The Leading Player (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guardianofsplendor) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itscurtains2016-11-28 02:42 pm
guardianofsplendor) wrote in itscurtains2016-11-28 02:42 pm
CURTAIN CALL
[Once all is said and done, the Leading Player turns her attention back to everyone else. She claps her hands once and the lights turn off and on in quick succession in an attempt to gain back everyone’s attention.]
Ladies! Gentlemen! Cast, crew, and audience alike! Under the usual genre conventions this would be where I would demand you vote to choose your fate, to stay with my troupe or have one of you sacrifice yourselves to the flames and bring this game to an end. However, you’ve all already made your votes clear and due to executive demand we’re obligated to present you with the ending you’ve earned by stealing my crew and forming a united front. You’re all real cute, with your private Plurks. [Wow, bitter much, LP?]
So enjoy your happy, sappy ending. I’m sure Denny’s will love having you. [She snaps her fingers and the fires in the pit finally extinguish.] Show’s over. Fastrada, get the others. Lewis, take the curtains, get the ghost lights, clean up the house. Berthe, take down the page since someone would rather go be a hermit handing out seeds to children than help me with CSS. And turn off the email notifications, I don’t even want to look at this!
[The remaining stagehands, those who didn’t respond to the cast’s attempts at friendship, look at each other and split off, posture a little downtrodden as they slink into the wings or the house. One of them starts to gather up the ghostlights from the side of the stage; another begins stripping the curtains.
The Player herself hops down from her platform, landing easily. For a moment, she stands looking down into the pit, posture tense. One hand rests on her hip; the other hangs at her side, still holding Hans’s winter coat.]
Charlemagne, get the throne.
[Still up there, the Balladeer sidesteps the stagehand as he comes to take the chair, and cautiously begins to make his way down the stairs. The Player pays him no mind; she takes a breath, straightens, and steps around the pit towards the apron.]
And as for all of you - [It’s not clear who she’s addressing now but it’s not the characters.] - we hope you’ve enjoyed your time with us, as participants or even simply as spectators. Hopefully you’ll join us the next time around. Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be. [She snaps her fingers and seemingly out of nowhere a hat and cane appear. The coat doesn’t fit the aesthetic, but she slings it over her shoulder nonetheless. The stagehands moving the platform away and taking down the lighting rigs part before her as she turns and strides upstage.]
I’m erasing myself from the narrative
Let future murdergame casts wonder
Where the Player went to
When she left the stage
Go turn your new page,
And I’ll watch this burn...
[She pauses before the last curtain, letting the orchestra continue the song without her for a few phrases.]
I forfeit my rights to all this. Whatever you took from my office, just give it to him. [She jerks her head towards the Balladeer.]
Let him have the memory
Of when this was ours…
...the world seemed to burn...
[Without looking back, she parts the curtain, steps through, and is gone. The remaining stagehands filter out a few moments later, leaving a bare stage and a quiet theatre behind them.
But, of course, there's still a little more magic to do, isn't there?]
Ladies! Gentlemen! Cast, crew, and audience alike! Under the usual genre conventions this would be where I would demand you vote to choose your fate, to stay with my troupe or have one of you sacrifice yourselves to the flames and bring this game to an end. However, you’ve all already made your votes clear and due to executive demand we’re obligated to present you with the ending you’ve earned by stealing my crew and forming a united front. You’re all real cute, with your private Plurks. [Wow, bitter much, LP?]
So enjoy your happy, sappy ending. I’m sure Denny’s will love having you. [She snaps her fingers and the fires in the pit finally extinguish.] Show’s over. Fastrada, get the others. Lewis, take the curtains, get the ghost lights, clean up the house. Berthe, take down the page since someone would rather go be a hermit handing out seeds to children than help me with CSS. And turn off the email notifications, I don’t even want to look at this!
[The remaining stagehands, those who didn’t respond to the cast’s attempts at friendship, look at each other and split off, posture a little downtrodden as they slink into the wings or the house. One of them starts to gather up the ghostlights from the side of the stage; another begins stripping the curtains.
The Player herself hops down from her platform, landing easily. For a moment, she stands looking down into the pit, posture tense. One hand rests on her hip; the other hangs at her side, still holding Hans’s winter coat.]
