Summit Theater side effects may vary

fringe festival, whatever time!

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Ushering was not a difficult assignment by any stretch, but truthfully Richard was in it much less for the challenge than he was for the atmosphere. He had been here once before and proven that he was no use whatsoever when it came to improv or acting of any intensity, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate that of others. And everything here was fresh and exciting, the perfect sort of place for watching people create and admire and flourish.

And bonus, even though he didn't get to sit and watch, he did get to see a lot of what was happening on that stage. Moments of pause let him admire it quietly when he could, and even when he wasn't observing enough to get the whole scope of it, he could still laugh with the jokes and enjoy the applause of the appreciative audience.

A little distracted, though, by an ache in his right hand that crept from there into his wrist and then further still up his elbow. He hardly noticed it at first, a pain that was barely there until he touched it. It didn't get worse, per se, when he touched it more firmly, but rubbing his fingers down his arm in the dim lighting of the audience section hurt all the more for all it didn't reveal to him any cause.

Between shows he didn't see anything and shrugged it off--getting older was one of those things that came with strange moments. Bodies in rebellion, all of that. It didn't feel dire, just a bit annoying and he wondered if maybe he'd gotten a bit of a sunburn earlier or... Ah well. He went back to his duties and chatted up anyone who would let him before they inevitably fled to the next bit of joy they could snatch up.

And so it went, the next show producing the same feelings in people, laughter and surprise, and he was right along with them until the strange ache was deep enough he couldn't seem to alleviate it. But again, he couldn't seem to figure out if there was a source to it or not. Perplexed, aware there was nothing the last time he'd looked, he stepped out into the lobby after the show, near the door, thanking people as they left and making sure they were oriented toward the exit...

Then felt a zip of alarm when this time he looked down at his arm and there was a faint creeping blush hue along the back of his hand and into the wrist. Not a rash, but a bruise. Distracted by this, he failed to realize someone was speaking to him. Asking him, the usher, something?

Hello, it was Vidya, asking where the bathroom was! Not because she was in urgent need of it, but she definitely wanted to go look herself over in the mirror before heading out into the thick of the crowd. Her hair, while flourishing in its natural curly state, was unruly with the springtime air.

So she approached the man that looked like he knew what way was up and now in the ornate theatre. Asked once, and then, when she didn’t get an answer, furrowed her brows and glanced in the direction of his eye line. Oh! Ow?!

Elderly people bruised easily, but that seemed... severe? And he seemed perplexed by it.

She was suddenly doubtful of her assumption that he worked here.

”Oh-“ She tried to backtrack.

It was then that he realized his eyes were not the only ones on him. The woman's voice broke through the distraction in a single syllable, and with it came the cascade of backlogged information, her voice rising in a question. And where...?

Self-conscious in a way that couldn't really be helped at the moment, he folded his hand over the unexpected bruise as if to hide it and dropped them in a clasp in front of him.

"So sorry, what was that?" But he could not help but have his mind elsewhere, wondering at things he did not have answers for.

"She asked where the fucking bathroom is," said a pissy passing patron who had definitely decided she was going to seat herself.

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cameo?? done?? I think

She could just walk away, right? And just let this be one of those awkward encounters that she let keep her from sleep in memory. She smiled apologetically, her white teeth stark against blushing cheeks. He was asking her to repeat herself, which was already mortifying to loudly ask!

But then! Someone else, apparently, had already overheard. And helpfully snapped for all in the vicinity to hear. Eyes wide, Vidya glanced at the woman, then back at the man. ”Um! Sorry- I-“ Abort, abort, abort.

Head shaking, Vidya made to brush past the man, intent on maybe just leaving the entirely building?!

A burst of hostility interrupted the attempt at gathering his thoughts and Richard felt a tingle of discomfort along his scalp that he could not explain.

But it was small enough to ignore, the frustrated woman already past him and the one who had tried to ask him a simple question closer still. He felt bad to let her go without at least a little direction, and he shook his head, hand out. "No, no, it's alright. Please, it's just this way," he began to instruct, feeling his mind was divided on everything. But he had a job to do and he didn't want her to fail to find what she needed.

To ignore him and run away would probably make things worse. So she stopped short, sucking in her lip to bite down on it in an apologetic grimace as she looked once more at the man’s bruised skin.

”Okay! Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ Her head shook, and she glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the woman, ”I don’t know her.”

