Week Four

[stagemanagers]

[Last week, Gershwin High School Academy University saw its very first intentional murder! What a milestone! And right after Spongebob's No Murder party, too - that doesn't seem like it bodes very well for anybody's future.

You all wake up this morning with yet another new memory returned to you. You'll also find that the school's external doors have now unlocked. Congratulations! You're free! Unfortunately, you also seem to be entirely in the middle of nowhere. So maybe it's more of a symbolic victory.

Still, you should look around and do some investigation! Maybe you'll find a fun surprise.]

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! ))

Comments

[violentenvies]

[Salieri pauses in his own perusal of the gardens when he notices Angus, changing his course more towards him]

Monsieur Angus--good afternoon. [he'll lift a hand in greeting as he gets closer]

[mcfife]

Afternoon, Monsieur Salieri. [He briefly taps a fist over his heart.] We finally have a small comfort in our prison.

[violentenvies]

Indeed. [there's a wry smirk to the corner of his mouth at that] How generous of our captors, really.

[mcfife]

Something about these grounds feels dangerous to me. All this space, but no walls...it has to be another trap.

[Angus remembers something - he got it from the machine.]

Oh, and I found received this. I feel like this was meant for you, judging by the name on the cover. Do you know this man? [He pulls out an old script for a singspiel (he knows that name now) named "Abduction from the Seraglio"]

1/3 whoops forgot cw: dissasociation, auditory hallucinations, flashbacks

[violentenvies]

It certainly feels like it. [dry]

He tilts his head a bit, curious at what Angus received, about to make a comment--when the score is presented to him, and Salieri's voice dies in his throat.

Abduction from the Seraglio by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Salieri goes pale, breath stuttering in his throat as he stares at it. Without even touching it, he can feel the paper under his hands, the press of the cover under his chin, pushing his hea̛d̤̥ uncomfortably u̘p͉͚w̠ạ̼r͈d͕̤̞̫͈̯s̮▓--]

2/3

[violentenvies]

Where did you...[no, no, Angus already said, from that thrice D̴̥̮̅̌̆͂͋͆A̮͚͖̘̖̲̘͌͂͠Ṃ͈͉͕̍ͫ̃̊̚N̩̰̭͍ͭ̿͛̐̇͢Eͤ̆̄̅̎̕D̴̝̠͓̬͋̏̇ vending machine] That is, ah...yes. [Well, Maestro?]

I...do know him, yes--[Ah, Salieri, is that you?]--he's, ah...he's a colleague of mine. [Salieri reaches out to take it, having not yet taken his eyes off of it--Too many notes~?]

3/3

[violentenvies]

Thank you, Monsieur Angus. [his voice almost sounds a bit far away, detached, and he can hear the strains of music, weil ich dir entrissen bin, and there might be a slight tremble in his hand as he opens the cover, staring down at the overture within as moments from last night's dream wash over him, leaving him standing, still and shaking.

No, Maestro, after all the P̽̚A͐ȊNͨ́͗ͤ͑̕▒ you've caused us--!
Salieri can feel the guilt clawing at him, a sharp pain in his chest, he's done something, he caused this, but he doesn't know how--

Antonio? Is th▓t you?
How ar̤̤̻̘͇͔̀ͭ̓̀ͅê̷ͧ̓̾̓▒ ̀͜y̫͗ͤ͛̂͟ơ͔̯̭͗̔ͨ̉ͩ͋̀▓ǔ̦͈̈̎̽͟?]

[mcfife]

Monsieur?

[Salieri has paled at the sight of the script. Mozart must have been important - a friend? And enemy? Something else? Whoever he was, this man is in danger.]

Salieri?

[He's shaking, something it wrong. It's clear in his distant eyes. Angus reaches out for for the script, freezes, then retracts it.]

Ser Antonio? Are you well? Should I take it away? [Keeping eyes locked, Angus tugs on his shirt, towards a bench.] You should sit down.

cw: more disassociation + flashbacks

[violentenvies]

[Salieri distantly feels the tugging and moves where he's directed thoughtlessly, the movement pulling him slightly out of whereever he's gone mentally--

Ah, Monsieur Angus is saying something to him and he should really respond, shouldn't he? It's rather rude to (My death is here)

to not reply--]

Ah, y...yes. [faintly, trying to focus on Angus, on his voice, despite the strains of music (Lacrimosa, Dies irae--) that feel like they drift cloyingly past his ear]

It's beautiful...

[murmured, quietly--it's the music of a requiem, a song for the dead, but like everything Mozart does, it's sublime...]

[mcfife]

[Angus sits beside Salieri with a growing anxiety within him. It was bad enough that he felt responsible for what the SQUIP did, he didn't do enough, but causing this responsible older man distress would be the worst. Not when Angus has vowed to look after the others more carefully.

He grips Salieri's forearm.] Can you breathe?

[violentenvies]

[the grip on his arm pulls his attention back like a tether, grounding, and Salieri closes his eyes, his grip on the score turning clutching as he tries to take a slow, deep breath]

Yes. Yes, I....I can, I'm....[he swallows hard, focusing on the hand on his arm, the bench he's now sitting on, his feet on the ground. The music continues, but quieter, softening with the sound of the quiet sobs of Mozart's wife that accompany it.]

I apologize. [at least he is able to get that out, though his voice is hoarse]

[mcfife]

No. I should apologize. [He can't take the script out of his hands without tearing it, unfortunately.] Does the script itself cause you distress?

[Or Mozart? Or someone else?]

cw: mild auditory hallucinations

[violentenvies]

I...no. [that's not exactly correct. but also he doesn't want it to be taken away.]

It, ah...the man who wrote it. He's a...colleague of mine. [another VAST understatement for everything that Mozart is and was, and there's another voice that drifts past his ear-S'il faut mourir-and he shudders a little, clutching a bit tighter at that score--Autant vivre à en crever]

He's...

[mcfife]

[Sir, Angus thinks you might be a bit gay for this Mozart man.]

Mozart. I've seen his name before. [Another composer, one who probably wrote good music if he's mentioned in the yearbook.]

[violentenvies]

...you...know of him, then? [he doesn't look at Angus, still staring down at that score, clutching it tightly]

[mcfife]

No. [He can only guess from this script.] I've seen it in the yearbook and in the library. I almost forgot about him until I saw his name during my research.

[violentenvies]

...I see.

[Yes, of course. That makes perfect sense. Salieri quiets for a moment, pulling back, putting on his Court face: calm, controled]

Monsieur Angus, if you don't mind...I would like to keep this.

[mcfife]

[His hands grip each other.]

Are you sure? You might want to lie down for a moment.

[violentenvies]

[he shakes his head immediately in the negative]

No. No, there's no need, I...

...I'm fine.

[mcfife]

[ANGUS DOES NOT BELIEVE THIS MAN.

He stays there, waiting. Hoping that things will be better.]

...I have made more potato soup last night.

[violentenvies]

[Salieri glances over at that]

Ah...did you?

[mcfife]

Yes.

I added green onions to it. For flavor.

[It's progress. He's learning. It's a different topic.]

[violentenvies]

[there's something that pulls at the corner of his mouth at that, a small, barely there smile]

That was a good choice. Green onions and potatoes go together quite well.

[mcfife]

Anything else? I threw in some carrots again, but I believe that it is missing flavor.

[At least he's been practicing what you taught him.]

[violentenvies]

Carrots are good. Herbs can be helpful for adding flavor as well. Parsley, basil...such things. Onions.