#Broadwaycon asks

[dollyllama108]

"It's like my father always used to say," Wyll said, pulling his lute around. "I spent all my time and money on lessons for this blasted thing, may as well use it." "Is he dead?" the child with the hat asked. "No." Wyll strummed the opening chord one note at a time before launching into verse.

Cruciferous is careening at top speed toward Wyll's entrance and I am ready to unleash this interpretation of Wyll on the world. Drawing some inspiration from Tobey Maguire Spider-Man as discussed, but also this one kid in front of me at BroadwayCon whose backpack was covered in swag and told me I should watch the Spongebob musical because it's actually pretty good—no, sorry kid, I appreciate your enthusiasm but that is not my bag and you do you.

Obviously he gets his sexy superhero intro where Astarion and Shart see him bounce off a rock and slice through a goblin, then follow it up with these dorkass one-liners he refuses to stop doing, and they both pull one of these.

(Kristen Ritter is my casting pick for Shart in the live action adaptation, with Dreama Walker as Lae'zel of course)

Then he gets a whole plot-free Karlach-free PoV chapter to himself where the earnest and playful bits of his character are established quickly through his interactions, as is his internal strife, and trust me when I say I am writing him as if he's the party member with the highest charisma. Because he is.

I am a bardlock/theater-kid Wyll truther (DAD everyone in Avernus knows all the words to Hadestown, it's like a job requirement). You know he saw the disaster Team Tadpole in Cruciferous and thought, "ooh, Act 1 conflict of the hero's journey! i know just how this resolves in the narrative!"

[mercsandmonsters]

Is anyone going to BroadwayCon this summer?

I would love to meet up with you. I'll ask some friends if they want to go.

[starchildrenofdustand-ashes]

You met Anthonyyy!!!! Jealous!!! What was he like?

Yesssss I met Anthony!!! He was really sweet! I told him he was adorable and he was like Awwww, you’re adorable too… and my heart melted. He also said he liked my cosplay and that my hair was amazing okay I died. Then when I came back he remembered me and he was like “Hi again!” and um he’s so cute.Also when he was done signing my falsetto piano book,  he was like “Bye! have a great day! Actually, you know what? I’ll see you later!” and 

I died, anon. I died. 

[jackabelle73]

Is there anything you are doing right now (either in writing or in life) that you want to just swoon about for a moment? Anything at all. Maybe you made a super awesome cookie three days ago or have a new chapter of something coming. I wanna hear about it 'cause I appreciate everything you do. :) Thanks.

Thanks for sending this ask!

Let's see... I recently took a couple classes in how to throw clay on the wheel. It's something I've always wanted to try, and now I have, and it was a lot of fun. I'm hoping to take more classes, but the beginners' classes sell out VERY quickly at every local clay studio, so it's tricky.

As for upcoming swoon-worthy things, I'm planning a trip to NYC in July. It'll be my first big trip since January of 2020. I'm both looking forward to it, and really nervous about it. I'll go to BroadwayCon, then the day after that ends, my mom will fly into NYC to join me and we'll spend five more days in the city. Counting down the days!

[snazzystarlight]

10, 38, and 50 for the asks : )

HOW DO YOU PEOPLE KEEP MAKING IT PINK OMG OMG

10. What song sums up this year for you? "Ship In A Bottle" by fin!

38. What was the best moment of the year for you? Probably when I unexpectedly got contacted by Left At London to do merch for her album, and then she CALLED ME and I had to not lose my absolute mind at her!! Or when I was on a 9 hour Zoom call for BroadwayCon while recovering from my shot and my roommate SET OUR VACCUM ON FIRE behind me.

50. What do you wish for yourself? More than anything, stability and growth. I need to get on top of some things, and if I want to keep doing art for work, I need to grow a lot, both as a creator and in terms of sales/reach. It's about to be a scary, weird year of changes for me personally, so I need to keep improving and make sure I'm prepared!!

[thecitykeepsevolving]

HAPPY 50TH BIRTHDAY ANTHONY RAPP!!

You’re not getting older, you’re the same age you’ve always been!

