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

[coolhatluvr]

"I'll tell him too," Patty says quietly. "Jus'. Not yet. I can't stop thinking about it. I don't wanna be thinkin' about that stuff when I talk to him." She hugs Capo back, just sitting for a minute and breathing.

"How are you holding up?" she finally pops her head up to ask. "I know I didn't really stab ya, but you had to sing some pretty nasty stuff to. Are you okay?"

[staybizzy]

"I, uh." The words die in Capochin's throat. He's not really sure what to say.

The lyrics that fell from Capochin's lips during their performance were, to some degree, based in truth. And he can't get the image of fistfuls of blue ribbons out of his head. Just fabric, but it felt so familiar...

"...Patty, I gotta tell ya somethin'. I ain't--- told nobody else about this, 'cept my friend Miss Drelasa, 'cause something similar happened to her. I don't... know if I'll ever be able to talk to Hector about it."

[coolhatluvr]

"...So you don't want me to tell anyone either?" she asks. "I can do that. I'm good at keeping secrets!" (Mostly because she has a tendency to forget them -- but she won't forget Capo's! And she won't tell Hector either.)

cw: self harm ideation

[staybizzy]

"Yeah, I 'preciate it," Capochin mutters. He takes the bandaged section of his tail in both hands, gripping it where the wrappings are like a lifeline. A weird nervous tick he's had as long as Patty's known him and longer. He doesn't outright wring it, but he looks like he wants to.

Deep breath. In, out.

"How much d'you know about--- divine miracles? You ever seen one? When a human performs a devotional act for a god, and it catches a lil' bitta that magic."

[coolhatluvr]

"...Um. That's a pretty ominous direction to take this in, boss man, but...Not unless really little stuff counts, like how all the paint Pokey was throwing around in Buzzhuzz landed right where it was supposed to..." At least, Colonel Estrano called that a miracle, and Patty doesn't know enough about art to say she's wrong.

[staybizzy]

"Yeah, little stuff counts. Or like--- when Sunflower Dreamboat plays for Oh Partner Mine, and it takes over the whole area," Capochin explains. "Well--- not all miracles are pretty. They can make the impossible, possible. But it's not always good."

[coolhatluvr]

"...Boss." Patty reaches out and takes his hand. "This isn't about that thing you did in th' Cooking wit' Capo video, is it? Cause Bananathaniel said that was just sleight of hand! He did the same trick with a toilet roll!"

She doesn't sound skeptical at all, she sounds like she already knows where this is going and is trying to convince herself that it's not that.

[staybizzy]

Silently, Capochin just looks at her, his mouth set in a grim frown. Then he looks away, fingertips pressing firmly and rubbing a spot on his chest. A spot Patty had seen bare over Merrymeet--- bearing a thick, ragged white-blue scar over a strange dip in the flesh there.

He still doesn't say anything.

Does he need to?

[coolhatluvr]

Is it bad she thought he'd been shanked at some point before she joined up? Or he could have fallen on a rebar in flood season and got a little shish-kebabed, it happens. The Bizzyboys get into all kinds a dicey situations! How could she have known he was apparently serving up his own flesh to Inspekta on the regular??

Gods, and Hector doesn't know. He made it specifically clear that Hector doesn't know. Patty's eyes are starting to sting and well up again.

"Boss..." She puts her other hand on his shoulder, giving him a little shake back and forth. "You're stopped now, right? Right?"

[staybizzy]

"'Course I'm stopped," Capochin tells her gently. "Couldn't survive it now, without Inspekta. And things are different between me 'n Hector anyway."

But if it was still possible to perform such a miracle? And Hector, exhausted after a hard day of work, were to ever ask, Say, Cappy, what-ef-fur happened to those special burgies yew used to make me? I could reel-ee go for one'a them right now. Could Capochin say no?

Would he want to?

He doesn't attempt to answer that question. But he knows he's never been good at not setting himself on fire to keep Hector warm.

