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crack_van2007-12-21 11:04 am
isiscolo.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2007-12-21 11:04 am
Entry tags:
Note How She Quotes The Leaves by inlovewithnight (PG)
Fandom: SLINGS AND ARROWS
Pairing: Gen
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
inlovewithnight
Author Website: Exaggeration and Blank Verse
Why this must be read: A surprisingly complex and real Ellen, and a good ensemble feel.
This thoughtful story takes a look at Ellen and Oliver shortly before S1. Geoffrey is an invisible presence between the two of them as they warily pace around each other and their shared history. Like many stories in this fandom, it's set around the staging of one of Shakespeare's plays: in this case, Titus Andronicus, which serves as apt metaphor. Which makes this story sound terribly heavy, but just as Shakespeare's tragedies have their fools, this story has Richard and Claire - two characters who are (unfortunately, IMHO!) rarely seen in fic, and who are spot-on here.
"My boyfriend at the time played Demetrius." Ellen frowns, remembering. "And his nemesis played Chiron." The very last time Darren Nichols and Geoffrey Tennant would grace even a workshop stage at the same time.
"Your boyfriend had a nemesis?" the quiet one asks.
"Two, if you count gin." She shakes her head, trying to clear it of images of Darren and Geoffrey pursuing each other across the stage with the meter sticks that were standing in for rapiers, and the director watching for a solid ten minutes before realizing that they were not, in fact, riffing on the text but had forgotten it entirely and were trying to kill each other. Welts for days. "It basically failed. The whole workshop. It was a disaster."
"Wasn't that kind of...I don't know, weird?" Claire asks, twirling her hair around her finger. "Having your boyfriend pretend to rape you and chop your hands off and call you a whore and everything? I mean, how do you rehearse that, you know?"
Ellen blinks again, thinking about her cot in their crappy common apartment, and the living room of their crappy common apartment, and Darren's sleeping bag just once out of spite, and behind the desk in the workshop director's office. "There is a reason it's called acting, sweetie," she says, drawing herself up and making the words as frosty as she can.
Note How She Quotes The Leaves
Pairing: Gen
Author on LJ:
inlovewithnightAuthor Website: Exaggeration and Blank Verse
Why this must be read: A surprisingly complex and real Ellen, and a good ensemble feel.
This thoughtful story takes a look at Ellen and Oliver shortly before S1. Geoffrey is an invisible presence between the two of them as they warily pace around each other and their shared history. Like many stories in this fandom, it's set around the staging of one of Shakespeare's plays: in this case, Titus Andronicus, which serves as apt metaphor. Which makes this story sound terribly heavy, but just as Shakespeare's tragedies have their fools, this story has Richard and Claire - two characters who are (unfortunately, IMHO!) rarely seen in fic, and who are spot-on here.
"My boyfriend at the time played Demetrius." Ellen frowns, remembering. "And his nemesis played Chiron." The very last time Darren Nichols and Geoffrey Tennant would grace even a workshop stage at the same time.
"Your boyfriend had a nemesis?" the quiet one asks.
"Two, if you count gin." She shakes her head, trying to clear it of images of Darren and Geoffrey pursuing each other across the stage with the meter sticks that were standing in for rapiers, and the director watching for a solid ten minutes before realizing that they were not, in fact, riffing on the text but had forgotten it entirely and were trying to kill each other. Welts for days. "It basically failed. The whole workshop. It was a disaster."
"Wasn't that kind of...I don't know, weird?" Claire asks, twirling her hair around her finger. "Having your boyfriend pretend to rape you and chop your hands off and call you a whore and everything? I mean, how do you rehearse that, you know?"
Ellen blinks again, thinking about her cot in their crappy common apartment, and the living room of their crappy common apartment, and Darren's sleeping bag just once out of spite, and behind the desk in the workshop director's office. "There is a reason it's called acting, sweetie," she says, drawing herself up and making the words as frosty as she can.
Note How She Quotes The Leaves
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