[SAPPY POST UNDER THE CUT]

If you told my teenage self that I would develop a fan-friendship with him, I would’ve thought you were nuts. Anthony was a big part of my life when I first became obsessed with RENT. I even got into his solo recordings (which he says are awful but are actually pretty decent!) I’ve always loved Anthony, but things died out until he starred in If/Then. When I first saw the show in June 2014, he was out for his infamous knee injury. I rushed to finish his book during the summer, and he was back in the show when I saw it in October. Seeing him in If/Then was the first time I saw him live EVER. If you could believe I had been a fan for 9 years at that point and never seen him live? When it happened, it was worth the wait. 

Anthony literally puts his heart and soul into EVERYTHING he does. After the show, I visited the stage door and was so excited when he came out. He saw I had his book and said, “Thank you for buying my book!” Little does he know it took me FOREVER to finish it. When he said that, I was touched. He was nice enough to thank me when all I asked him to do was sign it. I immediately realized that he’s different than other actors. He goes out of his way to make fans feel like people and is appreciative of everything they do to support him.

When If/Then closed I was sad, but lucky enough to see Anthony live many other times. I saw him at 54 Below for the first time in September 2015, and met him for the second time. Our interaction wasn’t as deep, but he still knew who I was and acknowledged my existence. I saw him again at an autograph signing at BroadwayCon 2016 and we had one of the longest interactions ever. [MORE ABOUT THIS AT THIS LINK!] Then, I knew that he saw me as more than just a fan. After BroadwayCon, I saw him at 54 Below twice more. One time was in October 2016 with Adam. I didn’t meet him that night, but I was able to meet Adam for the first time which is cool! The second time was at 54 Below again in January 2018, but I didn’t talk to him after because it was a later show.

I wasn’t able to see Anthony after 54 below in 2018, and then the pandemic hit and live events stopped. When he announced he was returning to 54 Below this summer, I hesitated then randomly decided to buy tickets one night. I saw him on August 30, 2021 almost 6 years to the day that I saw him the first time. I was able to bring my mom, who had never been to 54 Below before or seen Anthony live, so it was special. The concert was my first live event in NYC since the pandemic, and it was the perfect way to celebrate live shows returning. I met Anthony after (this was my 4th time meeting him) because he invited everyone to do a masked meet and greet. I didn’t get to talk to him as much, but he remembered me, even after all that time. I introduced him to my mom, and she was able to connect with him about personal topics.

I don’t want people to read this and think that I’m just bragging about the number of times I’ve seen Anthony. He has always been someone who has made me feel at ease any time he makes an appearance or sings a song. He never makes me angry, and knowing him in real-life gives me the reassurance that he’s still a nice person, even if he’s famous in the theater industry. This industry is full of terrible people, and it’s nice to know that there’s at least one person who is genuine. Happy 50th Birthday, Anthony! May you have the most amazing day and year ahead. Continue to be nice and kind to everyone, and keep working hard. Until next time!

[marlahey]

(the devil’s in the details but) you got a friend in me

a little voice fic characters/pairings: sam/bess, prisha being perfect, ella the pupper warnings: minor language episode tags: set between 1.06 and 1.07 notes: this show is so underrated, so if you like sara barellies at all and want to watch very beautiful and talented people make heart eyes at one another constantly, please watch it.  for @creativexdreamer if we gotta carry the samuel love in this tag ourselves, we will. 

He has no idea what time it is when his phone drags him from sleep, but Samuel pulls it to his ear without looking, groggy and disoriented. “Hello?”

