Topic: Break A Leg

Victoria Granger

Date: 2014-10-18 09:22 EST
It was Shakespeare at the Shanachie, and Jon was in his glory. Everyone who knew him well knew how much he adored Shakespeare, how he lived to recite those lines he knew and loved so well. There really was nothing like Shakespeare, as far as Jon was concerned, and though he was best known on the big screen for his role as Christian Grey, he was at heart a thespian, with a deep love and respect for the Bard's work. He had played the part of Petruchio numerous times in his life, and it was a part he knew well.

While it was all bread and butter to Jon, this was Carina's first professional role, and for the first few nights, the nerves had shown through bright and clear. But working with such a seasoned performer, and knowing she wasn't the only one who hadn't done this professionally before, had helped. By the time the last few performances came around, she was relaxed on stage, and her Katharina was proving to be slightly more sassy and less tameable than people might have expected. Little bits and pieces had crept into the performance over the last week, and now she thought nothing of being spanked on stage by a Petruchio who definitely had his hands full.

It was the scene that everyone in the audience seemed to be waiting for, and the last few nights' performances had earned the cast a standing ovation with plenty of Bravos for each cast member, including Carina. Though Jon might be a seasoned performer, he was more than willing to share the acclaim and accolades with the entire cast. After all, this wasn't a one-man play, and he was gracious with both newcomers and veteran actors alike. They were just about to go back on stage after a short break, the sounds of the audience restlessly awaiting the second half heard from the other side of the curtain.

It was one of those rare nights when Mataya wasn't around to chivvy on the performers. Now that they had gotten into the swing of things, she'd finally taken a night off, leaving the stage manager in charge properly for once. As the curtain rose on the second half, Carina bit down hard on her inner lip, fidgeting as the nerves came back into play. She glanced at Jon, envying his calm.

Jon was astute enough to recognize Carina's tension, confident her fit of nerves would calm as they fell back into their parts and finished off the second half of the play. "Remember to breathe, Carina. You're doing great!" he praised, just as he praised each and every member of the cast, like any veteran of the theater should. He often seemed older and more worldly than his nearly twenty-nine years, but then, he had been doing this for as long as he could remember. A couple of younger actors passed them on their way out on stage to get the second half started and Jon called to wish them both good luck.

She threw him a grateful smile, always afflicted with awful stage fright in the moments before they went on. She loved this act, filled as it was with the "taming" of Katharina and Petruchio winning his bet with her obedient speech about women and wives, however furiously it was delivered. It didn't stop her from being a nervous wreck before they went on, though. "I know," she murmured back to Jon, swallowing hard. "I'm just not used to all this."

"I'd like to tell you it gets easier," Jon started, one ear perked for their cue. It would be a few minutes before the banter of the other two on stage was finished, and the audience was completely settled into their seats and ready for the rest. "I'm a ball of nerves every night!" he said with a chuckle. Though he looked perfectly at ease, even that was an act, especially on opening night. Thankfully, by this stage of the game, all the kinks had been worked out, everyone knew their part, and the play was flowing like water.

"I'm going to guess that it doesn't, then." She giggled quietly, one hand over her mouth, away from the mic taped to her cheek, to muffle the sound. Breathing out in one deep breath, she calmed herself down, wiping the smile off her face as their cue approached. "Okay ....calm."

Jon dropped his voice to a whisper so that his voice wouldn't carry out onto the stage, smiling a little at her obvious nervousness, which thankfully didn't make itself known on stage. He had done all he could to help her through her first public performance, the consummate professional, as well as a gentleman. Their run was almost over, and if the nightly applause was anything to go by, they were a hit, and she deserved at least half the credit. "It's almost our cue," he warned quietly. "You ready?"

She nodded worriedly, smoothing her hands quickly over the beautiful renaissance gown that was serving as Katharina's wedding dress. "As I will ever be," she murmured, gesturing to the stage. "After you, husband mine."

He chuckled quietly at her remark, whispering back the age-old phrase thespians - especially those originating on Earth - used everywhere to wish each other luck. "Break a leg!" he said with a grin, as he started up the stairs to the stage. His voice could be heard from just beyond the curtain, signaling Petruchio and Katharina's imminent arrival. "Where be these knaves" What, no man at door, to hold my stirrup nor to take my horse! Ooof!" The ooof was unintentional as suddenly Katharina's dress somehow got tangled up in Jon's feet and down he went with a load thud.

