MARCH SADNESS - A Symphony of Sorrow

[pumpkinhollow]

SYMPHONY OF SORROW

If the Audience Would Please Take Their Seats

You find yourself at the theatre.

You may be asking how you got here, why you are here, when did you arrive. But none of that matters, does it? Nothing matters. Whether you are shocked at yourself for thinking so or whether you have known that nothing matters for years on end does not matter either. Whatever meaning there was to be had in any of this escapes you now. Who you were and what you wanted, what you valued and stood for, it all seems now like such a hazy dream. Out of reach.

There is a ticket in your hand. It tells you where to go. You follow it dutifully. Ticket stubs are exchanged for playbills. A schedule of performances. Whatever. You numbly proceed to where you belong. Performers and stage crew to their places, orchestra to the pit, workers to their positions. All with the knowledge that there can be only pain.

A four-armed conductor in moth-eaten robes raises his baton, and there is music.

You deserve this.

You deserve this.

You deserve this.

Observer’s Overture

First Movement in E Minor

adagio, con dolore
PP

Lights down on the chorus, who sits in the stands. They are playing the role of the audience. Ad lib spoken word between chorus members seated near one another. Soft music begins to swell eerily.

Lights up on the stage. A performance begins, apparently in media res, where the chorus is meant to observe.

vacillante, improvvisato
cresc. P

The performers on stage play out their acts, appearing fearful. The chorus ad libs quiet uncertainty from the stands. Some of them will look down at their playbill and find their own name on the schedule of acts to come. There is a brief description on the page of the act that is scheduled for them. It is clear by the state of the ones already on stage that this isn’t something they have a choice in.

Chorus members attempt to rise from their seats, but cannot. Not yet. Foreshadowing to a later movement. For now, they must endure the overture.

Opera Infernale

Second Movement in Various Keys
( A medley of vignettes, performed in various styles)

chorale concerto a tutti, con affetto

F

Various chorus members rise between songs and make their way to the green room, where they are costumed. They have some time to talk with other incoming acts. They will find themselves and their loved ones being prepared for their acts.

segue

Those who performed before stop in the green room again. They look drained. A fate which awaits the incoming acts.

segue

On the stage, each act is a musical recreation of trauma. A worst fear, a most painful moment, an act of cruelty, a time of hardship. The styles will vary accordingly. If the other players in a given tale are present, they will receive their role without question. If a cast member has no fellow performers from their own world present, an understudy will be chosen to play any other roles from those that they are close to. Everyone is off book. Vocal quality is adjusted to match the conductor’s standards. Staff ensures there are no interruptions. The show must go on.

CODA: Für Nimona
A Coda in A Minor

There is a stranger in the green room, unmoving. Pale glowing eyes peer out from an ungulate-shaped void perched atop a high end suit. Antlers leer overhead. He is waiting for someone. Staff take no notice of him.

Ensemble's Lament

Third Movement in G Minor

bocca chiusa
PPP

There are other places to be besides the stage. Other roles to play.

pesante

Behind the stage, the stage crew toil under Baritone, the stage manager and the Viscount of Suffering. There is a pipe organ built into the man’s chest, and the bell of a horn where his heart ought to be. It shows. He is as cruel as he is miserable. He runs a tight ship.

declamando, letando

There are others in the pit, if they have the musical skill for it. And while this part of the performance is managed by a kinder sort, the Contessa of False Comforts is not so named for no reason.

The opera is long. There are no intermissions. The orchestra plays until their lungs ache and their fingers bleed, while Sonata assures them that it will all be over soon. Surely she cannot be lying. Surely there must be an end…

freddo, pietoso

Just outside the auditorium, there is work for the chorus serving food and drinks, taking ticket stubs for the endless stream of audience members, cleaning messes, or all other manner of soulless work. Perhaps these ensemble members simply did not interest the Conductor. Or it could be that they were made more miserable elsewhere.

Reprise - Observer’s Overture

Fourth Movement in E Major

impetuoso
FF It would seem that once a chorus member’s concerto is complete, they are free to move about the premises. At least until they are scheduled in a supporting role for another soloist. This means a chance to explore--- or escape.

presto repente, bellicoso
cresc.

Those attempting to escape will be met with resistance, however. Guarding the doors are shades, creations of the Conductor who can wear the faces of those held dear by those that look upon them. Escape, more likely, will come from within.

Members of the chorus who attempt to do battle with the Conductor, however, will find themselves up against something far more dangerous. Figures of glass, in all different shapes. Some abstract and solid, some hollow and human-like, and everywhere in between. Perhaps some chorus members will find one to be familiar.