Silence. “Benny, I swear to god if you’re about to tell me watch the video again–” There’s a hiccup, then an inhale that he’d know anywhere, least of all because of how long he’s spent with it in his ears in each recorded track and voice note they’ve passed between them. They haven’t spoken in almost a week. He should hang up. He doesn’t hang up. (Cause he’s a lovesick fool.) “Bess?” A long pause. She inhales again, shakily; Samuel sits up straight. “Bess. Is that you?” “Samuel?” She’s been crying, that much is obvious. He jumps out of bed, grabbing the first shirt within reach, struggling into it with one hand. “What happened? Where are you? Are you–” “I’m fine.” Bess is not fine. Is she drunk? “I’m at home. Don’t come over, I’m fine.” His roaring heartbeat slows into something that he can at least swallow over. Samuel blinks until the familiar moonlight angles of his apartment take shape, banishing the extreme panic. He thinks of the regret that had curled in his gut the other night that he’d left her at the bar. He shouldn’t have left. She’d told him to, hadn’t she? “I’m so sorry Samuel. God, I was a total bitch to you and you don’t deserve it…” He doesn’t know how to respond to that. Maybe he’s a little more petty than he thought.  “What happened?” Samuel repeats, softer this time. Bess hiccups again. He reaches for his jeans. (He shouldn’t go. But he refuses to feel that kind of regret again.) “Is Louie okay?” he prompts when Bess doesn’t answer. She hums. “Your dad?” “He’s still super mad that we ruined his birthday.” Samuel winces as he takes the stairs two at a time. “And my dad…” Bess trails off. It takes concentrated effort not to push her again; Sam channels that energy into hailing the first cab he sees, pulling his muted phone away from his ear to give her address. “You can tell me.” He listens to her take several deep breaths. “The asshole at the record store accused him of trying to steal one. I had to go pay him off so he wouldn’t press charges.” Suddenly the cake thing makes so much more sense. “I thought he was just being a dick and didn’t care about Louie calling him all upset, I thought it was just an accident, but then–” Dread pools in the pit of Samuel’s stomach. “It turns out Louie never called him.” He can only swear noiselessly in the back of the cab, shaking his head. Bess’ words ring in his ears. A lot of people have a lot. “Bess–” “Please don’t say anything. I just can’t take pity right now.” Samuel tightens his grip on his phone and wills NYC traffic to move a little faster. “Okay.” It feels like they sit in silence for a long time, but at this point he’s just grateful that she hasn’t panicked and hung up on him.  “I’m such a mess, Samuel. Even Prisha thinks so. She’s out with Ananya just to avoid me.” “I’m sure that’s not what she’s doing. And even if it was...you’re allowed to be a mess sometimes, Bess.” She snorts, then sniffs. He’s made it to her building. Samuel manages to slide through the lobby doors behind someone else. How the hell does her building not have an elevator? “I shouldn’t be dragging everyone into my shit. Listen to me. I’m drunk dialling the one person in New York who probably hates me the most.” “You know that’s not true,” he insists, craning his neck up the three remaining flights of stairs. “I’m sure that the receptionist at Electric Lady has a few choice words for you.” Bess laughs, watery and weak, but it blooms warmth in his chest all the same. “I don’t hate you,” he says. “Promise.” “Where are you? You sound funny.” “Nowhere,” Samuel lies. “How was the rest of Louie’s birthday?” She explains the finer details of their descent into Broadway appreciation as he clears the last landing. Now that he’s finally in front of Bess and Prisha’s door, Samuel’s not sure he can summon the nerve. “He loves you more than one day or an ice cream cake. People don’t skip out on BroadwayCon just for anyone, you know.” Bess doesn’t say anything to that. He knocks before he can chicken out. “I think Prish forgot her keys. I don’t want her to see me like this.” “She doesn’t care.” Samuel knocks again, just for good measure. There’s a series of disjointed noises from behind the door and in his ear, as though Bess has to struggle to her feet and put down her glass. He shouldn’t have done this.   He should still be mad at her. (He isn’t.)

