dramatispersonae

PERIDOT

[you find yourself standing in a group, crowded uncomfortably close together under an enormous, leafless dead oak tree, in the middle of a courtyard with high stone walls and a floor of hard-packed earth. while ivy and grass grew in profusion here once, all of it that you can see is charred and dead as well. the sun is high, as it has always been in Firebird’s realm, and the shadows are deep.

all of you are wearing circles of black iron chain on your wrists, ankles and necks. though they do not constrict your movement right now, they are bitingly cold and uncomfortable to wear, and cannot be removed.

there is a wide white oblong of canvas hung on the air in front of you, rather like a movie screen. you can move freely in the space otherwise, but you cannot pass or look behind the material.]

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[players can hear Koschei's voice here, deep and sneering as always.]

Once upon a time, a prince met a songbird, in the middle of a sorcerer’s kingdom. The prince captured the songbird in his hands; the songbird allowed herself to be captured. When she cried to be let go, he acquiesced, and in doing so won her heart and her allegiance. She would help him from that day forth, and gladly.

However, neither her heart nor her allegiance were things she was meant to give to any living creature, and they bound her more surely than hands or chains ever would have, complicating her role with unnecessary desire and emotion and planting the seeds of its downfall.

Who played the lesser part in the role’s ruin: the meddlesome prince, who imposed what was never meant to be upon the songbird; or the songbird, who allowed him to do so?

[as Koschei speaks, the silhouettes of the Firebird and a tall man dressed in furs move across the canvas to enact his words. the Firebird hovers in place; the man sneaks up behind her and puts his arms around her; and she beats her arms and struggles to get away. he lets her go, and she flees across the screen -- but then turns back, to offer him a shadow shaped like a heart.

you find yourselves jerked about by the chains you wear, in a crude parody of one character’s actions; you have no choice about which one you enact and must go through the motions.

(ghostly images flicker behind the shadow-play as well, fragments of memory from Aather: the Firebird snatching an apple from the hand of Knife from Emerald; blushing when Canary from Coral offers her clothing to protect her from the snow; crooning along with Elliot from Sterling as he plays the piano; hesitantly leaning forward to accept embraces from Apple from Sapphire and Tavros from Ruby; and many more . . .)]

For this round, a, b, c and d are bound to the role of the prince. e, f, g and h are bound to the role of the songbird.

Please answer individually. All answers are public and can be heard by everyone in your group.

[The winning half of the group feels a sense of cool euphoria. Their skin itches . . . is it a little paler, now?

The losing half of the group feels dizzy and lightheaded, and starts to have some trouble breathing. They feel intensely anxious, jumpy, unavoidably high-strung and paranoid of everyone else in the room with them.

Briar has vanished.]

Edited 2014-09-21 02:25 (UTC)

[Koschei's voice begins again.]

The prince stumbled haplessly onto the sorcerer’s doorstep, and was about to receive a just punishment for his trespass, when the songbird intervened and gave him a choice: a sword to kill the sorcerer, or her own magic to use on what the sorcerer had bound. The foolish prince saw only what was in front of him and chose to take the sword and kill.

But when the sorcerer was gone, his magic which had bound and protected the land and his captives faded, and darker enemies arose. One wrong decision, and the prince and the songbird were left with an unprotected kingdom, with people they had no way of protecting, and no way to make the realm flourish once more. They were forced to leave it as it was, and the songbird crossed the borders of their story to seek help.

Who was more in the right: the sorcerer, who bound the land but kept it from harm, or the prince, who blindly freed it but could do little more for it than that?

[as Koschei speaks, the silhouettes of the prince and the skeletal human figure from the mingle move across the canvas to enact his words. the sorcerer looms over the prince, pointing and mouthing silent words; the prince stiffens briefly, then glances between a sword and some nebulous mist that have appeared on either side of him. he reaches for the sword, shaking the stiffness off and stabbing the sorcerer through the breast; behind him, the mist shudders in a pained fashion and dissipates, as the sorcerer falls to the ground.

you find yourselves jerked about by the chains you wear, in a crude parody of one character’s actions; you have no choice about which one you enact and must go through the motions.

(ghostly images flicker behind the shadows as well, fragments of memory from Aather . . . the Darkness chasing Firebird through a hedgemaze, causing the scenery around her to warp; members of teams asking her if she can fix something and her shaking her head sadly; the Firebird conjuring animals and people from fire and magic, but the creatures simply burning away after a time no matter how much power she feeds them.)]

For this round, Algae and Rena are bound to the role of the sorcerer.Tetsu, Mirage and Lilypad are bound to the role of the prince.

Edited 2014-09-21 02:25 (UTC)

Please answer individually. All answers are public and can be heard by everyone in your group.

[All of you feel a dull, constrictive ache in your chest and joints; though it is still possible to move and breathe and function, it is more difficult. You feel frustrated and trapped and angry at this situation, at yourselves, at everyone. Any ugly thoughts you have ever had about those in the room with you pound in the forefront of your minds. You want to fight.

Also, Lilypad has vanished.]

