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ph_logs2025-03-29 08:17 pm
pumpkinhollow) wrote in ph_logs2025-03-29 08:17 pm
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MARCH SADNESS - A Symphony of Sorrow
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.
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 dolorePP
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 affettoF
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 chiusaPPP
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
impetuosoFF 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, vittoriosoF
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 |
Sally Boyle | OTA, for people who have already performed their opera <3
There isn't much sadness to be drawn from Sally Boyle these days. Sure, Efrain could have her spin another tale of her sordid past. A troubled youth as an orphan, a lost childhood sweetheart, a heart broken a hundred times, an adulthood playing dress-up doll for five thousand smiling idiots, her failure to protect her child. The happy little farm life she'd built with a man she'd guided through a journey to healing, who'd helped her raised her daughter, who she'd married in a dream and nearly married again before he just vanished.
But what cuts right to the soul of Sally Boyle, what true despair looks like, far moreso than any trite little dance number evoking memories of the same old trauma, is a far deeper fear. The agony of not
having
a voice
at all.
And so, just like she was in Wellington Wells, she is tucked away somewhere, toiling away. Like she was while with Anton Verloc, she is given a post where she can smile and wave and ask how she may be of service. Like she was in the Hastings home, she is strangled into silence for fear of a worse fate. Mindless drudgery in exchange for safety.
Perhaps all this is a somewhat dramatic way of saying that Sally Boyle is trapped working at the concession stand. Those in search of drinks or popcorn can find her looking haggard behind the counter, forcing a smile and asking what they'd like. And to add to the fun, she does in fact still have Gwen strapped to her back.
-We Angry Few-
[ After Crichton jailbreaks her, this is where they'll be rallying a group to help back up Nimona! ]
Once released from the concession stand, Sally has one thing on her mind--- getting out of here. Those concluding their performance might see a tucked away door off of the green room peek open.
"Hey!" she hisses under her breath. "Over here!"
Tagging in on top! But you can be sure he's going to be part of the commotion after too
After the performance he was forced to give on stage he's tempted to wish their roles were reversed, but when he sees how miserable she looks behind that counter he doesn't have the heart to even think it anymore. Rather than approach her with sympathy, he decides to put on some lover-boy charm to see if he can at least cheer her up a little back there.
He puts on a theatrical tone and pretends this is their first meeting, starting off with a wolf whistle. "MM, mm. If I'd known they were hiding their best assets out here in the concession stand I would have come sooner. Hey there pretty lady, got any plans for later?"
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Despite the hours of soul-sucking work with a cranky toddler to haul around, she can't help but crack a smile at the antics. "Excuse me, sir," she teases back, "but I don't think my handsome, incredible, hilarious boyfriend would care much for customers making passes at me while I'm working."
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He leans his elbow on the counter, really hamming it up. "Oh yeah? I'm not sure someone that perfect exists. I'd like to meet 'im. Where is he?"
He straightens up to hunt around the lobby, and then her counter--winking at Gwen as he inspects her--all while pretending to be looking for that mysterious boyfriend.
"What's his name?"
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When she mentions his eyes, he flutters his lashes comically for her. "Maybe it's Maybelline." Okay, he can't keep that up or he'll make himself dizzy.
"Can I take you and the little lady out for nice long walk after shift ends? You can stare into these baby blues all you want, just to make sure."
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His tone shifts into something softer, more sincere. "That's okay, I'll wait for you as long as I need to. I already... did my show. So I have nowhere else to be."
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"Still, I don't want the things running this to get suspicious about you hanging around..." Sally tuts thoughtfully. "Think you can jailbreak me?"
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"Jailbreak? I think I can try. Won't be my first." Just... don't ask how well the other times went.
"How have they got you trapped back there? Is it magic or are you wearing an actual ball and chain round your ankle?" He wouldn't put it past this place.
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"I will be," he says, and means it. "Give me a kiss for good luck first?"
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"Let's go with good luck, you know, with my track record." He winks, and then he slips away.
It will be several nerve-wracking minutes before that black door opens, and she'll hear a quiet, "Pstss! It's me. Don't turn to look, you won't see anything." She won't, because he used one of his spell slots to cast invisibility on himself.
"Pretend like you're surprised and walk to the door."
A Modest Concession
At last, after being told to mop the floor for the third time in as many hours -- not that it will do much good, the tiles seem to be perpetually sticky -- he manages to work his way over to her counter and murmur, quietly so they won't be overheard, "I can take her for a while, if it'll help. It wouldn't be any trouble for me."
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