The door swings open. Bess leans on it like she needs the support; Samuel has to rock back on his heels to keep from reaching for her. She squints at him, frowning down at their call still going in her hand. Bess hangs up and Samuel tries to feel nothing over it. Her hair is half pulled up, her t-shirt cropped, her shorts tiny. She has socks with dogs on them. He has to avoid staring and smiling at the same time. (God, he’s so fucked.) “I told you not to come.” Samuel’s heart falls. “I know.” She doesn’t slam the door in his face, which he takes as a good sign. “And if you want me to go away, I will.” Bess’ chin wobbles. Samuel takes a tentative step forward. “I’m sorry for what I said to you.” “Well you were right,” she says, slurring. “I’m fucked up.” He shakes his head. “You’re not fucked up. I shouldn’t have said any of that. You and Ethan–” She flinches and Samuel hates himself a little. “It’s none of my business.” He’s halfway inside her doorway. Bess doesn’t retreat, even though tears are pooling in her eyes. “He told me he was going to leave her,” she whispers. “And then he didn’t.” A white, hot anger sears through his chest. Samuel stops before he can touch her and let his instincts override his reason. “I’m sorry.” Bess shakes her head, almost desperately. Over her shoulder Samuel can see her and Prisha’s apartment, turned upside down as though by a tornado. “What happened tonight?” Her breath trembles on the way in and again on the way out. “My notebook. It’s gone. Must’ve left it on the L and now it’s…”  Up close, he can tell she’s just as drunk as she’d been at the club, if not more. She makes a lackadaisical gesture. “Just like everything else.” Like the final back breaking straw, Bess slips on her floor; Samuel can only spring forward to catch her. She leans into him as though she has no control over her own body and he’s suddenly very aware of his hands on her waist, her arm. The memory of the club burns behind his eyes. “I gotcha,” Samuel says, for lack of anything else. “I’ve got you, Bess.” He thinks about that slimeball producer and has to remind himself not to tighten his grip. They’re alone in her apartment. She’s safe. Keep it together, dude. Bess huffs into his neck, like a choked laugh. Samuel aims a well-placed kick at her front door, and the silence of her empty apartment as it closes feels unbearable. “Had any water yet tonight?” he asks, taking in the apartment with as little curiosity as he can manage. Samuel doesn’t know Prisha very well but he can see where she and Bess overlap in their decor. The open doorway leading to a bedroom can only be Bess’ – fairy lights just like these hang in her storage unit. Her hair tickles as she shakes her head. Bess doesn’t resist as Samuel tugs her gently into the kitchen. There’s a bottle of Jack on the table and a glass on the floor; Ella lifts her head from beside it and looks up at him as if to say, are you going to do something about this? He’s being shamed by a dog. Samuel deposits Bess into a chair, clearing away the glass and the bottle. She doesn’t say anything and he can only be grateful for small blessings as he steps out of his shoes. A drinking glass is easy enough to find and the tap turns cold quickly. He glances over his shoulder to check that Bess is still conscious; Ella’s nails click on the hardwood and she’s smoothing the dog’s ears, staring at nothing as he approaches. “Here.” Samuel crouches down to meet Bess’ eye, waiting until her grip is firm on the glass before he lets go. “Drink slow, okay?” He doesn’t move until she takes three sips and puts her water down on the table.“Wanna lie down?” Before he can stand, Bess’ hand lands on his chest, curling just a little into the collar of his shirt. “Samuel?” She sounds very small. An ache lurches behind his ribs. It’s hard to decide who is more to handle: the livid Bess who spits fire, or this quiet version of her that seems to be drowning in her sadness. Samuel puts his own hand over hers. “ “Yeah, Bess?” Her voice breaks. “What’s wrong with me?” “Hey, nothing.” He’s reaching before he can overthink it, cupping her face so she has to look him in the eye. “Nothing’s wrong with you.” “Then why can’t I stop pushing people away? You said–” “Forget what I said, I was being an asshole.” Samuel shakes his head.   “But you’re right,” she insists, too adamantly for him to feel anything but shame over it. “I don’t let anyone care about me. I push everyone away so they–so they can’t...” Tears spill over her cheeks. Samuel almost doesn’t say it. “What, so they can’t hurt you?” Bess’ face crumples and her shoulders cave in. He can only draw her to the floor with him as her hand on his chest becomes a grip on his collar. Ella whines, circling as Samuel wraps both arms around Bess. He leans on the table, smooths his hand up her spine to the base of her neck, and down again. Bess shudders. “People care about you,” Samuel says firmly. “Prisha, Benny, your brother, your father. I care about you, you know that. None of us want to hurt you. Push me away all you want, but that isn’t going to change.” Her breath hitches, wet and warm over his collarbone. Bess leans into him –more intentional than before– so Samuel just folds her closer, until he can feel her heart hammering beside his. “It’s okay to be a mess. It’s okay to want to do everything yourself because that’s what you’ve had to do forever, but…” He leans back, brushing at Bess’ tear-streaked face with the side of his hand. “It's okay to let people help you, Bess. You can let people in, sometimes.” She’s looking at him in a way that makes him want to hide.  “You’re too nice to me.” Bess says it like an accusation. “Why are you so nice to me?” He has to rearrange his expression into something that hopefully doesn’t read, because I’m sort of in love with you. “C’mon.” “Where are we going?” she asks, unresisting as he pulls her carefully to her feet. “To bed. Well, you’re going to bed.” Her socks slide across the floor. As he leans to steady her, Samuel bangs his head on the underside of the table. “Ow, fuck.” Bess giggles; he has to remind himself not to find her so adorable when she’s plastered out of her mind. “Don’t make me carry you over there.” “Oh you wouldn’t dare.” Bess’ head lolls a little against his shoulder, pointing a finger that’s probably supposed to be at his face but instead points at the ceiling. Samuel just raises an eyebrow. He leans down and sweeps her up into his arms, adjusting his grip with only minor difficulty as Bess laughs. Her skin is very soft. He’s trying not to think about it. “You’re very strong, Samuel. I’m impressed.” “That’s me,” he says as Ella leads them helpfully into Bess’ room. “Very impressive.” She sighs a little into the slope of his neck; it takes everything in Samuel not to blush. Bess’ dog eyes them from her little bed as he studies the colourful duvet, pulled over on one side already. Samuel is expecting gravity to do most of the work as he eases Bess down onto her mattress. What he’s not expecting is her arm still looped around his neck, dragging his weight down with her. They almost crack heads, but Samuel anchors himself with one hand just in time. “That could’ve been bad.” Their faces are alarmingly close. He can see tiny freckles on her cheeks. He’s trying not to think about it.  Bess giggles again, seemingly unfazed. Her hand is still on his shoulder; wandering fingers find the hair curling behind his ear and Samuel has to force himself to stay very, very still. He wonders if she can feel the shiver that’s zipped all the way down to his toes. Bess smiles up at him and he’s struck with the urge to just lean down a mere few inches to kiss her, so suddenly that he has to swallow the feeling. “Are you going to leave me here?”  She still sounds drunk, but there’s a vulnerable undercurrent to the question. He still wants to kiss her. Samuel settles for brushing a piece of hair away from her face instead. “Not if you don’t want me to.” Bess shakes her head. Something close to relief floods his bones. “Let me just get your water, okay?” She’s blinking heavily when he returns. Samuel leans over to pull her duvet up around her shoulders. He’s not even fully turned away from the bed before calloused fingers grab his. “I thought you weren’t leaving me,” Bess says, frowning in a way that’s not stupidly cute. Samuel looks from her face to their hands; her fingers seem so much more delicate when they’re not covered in rings and curved over piano keys. “I’ll just be on the couch.” She just frowns deeper. Bess pulls with a strength he had no idea she possessed, and Samuel is too surprised to do anything but follow, hovering above the covers. “Are you sure?” He glances at Ella, who’s already asleep. “I’m sure.” Bess looks very serious for the first time tonight. He lets out a careful breath and sinks slowly onto the bed on top of the blanket. Seemingly satisfied, she settles herself into her pillow, still blinking very slowly. Her hand goes lax around his. Samuel watches his fingers move almost of their own volition, tracing the edge of her palm, her wrist, stroking gently up her arm. “Okay?” he asks, almost a whisper, because who knows what time it is, if this is alright. She nods. He can’t stop looking at her face. “For what it’s worth,” Samuel says, the words out before he can take them back, “I’m sorry about Ethan. Guy’s a jerk for leading you on like that.” Bess just shrugs. She looks small again. He thinks she might fall asleep, but then: “Samuel?” “Hmm?” “What if I don’t have any more songs?” He has to smother a deeply fond laugh. Samuel touches her temple, if only to prove his point. “They’re up here, Bess. There’s a million other notebooks. You’re the one writing in them.” Bess’ eyes are closing. “Can we write a song tomorrow?” “Sure.” “Promise?” God, he’s so fucked. “Promise.” And just like that, Bess is asleep. Samuel looks at her until he can’t anymore. 

