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
[Her smile falters a little.]
Honestly? After... after seeing you dead, I kind of went into shock. I wanted to give up, but everyone was fighting so hard to prove that Seymour and Billy didn't do it, that a stagehand did it... I helped how I could. I don't even really remember what I said... The next thing I knew after we voted is being on that stage, prepared to die because we defied LP, and then the Balladeer...
[She hugs herself.] I was so mad at Billy, I remember that. I saved his life and then I got mad at this entire place. So Billy and I decided we needed to riot, so we did everything we could to show how mad we were with the Management...
no subject
You guys did great. I mean, you convinced them to undo death itself. That's pretty fucking awesome. And...
[Deep breath.]
I mean, the fact that you got over the shock and used that anger to help everyone, that's... I don't know if I could have done that if it was you instead of me.
no subject
I didn't do much in the end. Jez really hit home with LP. She was amazing! And Raoul and TPK? I'm so glad they were there for us, too. The others as well. I never thought Heather would open up like that, and Hans actually listening to something I told him? Billy was amazing, too. And it was sweet how Seymour and Winslow finally confessed to each other, and then used that love and hope to help in the end... They did all the work. They're the ones who deserve the praise. The Balladeer really needs some hugs.
[She laughs softly.]
I didn't know what else to do. Being mad feels awful, but being mad for a reason? Heh... I take it you guys saw the memorial I made in the ballroom? The candles for Valjean lit up, and Astarte's locket tried to run away.
no subject
[She nods.]
Yeah. It was really beautiful. That's the kind of thing I'm talking about.
no subject
You helped me a lot, too. If it wasn't for you, I don't think I could have made it as well as I did. Telling me to be more open about how I felt... it's probably what kept me from doing something really, really, really stupid. [She cannot emphasis that enough.]
I didn't know what to do for you, so I picked some books I thought you'd like. The piano seemed like the best place to put them, and... I made a new pie. Cherry and apple. Sweet and tart. I wanted to share the one I made first with you when the doors opened....
no subject
[Now that that's said, though...]
If I helped you even a little bit, I'm really glad. Anna, I...
[A pause, running a hand through her hair, before she starts to sing.]
If I could begin to be
Half of what you think of me
I could do about anything
You helped me to learn how to trust...
When I saw the way you'd act
Wondering when I'm coming back
I could do about anything
You helped me to learn how to trust
Like you
I always thought I might be bad
Now I know it's not true
Still, I think you’re so good
And I’m nothing like you
Look at you go
I care about you
I wish that I knew
What makes you think I'm so special...
If I could begin to do
Something that does right by you
I would do about anything
You helped me to learn how to trust
When I see the way you look
Shaken by how long it took
I could do about anything
You helped me to learn how to trust
Like you
Trusting like you...