The audience, sure that this was all a part of the comedy, roared with laughter as Petruchio lurched into view, bringing his reluctant bride with him. To be honest, Carina didn't have much a of a choice - it was move quickly, or be stripped as the gown made an ominous ripping sound. The two men on stage rushed to help Jon stand, as much out of concern for him as in character as his man-servants.

As the old saying goes, the show must go on, and Jon had never been one to quit in the middle of a performance, no matter how bad he was feeling, but as soon as the other two actors got him to his feet, it became quickly apparent that something was very wrong. "Where is..." Jon started, struggling with his line as he tried to find his feet. His leg gave out again, unwilling to hold his weight, and he sagged against the other two actors, biting back a cry of pain. "I can't," he whispered. "I think it's broken."

There was a moment of panic as the other actors on the stage exchanged looks, none of them knowing quite what to do. Then Carina rallied. "Hie you hence, husband, to bed," she declared, causing a minor heart-attack in the prompting booth as she abandoned the script to make it up as she went long. "You men, go with him. See that he rests easy." She gestured imperiously at the two men holding Jon up, and a moment later, they got the message, moving to ease the struggling actor off the stage and out of the wings as quiet panic spread through the crew. Carina was left standing on stage, quite alone, and utterly at a loss, until the stage manager lurched into view, to announce to the audience that there had been an accident, and the play would recommence very shortly. In the meantime, the bar had been reopened for their convenience.

Victoria Granger

Date: 2014-10-18 09:23 EST
Jon would have offered a grateful glance at Carina if he wasn't in so much pain. He was gritting his teeth as the two actors helped him off stage, his face white and strained, despite the stage makeup. He was relieved his wife wasn't there to witness his foolishness, though he was equally regretting she wasn't there to take charge, or even Mataya. "Sorry, Carina," he said, somehow managing to mutter an apology, despite the pain, trying hard to bear it without making a sound.

As soon as Jon was out of sight of the audience, the stage hands were there to help support him, easing him off the ground entirely as they headed for his dressing room. The assistant stage manager was dispatched to call Vicki and tell her what had happened, as well as summoning Rhy'Din's equivalent of an ambulance. Carina moved along worriedly behind the painful little process, guilt all over her face. "Gods, Jon, don't apologize," she told him. "It was my skirt you tripped over."

Jon said nothing, too busy clenching his jaw to prevent himself from groaning in pain as the other two actors helped him to his dressing room. It wasn't the first time he'd ever been in pain, but it was the first time he'd ever broken a leg, at least, that he could recall. He remained quiet until they reached his dressing room and attempted to settle him in a chair. The small movement jostled his leg just enough to send a wave of agony straight up his leg and he lost control, crying out in pain and gasping for breath. In the meantime, there was confusion backstage as word spread that their lead actor - the "Great Jonathan Granger" - had had an accident, and there was a flurry of activity as they tried to locate his understudy.

At least someone had taken charge, even if it was one of the make-up ladies. She shooed everyone out of the dressing room, producing a first aid kit from somewhere. "The medics will be here soon," she assured Jon. "We can call a healer once we know what?s going on in there, but I'm going to have to cut your tights off, love."

Jon nodded his head at the woman, his face pale and drawn, lips pressed tightly together. "Someone....call my wife, please," he muttered, not realizing that had already been taken care of. "Carina..." he called after the poor girl, worried she was taking this worse than he was.

"Already happening, love, don't you worry," the designated first-aider assured him, already cutting the hose off his leg to examine what she could of the injury. At least it wasn't a compound fracture - she didn't have to deal with any blood or sticking out bits of bone.

A moment after Jon called for his co-star, Carina came into view in the hallway beyond the open door, her pretty face pale and twisted with guilt and worry. To be honest, she looked like she was about to cry. "Jon, I'm so sorry," she rushed to apologize. "I didn't realize I was in your way, this is all my fault."

He remained as perfectly still as he could while the woman cut the tights away from his leg and examined the injury. He didn't want to look at it, afraid what he'd find there, though he thought the fact that there was no blood and no bones protruding from his skin was a good sign. "I shouldn't have been in such a hurry to wish you good luck," he said, with a strained smile. Who the hell had thought up such a stupid idiom as break a leg anyway' "It wasn't your fault. I was just clumsy." There was some confusion just outside his door, as someone was trying to push their way through to either Jon or Carina.