*

He wakes up very warm. Unlike the dramatic jolt from sleep the night before, Samuel is drawn into consciousness very slowly. So much is unfamiliar: the lights, the window, the weight across his chest. Bess’ hair tickles his chin. She’s somehow rolled over, duvet and all, clinging to his shirt with one hand. Even with the blanket between them, Samuel can feel her knee caught between his. He’s holding her. His arm cradling her head, wrapped around her back, keeps Bess against him. Samuel stares at his hand on her shoulder like it doesn’t even belong to him. What is going on with his limbs? But it’s...nice. (It’s nicer than nice, but that’s a train of thought that Samuel’s been trying very hard not to follow.) He should move. He doesn’t want to move.  Samuel looks up at the ceiling as if it’ll give him strength. He catches his fingers trailing up and down Bess’ bare arm, just as unconscious and instinctive as before. But she doesn’t wake. If anything, Bess just presses closer. His face feels very hot, suddenly. Samuel curses silently at no one. There’s a gentle huffing noise and he glances over to realize that Ella’s staring. She’s judging him, he can tell. Get it together. By some miracle, Samuel manages to slide out from underneath Bess without waking her. He tries not to stare, but his chest warms when Bess curls into the space he’d just vacated, like an instinct. Samuel tiptoes out of the room and nearly shouts when he lifts his head to find Prisha sitting at the kitchen table, grinning at him. “Fuck,” he says as quietly as he can manage, glaring as she barely holds down laughter. “You scared the shit out of me!” “Sorry.” Prisha doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I was wondering which one of you would wake up first.” A flush rises up Samuel’s neck. He’d left Bess’ bedroom door open all night. “Nothing happened, I know. God, your face Samuel.” Her roommate is still smiling, but there’s something softer in it now. “You’re very obviously both fully clothed, and you’re clearly not that kind of guy.” His heart jumps uncomfortably. “She call you last night?” He nods. Some of the relief he’d felt earlier must be visible, because Prisha looks it, too.“Good,” she says. “I’m glad. I’ve been really worried about her lately.” Samuel just nods again. “Me too.” She studies him for a moment longer; he feels distinctly like he’s being tested. “Coffee?” Prisha asks, getting up abruptly. “Yeah, that’d be great.”  She offers him a hot mug a minute later, following his unwitting gaze to Bess’ still open doorway. Samuel should be embarrassed probably, but there’s something very safe in Prisha’s understanding expression. “Where’s Ananya?” he asks, desperate for something else to talk about. “Home. Figured we’d let Bess cool off before she came back.” Makes sense, honestly. “You guys play together, right? A band?” Prisha nods. She seems nervous, suddenly. “Yeah.” Samuel isn’t sure what his face is doing, because she blurts, “We’re um, she’s– I’m not...out, really.” He takes a careful sip before he speaks. “That’s cool. No worries.” “Thanks.” Her relief is so much more palpable now.They drink coffee in surprisingly companionable silence. Samuel can’t remember the last time he shared a morning like this with someone else. “There’s extra toothbrushes under the sink,” Prisha says when she finishes. “Help yourself to whatever in the fridge, if you wanna wait for Bess.” “Who’s waiting for me?” Samuel has to fight the urge to whip his head around like he’s been caught. Bess blinks at him, clearly surprised in mid stretch of her arms over her head; he drags his eyes away from the skin of her stomach. “Samuel.” He has to unstick his voice. “Hey sleepyhead,” he says. The familiar, dry sarcasm that always irks her does the trick. Bess’ expression clears from guarded to almost fond. “Glad you finally decided to join the land of the living.” Samuel can feel Prisha’s gaze swinging back and forth like she’s watching a tennis match. The back of his neck warms. “You stayed.”  It’s not quite a question, but the inflection is there in her eyes. He can only hold her stare and hope it’s saying what he wants. “You asked me to.” Bess looks vaguely shocked, the way she had that day in his apartment. When you sing, your soul is all over your face. (He stands by that assessment.) She’s unsure now– he can tell. So Samuel tilts his head, smiling. “Coffee? We’ve got things to do today.” “Things?” Bess echoes. But she sits down, accepts Prisha’s newly offered mug. Her roommate disappears into her room with a wave. “New notebook, new songs. Still want to write?” Samuel can see the wheels turning in her mind. He wonders how Bess feels about last night in the daylight, if she remembers everything. But this is the best out he can give her, if it turns out she can’t– or maybe doesn’t want to. “Yeah.” Bess smiles tentatively over the rim of her mug and he catalogues all its edges, to recall the next time they argue. The air feels heavy with everything they’re not saying, but Samuel can’t bring himself to mind. “I’d love to write with you.” There’s nothing he would rather do. 

[birdloaf]

Dead Evan Hansen is also super good!!!!

dead evan hansen

[markrosewater]

Did you design Alexander Clamilton? I know that you go to BroadwayCon with your daughter every year, and I've invented a story in my head that you were inspired by her love for Hamilton or something like that. I don't suppose that's the actual story?

I wanted a Clamfolk. The original design was Clamity Jane, but I didn’t think enough people would get the reference. I asked the Pit to come up with a good punny clan name. Chris Mooney suggested Alexander Clamiton. I said that was it, then he and Ari Nieh designed it.

