[The Amphitheater] A Simple Plan (Acting Job Thread)

by **Jorin Ertihan** on August 19th, 2013, 5:30 am

Season of Summer, Day 76, 513 AV

Tenth Bell

Jorin breathed in through his nose, and out through his mouth. He'd just received word that a potential spot was opening up in the Riverfall Amphitheater. It was an enormous boon to him; he thought they didn't hire. Apparently they were willing to make an exception. So he needed to be ready, as Jorin was well aware, this would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He took another deep breath. In through nose, out through mouth. He could do this. He had to do this.

The plan was simple. Wow them with his best performance. It was such an easy plan, Jorin was sure it would succeed. After all he ... wait. Why was the light coming into his window at ...

"Petching petch shyke son of a ...!"

Jorin leaped out of bed. He'd overslept. He'd overslept on the most important day of his life. Well, OK, maybe not the most, he thought, before shaking his head roughly. Get it together! he screamed at himself in his head as he threw on his clothes. If you blow this thing you are never going to be able to look Rinya in the face again!

As he pulled on his shirt he had the hard luck to catch one of the seams and he heard the tell-tale riiiiiiip of fabric tearing.

"Are you kidding me?!" he raged, face beet-red with anger. "Really, Lhex? You're going to do this to me? That day at the Sanctuary wasn't enough?"

Jorin calmed himself a bit, taking several ragged breaths. Looking down forlornly at his torn shirt he put on the rest of his outfit carefully, hoping his cloak would hide the tear. Of course it didn't.

"Great, this is just great! No time to go to the tailor's or to buy a new outfit. Why'd I have to oversleep?" Jorin muttered as he marched out the door, barely registering the Akalak at the front desk giving him a friendly wave goodbye.

Jorin rushed from Atri's Place in a rush, not noticing as he left that he'd forgotten his notes in his room. As he rushed out the Riverfall gate, he suddenly realized with a start that they were not in his pack.

"Oh no!" he moaned, causing a few passerby to glance at him strangely. This was a disaster. Those were the notes he needed for his audition; without them Jorin knew he'd forget the lines! Did he go back? Did he dare go back? Jorin squinted at the sun. No, if he went back now he'd miss his audition for sure. No choice but to press forward. Jorin shut his eyes, trying to remember the words. What were the lines? He had to make sure he...

"Look out!" the cry came too late, as Jorin found himself upturned and on his back, a barrel full of grape juice all over his shirt and pants. The angry wine merchant was glaring at him.

"That was twenty gold Miza worth of grape juice!" he screeched. Jorin shook his head and sighed, removing twenty gold Miza from his pocket. "This is just ... here take it." Jorin was fairly certain the grape juice was not worth nearly that much, but he was in a rush and couldn't afford to argue.

Jorin looked down the path to the Amphitheater, then back at his own state. Dusty, covered in sticky grape juice, sleeve torn, missing his notes. Jorin gave a rueful, barking laugh. Maybe he should do a comedy skit, he thought, as he trudged his way to the Amphitheater.

by **Jorin Ertihan** on August 24th, 2013, 6:33 pm

Season of Summer, Day 76, 513 AV

Thirteenth Bell

"Next!" called out the Amphitheater stage director, who was waving in applicants one by one. Jorin twisted his hands nervously. He'd done his best to clean himself up after the grape juice debacle, but a slight tinge of purple remained, not to mention the rather obvious tear in his shirt. He had come up with a hundred different excuses in his mind for why he was in the state he was in, each one more unbelievable than the last. He'd been attacked by wild dogs! No, that wouldn't work, he'd have been eaten. He'd been accosted by hooligans! That didn't work either, the Akalak run a tight city.

As he climbed the steps to the stage, Jorin could feel his throat tightening and his chest constricting. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and sweat poured down his brow and back. He'd been here before. Given an introduction, but the only audience was Rinya and the birds. Where was his grace? Why was he able to do it in front of her, but not in front of others? Jorin tried to tell his heart to calm down but it wouldn't, beating fitfully in his chest. The rush of blood across his ears almost deafened him and he barely heard the go-ahead for his introduction.

"Ah ... I thank you for you consideration today," Jorin began, cursing himself. His very first sentence and he'd already begun stammering. This was not a good day. Not a good day at all. Clearing his throat, he summoned all his wherewithal and strode as confidently as he could to the center, his green eyes sweeping the empty terraces as though they were filled with people.

"It is, perhaps, presumptuous of me, mere poet and historian that I be," he began, arms outstretched to the heavens, "to stand here before the light of destiny, and relate to you all, this humble story." Jorin's arms dropped, his left now sweeping his cape as he indicated the entirety of the stage.

