Part 4: more pilot
Standing around a room. Everyone's spread about while Angel paces back and forth with a prop cigarette, checking over her lines. "What's the problem?" Drew asks, tilting his head back.
"Giving orders while sounding like i know what I'm talking about." Angel says, distracted. "And I have to be pissed off."
"So imagine you're telling us precisely what we did wrong. And channel your last dance captain." Drew grins.
"Oh, *him*. Right, you 'orrible lot..." Angel starts.
"No drill sergeants!" Isabella yells.
"...that's a drill sergeant?" ross asks.
"In a minute she's going to be really sarcastic, strangely humorous and call us girls." Mei says, stretching her arms along the back of the sofa. "Trust me, you can tell a drill sergeant from a mile away."
"What's with the accent?" Ross asks. "I've watched a lot of Brit tv, and I've never heard anyone talk like that."
"that's because you haven't watched the right tv. There is a drill sergeant accent, voice, and manner, and drill sergeants take pride in it." Mei says. "One of my mates' uncles was a drill sergeant, and he sounded exactly like that."
"We need to take them to War Horse." Drew says. "Got a good one in that."
Green Screen rehearsal time. "Oh christ, how do i do this?" Angel asks. "Is now a good time for a panic attack?"
Isabella pats her on the shoulder. "Ignore it and think of Chekov."
"How is that good advice?" angel asks.
"You're supposed to be staring out the windows at this bloody cherry tree orchard, it's not there, it's a metaphor, but it's still real." Isabella does jazz hands. "Imagination. Or possibly your old mime classes."
"Um. Is now a good time to point out that i never went to drama school?" Angel says. "I just took dance and singing classes and started getting jobs in my early teens."
"Hmm. May be a problem." Isabella says. "Okay, this is panto. it's all panto. You're the very pissed off Fairy Godmother."
"I've heard about panto." Simon says when they're taking a break. "Do I want to know or is it just that scary?"
"Just that scary." Gavin grins. "Don't worry your pretty head about it."
"I'm not pretty." Simon grumbles.
Everyone blinks. Ross creases up. "Dude, you are totally pretty. Apollo is pretty. they filtered for pretty during the casting calls."
Mei leans over and pats him on the head. "Just console yourself with the thought that if acting doesn't work out, you can model. Or become a trophy husband."
The sets are finally perfected. Isabella walks round the carrier set. "Oh. My. God. I get to fondle this? It's so... shiny."
Gemma grins. "Well, it's not quite the Trek set but we try."
"You have working screens? Really? How do you have working screens?" Isabella squeals, then pauses. "Um. is that one really playing Angry Birds?"
Gemma coughs "...Maybe? We figured it'd be a funny inside joke."
"You are evil and will cause the accountants and copyright wranglers massive, massive headaches." Isabella says.
Everyone walks onto the Carrier set for the first scene together, make-up finally having let them go. Something about choosing this scene first because it's just talking and they can see how all the costumes look against the set with the lighting to see what they need to tweak. Drew straightens his suit cuffs. "Ah, the new plan for world domination - an Authority worth sleeping with."
Ross grins. "Ah, but I was almost unbearably beautiful, Jack." He says, tucking his hands into his pockets.
Angel groans. "No Stormwatch quotage. No Stormwatch quotage allowed. None."
"It's the fact that you can recognise it that should worry you." Drew smirks.
"I had to read the stuff to get a handle on Jenny, you know that perfectly well." Angel groans.
"All right, Isabella, give us a twirl." Gavin says. Isabella spins slowly, the wire dreads flaring out. "You sure you can move properly with that headdress? It's not going to give you a crick in the neck?"
"Nah, they managed to make it pretty light and secure." She grins. "Though they say that if we get picked up for a series, they'll add LEDs and see if they can get them to do morse just to fuck with people."
"You and the set designers and prop people are beginning to have a very, very scary relationship." Angel says.
Mei is happily going "Happy. Happy. Wiiiiiiiings."
"...Do we need to sit on her?" Drew asks. "How is she even walking with those on?"
"Learn to stumble down Cardiff high street when drunk in stilettos and you can handle any weight ratio, love." Mei says. "Wiiiiings. Also a very good harness. And when they activate the remote control on the other lot they move. Actual moving, flapping wings. Wiiiings."
"At some point she's going to need to start acting." Angel says dryly.
"Let her have her moment." Simon says.
"Wiiiiiiings." Mei burbles happily.
"But in the meantime, let's try and get used to Angel being blond." Simon adds.
Angel cringes. "I hate you all, and you will wipe this entire concept from your brains."
"It's not bad." Gavin shrugs.
"I hate being blonde. Hatehatehate." She mutters.
"And it'll be recorded for all the world to see." Drew grins. "Cheer up, you've at least got the right skin tone so you don't look like you've been fried a la Lohan."
Simon reaches up and rubs across the back of his neck. "I'm just glad they didn't put me in a wig, too. I have no idea how you girls cope with hair on the back of your neck on a regular basis."
"Stubble on the back of the neck is horrible." Isabella says.
"Speak for yourself." Mei says, tweaking a bit of her pixie cut. "Some of us have the bone structure for it."
"See we've stopped going 'wiiiiings', then." Gavin says dryly.
"I may do it later." Mei says. "You'd do it too if you were given some."
Ross and Simon are sitting in a room, going over the scene where they talk about this being insane. Ross scrubs his hand through his hair. "Trying to do the 'been together five years' thing is always so fucking difficult."
Laura shrugs. "Well, you two did at least partly get cast on the basis of chemistry. You can do it. Just bitch at each other. Or watch Drew and Angel."
"I've played part of a couple before, but they were normally problem couples. Closed off and bitter. Or just starting out." Ross complains. "And they weren't ex-military either, that does whole other weird things to your body language."
Simon rolls his eyes. "Just come here, will you?" He says, grabbing Ross and pulling him over so he's nearly sitting on him, and holds him there like that.
Laura grins. "I like it. Okay, now you just have to imagine you do this every day. You completely ignore the other person putting a hand on you because it's normal. doesn't matter if it's military, that's how you act with other people."
"Okay, that works. So we're walking down the corridor, I'm bitching and you're saying shut the fuck up, dear, like you've heard this so many times you could do it in your sleep...." Ross muses, making notations on the script. "Yeah, that works."