[dearcomnormurphy]

I FORGOT TO TELL Y’ALL.

I met Alex at BroadwayCon and I couldn’t think of anything to say to him. So I ended up asking if the squats in Sincerely, Me got any easier on his knees. He said no lol. He said the stage is raked (and then explained to me that raked stage means it tilts forward) so his legs had to squat unevenly and he had to squat with one leg more than the other so it felt weird lol

[ratcarney]

who do you talk to most on tumblr? im always nervous to dm people here and don't know how often to message people,, so like how often do you message people? this seems like a stupid question, you're just well known and have a lot of friends.

this isn’t a stupid question at all!!!!!

well my best best best friend that i’ve made here on tumblr is @ivegotaheadlineforyou, who is endlessly sweet, unfairly talented, and such a dear. we’ve had a sleepover, seen hadestown together, and we’re presenting at broadwaycon together on an academic hadestown panel.

the other people i talk to very regularly are:

@joyfulsongbird @roadtohadestown @ominous-slut @songbirds-poet @hadestowntextpostsmain

they’re all fantastic hadestown blogs who are excellent friends and even better people.

i used to have an issue with messaging people first, too, but then i realized how much joy it brought me to receive messages, and how others most likely feel the same!! no one will be upset at you for reaching out and making friends! and of course, you can always talk to me either here or @jo.ratcarney on instagram!

i will never be annoyed with a message, and i will never ignore you! if you think im ignoring you, just send me another message/ask because chances are i just got distracted or your message was buried under others (i’ve been getting a lot of spam messages recently) and i forgot to answer. i’ll never not answer on purpose, i promise. i love you all and you may talk to me about anything <3

[phantomonabudget]

BACK IN BLACK!

We did a thing!  I’ve been away from the Phantom cosplay for nearly two years due to work, but am making a return for BroadwayCon 2020 and decided to do a practice.  This is the full question and answer live event from December 30th, 2019.

WARNING:  I have many opinions and pretty much shared all of them.  Also, if you want to see the Phantom swear a lot...this is your video.  YAY!

Topics include prosthetic makeup, Charles Dance interpretations, favorite Phantom actors, LND, restaged tour, cosplay stories, why I DON’T need to go to the hospital, and scaring small children (accidentally).  This was so much fun to do and I greatly appreciate everyone taking the time and asking so many questions.  Thank you all for tuning in and participating!

I’ll be speaking on the “So You Want to Be a Cosplayer?” panel at 10:00am, Friday January 24th, 2020 at BroadwayCon in NYC!

Interested in learning more about Phantom of the Opera cosplay, or want to know how to do other types of makeup?  Visit:

www.phantomonabudget.com www.facebook.com/potobudget www.instagram.com/phantomonabudget

[mackdizzy]

DONT 👏🏻 STAGEDOOR 👏🏻 A 👏🏻 SHOW 👏🏻 YOU 👏🏻 HAVENT 👏🏻 SEEN

(or stagedoor etiquette in general, because,,,,,y’all don’t know)

(Source: live 45 minutes from nyc, seen many many many shows, theatre major, knows how to respect human beings)

The stagedoor is a place for fans of a show to gather AFTER THEY HAVE SEEN IT to discuss with the actors the power of the show, a show they may have just fallen in love with or may be seeing for the fifteenth time, to give their (POS👏🏻IT👏🏻IVE) feedback to the actors, talk about special moments and stories, and yes, admittedly, meet their favorite actors because they’re their favorite actors.

DO:

—appreciate ALL actors. You don’t have to give the same screaming, fangirling, dying amount of love to every single ensemble member as you’re giving to Jonathan Groff, but do tell them how you loved the show, great job, etc. being “too generic” is way better than ignorance.

—appreciate musicians??? I’ve seen it a billion times. Pit player comes out, people READY TO APPLAUD just....don’t? And the musical waves shyly and runs off as fast as possible. What the fuck?!! Break the mold. CLAP. Say great job. Say I loved the music! If you recognize the instrument from the case, say “yay violinist!!!!” seriously, guys, I.....seriously.

—stick around. Usually the person that EVERYONE is waiting for will wait until the end to come out, but in case they don’t start shutting down, don’t just leave. There’s a chance other people are coming out and they deserve your love too.

—keep your hands to yourself. A LOT of times, an actor will imitate contact first. “Do you want a hug?” Putting their arm around you in photo, etc. don’t be the first to grab.