If not for the ache of the top of his head, Richard probably would have been easier to dismiss the hostile woman, but something about her lingered with him for a moment even as it began to fade...

"It's quite alright," he assured, not wanting a patron to leave on such a sour note. "Some people have little patience. Thank you for having some with me, I was a bit more distracted than I intended to be. Bathroom, yes?"

Just to get everyone on the same page, and to ground himself away from the temptation to look at his hand again and the mystery there.

Kind. Overly kind. It made her feel worse, genuinely, for troubling him. But he was kind and understanding, reminder her of a grandfather. So she let him do his job and lead her.

”Yes! I was trying to hunt down a mirror.” She admitted sheepishly.

He felt... better. Not great, but better as the separated somewhat from the bustle of the crowd. A glance at his hand and while it was still bruised, it didn't feel like it had. Perhaps just too long of a day. Getting older was full of surprises.

"If you just want a mirror," he pondered, the bathroom a bit away, "I actually might have a suggestion." He looked to her to see if she would just insist on the simplicity of a bathroom instead.

A change of plans. If their interaction had bee simpler, she might have insisted. But he was an usher and already inconvenienced, so she was open to his suggestions if it made his life easier. ”Oh?” She questioned, a touch curious.

"This way," he said, distracting himself from his... well, distractions, by dropping into a conspiratorial tone. "I found this earlier while on a tour of the place, I think it will be nicer than the bathroom."

Down a hall that didn't currently lead to anything going on, it was on the way back towards the back stage but not so out of the way that they were trespassing. An easy path, more or less unobstructed by others.

And ahead, on the wall, a full length mirror with a neatly ornate frame. "Truth be told, I rather fancy it, but I don't think I could fit it in my pocket." This, an introduction to the find.

She couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at her lips as his tone shifted. Almost-a-secret, though she doubted the man would lead her somewhere that she wasn’t supposed to be. So she followed, admiring the ornate interior of the theatre, appreciating how ostentatious it was.

It became apparent what he was leading her to only a few moments later. The smile that his joke inspired still lingered on her face as she stepped closer to it, revealing her full reflection. Definitely better than the harsh florescence of the bathroom mirror.

”I wouldn’t tell anyone if I saw you hauling out of the back.” She said. And though her eyes lingered on her hair in a cursory check, it felt a little... awkward to do a full inspection in front of him! So, naturally, her eyes fell to his reflection beside hers. His hand, specifically.

”Ah, but your hand.” She said with a small frown, trying to make light of it, but also clearly wondering. Just! You know. Was he okay!

He laughed in delight at her willingness to turn a blind eye to theft.

Pleased enough with her moving to look in the mirror herself, he lingered, but he did have that sense he should leave her be soon enough. But before he could make his excuses and tell her she was radiant, she was realizing what he was trying to forget. They both looked at his hand, and he conceded that he could not entirely hide it.

Lifting it up to look at it again, running his fingers of his other hand over the back of it, he made a small 'hmmm.' It actually didn't hurt to touch, not anymore. Whatever lingering pain had been with him was entirely gone, but he couldn't explain it.

"It doesn't hurt, it's alright. Must have just bumped something. I get more and more fragile by the year, I swear." But a toothy smile took so much of the tragedy of getting older out of it.

He wasn't... that old, was he? Though clearly due for a check up. He'd have to call his GP in the morning.

Weather he was lying to spare her unnecessary concern, or he truly wasn’t hurt, it was hard to know. Either way, she pitied him for having to deal with it. Maybe because he was so kind to her despite everything else! And, in general, she pitied the elderly and frail.

Getting older was horrifying to think about! But she found comfort in knowing that when she aged, it was likely to be graceful and free of illness.

Not that she could offer any of those thoughts to this man for comfort.

Really all she could do was jut her lip and make a small sound of sympathy, stepping back from the mirror to pat his shoulder.

“Well I hope it heals quickly for you!” She said, accustomed to these types of well wishes. Non committed, but well intentioned.

“I’ll let you get back to work!” She added after a moment, gesturing back up the hall, “Thank you for your help.”

She was kind. And thankfully, even if he didn't know it for sure just yet, he would be fine.

"Indeed," he agreed to the easy dismissal, not going to smother a stranger who clearly was just looking for a moment to herself. Leave her to her mirror and he could go back to the ushering--and consider going home earlier than planned. They would see how things were going.

"Be well, have a good evening!"