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Rep dazedly found himself ushered to makeup by well-meaning smiling people who for whatever reason kept calling him Francis. He didn't care for their positivity in the face of finding out the last person he had left had apparently knocked up the division assistant without him realising. Guess it explained them being allowed to use her office. And Killer. And all sorts of s**t. Was this even a ******** illusion or were elements of it real?

"What the ******** is going on?" he snarled as some b***h had the gall to start brushing his hair and complaining about how matted it was. She gave him a blank look before stating.

"Oh character acting, I see Fran, very novel. Loving that accent by the way."

Rep was on the razor edge of breaking point. "Where the ******** are the captives?"

The woman gave him a very odd look in the mirror. "I don't act Fran, you know that, I've not read that far ahead in the script."

((Name: Francis Carter
History : American born Francis specialises in playing foreign characters in low budget sitcoms, This is Halloween was his first big breakthrough. Francis lives wherever his current job takes him with his second wife Susan and little boy Lawrence. His hobbies include going to the gym, interpretive dance and he is a staunch vegan. ))

"Oh, honey, where are you going? Sit down! Sit down! We gotta get you in make up, my dear!" An older woman was grabbing onto Hazel's arm and was being forced into the seat.

"Lay off lady! OR I'LL SACK YOU ONE!" Hazel snapped at the woman and yanked her arm back.

"Oh, youuuu~ are really getting into characters aren't you, Rita?" The woman laughed as she began painting freckles onto Hazel's face.

Bix was hustled to a makeup chair where he sat, still gaping and dumbfounded, as no one yet came to attend to him. Pictures were taped around the edges of his mirror, him in sunglasses with dark hair and holding Starbucks. A dark haired, dark-eyed him in a smoldering headshot. There was even a picture of that doppleganger of him on some sort of red carpet with a woman who looked like a model.

"Wh-" He heard whispering behind him.

"He's method okay. Always method." A high pitched voice hissed carefully. "Always call him sir and oh you don't even want to know what he did to the last girl- OH!" The lanky sweater wearing woman threw up her hands and turned red when he noticed her. By her side was a shaking young man with thick glasses. "Mr. Jones! Good morning it's lovely to.. ahh..." She paused, nervously darting her eyes. "Well.. here's your new assistant. Your wig and contacts seem to already have been done soo.." She shoved the young man forward and hustled away.

"Uh.. hi." Bix looked at the glasses wearing man with a grimace. He patted his hair. "Uh.. wig.."

"S-sorry sir! Ah.." The young man, after his stumble, started to hustle around him a thousand miles an hour. "It's an honor to work with you, really. Bix is my favorite on the show and you are just so convincing as the overly sensitive, confidence lacking, everyman."

"Wait ... the WHAT?" Is that what he was?

"I mean! Oh.. no.." the young man looked terrified that Bix would do something to him. His voice dropped to a nervous whisper. "..oh god the last assistant. Please don't hit me. Please don't scald me with coffee. Please don't.."

The young man seemed to have devolved into babbling.

Rep wasn't keen on being ignored and it seemed this woman was a ******** master at it, making vague statements of assent without answering any of his questions and staying focused on the task at hand. Which seemed to involve one hundred percent too much touching for him. Especially his hair, which made his skin crawl.

he hissed, only to be given an irritable look by the make up attendant "Listen Fran, you can't keep messing up my wigs like this, do you know how much those ginger wigs cost? They are going to start taking it out of your pay and you won't be able to take little Lawr to Disney this year."

Before Rep could respond to any of this mad tirade the woman had slipped a few kirby grips and the like out of the way and in front of the mirror lifted his entire hair clean off his head. Underneath he had short-cropped mousy coloured brown hair.

His jaw dropped.

"WHIT THE ********> he screamed, almost falling out of the chair.

The make up assist rolled her eyes, as if she had to deal with these sort of dramatic actors every day, and took the wig aside to place it on a dummy.

"What the ******** is going on? Why was Harrison kissing Clarice?" Another odd look. "You mean Paul, Fran? You knew already, you spend half your time in here honey complaining about the guy. Paul is an idiot this, and doesn't deserve that. You are always complaining about all the kissing scenes, saying the director hates you?"

He looked blankly at the mirror.

"Do you want me to re-do your freckles?"



((Name: Francis Carter
History : American born Francis specialises in playing foreign characters in low budget sitcoms, This is Halloween was his first big breakthrough. Francis lives wherever his current job takes him with his second wife Susan and little boy Lawrence. His hobbies include going to the gym, interpretive dance and he is a staunch vegan. ))

"Oy! Cool yo tits, sis!" Otto grouched, whining as he was shook violently. Mercy came in the form of Makeup Crew as they pulled her away.

"Oli-oop~" He teased with a handsome grin as she called for him. "Don't do that "in character off set" s**t. It's creepy as Hell."

