At last, all the guests were seated. Meissa was told to please be quiet while the show was going. Isra had the doors closed and lingered in the back to keep an eye on the audience, perhaps to ensure they all kept quiet and respectful. There was still some chattering, but then the lights began to dim and the voices quieted as well until all was silent.

"Welcome, dear audience, to the Cepheus Theater!" A twinkling, feminine voice echoed sweetly through the theater. If one listened really hard they may detect something buzzingly familiar. "Please refrain from any recording devices, disruptive behavior, sounds, lights, or any magic in general that may be disruptive or you will be REMOVED from the premises!" She seemed to be trying really really hard to sound professional.

"Now, please enjoy...Song of Tomorrow!"

From somewhere, a drumroll began to rise as spotlights from nowhere flicked onto the stage. The red curtain rolled elegantly open as the stage lights brightened. Behind the curtains was revealed a cityscape at daytime, with a small building, what looked like a bakery on the right side as a set piece, and a balcony on the other.

Music began to swell as the show began...

Characters may now begin to perform! The story, besides its outline, has been put into YOUR characters' very capable and creative hands! All characters may assume that there are background ensemble characters that they can use at their whim (these will be illusions Nemean conjures that cannot speak but can act and dance). You can also assume, at any time, that the "orchestra" will follow you into song and the lighting will do what you need it to do.

When performing in scenes, try not to linger on them for too long, especially if they are one on one scenes. There is no general posting order, unless we get into a scene that requires it (in which case I will say stick to an order). When you are ready for a scene change, gm tag for it. Otherwise, I will pop in and out to add effects or story moments as needed.

When in scenes not requiring the entire cast, please only ping the characters in the scene. All participants will be pinged on scene changes.

Please feel free to act as you like and take the story in weird directions, as long as you are sticking to the information given to you about your character! Rewards will depend on the way in which you participate and will be different for each cast member. And, most importantly, HAVE FUN!!

(audience members may post at any time, but any disruptions will have them thrown out immediately!)

Cast List
Fabio (lead) - played by Ruse
Gryffin (main antagonist) - played by Triage
Marcel (romantic interest) - played by Bauxite-T-One
Sebastien (romantic interest) - played by The Piano
Mabilia (romantic interest) - played by Karambit
Ludvic (side character) - played by Archon
Tristan (antagonist) - played by Coilean
Rory (minor character) - played by Velveteen

Act 1, Scene 1
Aria Town Square

@Honk @Worm @Ruse @Archon @Triage @Karambit @The Piano @Bauxite-T-One @Coilean @Velveteen

In the audience, two black-cloaked, masked figures sat side-by-side. One, with twisted horns and glowing red eyes, had a bit of popcorn to snack on as he slid into his seat. The one he was choosing to sit beside had antlers, instead, and glanced to him quizzically as he sat.

The Collector tossed some popcorn into his mouth and crunched. Then he chewed and swallowed, before speaking because he was no savage. (And both of them kept their voices down, because the show was about to begin!)

"A fantastic idea our Master had, drawing the lot of these creatures into the arts, don't you think?"

The Blacksmith stared. "What did you... do?"

"Oh, come now, you know how I adore music."

Silence.

The Collector sighed. He leaned in close, voice soft. "Tell me... you didn't have any of the drinks before the show, did you? -No? Good. Or a shame, depending upon your predilections, I suppose. Well. ...This should be fun, regardless." It was maybe just a little odd how his attention was as much on the audience as on the stage.

He offered a little wave toward The Piano when he saw it, too. Ahh, he hoped this would be a show to remember.

---

Players whose characters had any drinks in the preshow may decide whether these characters were afflicted by a mild poison added to some drinks. Those whose characters ingested 'poisoned' drinks will take two points of Corruption, with the accompanying urges toward Chaos, but will also experience vivid (if relatively mild) hallucinations that will last one to three hours, depending on the dose. These hallucinations may be anything from brighter colors and sounds to hearing conversations or music, or seeing interactions, that do not actually exist.

Surely, it will only make the show more fun.

The train, who was not invited and had shown no prior interest in being a part of this play, was suddenly here now. And right at curtain call. After the curtains rose, and the light beams aimed onto the stage, the first thing anybody would see against the theater's 12th century Earth themed backdrop would be the chitinous mass of the train, traveling right across.

The Song of Tomorrow would open with the rather anachronistic and disturbing display of this very train depositing its befuddled protagonist in the center of the stage. The lights would naturally follow as the train would squeeze its girth past stage left, rise up and drop a sopping wet Fabio right out of its stomach at stage center, and then roll out of audience view at stage right. Never to be seen again.

It's all you, Ruseypoo.

- exit thread for ever -

[OOC note: I would love to use the evil pink table for this but given that it is eyestraining to read and Ruse is about to have a lot of posts in here that I want people to read, it's gonna be bare bones for now. lmao.]