Charlemagne, get the throne.
[Still up there, the Balladeer sidesteps the stagehand as he comes to take the chair, and cautiously begins to make his way down the stairs. The Player pays him no mind; she takes a breath, straightens, and steps around the pit towards the apron.]
And as for all of you - [It’s not clear who she’s addressing now but it’s not the characters.] - we hope you’ve enjoyed your time with us, as participants or even simply as spectators. Hopefully you’ll join us the next time around. Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be. [She snaps her fingers and seemingly out of nowhere a hat and cane appear. The coat doesn’t fit the aesthetic, but she slings it over her shoulder nonetheless. The stagehands moving the platform away and taking down the lighting rigs part before her as she turns and strides upstage.]
I’m erasing myself from the narrative
Let future murdergame casts wonder
Where the Player went to
When she left the stage
Go turn your new page,
And I’ll watch this burn...
[She pauses before the last curtain, letting the orchestra continue the song without her for a few phrases.]
I forfeit my rights to all this. Whatever you took from my office, just give it to him. [She jerks her head towards the Balladeer.]
Let him have the memory
Of when this was ours…
...the world seemed to burn...
[Without looking back, she parts the curtain, steps through, and is gone. The remaining stagehands filter out a few moments later, leaving a bare stage and a quiet theatre behind them.
But, of course, there's still a little more magic to do, isn't there?]
no subject
[She clicks her tongue.] How beautiful, Hans-san, that was almost a real actual apology! But, if I remember correctly, you're supposed to say I'm sorry in those words, without a clarification. Here, let me show you.
[She clears her throat.] "Hans-san, I'm sorry for taking the bait of the first motive and trying to have all of you killed." See? Despite mitigating factors everyone tells me contributed, I am owning up to my mistakes. Does that help?
[All of this gentle and sweet and it looks like she's having fun wow.]
no subject
[ Man, Hans has actually had enough feelings to be embarrassed by how easily she calls him out. Fine!!! You win. He sighs, though he plasters on a fake smile for old times' sake. ]
But here: I'm sorry Natalie died because she wanted to know who the Mole was, and the Management used that against her. And against the Balladeer. If I had never been the Mole in the first place, she might not have died.
[ Boy, he is not happy about saying that out loud, let me tell you!! ]
no subject
There we go! Oh, that is so much better! If it weren't for Natalie I wouldn't be at all this good, so I'll make sure to thank her for you as well. [ie. tell her that she got him to properly apologize] Ohh, I must say, Hans-san, I do like interacting with you better when you're trying less to be charming.
no subject
[ He sure doesn't. ]
You're in the minority, I think, but at least you sounded less sarcastic for a second there.
no subject
[...is that her saying she gets it?? probably the closest you'll get]
no subject
[ He'll say it if she won't, he's got no shame left to lose. ]
It's refreshing, isn't it? I started trying honesty with the Balladeer and things worked out for the best, so that's what I'm going for now. Hopefully I can stick with it.
no subject
[She shows him a brilliant smile.]
Yes... I'll be D-ne for awhile longer. That's what everyone taught me.
no subject
Hans smiles, understanding someone's feelings is new to him, yet here he is. ]
Who knows? Maybe you'll find it's alright to be D-ne all the time.
no subject
I'm still cross with you for this Mole business, but I'll let it slide, I suppose, and should we meet again continue to remind you of it as punishment, as long as you take care of the Balladeer. Kind narrators are a rare breed.
no subject
[ Hans shrugs, letting her have her space. He may sound unsure about this honesty thing, but his devotion to the Balladeer is as true as it gets. ]
I understand. I'll take care of him. He's... one of a kind.
no subject
Good. Because if you don't, I'm sure you'll have the wrath of all of us- well, maybe not Strange Hook, he can barely comprehend breathing.
no subject
Oh, I know. I'll take good care of him. He's a fast learner, I'm sure he'll pick up this 'being a normal person' thing quickly.
no subject
[She spins back around adjusting her long hair.]
Then until next time, fellow Former Mirror?
no subject
[ He'd check his gloves but he's not wearing any. Even after a week, it sometimes feels strange. ]
I hope you'll be D-ne for a while longer.
no subject
[next time they talk it'll be in goddamn denny's]