He took another large sip of his Caramel macchioto with a wistful sigh. "Right.. now about this shitty script..." He pulled aside one of the stage hands and started to complain.

Melvin didn't know what was going on, and being far less hysterical than anyone else, a slender woman took him by the shoulders and set him down in a seat. Yeah. Sitting right now sounded like a good idea. Looking at his weapon, he looked around as other people shouted and the rest were being dolled up. "Am I in a movie?" He asked, looking up to her, flat out confused.

You were taken through a portal. You were in the desert. You saw giant bugs. You are in a cave now being prepped for a stage.

How was he sure anything was real? Was that pod real? Was that broken place in crumbling pieces real? All things before seemed just as crazy as now that he wasn't really sure.

"Mr Quinton, are you alright?" The woman asked, reaching up to take off his glasses.

Melvin watched as his glasses were taken, and then looked around, noticing nothing was blurry.

"Um...are there wires in the back of my head?" He asked the girl next to him, turning around slightly in his chair to show her. This was The Matrix, right?


(((Melvin
"RL Name": Abe Quinten
History: Discovered through his skateboarding feats, Abe moved to television in the hit series No Supervision, popular for outrageous stunts and elaborate pranks. After suffering many broken bones and surgeries, he then broke into comedy movies, but only managed minor roles. This is Halloween is his first large role and was introduced late in the season.))

"I'm done now," Sydney said sharply, shocking the man that was doing her make up.

"Rachel? Honey, did I say something? Oh dear, please don't tell me you've broken up already!! Oh sweetie, I had no idea!!" He seriously looked like he was going to burst into tears.

She stared at him as she stood. "Suck it up," she said coldly when he kept blubbering. Then she walked away, heading for the first person she trusted--Wilson.

"What is going on here, Wilson?" she asked as she pretty much slipped herself into the circle. "Do any of you know?" she asked, glancing at his friends.

This…. Was all part of a set? The question whirled around in leon’s head as h ran into the prop room, to redress and freshen back up, he was still far too busy holding onto Robert like a lifeline to let him go. Thoughts about the mission came rushing back, they had to go save otto and sasha and the others, what about them?

“Oh Luke, you can’t wait till the end of the shoot to touch Beau can’t you?” a person came from what the life hunter could only explain as through a door in the cave wall that creaked open loudly before flopping back closed, as if the door was never there to begin with. “and your shirt, no nonono no Huffington baby, we need to get you redressed stat bube.” He said with a swish of his arm before dragging the chainsaw wielder away in his stupor and down the hall away from all the harsh bright high beams of the outside scenes. People milling about with audio and visual equipment and gofers dashing around madly with coffee and refreshments for what had to be the stage crew and the other members. It was all too much as the hunter dragged his feet behind the other male and into a section and a chair emblazoned with the L Huffington in black magic marker.

The sudden adjustment of dark, damp, and dirty cave to a clean, bright and airy room was a big switch. Plush chairs lined against the wall and the chair he sat in was lined with others in a neat row, empty of a person but not of mementos around the mirrors edge. Leon stared like a fish out of water at the photos of all the other hunters with him, smiling at landmarks, pictures of them waving cutout weapons around and the plethora of pictures of him and Robert hanging out. There were no uniforms, street clothes and dresswear at one picture at what looked like a formal event . it wasn’t so much the pictures that bugged him, it was the closeness of it all, there was no personal space in them at all. Not to mention he could not recall ever taking any of the photos in question. “what is that there?” he asked innocently at the photo as the person continued to pull and tug at clothing on the rack before holding it up and turning his nose away from it in disgust.

“tch, that was from your two month anniversary with the show luke.” He said with a think lisp and continued to run his dainty hands through the rack until he practically squealed at the item he found, enough to make Leon wince at the sound that no human should ever make. “Oh luke, this shirt is prefect for you, jus the right fit but it needs more tears in the fabric.” He continued, making a cluck sound before batting at him with the fabric and causing leon to wince at the sudden attack. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to artistically damage your clothing, all there Armani exchange and dolce and gabana aren’t cheap don’t ya know and all the dirt I have to put on it.” He said with a quiver in his voice as he clutched the shirt dramatically to his chest. “You are damn lucky to wear this stuff luke, and to have it fit so well on that toned body of yours." He continued to scold him and gave the guy a pat on the chest.

The pat was just a little too long for his taste as leon couldn’t hold back the snarl building in his throat. “what in blazes are you doing?” he barked back quickly and was ready to land a punch in on the poor guy as he flinched and scrambled backwards behind the clothing rack. “ah I know luke I know, you’re with Bubba, you two are just so well together.” He continued to ramble on and on

“Bubba?”

“You’re boyfriend Luke deary.” He answered back without batting an eye.

“WHAT?”

"Not shut up and hold still, i need to re tint your beard scruff back to the right color."