itscurtains | Entries tagged with act 1

[It's been a long night. A long 7 weeks if you want more accuracy but it's finally over. With the Leading Player gone and the Balladeer in charge, the performers and former performers turned crew members turned turncoats are free to go home to their proper shows. Once everyone has gathered what they want from their rooms or the merch booth, they'll be led out of the court room and into...

What better place for a post-show gathering than a 24 hour diner less than a handful of them have ever experienced? They might even find some familiar but confused faces waiting for them there.

After their grand slams have been slammed and goodbyes have been said everyone will be free to leave the liminal space that is this strange inter-dimensional Denny's and find themselves exactly where they want to be.

Enjoy your cast party, everyone, you've earned it.]

[ooc: Welcome to the cast party and actual final log of It's Curtains round 1! We mods (and B) hope you've all had as wonderful a time playing this game as we did running it and we hope to see you for round 2 when it eventually comes around!

Since this is the final log, we have a special clause for it: every player character is allowed to have one living castmate for this log thanks to B's weirdass showrunner/mod powers. So have fun with that, everyone! ♥]

guardianofsplendor

[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?]

stagemanagers

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?"

stagemanagers

Today is the day of the promised grand finale. And, strangely, nothing about the Opera seems especially different this morning. The theatre doors remain locked. There's no smell of blood in the air, no trashed rooms, and no dead bodies to find. In the lobbies, the crystal chandeliers are still in their places, not swung about by any mysterious force.

But there's little things. It may take a while to notice, but the lock on one of the doors in the second floor lobby - the one leading to Boxes 5 through 8 - is missing. Should anyone try it, it opens easily and without a sound.

Meanwhile, down on the first floor, the graffiti on the box office walls has once again been cleaned up. In the process, it seems, the box office door was left slightly ajar.

(( As a reminder, these are your teams. Group A gets the second floor, which will involve the area indicated in red, and Group B gets the first floor, with the areas in blue here and down the left to here. Good luck, everyone! ))

inforapenny

[There is no announcement at noon on Tuesday. The hour itself, in fact, seems to hang in grave remembrance of a friend no longer with them. B's absence is still heavy in their group every time that they look at the graffiti'd box office.

But they can't be silent forever. They won't be silent forever.

There's few enough of them left that Billy can find each of them individually, slipping a sheet of paper into their hand.]

MEET IN THE FIRST FLOOR WOMEN'S ROOM, 2 PM.

(Men's room light is still out. Sorry.)

stagemanagers

WEEK 7

[Seven weeks later. Half of your number remains.

Nothing in the opera house seems all that different. The Box Office door has been locked after the death of its occupant, and there's a new copy of the house rules nailed to the front, with the last one circled heavily in black ink. The point has been made; the rest of you had better play your parts.

The crew members still aren't visibly walking the halls, but every so often there's movement in your peripheral vision, or vague half-heard whispers from the shadows. Every so often there's a thud or a snicker from inside the Merchandise Booth, though the stagehand inside will continue handing out prizes to those who earn them.

This may be your last week here. Make the most of it.]

[ Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday ]

[ooc: don't forget to submit your memories and check into the roll call!]

trettende

[ Hans doesn't go to his room. He can't sleep like this, covered in the Balladeer's blood and knowing what just happened. After losing... his closest friend.

Something's changed. Maybe even for good.

No, Hans goes to his room and grabs stationary. He scrawls, angrily, several notes and leaves them all under everyone's doors. ]

We're meeting in the first floor Men's Room. There are no cameras there. I have something important to tell everyone.

- Hans

stagemanagers

[The sound of the courtroom doors opening is louder and deeper than the stairwell doors were, as if they understand their dramatic importance.

It's time for yet another trial.

Natalie's podium has joined the other somberly-decorated ones in pretty short order. Unfortunately, the other ones are left entirely as they were - no pillows, food, or coffee provided by the Opera staff. You'll just have to try and make this quick. The Balladeer sounds like he'd like to get this over with as well when he speaks up.]

