tntandgasoline: (Ta-daaaa)
[Welcome to the auditorium of Triple-D High! It looks something like this, only I've decided that the stadium seating isn't as steep and the chairs aren't that uncomfortable. Make of it what you will.

Mr. Kerr is standing at the center of the stage, yelling at a few freshmen who are clearly afraid for their lives. They're scrambling to set up mock-props for Kerr's "grand image" of what is going to go where for the set designs.

The doors themselves are open at either aisle, both adorned with several copies of Kerr's list of very important people. Anyone is welcome to try out, of course, but he's keeping an eye out for very specific people. Make sure you make your presence known when you show up, or else... well, who knows what might happen?]

((OOC: Here's the open theater detention/audtions log. Those who actually want to try out (God help you) will be either given lines or handwaved, depending on your preference. Those who are in detention/are forced to attend will be pretty much just harassed, yelled at, ordered around and probably fitted for dresses and such. Especially if you're a guy. Go here to find out if you were mandatory, or just act like you were forced and I'll follow along.

Feel free to just come in to talk to Kerr about anything ~acting~ related, even if it's off topic. Also, you guys can intermingle all you want since I'm not going to be tagging until late morning Pacific time. Mmmm, sleep.))
tntandgasoline: (zHeath - B&W little smile)
[The Joker is walking across what looks to be an abandoned wheat field, long-ago harvested and never replenished, with only one tractor path to follow. There is a log cabin far in the distance, though it only takes a few seconds for him to reach it. An old man is sitting on the porch swing, and as the Joker takes the steps one at a time - it seems to take forever to get up the three front steps - the man stands and pulls open the battered screen door.

The cabin seems to age and morph from a log cabin into an old house, but the old man is still holding open the door. His face is impossible to make out, as though from a blurry photograph, and as the Joker ignores him and steps across the threshold of the door, the man seems to turn to dust, leaving nothing but his skeleton before disintegrating entirely.

The Joker doesn't seem to notice; equally odd, he doesn't seem to notice that his appearance has turned to that of a normal, blond-haired man without his trademark scars, paint or outfit. He walks through the old-looking house, glancing into a mirror on his way to a room in the back. He seems to know exactly where he's going.

The back room is painted in a soft yellow; it's a bedroom with an old four-poster bed and a large beige comforter. Wrapped up in the comforter is a woman with blond hair and a soft face - she's just as blurry as the old man, but somehow it's easier to make out her features. She can't be older than 24, and she sits up on the bed and the Joker approaches, climbing into the bed like he's always been there.

The woman rolls over and lies on top of him, smiling so serenely, as though nothing were wrong. And maybe her hair is looking distinctly darker in some parts, or maybe she seems to have something wrong with her face, though it's impossible to really tell what, but it doesn't seem like the Joker minds in any way.

She smiles and opens her mouth; she looks like she's saying something but all that comes out is a bat, stretching its wings. The Joker picks it up and it squeaks, flapping around and shrieking at him. He just laughs, soundlessly - the whole thing is soundless, except for that damned bat - and lets it go; he can find it again whenever he wants.

He looks back to the woman, who's now holding a knife to his cheek, saying something with that serene smile still, and it's so peaceful that the Joker doesn't even care when she puts the knife through the soft tissue of his cheek; he laughs as she drags it down.

And everything is just so very, very serene and that's where the dream ends.]

((That's riiiight, all that work to stay up and he ends up passing out just in time to have a really weird dream. It's up to you guys to decide if it means anything or not - but it is not a direct memory.

Also it's NOT an interactive dream, so no worries about dealing with non-deformed Joker <3))


Jun. 15th, 2009 02:43 pm
tntandgasoline: (Slumped in a cell)
Tick, tock. Just waiting and it is so. Boring. If I have to sit here any longer I will go crazy, at least Arkham wasn't so dull. There was the rec room and you could color on the walls but not here.

What else is there to talk about? Tick, tock, tick-tock. Listen to the big clock, look at its hands move 'round.

Running out of ticks on the clock. Not getting any younger.

Now how does that make you feel?


tntandgasoline: (Default)

April 2010

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