[3rd floor] Saturday morning in the common room.

[rushmore-yankee.livejournal.com]

Max sits in the third floor common room, steaming cup of coffee (with saucer) at the ready, large French press and extra cupware nearby. He's got papers spread out on the coffee table in front of him. It looks like a script or something. He's chewing thoughfully on the end of a Sharpie, idly tweaking the safety pin that attaches the earpiece to his frame of his glasses, and staring at an elaborate Venn diagram with various Fandom High student names on it.

Max is working on a play. It'll be a grand, unification theory effort: possibly Rocky Horror, possibly Our Town, and — more than possibly — some kind of meta mash-up between the two. Maybe a little Shrew. He's going to have to think on it.

[ooc: I'm in and out all weekend, but I wanted to put something up. Open to anyone who happens to be in the area, or who is a SERIOUS, SERIOUS actor. (kidding.)]

Comments

[fates_jaye]

Jaye's eyebrows shoot up and her eyes go wide. "Well, I've never acted, doubt anyone wants to see me naked, and I probably shouldn't be trusted with any sort of firearms." She pauses. "And I guess it all depends on what's being done with the pork. What kind of play is this, anyway?"

(OOC: Hee! Jaye is joy, I swear to god.)

[rushmore-yankee.livejournal.com]

Max has no choice but to furrow his brown and shrug lightly, "Not sure yet. I'm still kicking around a few ideas. But, there's going to be a bat mitzvah luau, I think. Obvious poor planning. Possibly a musical, although... I'd rather it be noir-ish than Fiddler. I mean, Man of La Mancha, I could consider. But, yeah. Not sure yet."

He points at the cups and saucers, "Want coffee, Miss...?"

Come on. Fill in that blank.

[fates_jaye]

Not about to give her real name to anyone who had immediately asked her how she felt about nudity, Jaye answers, "Call me Esmerelda. Bat mitzvah luau, you say?"

[rushmore-yankee.livejournal.com]

"Possibly," Max says, mysteriously. "Esmerelda."

He points at the coffee again. "Do you want some, or no? French press. Dark roast. Guaranteed to stunt your growth and the growth of everyone around you."

[fates_jaye]

Jaye shrugs. "Sure. As long as I'm harming those around me. Fill 'er up."

[rushmore-yankee.livejournal.com]

Max does so. Chivalrously. Almost daintily. "Would you like sugar or creme?"

When he sets the coffee back down, he asks, "So, what's your curriculum track here? What do you want to be when you grow up?"

[fates_jaye]

"No, thanks. It dilutes the caffeine. Well, okay, that's a lie. But it's completely the truth in my head. Cirriculum track?" she says, thinking this over. "Whatever classes will make my parents' heads spin around like Linda Blair when they see my report card. I'm thinking I'm going to be a slacker when I grow up. Maybe a drifter? Hobo? You?"

[rushmore-yankee.livejournal.com]

"Oh, you know," Max shrugs. "Ne'er Do Well. Oprah, maybe. I haven't really weighed out my options. I was kind of hoping —at least until I came to Fandom— that I wanted to stay in high school forever. So, now I'm thinking: not that. Maybe I'll be famous for doing nothing, like Paris Hilton or Matthew McConughey."

[fates_jaye]

Jaye points a finger at him. "Hey now," she says warningly. "Matthew McConaghey got arrested for smoking pot and dancing around naked with bongos. You can't say he's not famous for doing something."

[rushmore-yankee.livejournal.com]

"It's true," Max admits. "He's obviously brilliant. A calculated career move, if I ever saw one."

He quirks his mouth to the side and looks at Jaye again. More carefully. "You write? What do you do for fun?"