I'm sorry, Heather. I really didn't think... [He sighs.] Okay, go ahead.

stagemanagers

[This week being what it is, some of you probably aren't quite asleep right now.

So when the morning hour rolls around, you may be the ones to hear the sound of the stairwell doors clicking open again.

Maybe someone should go check that out.]

stagemanagers

WEEK 6

[Six weeks later, and eleven performers remain.

The opera house is much the same when Monday morning dawns this week. It seems you've truly gone as high as you can go - there is no fifth floor, and no sign of any other new areas. The air has grown colder, like perhaps someone failed to adjust the heating for the winter weather that's supposedly happening just outside. Javert and Astarte's stars are still firmly affixed to their doors; it seems you might have to try a little harder to learn their secrets.

Things seem to be building. Have a good week, everyone.]

[ Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday ]

[ooc: don't forget to submit your memories and check into the roll call!]

inforapenny

This is your formal acceptance into the United League of Opera House Survivors. Whether or not you ignore this, You are not alone.

Something must be done. This status is not quo.

We will not be ignored. We will not be manipulated. We will not be victims anymore.

Join me in the dining room. We need to plan.

[Anna also gets an additional message.]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I haven't done more. That I haven't done enough. But being here has made me stronger. Being with you has made me stronger. I'm not a joke, or a dork. I'm just me.

I promised you sunshine, Anna. We're going to get out of here to see your home again.
-Your Billy

[He'll be sitting at the table after delivering 10 of the 11 copies of the same letter that he's written out. The others all were trifolded and slid under dressing room doors with the recipient's name written on the back.

This last one, however, the one that he's worrying in his hands but never unfolding as he sits at the table, simply has a large B written on the back.]

Thanks for, uh. Thanks for coming. If you want to stay on this side of the room, I found a vent that can block this camera but not... not the other one.

stagemanagers

[For a fourth time, the doors of the trial room unlock with a loud, echoing click and creak of the doors opening.

The time has come for your fourth trial.

The courtroom looks as it always does, with Hook and Javert's podiums are have been decorated just as the other dead performers are. The added lights cast even more shadows across the room and the chandelier above glitters and hangs ominously overhead. The Balladeer is nowhere to be seen again, presumably waiting behind the curtain to be needed. Once everyone is in position, his voice rings out across the courtroom.]

You guys know what to do. Let's get this over with.

stagemanagers

[All's quiet on the Opera front this morning. But that's been the case so often on Fridays it wouldn't be too safe to trust it. But hey, there's still not a flood of blood in the first floor hallway again so you've all got that going for you.]

inforapenny

[On Wednesday evening, Billy slides a note underneath the doors of all of the other cast members' doors. The notes are written in his messy, excited all-caps handwriting (the initial letters for each sentence is larger than the rest of the letters), but the message is simple enough (especially since he had to write it 15 times).]

Join me for an important tech demonstration in the special effects lab tonight at Intermission.
-BH

[As soon as everyone who's going to come is assembled, sickly-sweet cherry-scented fog starts pouring out of the vents on either side of the room, effectively obscuring both of the cameras.]

Thanks for coming. I found something on Monday night, that should, uh. Should probably be shared. With you guys.

stagemanagers

WEEK 5
[Five weeks, three trials, seven deaths and thirteen performers left.

Monday the opera house has been cleaned top to bottom of any leftover traces of Halloween. No pumpkins, no cobwebs, no cheesy paper skeletons, not even a hint that there the decorations has been there in the first place. There's a slight chill in the air this week, like someone forgot to shut off the air conditioning on for a bit too long. Luckily there are plenty of sweaters in the costume room should the performers get chilly. Three more doors are lacking in their appropriate stars now but, as with Hime's, Eliza and Darla's doors have different stars stuck tight to them with different names on them.

The door on in the third floor lobby is unlocked and a new floor is ready to be explored. Enjoy your week, everyone.]

[Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday]

[ooc: put in your memories and get in your activity, lovelies, and let's have a stellar week.]

solomonjihad

[Sometimes after the trial, Astarte decides to burn her anger off in the kitchen. That's a good idea, right? Right?? This trial really opened her eyes. Monsters - real monsters - they could be in any form.

The voice would be enjoying the anger, if it had not been so suppressed beforehand. If the anger hadn't been real, righteous anger like Astarte feels.

At some point, the small of cooked pumpkin wafts through the air, and soon enough in the first floor lobby, there's a little paper at the merchandising booth.

CAKE AND COFFEE IN THE TEA ROOM.

Its not a crazy recipe - its just pumpkin bread. Where did Astarte get the pumpkin to make it? Who knows? In any case, at least one loaf is a little burnt on the bottom. There's also a large thermos of coffee on the table. Feel free to help yourselves.

Astarte, for her part, is sitting in the tea room, staring at the fire as she drinks her cup of coffee. Staring, and thinking. Ruminating.

There are more question than answers that have come up, after all.]

stagemanagers

[Once again, the sound of opening doors echoes through the opera house as the investigation draws to a close.

Time for your third trial.

The courtroom looks the same as ever, save that Darla and Eliza's podiums are now arranged in the same funerary fashion as the other deceased cast members. The lights from the bulbs standing in their places seem to cast the rest of the house even more in shadow, even as the crystal chandeliers still glitter dimly above. The Balladeer is hidden backstage once more, somewhere behind the red curtain drawn shut across the stage. Once everyone's taken their places, he speaks up.]

Alright. Let's do this.

stagemanagers

[The Opera House is quiet on Friday, just as it was quiet last Friday. There's no immediate smell of blood the air and most everyone was pretty blase about the motive earlier in the week this might just be a deathless week.

The only way to know for sure is to investigate.]

robitussin

[Now that two murders have occurred, most everyone is probably eager to prevent another death from occurring. It's a good idea to share information as well, so now, it's time for another group meeting! Earlier in the day, Natalie goes around and lets everyone know that there's going to be another discussion in the dining hall during the afternoon. She won't force anyone to come if they don't want to, but she at least makes sure to inform everyone she can find.

Once everyone is present, she raises her voice, making sure that she's heard.]

Okay, let's get this show on the road. It's been a while since all of us have had a discussion as a group other than during trials, so let's do that again. If there's anything you want to bring up, definitely go for it. We should figure out as much as we can while we're here.

trettende

[ That's right, cast members! It's Halloween! Some weird holiday Hans totally read up on that involves dressing up and eating sweets, apparently. As with his last party, Hans has slipped an invitation under your door, inviting you, yes you! To celebrate Halloween in the... third floor ballroom? Hell, Hans didn't plan for that, but if the set-up's there, he'll take it. The note doesn't quite say "It's what Hime would have wanted" but it does say "We should all stick together and try to make the best of our time with each other," so y'know. It's implied. Along with "Costumes mandatory! It's not Halloween without that."

Once you arrive at the party, what will you do? Will you enjoy some refreshments? The drinks are set out just like last time, along with some cake made by Astarte (not exactly Hime quality but a very sweet attempt,) perhaps take the chance to share some stories or show off your costume? Or maybe you'd like to check out what's going on at the tables? Looks like someone set up pumpkin carving stations Why, the possibilities are endless! ]

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Page generated Jun. 10th, 2025 07:09 pm

♪Welcome to a Game About Death♪

Entries tagged with act 1

hey, let's go to Denny's

CURTAIN CALL

THE FINAL ACT

No Backward Glances

Do you hear the people sing? Because they're all pissed off

WEEK 7

afterparty!! guess who's dead!! It's the only person hans ever trusted!!

FIFTH TRIAL

Fifth Investigation

WEEK 6

Anyone with half a brain can see that all these murders are insane

fourth trial

fourth investigation

Meeting day, see you there

week 5

Who will tell your story?

Third Trial

third investigation

week 4, wednesday - time for a meeting!

WEEK 4, MONDAY, HALLOWEEN PARTY \o/

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July 2021

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