A/N: So I don't know about any other techies out there, but the second I step into a theatre, without fail, I'm transformed into this crazy swearing, easily annoyed, very angry person. So in honor of that, Mark's mouth during "Tango Maureen", and Mark randomly pulling Roger along to Maureen's sound-check after "Santa Fe" because Roger wasn't originally actually supposed to be that song (although Adam Pascal does sing the whole harmony thing during Rent5) and they had to get rid of him for "I'll Cover You", I give you:
(Roger may seem a little OOC but I justify it for the following reasons: Well, didn't you see how happy and, er, playful(?) he was in Today 4 U? I think as long as his reasons to be miserable are safely tucked away, he's fingering Mark's camera in response to a comment. Or the equivalent of that in any given situation. Anyways, once again I present):
Sound-Check
Roger looked around the room sourly, swinging his legs against the empty equipment box.
Why the hell Mark had dragged him along to stupid Maureen's stupid sound-check he would never know.
There were random people milling about as well as some homeless camping out in front of tents and the equivalent of houses still erect. It was still a couple hours until performance time. Maureen's new girlfriend, Joanne, was trying in vain to set up a scaffold while Mark attempted to coach her from the stage, where he was also adjusting some wires and failing to effectively run a sound-check.
Maureen was only God knew where, and Roger… was sitting on a box. He grinned as Mark dropped the bundle of wires in his hand with a swear that was both loud and peculiarly articulate. He would offer help but he knew he wouldn't know what he was doing. He'd probably end up irritating the hell out of Mark and getting kicked out anyway. It was almost beyond amusing to see Mark's attempt at the multi-tasking.
Besides, the last time he 'helped' Mark with something theatre-setup gig, the one thing Mark had asked him to set-up had started smoking in the middle of the performance. The actors were good at covering, but not when they had to explain a smoking telephone.
"Oh, sorry!" someone shouted when he had to duck to avoid being hit in the head by a piece of plywood. He scowled at them but they were already long gone.
So Roger sulked.
Mark was doing anything lately to get him out of the loft and keep him out of the loft. He hadn't succeeded in either until the life support meeting, but that wasn't the point. The point was Mark wanted to keep him outside as long as possible and dragging him to the stupid sound-check under the pretense of help was Mark's way of doing just that.
"Joanne," he was yelling now, pushing his glasses up while on his knees, trying to sort out the wires, "You need to put the x-bars through the holes at the same time or it won't work!" The last sentence echoed through the room, digitally delayed because of the microphone beside him: "won't work- won't work, won't work…"
The look that Mark gave the microphone was priceless, and suddenly Roger wished he had the camera with him. A second later Mark was staring at him and he realized that it was too late to slink away or pretend to not hear him.
"Roger!" Mark called out and the digital delay mocked him. "I fucking know you're working you fucking piece of shit," Mark snarled his voice magnified, punching a button and abruptly cutting off the middle of the first 'shit'.
Roger had to work hard to keep the grin off his face as he slide off his box, climbing the stairs to the stage and to Mark.
"Don't bother," Mark muttered, his back turned, "I can see it anyways."
"I just find it hilarious that you turn into a sailor when you start working with this stuff," Roger defended, letting his grin go. As a general rule Mark didn't swear very often- he even had the adorable habit of drifting off at the end of a curse when he first came to the City. Unless, of course, he was working with any sort of theatre equipment. Then all the rules went out the window.
"I do not!" Mark protested, straightening up and adjusting a speaker. His eyes caught Joanne doing something with a light that was apparently either very bad or dangerous as he started yelling, "Joanne! Don't touch that! It's going to explode into a million pieces and send melted discharge all over the audience if you do! Use a glove or something!"
Joanne froze and watched him with wide eyes before slowly lowering her hand from the inside of the light beside her. "Sorry?" she called timidly and Roger couldn't help but laugh. Mark had already moved on to spazing about something else on stage.
Mark and his inner techie. Roger shook his head.
"Roger!" Mark snapped and Roger jumped a little.
He glared, "What?"
"Mind helping me out a little?" he gestured to the small microphone on one of the tables and Roger stared at him blankly. "Put on the ear-mount mic, I need to check it," he elaborated.
"You know that I have no godly idea of what I'm doing, right?" he cautioned and Mark rolled his eyes,
"Just pretend you're Maureen and test the mic out. And," he added when he saw something glimmer in Roger's eye, "Please remember that her girlfriend is here. And I'm her ex-boyfriend. And this is awkward enough without you being… you."
"Aw Markie," Roger teased, fitting the ear loop over his own, "You should know me better than that."
"I do," Mark muttered, "That's why I'm worried." He crouched behind the sound board and looked expectantly at Roger. Roger adjusted the microphone capsule over his mouth and took a deep breathe,
"Pookie! Don't put your finger there!" he whined, raising his voice a couple octaves. There was a thunderous protest of feedback and Roger winced. The entire population of the performance space was staring at Mark who was behind the sound board holding the cord he'd just yanked out of it. All with the expectation of Joanne- who was staring at Roger.
"Roger," Mark hissed but Roger cut him off,
"I know what you're thinking." Mark raised his eyebrow dubiously. "You're thinking that that was uncanny, aren't you."
"No," Mark glared, "I'm thinking you should go help Joanne get that light up the scaffold." He pointed at Joanne, who was still staring, a huge spot light beside her. Roger pouted a little as he took off the mic and put it on Mark's extended palm.
"Told you I didn't know what I was doing," he muttered, banished from Mark's company for the time being and exiled to Joanne's. Joanne was glaring at him though, and halfway to her he decided it'd probably be a better idea to just skip out and wait for the rest of his friends to show up as far away from the stage, Mark, and Joanne as possible.
A/N: Please review. Please? Roger will imitate Scar from the Lion King if you do :)