"It's my costume, I'm responsible for it, and if I'd just been paying attention, it wouldn't have been on the steps for you to trip over in the first place!" Carina wailed quietly, in a faint panic as she realized she still had the second act to perform, opposite someone she hadn't shared a stage with at all yet.

"Carina!" a familiar voice called from the hall, trying to get her attention, and interrupting her conversation with her leading man.

"Don't be ridiculous," Jon said, through clenched teeth. "It was an accident."

"It's still my fault, though," she insisted stubbornly, determined to take the blame for his accident. Knowing her, she was likely to offer her resignation to try and make up for damaging the Shanachie's biggest star. Hearing her name being called, her head jerked around. "Aran?"

The half-elf had to fight his way through the crowd, but though he was not part of the Repertory Company, his face was not an unfamiliar one around the Shanachie. Somehow he managed to squeeze through the crowd to her, taking hold of her hands and looking more than a little concerned. "What happened" Are you all right' They said there was an accident."

"I-I'm fine," she promised her friend - her best friend, as he had become over the past few weeks. "I, um ....I broke Jon's leg." The horrified guilt in her expression said everything that needed to be said. There was no way she was going to forgive herself for this one.

"You didn't..." Jon protested from the chair, his fingers clutching the arm so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

Assured Carina was all right, Aran turned a glance to the actor he had not met yet, but only seen from a distance. He knew enough about him to know that Carina - and most of the actors at the Shanachie - held him in high regard, despite his youth. Aran tugged Carina by the hand as he stepped inside the room. "May I?" he asked, looking from Jon to the woman who was crouching at his knee.

Tugged along behind Aran, Carina just about kept her composure at the sight of Jon in so much obvious pain. The make-up lady - a robust woman of middling years who obviously had more than a little dwarf in her - looked up at Aran curiously. "If you think you can help, go ahead," she told him. "We're waiting on the professionals."

His bloodline wasn't obvious from the look of him. To an ordinary mortal, Aran looked like any other good-looking young man with just the hint of something unusual about him, but not obvious enough to put one's finger on. It was his voice that was the truly unusual part of him, and what had easily landed him a position with the theater company. He crouched down beside Jon to examine the injury, though he seemed more interested in the strained look on the man's face than in his leg. "I'm not a healer," he told the man soberly. "But I might be able to help ease the pain a little." At least, until the so-called professionals arrived with their needles and syringes.

Victoria Granger

Date: 2014-10-18 09:24 EST
Jon looked from one face to the other and back to the young man in front of him. "You're Arandir. Mataya mentioned you. She said you have the voice of an angel." It didn't take much thought to put two and two together. He and Mataya were best friends, and there was very little she didn't tell him. "It's not her fault," he insisted again, this time for Aran, hoping maybe he could talk some sense into Carina.

From outside came the announcement that the professionals would be with them in a couple of minutes, and that Vicki was on her way. Carina lingered in a corner of the dressing room, hugging herself tightly as she watched. She knew that if Aran said he could do something to help, then it was the truth, but she wasn't sure quite what he was planning on doing.

"I know," Aran replied with a smile that seemed far older and wiser than his years. "Just try to relax," he instructed, knowing how difficult that might be to do. He raised one hand and held it close to the man's injured leg, without touching it and closed his eyes, words forming on his lips, soft and quiet and foreign to anyone who did not share his bloodline. He sang softly and quietly some song of his own people that seemed to somehow relax and comfort the injured man and ease his pain a little. The color returned to Jon's face as he slumped back in the chair, lost to the melody and beauty of the half-elf's song.

Outside the dressing room, the backstage area might have been in a minor panic, but inside, it was calm and peaceful. Even Carina felt her distress easing away - not gone, but gently suppressed for the time being, letting out a low, shuddering breath as the need for tears slipped from her psyche. That peace was intruded on, however, by the sound of a woman's voice in the corridor outside.

"Look, Freddie ....I've just left my children in the care of an eighty-year-old man and a hyperactive dog in order to come down here and see for myself what has happened to my husband. Either you get out of my way right now, or you're going to find out just why no one pisses me off these days."

Inside that room, it was the epitome of calm, at least for now, while Arandir was singing. He had single-handedly managed to ease the man's pain, at least temporarily, and calm Carina's distress with only a little bit of the elven magic that flowed through his veins. He heard the commotion outside and moved to his feet, leaning closer to touch a finger to the man's brow, whispering something else in his native tongue that none there were likely to understand. Jon's eyelids fluttered, and he seemed to fall into a peaceful sleep, though it wouldn't last forever.