The Hero will need an ensemble of her own to make it through and strike at the Conductor. Perhaps a resistance can be formed in a hidden location near the green room.

Homeward Aria

Fifth and Final Movement in C Major

tiempo di fanfara, vittorioso
F

When a dagger of Aster is driven into the heart of Prince Efrain of Sorrow’s Song, at last, the illusion fades. The members of the chorus relinquish their roles and find themselves on the summit of Crane’s Ridge.

It will be an arduous journey home, but it can be done with the solace that there is one less Demon Prince to trouble Pumpkin Hollow. Music in a joyful major key swells, then decrescendos.

enfatico, mancando poco a poco

| CONTENT WARNINGS: altered states of consciousness, entrapment, grief, depression, mood control, loss of bodily autonomy |

Comments

[yournewsidekick]

"Riiiight." She stretches the word, but not entirely out of skepticism. "You're the casino guy."

Instead of taking his hand, Nimona deliberately folds her arms, still eyeing Aster sidelong. Honestly, the casino was one of the better tricks the demon court pulled on them the past year. Gnarly Serena Eterna flashbacks aside, she got to have a little fun, cause a little chaos, do a little hunting...

So. Instead of making some sarcastic comment about starting a Kill Efrain Fan Club or something, Nimona says, "I'm listening."

[daemoniumexmachina]

Instead of retracting his hand, Aster simply closes it with a sort of flourish of twisted wrist and splayed fingers curling inwards, then opens it again, palm up. Within are a set of golden armored claws.

"I thought perhaps you could use something a little more your style than a sword," he muses. "They'll shift with you. They will usually be claws, but if needed they can be teeth. You'll need an infernal weapon to kill him. And you won't make it if you go in alone. Once your performance is over, your strings will be cut. They are blind to the room behind me. Rally your entourage there, and then storm the stage and rip out his heart under glorious spotlights."

[yournewsidekick]

Nimona is a creature of impulses. If she really wants something, she'll do it quick without thinking too much about it first. And man has she wanted to kill Efrain the last eight months.

So the pause that hangs in the air for a couple beats? Pretty much just for dramatic effect.

(Look, she's not above overdone clichés, either.)

Her mouth splits into a sharp-toothed grin that goes all the way back to her ears. "Gimme," she says as she snatches up the claws. Holding them up to the light, she turns them this way and that to get a better look at the craftsmanship. "Yeah, I'm usually a fan of going for the throat, but I can work with tearing his heart out."

And then she snaps her fist closed around the weapon as she narrows her eyes. "What's the catch?"

[daemoniumexmachina]

Aster chuckles. "You know, in the interest of transparency, there typically is one. Things like me tend to want to gloss over or undersell that part and let the patsy we're dealing with figure it out later. I consider myself to be particularly good at that."

And he isn't wrong. Those who he has dealt with often fail to see the impact of such deals until much, much too late. Compared to Eligos, who is completely transparent in his dealings because he is so utterly confident that the person will accept anyway; or Efrain, who posits his own deals as an act of generosity; or Mendel, who would simply outright lie; Aster, it seems, strikes the perfect balance of saying just enough.

"But no, this time there truly is no catch. You and I simply want the same thing--- for the Prince of Sorrow's Song to die. I'm not the sort to get my own hands dirty if it isn't necessary. You don't possess the means to make Efrain die in a way that matters. Thus, I have provided the means, with the understanding that you will perform the task. Transaction complete. If you fail to kill him, there will certainly be some sort of recourse, but you and I both know that isn't going to happen."

[yournewsidekick]

She snorts, faintly contemptuous. "Typical," she says, but doesn't relinquish the claws. "Don't wanna get that nice suit messy, huh, Prince Boy. But, yeah. If I want something dead? It'll get dead."

Experimentally, she slips the claws onto her fingers and gives them a flex. Ooooh, yeah, she likes these. Nice and sturdy and sharp. Perfect for prying a ribcage open. "Do I get to keep 'em when I'm done?"

[daemoniumexmachina]

"If that's what you'd like to believe!" He says it with a disconcerting amount of cheer. It certainly would be convenient if Aster simply was too persnickety to do his own work, wouldn't it? No, Aster has a very good reason for keeping out of the fray, and unfortunately the residents of Pumpkin Hollow won't see what it is until far, far too late.

"All yours," Aster assures her. "They were crafted specifically with you in mind. Enjoy."

[yournewsidekick]

Nimona's grin widens disconcertingly.

"Metal," she says, and retracts her new claws with a shnk.