercings and tattoos... Regardless, he'd have time later if he wanted to speak with her (hopefully), but first he needed to disrobe and get cleaned up. “They’ll probably be yelling for me soon anyway.” Taking up a damp washcloth and makeup remover, he began to wipe his face off, scrubbing a little harder than usual as he issues a soft grumbly groan.
No sooner had he cleaned half of his face off did he hear one of the stage directors hush-shouting his name as the orchestra swelled out front and the curtains were lifted. Blinking, he poked his head out of the doorway and waved the cloth, waiting expectantly. “I’mm-a here.”
As expected, they’d need his help moving stuff, but Marcello was much too tired to complain or argue, not to mention it was one of his jobs anyway when he wasn’t playing a part. Still, he’d rather relax. With a small sigh, he wiped the rest of the makeup off his face and slowly moved out of his room toward where they were keeping a majority of the props. Unfortunately, he hadn't been afforded the chance to actually change, just to get the makeup off. As such, he was still dressed up like some man that had been plucked right out of the Renaissance and dropped backstage. For perhaps the third time, he ran into the same girl, knocking his arm against hers, but hopefully not causing her to drop anything or injure herself in some other way.
“Sorry about-a that, bella… It’s-a pretty crazy back here y’know?” he offered an apologetic smile and a brief chuckle. “But-a I guess something keeps wanting us to bump into each other. I’mma Marco.” A warmer smile overtook his features as he procrastinated; opting instead to speak with this girl he kept bumping into. She didn’t seem too familiar, but something about her made the Seborgan think they had met before…or he had at least seen her elsewhere. A brief glance around settled his nerves, since everyone else seemed preoccupied with their own tasks and none had dared to approach him again. “Let-a me make this up to you later, sci? I-a don’t think I could live with-a someone like you being irritated with-a me for-a constantly bumping into them backstage.”
OOC:
Lucille Nibourette