itscurtains | Week Three

[Last week, some shit went down! Salieri's scene went off without a hitch, but the good mood didn't last. The first motive was a bit of a doozy, and yet it didn't even have anything to do with the eventual accidental death of Mumble Happyfeet! At least Sissi was already pretty much dating Death anyway, right? She's probably fine, wherever she is.

This week, new menus have been posted in the cafeteria. But, more importantly, it seems that other new information has emerged. Everyone wakes on Sunday with some new memories - or are they old ones? - floating around in their heads. Maybe there was something to your discussions of time travel after all. Maybe there was someting to the Wizard's knowledge of the future.

Regardless, you're still stuck in here. At least there's some new places to explore this week. Maybe you'll find something helpful.]

Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

(( Be sure to submit your memory regains and your AC for this week! Hester's office hours and the merch booth also remain available! ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ah, Antonio and I discussed the possibility as well, last week. I'm in favor of anything to pass the time a little easier.

[He starts taking off his shoes etc, to get ready for bed.]

When you say 'your show,' you don't mean... hers, do you? You mean the one before, with the... [You know, the murderers.]

Mm-hmm. Where I'm from. This one's not much like it, though - it's a retelling of a bunch of fairy tales. People are dying, but they do sometimes in fairy tales, too.

[It's weird to read a play when these people are, somewhere out there, doubtless just as real as he is, for whatever that's worth. But he can't do anything about them dying or not from here.]

This is the libretto - just the dialogue and the song lyrics - but the score's in the back. Music seems nice.

I'm lucky Johanna falls asleep before the climax of most stories, but I have left out some details in some of the fairy tales I've read her.

[He sucks in a breath and lets out a contented sigh.]

This man must be a talented composer. [He contemplates, for a moment.] What would you consider him, to you? A father? [Or a God?]

I never really thought about it before.

[Since coming here, the concept's come up once or twice. Still, the Balladeer frowns, letting the open script droop forward against his chest for a moment.]

I don't think he could be my father. Could he? He doesn't know I exist - honestly, I don't think I would wish that on him.

Well, it's not impossible for a man not to know he fathered a child. Under normal circumstances, that is.

[Benjamin settles back against the headboard of his bed, not getting under the covers just yet.]

But you could meet him one day, couldn't you? He's a man as real as any of us. [Or "the rest of us," if you want to split hairs, B.] What do you think you would say to him?

Sure, but these aren't normal circumstances. I don't think it's all that fair, to hold him accountable for writing a story. No one would ever do that, if they thought they were making people somewhere else, and folks need stories.

[It's not fair, either, to blame people for having bad things happen to characters in a story. That's all it is, to them. The Balladeer's not...angry.]

I don't know. It feels...weird, to think I could. [Far less possible than meeting the people here, in his mind, but he guesses you never do know.] I guess I'm curious about his thinking. When he...made me. There's not many people could even have a chance of finding out things like that. I wonder if...I'm how he thought I might be, or if he even thought about me being more than what was on the page at all. I only sing, in the show - I diverged from what he made me to be the second I spoke.

[Benjamin seems to chew that over for a minute or so.]

You know, speaking as a father... I think I'd personally be delighted, if my daughter outgrew my every expectation for her.

[He gives the Balladeer a smile.]

Besides, you're a charming man to talk to, Bal. There's no way he wouldn't be over the moon.

[The Balladeer smiles crookedly, pleased and a little embarrassed all at once.]

Thanks. That means a lot. I mean - maybe it doesn't matter, I'm not exactly his greatest work character-wise - but it's nice to think he might be happy with me.

Well, perhaps I'm biased, as your friend. But if your competition is a crew of murderers and fairy tale characters, then you may be higher in the running than you think.

Oh - no, this is actually really good! There's like a billion recurring musical motifs, and the characters are pretty interesting. There's a narrator in it too, just like me...but they killed him.

[Which...gives the Balladeer some thoughts, certainly. Some none too pleasant ones. But, nonetheless.]

Listen to this, this song's good.

[He flips back from the libretto to find the music.]

Mother cannot guide you.
Now you're on your own.
Only me beside you.
Still, you're not alone.
No one is alone.
Truly, no one is alone.

Week Three

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