Spongebob Squarepants (
employeeoftheyear) wrote in
itscurtains2021-06-26 05:19 pm
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The sky shines differently today than it did yesterday
[Perhaps to the surprise of no one, there is no after party after that trial. Two children were dead. Two children were dead over a simple accident and the Wizard cared more about himself than anyone else. But they won't give up, they can't give up. They had to keep fighting until everything's been set right.
At the Lobby ofrenda later that night, there are six origami pieces accoupling the other memorials. A penguin, a rose, an octopus man, computer, a music note, and the last one are of a boy and girl holding hands. Along with that there is a plate of strawberry cupcakes with blueberry icing and a note that reads:]
There is still hope and love in the world
Never let The Wizard make you think otherwise 💗
At the Lobby ofrenda later that night, there are six origami pieces accoupling the other memorials. A penguin, a rose, an octopus man, computer, a music note, and the last one are of a boy and girl holding hands. Along with that there is a plate of strawberry cupcakes with blueberry icing and a note that reads:]
Never let The Wizard make you think otherwise 💗
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And he just sort of...sits there]
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Open it?]
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Spongebob?
[Salieri lifts his head, looking around for him--where is his sponge son???? Is he here??]
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Here.
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...thank you, Elsa. [his voice is a bit hoarse, worn and quiet. But he does reach out to accept that tea]
That's...very kind of you.
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I'm only returning the kindness you've given all of us these past weeks. After... after everything, you deserve to have someone take care of you, Salieri.
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But at that, his expression softens, looking up at her. He's going to try valiantly to muster up a smile, and a bit of one appears, curling the corners of his mouth]
...I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to say that I can take care of myself, so I'll keep it to myself and simply thank you again. Though I will point out that you've been a kind, caring friend to me as well. [he reaches out to pat the seat next to himself, inviting her to sit]
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At the tea, he looks at it for a moment, before reaching out to wrap his hands around it]
Look at that. I didn't even have to trick you into it this time. [he's making an attempt to affect that dry tone, but it falls incredibly flat.]
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[Same here, bud... same here... He just. Sits there for a bit.]
...About... in there.
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1/3
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3/3
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The SQUIP's. Cassandra's.
No, Varian's.
He wanders over to Salieri's side, watching it spin soullessly.] He really fixed it.
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...fixed what?
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[With his hands, Varian has created something beautiful.]
The one that the SQUIP had attempted to make. It's...quiet a melancholy sound.
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The piano is not firewood yet
We try to remember, but sometimes forget
That the heart beats in threes just like a waltz
And nothing can stop you from dancing
Rise from the cold depths of your grief
I tell you you're not dying
Everyone knows we're going to live
So we might as well keep trying
[ It's a little halting, wavering, his voice clear of tears at least but interrupted here and there as he has to steady himself, to believe the words coming out of his own mouth well enough to convince Antonio too. ]
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There's something in Salieri's chest that lurches as he listens. Orpheus's voice is clear in the night, a bright beacon despite the simplicity of the tune. It feels like it wraps around his shoulders; a warmth that the part of him clutching to that mask he's wearing wants to shrug off desperately, as if that could defend against it. Because the song pulls at him, reaches between the cracks of his old mental armor that he's spent years constructing and pushes them aside like they're nothing but thin paper.
Despite how part of him wants to refuse, that to pull away, it's those words, sung to the evening sky with its mismatched stars, press inside him, filling his chest with something tight and emotional. They remind him of warmth, of that which he's gotten from others over the past four weeks; given to him freely and without any request for reciprocation, even. From the gentle touches and the hugs to the laughter to the tears. The encouragement; the support he was given even when his art failed him. It reminds him of all these things, and then, worst of all, whispers softly to him of something somehow far more dangerous than all of them combined:
]
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If Orpheus looks at Salieri's face, it's tilted downwards. But perhaps he'll catch the glint of dim light off of the tears that drip off Salieri's chin as he cries, quietly this time]
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The piano is not firewood yet
But the cold does get cold
So it soon might be that
I'll take it apart, call up my friends
And we'll warm up our hands by the fire
Love what you have
And you'll have more love
You're not dying
Everyone knows it's going to hurt
But at least we'll get hurt trying
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Eurydice doesn't know. But she does know that it gets dark and lonely at night. So she'll come sit beside him later in the evening, her shirt and skirt still stained with dirt. She's not sure if Salieri is upset with her for holding him back -- but if it's obvious he isn't, she'll scooch a little closer, and gently press her shoulder up against his. ]
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He'll stay there, a moment, letting the night surround them before he finally speaks, voice so quiet as to almost not be heard]
...thank you.
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Still, she doesn't expect him to thank her. Not for what she'd done earlier. ]
Don't mention it. [ a beat. Eurydice closes her eyes, blinking away a few stray tears. (Those are for later.) ] I'm sorry.
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...I'm sorry. [ She's not quite sure what, otherwise, to say. ]
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I think I should be saying that to you, if anything.
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…Because…or what you…tried to do?
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