[In Ambassador Dorm, the Balladeer wakes up on a small cot with a thin mattress, pressed awkwardly up against the wall. Frowning and pushing himself up on his elbows, it quickly becomes clear that everyone else in the room has much nicer accommodations. But, well, that seems pretty natural to him - the difference, at least, if nothing else. He doesn't speak a word of complaint, or even look that disgruntled. Hey, at least he got a bed at all!
The costume's another matter. Standing up, he picks quietly at the lapels of his white blazer, running his thumb over the purple piping.]
Seems a little fancy...
[He's clearly talking to himself. Indeed, though he casts his dormmates a few glances, he doesn't seem inclined to initiate any conversation there.
After that, he exits out into the halls to walk around a little. He seems notably less distressed than most other people; if anything, he's curious, poking his head into rooms and cataloging what and who is around. He stops to read the rules, though he doesn't seem to have found his own copy of the yearbook. But he doesn't have much to say until he reaches the lobby, tries the doors, and finds them locked. The Balladeer looks up at the ceiling and stage-whispers:]
Player? Are you there?
[But she isn't.
This isn't his show, or hers. He shouldn't be here at all; he can't shake the awful feeling that he's going to screw this production up for someone. But this is also pretty clearly the introduction. He won't be able to even try doing anything about it until the next scene. He spends a moment or two trying to go there directly - you might see him walking in and out of rooms like he's trying to trigger some kind of motion detector or something weird like that - but that doesn't work either. He's just gonna have to let it play out.
There's no sense kicking up a fuss. If anything, that's more likely to be disruptive. So instead, the Balladeer takes himself off to the band room. You can find him there for most of the hour, methodically tending to and tuning the instruments. He's started with the guitars available, but you might also see him move on to the other strings. Looks like he knows a lot about this stuff. Should anyone enter, he looks up like he's...not really sure if he should say anything. Give him a cue, please?]
no subject
The costume's another matter. Standing up, he picks quietly at the lapels of his white blazer, running his thumb over the purple piping.]
Seems a little fancy...
[He's clearly talking to himself. Indeed, though he casts his dormmates a few glances, he doesn't seem inclined to initiate any conversation there.
After that, he exits out into the halls to walk around a little. He seems notably less distressed than most other people; if anything, he's curious, poking his head into rooms and cataloging what and who is around. He stops to read the rules, though he doesn't seem to have found his own copy of the yearbook. But he doesn't have much to say until he reaches the lobby, tries the doors, and finds them locked. The Balladeer looks up at the ceiling and stage-whispers:]
Player? Are you there?
[But she isn't.
This isn't his show, or hers. He shouldn't be here at all; he can't shake the awful feeling that he's going to screw this production up for someone. But this is also pretty clearly the introduction. He won't be able to even try doing anything about it until the next scene. He spends a moment or two trying to go there directly - you might see him walking in and out of rooms like he's trying to trigger some kind of motion detector or something weird like that - but that doesn't work either. He's just gonna have to let it play out.
There's no sense kicking up a fuss. If anything, that's more likely to be disruptive. So instead, the Balladeer takes himself off to the band room. You can find him there for most of the hour, methodically tending to and tuning the instruments. He's started with the guitars available, but you might also see him move on to the other strings. Looks like he knows a lot about this stuff. Should anyone enter, he looks up like he's...not really sure if he should say anything. Give him a cue, please?]