DONT:

—ask another actor “when will ___ come out/will ___ come out?” Y I KE S!!! If this is a question you want to ask, a security guard will be happy to go and investigate for you. Not another actor. No. No bueno.

—Talk too much about another show. This is also a keen indication to an actor you haven’t seen the show. Appropriate would be: “I loved your work in ___! Such an inspiration. You did a great job tonight too! I liked it when you (etc.)” Asking to sign memorabilia from another show is appropraite, but try to get a signature on your playbill too.

—ask “who did you play?” PLEASE,,,,,DONT,,,,,,,ASK,,,,,THIS,,,,,if you’re unsure (and you might be!) Be generic. “I loved the show! Great job!” And if you wanna be sneaky (I’ve done this) hand the page of headshots to sign. They’ll sign next to their own. This a good trick in general for remembering who’s signature you got.

—STAGEDOOR IF YOU HAVENT SEEN THE SHOW. WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP SAYING THIS??? Please wait until you’ve experienced what the actors want to share with you, what everyone around you has felt, before stagedooring. Don’t stagedoor if you’re seeing the show tomorrow. Don’t stagedoor if you’ve seen the bootleg a thousand times. If you saw the show a few days ago and you want to go back to SD because Andrew Rannells didn’t come out, that’s acceptable (but if an understudy/different actor comes out when you stagedoor, same respect as if you just saw them).

—tell an actor you saw the bootleg. Most notably at not-SD signings and such. Though I agree that actors should not scrutinize bootlegs if they refuse to make their art accessible for a winder audience, that’s a whole other argument, and their beliefs that nobody should film and distribute their show still deserve respect. In this case, it’s better to lie (Yes, I saw it) or (no, but I love the soundtrack and what’s available online). I got around the “have you seen the show?” Question at broadwaycon by telling him we’d seen it in the movie theater (which was true!!! But even if it wasn’t, you can pretend it was if you know it happened.)

—leave the show early (during finale/bows) to go stagedoor. The actors know what you’re doing, the security knows what you’re doing, they can probably even SEE WHO DID IT. It’s distracting, it’s rude, the entire row in front of me got UP AND LEFT DURING THE FINALE to go meet Brendon Urie, apparently it was happening so much he had to tweet about it.

—give “criticism.” NOT YOUR FUCKING JOB!!!! When we were 12, my best friend told Leslie Margarita her hair was “better in [matilda] than in real life”. she tweeted about it, following up with “yikes!!!!!!” Yeah. Don’t.

thanks for reading hope I didn’t bother u too much

[askthedustbowl]

hi, loves! since broadwaycon is over and the tarot cards are finished, mod payton and mod jo have a lot more time on their hands to devote to this au! to kick things off again, our askbox is open for oneshot prompts and headcanons! ask away!

[jackabelle73]

What is something amazing or interesting that happened to you since last Tuesday? Do you ever consider incorporating something that actually happened like that into your fics when you get the chance? If you do, would this incident make it in somewhere?

Umm… umm… honestly, I can’t think of anything. It’s been a pretty mundane week for me. The world around us is going crazy, but my life has been pretty routine.

I guess it’s more about the little things. My young niece serenaded me last weekend with “Girl on Fire.” I achieved my highest-ever daily step count since getting my Fitbit a month ago. Squishy smiles at me every time she wakes from a nap, like I’m her favorite person in the universe. My boss made a chocolate cake yesterday and gave me a big slice. Totally blew my diet. Totally worth it.

I have big plans for next month — going to NYC for 10 days. Attending BroadwayCon and then my mom will join me for the second half of the trip. We’re going to see Into the Woods, and I’ll finally take my mom to McNulty’s tea shop, which she’s been wanting to do for years. And museums, probably more Broadway shows.So I’m really looking forward to all that… but right now, life is kinda boring.

Thanks for sending an ask!

(P.S. — I have a post somewhere, about how I would cast the OUaT characters in a production of Into the Woods. Never started writing the fic. Maybe seeing it on Broadway will be the nudge I need to finally write it.)

[donnamurphydaily]

Donna Murphy shares some of her process when she’s asked to create a character for the stage. Her comments were part of a panel at BroadwayCon 2019, alongside Anthony Rapp and Melissa Errico, with the panel moderated by actress Ilana Levine.