"What the hell did you do to him?" that female voice demanded from the doorway, revealing itself to belong to Victoria Granger, Jon's wife. The redhead looked like she had been summoned in a hurry, still holding her car keys in one hand as she pinned Aran with a demanding glare.

Carina jumped at the intrusion. "He-he didn't hurt him," she hurried to explain. "It's my fault, Mrs. Granger. I, um, well ....Jon got caught up in my skirt and he broke his leg, he thinks."

Aran's attention was focused solely on Jonathan for a moment, at least, until Vicki broke into the room and demanded an explanation. The half-elf turned to face her, and for just a moment, it seemed some sort of power flowed through him that shone like a golden light from deep inside him somewhere. It was only there for an instant, hardly long enough to notice, and then it was gone. In that moment, he looked older and wiser than his years, but when the light faded, he was only himself again. "It was an accident," he corrected, stepping aside and out of the woman's way. "He's resting now. I'm sorry, but I'm no healer. I could only ease his pain."

Vicki's reaction was probably not what either of them had expected. Her lips twitched, and the concern in her face was overpowered by a sudden swell of amusement. "He broke his leg?" she repeated, sounding as though it was a struggle not to laugh. "Please tell me he did it on stage."

Nonplussed, and a little shaken by the brief glimpse of power in Aran, Carina swallowed. "Um ....actually, he sort of fell on to the stage," she offered, and jumped in surprise when Vicki burst out laughing.

Aran looked as shocked at the woman's reaction as Carina, wondering if this was some kind of mortal madness. He failed to see the humor in the situation.

"Vic?" a groggy Jon muttered from the chair, sounding almost drunk with giddiness. "I broke my leg," he said, with an odd smile at the irony of it, struggling and failing to keep his eyes open.

Aran moved over to Carina and took hold of her hand to offer some comfort.

As soon as Jon roused, the other two might as well not have been in the room at all for all the attention Vicki paid them. Calming her laughter, she moved to crouch down beside Jon, stroking her hand fondly against his cheek as she grinned. "So I hear," she assured him. "Only you, love."

Biting her lip, Carina squeezed Aran's hand, glancing up as she heard her name over the intercom. It was time to go back on stage. With a gentle tug, she pulled her friend out of the dressing room, leaving the husband and wife to it.

"Tell Carina I'm sorry," Jon murmured, drowsily, far more relaxed now that his wife had arrived to tend to him, not to mention whatever it was Carina's friend had done to make him feel this way. It was as though he'd had one too many drinks, his body as weightless as though he was floating on a cloud. "Take me home, Vicki. I'm sleepy."

"Not just yet, stud muffin," his wife told him gently, her fingers smoothing his hair back off his brow as she smiled at him. "We have to find out what?s wrong with you first. You might have to go to hospital before you can go home." She shifted, dragging a second chair close beside his to make herself comfortable. "But that doesn't mean you can't drift off to sleep, love. I'm right here."

Victoria Granger

Date: 2014-10-18 09:26 EST
"I have to-I have to finish the play," Jon murmured drowsily, as though he'd had one too many drinks or been given too many painkillers, though it was only some sort of elven magic that was to blame. "I don't wanna disappoint everyone," he said, slurring his words a little.

"There'll be other plays," Vicki informed her husband gently, aware that he was going to be a nightmare to live with if this was a break that couldn't be Healed, at least for a couple of days. "And you won't be disappointing anyone by taking care of yourself. You've got a little girl and little boy who need you to be healthy, sweetheart. Missing a couple of shows is nothing compared to that."

"I'm an idiot," he mumbled, leaning over to rest his head against Vicki's shoulder and sliding his hand into hers. Whether his leg was broken or not, his stint as Petruchio was over. The show would just have to go on without him, for better or worse.

"No, you're not," she promised him, kissing his hair as he rested his head on her shoulder, fingers linking with his fondly. She wasn't going to tell him about the panic she'd been in when she'd been called to get down to the theater as fast as she could. "You did what every actor is supposed to do. You broke a leg." She snickered softly, kissing his forehead to soften the tease, even as the door opened and a couple of medical professionals made their way inside.

"That's not funny, Vic," he said with a pout, remembering what he'd said to Carina just before they'd gone out on stage, or more accurately, before he'd tripped up the stairs.