"A thousand years an empire to create, millions of men march to war, yet even that did not the bloodthirsty Galifer sate, nor did it still the grudge he bore." Jorin punctuated each emphasized word with a raised hand, as though to summon the kingdom of which he spoke, and the soldiers and monarchs to populate them.

"Swords were drawn, and steel was flashed! Here in Suva, hopes were dashed." Jorin's arm mimicked the action of a sword being drawn, as his gaze swept across the Amphitheater.

"Can this poor history cover such an event, whose mighty thunders Ivak sent, can pithy words possibly create, here on this stage, happenings so great?" Jorin's head bowed in apology. "Can thoughts become horses, and prance on stage, can imagination break this story free of its cage?" Jorin's head shook sadly.

"I beg your humblest pardon!" he cried, "For this chronicle is but a shadow's sigh. I beg you mercy upon this humble plot, and have imaginings create what words cannot." Jorin paused, his face serious as he begged the audience to use their imagination to compensate for the stage's lack.

"Create steel from wood, and empires from air, princes so bold, and maidens so fair, worlds in your mind that will soon take form, and this humble stage into Suva transform." Jorin explained, as he paced.

"Five hundred on years these events took place, as fires and wars ravaged Mizahar's face. And here we ask for but one Bell's grace, and ask you rest your eyes upon this space."

Jorin bowed at the last sentence, sweeping his cape across his chest. As the prologue to one of the greatest plays ever written crossed his lips he had gradually lost his nervousness, and by the end, the force of his voice would reach the back terraces of the Amphitheater. Jorin panted slightly, catching his breath after the monologue, as a silence fell upon the Amphitheater. He had no idea what to expect. What would they say? That he did well? That he did terribly?

The stage director merely looked at him. Took in his appearance, face utterly impassive. He picked up his quill, made a note upon his paper, and called out, "Next!"

Jorin had been dismissed.

by **Jorin Ertihan** on August 24th, 2013, 7:04 pm

Season of Summer, Day 76, 513 AV

Fifteenth Bell

"Jorin Ertihan!"

Jorin heard his name being called, and he rose from his seated position outside the Amphitheater. He could have watched the other auditions in the Terraces but, honestly, he didn't really want to. They were all immaculately dressed, without a spot on their white shirts, and they clearly were much better actors than he. Their monologues were undoubtedly superior, delivered with utter confidence and artistic swagger. Jorin sighed as he stepped up on stage, the tight, yellow ball of the midday sun having given way and been replaced with the afternoon sun: huge, orange, and shining in his face. Jorin squinted, trying to see the stage director despite the glare.

"I'm really quite surprised you dared show your face here," he began, and Jorin could barely suppress a wince. "You show up nearly late, you come on stage with a torn sleeve and what appears to be ... is that grape juice on your shirt? You did not bring any notes so clearly you were unprepared, you insult us by stammering on your very first sentence of introduction, and to top it all off you have the temerity to march here and deliver a monologue from one of the greatest plays ever written!" The stage manager's voice rose with every sentence, until he was practically roaring the final one at Jorin. Jorin merely stood stock-still, but sweat had already begun pouring down his back, and he felt sick to his stomach. He'd have to tell Rinya somehow. He had his chance, and he blew it.

"Yes sir," was all he could manage, his throat dry.

There was a pause of about a chime. To Jorin, it felt like a Bell.

"However, you did not let any of these things stop you from delivering your monologue," the stage director continued, in a lower volume. "You showed passion and conviction. Nor did you allow the state of your clothes distract you from the delivery of your address. Acting is as much about being the character as it is about portraying it. Do you think you can do that, Jorin Ertihan?"

Jorin blinked stupidly. Was he asking what he thought he was asking? "... yes?" he asked tentatively. The stage director harrumphed.

"Do not answer my question with another question," he admonished. "Can you or can you not do this?"

Jorin gulped. "I can," he replied, with much more confidence than he felt. The stage director made another mark upon his paper.

"Be here, tomorrow morning at eighth bell. Do not be late. The play is in one season and you have that long to prepare. You will receive instructions when you arrive."

With that, the stage master gave Jorin a hard look, and then stood, carefully straightening his papers and putting them in a small satchel. Without another word, he walked off, leaving Jorin alone upon the stage.

He'd gotten the job. He was now an actor of the Amphitheater. Jorin's face broke into an enormous grin. He'd done it.

by **Magpie** on September 22nd, 2013, 10:04 pm

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Jorin :

Notes :

If you have any questions or concerns about what was awarded, please don't hesitate to PM me.
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Solo [The Amphitheater] A Simple Plan (Acting Job Thread)