#run crew

[montygatorguy]

some of my favorite moments from high school theatre in my first year

fall (we did the crucible)

- when our run crew chief licked an old dry erase marker he found backstage

- having to stand behind the set and make stair noises in the first scene

- eating a bag of goldfish for dinner in the chorus room

- taking naps on the benches during the courtroom scene and getting up to watch the ending

- our stage manager watching us from the furniture mez and coming down to say hello

- watching the guy who played john hale do a silly little dance backstage after leaving the courtroom scene

spring (we just finished this up! we did curtains)

- having the target from one of our set pieces fall on my wrist like 3 times in a row

- dancing to thataway backstage with the actors

- getting a shout out from one of the seniors i made friends with during my circle and absolutely crying my eyes out

- one of the run crew guys on my side bringing this little hippo plush and having him backstage

- cioffi having his mic bug out and watching our run crew chief go out ON STAGE to fix it

- cheering so loud after each show and just jumping up and down and having a great time

- watching my friends bring a boat on stage

[pyrolikesfire]

if the world is a stage then who is the tech crew????

[kwindle-dindle]

Actors: Life is like a hurricane, down in duck berg

Actually whats happening: Lighting is missing 10+ ques the audio is broken, Runcrew kids are lying dead back stage, stage manager is on fire, the director is nowhere to be seen.

[kaydendoesmc1]

Run Crew doesn’t get enough respect

For those who don’t know, Run Crew is a part of the technical aspects of theatre. Typically, they put set pieces on and off stage, assist with getting props to the actors, and sometimes help with quick changes if needed. They have to do all of this without being seen.

Run Crew isn’t a position that is recognized enough and when I’d tell people what I’m on they wouldn’t necessarily respect me because it’s a “small role”. Run Crew only gets respect from other theatre kids. I don’t know why I made this, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Thank you for coming to my Kay talk.

[craftgremlin]

Theatre person chiming in! Many shows literally need an intermission for staging purposes as well. No intermission can really limit what is possible on stage sometimes.

I did a production of singing in the rain and we had the Act 1 finale (literally the song singing in the rain) have actual rain pouring onstage while MC sang and danced.

We needed all of intermission to dry that sucker off, and while yes we could have done the whole rain effect without actual water, the water was bitchin and really fucked and is the main part of that shows staging I wouldn't want to change. Intermission gives theatres waaaaayyy more leeway to do really cool shit. Rain in movie? Visually good but not that exciting. Actual rain on stage? Holy shit how are they doing that and the actor splashing and the sound of the water hitting the deck was goddamn magic!

Also seconding earlier statements that actors need a break too after intense physical activity under lights and costumes and shit (though sadly the run crew is often not able to do a bathroom break during this time, we are usually able to time breaks if we need them during the show itself between our personal cues.)

Unpopular theatre opinion: intermissions are bad and I wish we could just have a 2.5 hour performance uninterrupted, like people manage perfectly well at movie theaters. It always just kills my emotional immersion. Set changes and costume changes valid, but the art form could adapt in other ways. Or making the intermission experience somehow also part of the performance? Just something more interesting and intentional than dumping people out into the lobby to buy m&ms.

[cosmicwhoreo]

The Captain's right hand Blue Sponge Cookie

Don't let his humorous disposition fool you, Blue Sponge Cookie didn't get his high rank position on the most respectable ship of the republic just by kissing up to it's captain. He's a witty little bugger who could talk his way out of hell on pure charisma alone. Some of the crew even claim that's how he's survived this long. Which is why his true job aboard, is to keep the ship's morale high. As while he is often the subject of teasing, he's well ingrained with the entire crew as a close confidant and friend. Plus, he's terrifyingly adept at duel-wielding Blunderbusses... both of which he's affectionately named "Moby jr" and "Moby sr". Extra below cut

27 year old Trans man (he/him)

Was hired by Caviar the same time as Staghorn

Like most the crew, he has a tattoo (Of the sun, on his back)

Despite his lanky figure, he's actually fairly tough

Is often the guy who likes spreading scary rumors about the crew, if only for a laugh (He likes to imply that looking into his eyes will turn you to stone)

Has a sibling bond with Staghorn (they bully each other often)

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[mermaidstede]

rhys + taika pulling some of the most embarrassing dad moves of all time

[bizarrelittlemew]

calling it right now that season 3 starts like this

[adelphenium]

aucember day 3: nickeovi + pirate au 🏴‍☠️

[bikananjarrus]

just...thinking about how zeb was picked up by kanan and hera, two kids (basically), one of whom was also a survivor of genocide, and another whose species has been persecuted, enslaved, etc. repeatedly, and they helped him. zeb, who hadn't seen young people of his own species in so long, and as an older being, he's probably unsure of his place in the galaxy after what happened on Lasan, and having young people trust in him, look up to him, rely on him, that probably made zeb feel so needed and wanted. like, they're experienced and confident, and far wiser and more mature than maybe someone their age ought to be, because of what they've gone through. so he probably doesn't think he can teach them much.

and like zeb knows they're young; but just thinking about when that really hit him, how young they are. and how he probably vowed to look out for them, as much as they look out for him. like, thinking about how much fear he probably had in calling any place home again, after what happened to his last home. but these two young adults gave him a home, a safe place to land; they gave him their friendship and gave him a little found family to call his own after everyone he lost. and he's happy and proud to belong to a family again.

[pyrolikesfire]

dont be surprised if i collapse from exhaustion just kinda drag me to where i need to be

[luchsammain]

[monochromatic-ahhhh]

hm so

"No. You saw what it did to Azure."

Anyone else wondering if Wukong, in this moment, feared that he'd have to watch MK fade away like Azure did

That he might have imagined this but with MK and did not like the image it created

How he should have felt relieved when the power didn't consume the kid as he thought it might

But then this kid goes on to say "I can fix this" and although he doesn't tell them how, Wukong has an inkling of an idea and he hopes it isn't what the kid is considering

But no, he doesn't lose MK to the Jade Emperor's power. He loses him to destiny.

and when he does, the last thing he sees of MK is this

And it looks nothing like losing Azure.

[doodleswithangie]

@danielhowell, thanks for making a show that's equal parts devastatingly hilarious and achingly poignant 🖤🧡

[Image Description: Stylized fanart of Daniel Howell performing his stage show. Inked in black with a gradient orange background behind him, Dan screams into his microphone, "WE'RE ALL DOOMED!" End ID]

[cosmicwhoreo]

The Captain's Left Hand Staghorn Coral Cookie

Also known infamously as "The Captain's Left Boot Knife", Staghorn Coral Cookie's job first and foremost is to keep the crew in line.

Whether that's as simple as keeping sailors on top of drills and attacks, or even so far as cutting down any mutiny before it can even take root; Staghorn's nothing short of diligent.

But, they aren't without their own mischievous streak. They're just better adept at knowing when and where to use it. And while they also carry their own firearm, they prefer close combat. Choosing to duel-wield knives they've named both "Ahab". (To avoid confusion between the two obviously) Extra below cut

29 year old nonbinary (They/Them)

Was hired by Caviar the same time as Blue Sponge

Like most the crew, they have a tattoo (Of the moon, on their back)

Really into wood carving, which is the *real* reason they always seem to have at least two knives on their person... And They are VERY good at it (plus it's the reason why they have so many scars and cuts along their hands cuz they nick themselves often-)

Short, but has a stocky build hiding under all that cloth

Has a sibling bond with Blue Sponge (they bully each other often)