"It sort of is, love," his wife informed him unrepentantly, knowing he would see the funny side eventually.

She quieted as what passed for an EMT examined Jon's leg thoughtfully, finally piping up with, "Well, it's not a full break. Seems as though you've cracked your shin bone, Mr. Granger. We can splint it here and give you crutches, but you should pop along to the hospital tomorrow and get it checked out properly."

"Will I need a cast?" he asked, groggily as the EMT examined his leg. At least, it wasn't a full break, though it had been painful enough. He seemed rather boyish, with his head resting sleepily on Vicki's shoulder and a worried look on his face, still in full costume but for the torn tights.

"Right at this moment, I would say not," the EMT told him, pulling a padded splint out of his bag and fitting it to Jon's leg. It sat firmly, holding his ankle and knee immobile to protect the shinbone that hadn't survived its impact with the edge of the stage. "But it's best to get it checked out. Take painkillers as you would for any injury, and try not to put any weight on it for a couple of weeks."

Jon winced as the EMT fitted the splint to his leg, though whatever Carina's boyfriend - as Jon believed him to be - had done seemed to have taken the edge off, so that it was halfway bearable. "Great," he grumbled quietly. Though Taming of the Shrew was just about over, he had the premiere of the final installment of the Fifty Shades... trilogy coming up in a few weeks, and it was going to be a little difficult to navigate that if his leg was broken.

Not to mention his little sister's wedding. Vicki smiled gratefully as the EMT finished up, accepting the codeine tablets with a nod as he explained how to administer those slightly more heavy duty painkillers. "Thank you," she smiled, watching him out through the door before turning back to her husband. "All right, Hop-Along ....your car or mine?"

A wedding which had complete slipped his groggy mind. He was just starting to nod off again when Vicki returned from walking the man out with a question that seemed a little too obvious for a serious answer. "I don't think I'll be driving for a while," he said with that pout of his. "Who's gonna bring the Bentley home?" he asked, seemingly more concerned about his car than his leg.

"We can ask Liv to bring it back in the morning," she told him, rolling her eyes at his response. "Or we can leave mine here, and I can drive you back in your mistress. Your choice." As she talked, she moved to collect his clothing, bundling it into her bag and kneeling to put his shoes on his feet, being as gentle as she could with the injured limb.

"Would you do that for me, Vicki?" he asked, touched that she'd be willing to leave her own transportation behind so that he could make sure his was safely returned home. It seemed a small thing, but to him, it was very important. "She's not my mistress," he pointed out. "You are!" he said, reaching to bop her on the nose with a finger and missing completely, finding only air.

She laughed, catching his flailing hand to kiss his fingertip. "Of course I would. You're going to have a bad enough night without worrying about your car. So ....give me the keys, I will go and get the Bentley, and while I'm gone, someone will come in here and help you get to the stage door. How does that sound?"

"You're gonna leave me?" he pouted again, reaching to pull his keys out of a non-existent pocket before realizing he was still in costume. "Oh," he muttered. "Keys are in my coat pocket," he said, before remembering that his coat was hanging on the back of the chair he was sitting in.

"Jon, I'm not going to try and walk you through the WestEnd to the garage where you park your car when you're slightly out of it and not used to having a broken leg yet," Vicki told him gently, retrieving his keys. She turned, bending down to kiss him affectionately. "I'll see you at the stage door. It won't be long."

"No, you can't go out there alone. It's dangerous!" he whined, being just a little dramatic. It was true though - the WestEnd wasn't the safest place in Rhy'Din, though it was fairly safe near the Shanachie. "Take someone with you. Take Reindeer..."

"Jonny, I will be perfectly fine," she promised him. "But if you insist, I'll take someone with me. You, on the other hand, need to concentrate on getting to the stage door, and I'll find someone to help you with that, too."

He frowned up at her, wondering how the hell he was going to get to the stage door when he could hardly keep his eyes open. "Okay, Vicki. I'm just gonna close my eyes for a while." He let his eyelids drift closed, too sleepy to argue with her anymore.

She watched him for a long moment, until she was absolutely certain he was asleep. Then she slipped out of the room, and called Liv. She was going to need some help to get Jon home without disturbing him too much, and the first person she thought of was Johnny. Besides, the Human Torch enjoyed being her surrogate little brother, and it wasn't that late in the evening. But frankly, the sooner she got Jon home and in bed, the better.

((This was a lot of fun!))