"...I dunno why I made that video. I mean--- me 'n Razzma, we use'ta be friends. So maybe I don't hate weird art as much as I pretended to in Buzzhuzz. Maybe I just wanted a way to get it off my chest."

[coolhatluvr]

Patty isn't sure how they got on the subject of Razzma and weird art, unless Capo means that either the burgie or the video was meant as some kind of art piece? Art's supposed to about expressin' your feelings, that's what Colonel Estrano and Cottin said. But Patty's still tryin' to process the fact that Capo was ripping pieces of himself out to feed Inspekta, apparently for years??? When did he start makin' the devotion burgies? When did they turn blue???

"Never again, okay?" she says, shaking Capo again. "I know it's not possible without Inspekta backin' you up, but Capo, I don't want you to even try. We can go back'n forth on whether Inspekta's worth it, but you deserve better than that, okay? You're worth more than just a...a piece of meat! So promise me you'll never try that again, okay?"

She's looking at him very intently now. Don't even think of lyin' to get her off your back, Capo! She'll see right through you!!

[staybizzy]

The video itself had been an art piece, in a way. A diary, an exposé, vent art, a cry for help, a way to process it all. A desperate devotional. Telling a truth in a way that seemed like a joke so that people would assume he was lying, maybe. Just... something. He doesn't really know why he made it anymore. Certainly not in a way he could explain to Patty. Perhaps that's why it makes no sense.

Eyes refocusing on Patty, there's another moment of uncomfortable silence. And therein lies another quiet truth--- that Capochin has never felt like he's worth more than a piece of meat. And being told so, whether by Patty or Godpoke or Hector himself, still comes as a surprise that he must fight the uncomfortable urge to argue with.

"It was more'n that. Food is... something I always been proud of. My Ma, y'know, she taught me to cook like her, makin' amazing food outta what little we had. Cookin' for Hector had always been part of us. And I was already sacrificing so damn much, I guess some messed up part of me thought it was natural. You shoulda seen how he used to get after he ate one. He was--- electric. I dunno. It got hard to think about stoppin'." Capochin sighs, and stops himself. No, she doesn't need to burden herself with more of this awful knowledge, more rambling. "But I won't do it no more. And thank you."

[coolhatluvr]

She holds his gaze steadily until he finally gives her the promise she's looking for, and then she pulls him into a deep, hard hug. "Thank you," she says, and sniffles. "You know, for how hard you were on us, I never realized that you were being just as hard as yourself. Don't...I don't know how to say it. Pokey'd know, but I don' wanna bother them right now..." She chews on her lip, frustrated.

"I know you're probably used to thinking of yourself as handlin' all this stuff alone, right?" she slowly starts to speak. "You couldn't talk to Razz or any of us about things like dis, 'cause then you'd had to have told us what got you into this mess to begin with. And you couldn't talk to Inspekta about it either...but boss, Cappy, you ain't alone anymore." She squeezes his sides. "We've already made it through the worst a'the worst, so there's not much you can tell us that'd be really shocking anymore. So you can trust us now, right? If...you know, if you want to."

[staybizzy]

Capochin lets her embrace him, limp for a moment before his arms raise to Patty's back. Fingers clench in her costume uniform, and he listens, stiff and silent.

Patty claims she isn't enough like Godpoke to handle this like they would. But the sheer level of pure, open-eyed and open-hearted, gut-punchingly raw understanding that Capochin is receiving from her nearly mirrors what Hector is getting from Godpoke just a few feet away. To be seen and heard with such clarity, to be told these things he's desperately needed to hear--- it's like taking a gasp of fresh air after breathing only fumes. He doesn't think he deserves her forgiveness, after everything he put her through. He was harder on Patty than anyone else. But if she's offering that level of kindness, then maybe, just maybe, Capochin has it in him to become someone worthy of it.

"Course I trust you, princess," Capochin says, with all the warm affection of an uncle or father, even with as drained as he is. "You stuck by me after all dat. You even forgave me for makin' you count rocks---" He laughs through those last few words, albeit sounding a bit waterlogged. "I'd be stupid not to trust you."