It's Curtains Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stagemanagers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itscurtains2016-11-26 11:26 am
stagemanagers) wrote in itscurtains2016-11-26 11:26 am
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?"
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?"
no subject
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
no subject
Were she literally any other person, he'd reach out to her. But...not her. Not after what happened last time. How can she still call him friend after that...?
Still, he's not leaving.]
You showed me that I could leave my show
At least that was true
But - there's no reason you can't do the same
Go see something new!
...we'll never be what we were,
And I don't want to
Sure, we're narrators
But we're still people too