itscurtains | THE FINAL ACT

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THE FINAL ACT

You've all dispersed into a lot of hidden areas, but you'll come together as a group once more. When you do, you'll find that the theatre doors are open.

For once, things are different inside. There are no podiums in the orchestra pit; instead, the curtain is open and the stage is lit. You'll notice there's a small set of stairs at either end, allowing you easy access up. Ten podiums have been moved onto the bare stage, arranged in a loose semi-circle facing a higher wooden platform. Atop it is a single chair, red-cushioned and gilded like a throne. In the vaguely circular space between the platform and the podiums is absolutely nothing: it's a deep, dark pit. The lighting in here is pretty good, but it still doesn't reach the bottom.

The podiums that once belonged to the dead are gone entirely. The bare lightbulbs that stood in their places, however, are clustered on either side of the stage, like a makeshift audience. They're finally turned off.

As the cast enters and begins to find their places, there's a sound like an invisible orchestra tuning up. Strings and woodwinds run scales in a quiet cacophony that eventually shapes itself into a wordless song. A man in jeans and a plain white T-shirt enters from stage right as they play, singing quietly as if to himself as he ascends the stairs onto the platform and turns out to survey the cast.

Velkommen, bienvenue, welcome...

The Balladeer falls quiet, looking thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head and taking his seat. Once there, he turns his attention to flipping through the papers in his hands. "Well. Let's get started, shall we?"

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[The steam continues to rise from the pit while she brushes past Balladeer to pace back and forth across the platform.]

Not like this. Not with secret plotting, the trying to steal my crew and the outside interference! [She stops and loudly snaps her fingers, sending fresh flames suddenly shooting up from the pit.

Her frustration might be showing, just a little.]

[He's quick to step out of her way, at least.]

...why did you bring me back like this? What did you think this was gonna be?

You- [...why is she wet?]

...If those ghosts weren't already dead I'd kill them myself.

[For a moment, the Balladeer looks gobsmacked.]

Uh...that's...not helping, exactly, guys?

[Granted, he doubts this conversation is going to go anywhere good, but making her mad just doesn't seem like it's going to help matters. Seems like it could easily end in fire.

He's still holding Hans's winter coat, having not stopped to put it on. He stares at it for a moment, then holds it out at arms' length.]

[...B, what is this. What are you doing.

She stares at him for a long few seconds, then at the coat held out to her but doesn't reach out to take it. She is, for at least the moment, a little confused and speechless.]

[.........oh god this is the worst mistake he's ever made, and now he can't take it back, may the earth swallow him up.

the balladeer is frozen in place. this is now a politeness stand-off.]

[ Oh, come on, Bal, it's not that bad. But he... kind of realized it the issue here. He's totally a Disney Assassin, I'm so sorry, Bal.

Hans whispers from off-stage. ]

You don't... have to wear it if you don't want to. I get it.

[it's not that he tried to be nice to the woman who's destroyed everyone's lives and now she's staring at him]

[ You're cute but you're not the brightest Narrator in the world, are you. ]

I think... what the Balladeer is trying to say here is... we can work together. And we should. To get the best ending for everyone.

[ A Golden Ending, as it were. Does this help, Bal? ]

Edited (he's trying) 2016-11-28 04:03 (UTC)

[look

this is legitimate kindness, she was not expecting this this should not be in the script

but finally, after what feels like at least twenty minutes of jumping through other tags, she slowly reaches out and takes hold of the edge of the coat]

[Once it feels like she's got hold of it, the Balladeer lets it go.

And then he takes a moment to collect himself. The moment feels like standing on a precipice. His voice starts a little tremulous when he begins singing, but he finds his footing quickly enough. This is just like before.

He told them they could still get their dreams. There's prizes all around. This time, he won't let anyone take over his song.]

Think about your shows, Player?
Think about the acts you do
How they never quite work out
You could try something new

With the audience behind you
Working towards something grand
Player...
Think about your shows

Don't you dare try to ironic echo me, Balladeer.

[Her grip tightens on the coat but she doesn't make a move to drop it. She finally looks away from Balladeer to her pit of fire, to the surviving cast members, how her newer crew members are starting to jump ship like rats on the Titanic.]

No, they may not understand
All the words,
All the same
They hear the music...
They hear the screams...

Oh - oh, but it's okay when you do it. Right, right.

[fuck you actually? but last time someone sang that at him, he got mad and lashed out and no one was happy. let's not do that.]

Think about your role, Player
Think about the script you're in
Don't you think we'd be ash
Were you written to win?

Do you think the moderators
Were ever on your side?

Player,
Think about your role.

[fine, fine, no more ironic echos.

there should be fire in her eyes and anger in her voice here but there's not. she looks to be deflating, just a little, under the unexpected weight and inevitability of his words combined with the last of her original round crew making their choices and her talk with Jez.]

I've created murder games and miracles
Incentives to touch
Granting life and taking life
Was it too much?
I came so close, my friend
I nearly came near

Edited 2016-11-28 05:56 (UTC)

(no subject)

tellthestory - 2016-11-28 06:13 (UTC) - Expand

[Hm... she can't do much more than she has with regards to the "stealing her crew" efforts, but...]

Uh, Leading Player?

[LP's attention jerks to Jezebel a little more sharply than she wanted to, a slight edge in her voice.]

What?

[Almost immediately she realizes what she sounds like and forces herself to relax, going back to her confident persona.]

What is it, Hell Princess?

You really want our story to end badly just... to be different from these other... games?

I never said I wanted to end it badly. [What's so bad about a willing human sacrifice???] I kept my word the last time and I'm plannin' on keeping it again.

No, I just... you said all the other ones had Golden Endings, right? What... does that mean, exactly? Before I get to my point.

It's a genre term. The mastermind is defeated and killed in some fitting way, the survivors escape and the dead are resurrected in one way or another, be it by some kind of God, a convenient portal to another dimension or some other dues ex machina.

The last group here didn't get a Golden Ending. How did the Audience like them?

They ate it up. [But she doesn't sound quite as confident in that as she has a lot of other things.]

[Well that's pretty interesting, isn't it?]

Are you sure? What kind of feedback did you get? You're the Showrunner, you must remember the reviews your show got.

It was a limited showing so there weren't a lot of them. [...Any. There weren't any.] But it was overall very well received!

How limited? It's probably a bad idea to judge the success of a show's ending on too small of an audience - especially when that's the one genre convention you seem interested in breaking.