Scene from The Muses' Green Room
Mar. 3rd, 2012 06:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdThe Green Room is a disconsolate place at the moment. It looks like a campaign headquarters at three A.M., after the party in question has lost.
The Nick muse sits on the floor, his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. He seems to be stuck in a bad flashback. Pelton sits in the same position, his back pressed to Nick's. It's entirely possible they are the only thing holding each other up.
Zara picks dispiritedly through the denuded remains of a buffet table, passing over the last slice of ham, the last three olives, and a sad looking cupcake.
Paul is curled protectively around Dan, who whimpers in his sleep. They are as far as they can get from where David sits in a shabby leather wingback chair, with a book open. Anyone watching will notice our resident genius has not actually turned a page in the last ten minutes.
Chuck is dozing on the battered sofa, his new boots propped on one arm of it. Adrien wanders from corner to corner, seeking something he can't define. Ursula and Alice are deep in conversation, but nobody wants to know what the gingers are plotting.
Paintings of their much-missed lovers adorn the walls: the benJedi twins, Corban, Tanis, T. Chris (in both forms), B, Nathan...all of them, shifting between outfits and universes at the whim of the viewer.
Footsteps in the hall outside draw every muses' eyes to the door.
At which point we re-enact the bit at 16:35
"You're a pack of lazy sods. I can't help that your lovers have gone to Aruba. But if you just pretend they're here, maybe we can get them to take up residence in my head long enough to finish something." They grumble, stirring a little. "Yes, I've been sick. Now, I'm okay. Let's write!"
The Nick muse sits on the floor, his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. He seems to be stuck in a bad flashback. Pelton sits in the same position, his back pressed to Nick's. It's entirely possible they are the only thing holding each other up.
Zara picks dispiritedly through the denuded remains of a buffet table, passing over the last slice of ham, the last three olives, and a sad looking cupcake.
Paul is curled protectively around Dan, who whimpers in his sleep. They are as far as they can get from where David sits in a shabby leather wingback chair, with a book open. Anyone watching will notice our resident genius has not actually turned a page in the last ten minutes.
Chuck is dozing on the battered sofa, his new boots propped on one arm of it. Adrien wanders from corner to corner, seeking something he can't define. Ursula and Alice are deep in conversation, but nobody wants to know what the gingers are plotting.
Paintings of their much-missed lovers adorn the walls: the benJedi twins, Corban, Tanis, T. Chris (in both forms), B, Nathan...all of them, shifting between outfits and universes at the whim of the viewer.
Footsteps in the hall outside draw every muses' eyes to the door.
At which point we re-enact the bit at 16:35
"You're a pack of lazy sods. I can't help that your lovers have gone to Aruba. But if you just pretend they're here, maybe we can get them to take up residence in my head long enough to finish something." They grumble, stirring a little. "Yes, I've been sick. Now, I'm okay. Let's write!"