Edited 2014-09-21 02:54 (UTC)

[you find yourself standing win a group, crowded uncomfortably close together under an enormous, leafless ḑ̘̭̣̜e͎̤̗a̺̣̘̫̟̼d̰͎́ ͏̯͙̖̱o̠a̮͕̲k̻ ͓̹̩̀t̮̹r̛̤̩̮͉̞e͎e҉̰̬͎͕͎͉͈, in the middle of a courtyard with high stone walls and a floor of h̷ą̩̗̠͙ͅr̺̘̺̱͓d̼̯̗̙̞̘-̲̩͔͍̹p̶̗͇͖͓̪a̱͘c͓̺̹̖̯̝͠k̴͓̹͓͙̯̺e͈͕̩̩̱͉ḓ͇ ̘͚̲̩͠e̴̘̭̻̹a͎̭̝̻͠r̥͕͙̼͓͙̲th̵̥̠͉̻.̫͕ while ivy and grass grew in profusion here once, all of it that you can see is charred and dead as well. the sun is high, as it has always been in Firebird’s realm, and the s̫͓̞̦̮̳h̡ad̟͞ò̞̟̰͓w̦͠s͝ are deep.

all of you are wearing c̪̰i̴̗̦̩̯̩̞r͎̫̻̙̺̗̩c̫l̼̱͓̻e̵̗̬̰͚s͓͟ ̖̲͉͚̤ͅo̷̜͕̜̹̟͉f̺̰ ̥͇̠̯͟b̕ļa̖͍͖̦c͕͈̗̫̫̺k̠̘ i̜̬͈̣͖̠ṛ͔̰̥̦̼̤͜o͉͙͘ń ̥͙c͙̼̼̭̫͎͔h͍̱ai͎͙͝n͏̲̭͕̱͔ on your wrists, ankles and necks. though they do not c̘̪͓̫̮̘͢o̵̫͎ͅn͖͔̜͖̺̝̯s̶t͍̗r̮̟ìc͖̩̹t͟ ̨͕͇͈̼y̮̺͎͢o̺͠ͅu̺͍̫r̸͉̣̗̬̪̟ ̴̜̬̫m̜̪o̯͕̮̯̺ͅv͓̰͍̹̬̤͉e͍̪̗̘̣͙͢m͎̥͉̪̟̫e͇̺̗n̨̳̞̰͎̝̹t̺̤̯̖̹̞͟ right now, they are bitingly cold and uncomfortable to wear, and c̠̥̻͚͍͟ḁ̠̞̗͈͠ͅn҉̖̹͖no̷̠̰̥̭͙̙͈t̵̙͎̠̖̱̖͓ ̠̦̙͎̳b̠e̛ ͔̺͓̫r̼̺̦͖̻̗̪e̜̣͢m̘͚̖̯̻o̢͍̰̜̜͈̥v͓̼͖̖e̻̱̭͚̺ͅd̺̮.̴̩͖̠̪̭

there is a ̧̫͙̩̱̺ͅt͢h͢e̮̗͈͙̩͈͞r̜͕̖̭͉̥e̡̹̳̺ ̧͕i̱̩͇͝ͅs̰͓̤ ̴̰͍a̡ ̴̫̭▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

no.

the piece of canvas is gone. you can see the figures behind it, which were previously making the shadows; they bear little resemblance to the prince and sorcerer except in silhouette. like this, laid bare, they are badly-formed puppets, wood and copper wire overlaid with feathers and scraps of flesh. there is yet another curtain behind them, sheerer this time; you can move freely in the space otherwise, but you cannot pass or look behind the material.

something about the room is subtly wrong, overall; the air feels glitchy, and tiny tears everywhere in the fabric of the air and scenery bleed white fire.]

Koschei's voice sounds staticy but ironic. Refusing to make a choice is in itself a choice, is it not? What fine freedoms you have created for yourselves.

The scene replays:

The prince stumbled haplessly onto the sorcerer’s doorstep, and was about to receive a just punishment for his trespass, when the songbird intervened and gave him a choice: a sword to kill the sorcerer, or her own magic to use on what the sorcerer had bound. The foolish prince saw only what was in front of him and chose to take the sword and kill.

But when the sorcerer was gone, his magic which had bound and protected the land and his captives faded, and darker enemies arose. One wrong decision, and the prince and the songbird were left with an unprotected kingdom, with people they had no way of protecting, and no way to make the realm flourish once more. They were forced to leave it as it was, and the songbird crossed the borders of their story to seek help.

Who was more in the right: the sorcerer, who bound the land but kept it from harm, or the prince, who blindly freed it but could do little more for it than that?

[as Koschei speaks, the puppets of the sorcerer and the prince move to enact his words. the sorcerer looms over the prince, pointing and mouthing silent words; the prince stiffens briefly, then glances between a sword and some nebulous mist that have appeared on either side of him. he reaches for the sword, shaking the stiffness off and stabbing the sorcerer through the breast; this time, you see blood spout. behind him, the mist shudders in a pained fashion and dissipates, as the sorcerer falls to the ground. the puppets are jerky, wire tendons straining; sometimes a gasp like a sob emerges from a twisted throat.

you find yourselves jerked about by the chains you wear, in a crude parody of one character’s actions; you have no choice about which one you enact and must go through the motions.

(ghostly images flicker on the remaining "screen" behind the morbid play as well, fragments of memory from Aather: the Darkness chasing Firebird through a hedgemaze, causing the scenery around her to warp; members of teams asking her if she can fix something and her shaking her head sadly; the Firebird conjuring animals and people from fire and magic, but the creatures simply burning away after a time no matter how much power she feeds them.)]

For this round, Tetsu and Rena are b▓▓▓d to the role of the sorcerer. Algae and Mirage are bou?d to the role of the prince.

Edited 2014-09-21 02:55 (UTC)

they will hear you

[the scenery all falls down, down, down.

it's very dark here. there's nothing else. Koschei's voice is flat and neutral.]

The tales have been written, the tales have been twisted, the tales have been told -- and this section, broken.

In order to leave: what do you think the Firebird’s final form should be?

Edited 2014-09-21 03:54 (UTC)