Maybe hy should have better prepared for this. Oh well.

~~~ WELCOME TO CENTER STAGE: FABIO ~~~

The world of the Song of Tomorrow would open with this wet and warm display, as most Gembound's lives do in these caves. Fabio wasn't naked, however; the implication was that at some point cycles prior, he had already hatched and developed a sense of style. The juices soaking into his peasant costume, then, were merely an unfortunate natural consequence of the 12th century's robust public transport system, which it totally had. Don't google anything, you're watching a play right now. Be respectful.

As any good law abiding citizen does after using the train, Fabio furiously shakes the train slobber off his body, flinging spittle into the audience. Now that's a four-dimensional experience!

Initially, Fabio is turned around, committing the cardinal sin of showing the audience his back. In this moment it is possible to see that Ruse's wings have been folded underneath his costume. Because this isn't Ruse; it's Fabio! Who is confused-! In this brand new city! It's understandable. He quickly gathers his wits about him and turns on the heel. He miscalculates and appears to stumble, but he does not fall-! And that's the most important part!

Bless Fabio's familiarly humanoid face—his emotional range is quite grand. His eyes are gleaming with starstruck fascination at the stage surrounding him and the ceiling above the audience's head: the town square of Aria! Magical shades resembling a bustling crowd are passing back and forth behind Fabio, carrying on with their days. But for Fabio, it is clear: this day and all the days hereafter would be nothing close to average for him.

The music begins to swell.

[singing]
"Hello all! My name is Fabio!"
"Hello all! In this city, today!"
"The grandest Aria! My country's capital."
"How I'm glad, to be ginning my stay!"

It's a curious word choice, but the piano adapts. The song is plucky and bright, matching the wonder in Fabio's expressions. Fabio does not stand still as he sings, by the way. He takes up a great deal of space with his prancing and gesturing around the stage. He springs over to the bakery set piece, appearing to ponder the sign in front, before springing to the balcony on the other side of the stage to admire it. He continues to do this touristy examination of various make-believe buildings and landmarks around the stage, as well as trying to greet the phantom people, who pass right around him or through him.

His clothes may clue some into the fact that he is not very wealthy. They are plain and forgettable: a white shirt, brown work pants. Being soaked doesn't help the impression. The drabness starkly contrasts Ruse's bright technicolor fur. The one feature within the costume is a bright blue feather in Fabio's cap, which dangles off one of his horns. The feather trails after Fabio's movements, highlighting his jumpy, graceful actions. Or, it would if it wasn't weighed down by train saliva.

~~~ WHO WOULD LIKE TO GO NEXT? ~~~

Archon edged out onto the stage. He had no idea how this was meant to go; nobody'd even considered a rehearsal, let alone cooperation. He'd talked and practiced some with Coilean but he'd never even met Ruse; he didn't realize, until he heard Ruse literally announce the name, that this was their lead: Fabio!

He hastened out. His own wings had no real way to hide, so he didn't bother: they arched black behind him. His clothing was kind of atrocious, with formal black suit mated to ruffled white Victorian-style white dress shirt, but at least (after much insistence from Mimosa) he'd removed the formal tie.

Archon tried to both keep the quiver of nervousness from his tone (sort of well) and match 'Fabio's' oratory style (a little better) as he stepped out and alongside the new lead. Oh!

And he remembered, at the last moment, that he'd decided alongside Coilean that they would both be deeply, secretly (for some reason neither of them understood, but apparently this was a Theater Thing), in love with Fabio. And each other. For the DRAMA. So he sidled a little closer to Ruse, and theatrically batted eyes at him and looked him over. They had no time for, room for, or understanding of all the weird props and such that he and Coilean had found in the... books, so he went for obvious adoration instead.

"Fabio, Fabio, you seem lost! Allow me to introduce myself... I am Ludvic!" He kept it very sing-song, melodic, as close to singing as he could manage in a speaking tone. And he tried, hard, not to look at the audience. He was more than nervous; he was scared. But at least he'd practiced a few potential lines in advance, memorizing some easy rhymes. "There's a home beside mine, at very low cost! It is a very... lovely... pick?" There; the offer of a home to make the lead his neighbor, to introduce him to the city.

And he made sure to pause before and after 'lovely,' and to look Ruse up and down again; he then focused on Ruse's lips, and cast his gaze away shyly before finishing that line.

That's how they did it in the books, at least. He hoped he'd gotten it right.

costume credit - big-ashb on flickr

Worm was full of hotdog and nerves; not a good start. But, the instructions were clear, stay out from under everyone's feet and don't muck up the show. Less he be gobbled up by the host. Which he had recently learned was the one person someone he cared about despised.

Either way he was doing a fantastic job at staying out of the way, huddled up by the side of the curtain, just under the folds with his paws over his head. Hyperventilating but quietly enough to not be heard over the music and acting; he was doing an extremely swell job of keeping his panic attack to himself. Truly a medal worthy performance on his behalf.

Right, right, he should also remove his paws from over his eyes in case anyone needed anything; even if it was that no-good Ruse. So Worm settled for keeping his paws over his nose, eyes and ears forward and ready for directions and not yet passed out from a lack of oxygen.

He was doing a fantastic job.

The Shepherd had learned... some subtlety, after its embarrassing defeat at the claws of the Champion. May he rest in Oil, nothing more than a rancid stain.

The Master Nemean had given him a role befitting of his stature, his magenta pedigree. He did not know what currency was, or business, but he knew he was born of it. Marcel bled gold, bathed in it. He knew himself as above the rabble, the gracious and rightful leader...

Fabio must be an extraordinarily good singer to woo such a creature.

Marcel pranced onto the scene, A black bow-tie wrapped around his neck (the real one). When he caught sight of the newcomers, he recoiled in disgust! So hard, in fact, the pockets of air in spine popped loudly.

"Strangers? In this city of mine??"
"So poorly dressed... Stinking of sweat..."

"The gravest of crimes." He punctuated the line with a creepy, high-pitched giggle, as if he were a mischievous ghoul and not the son of a businessman.

He could've, should've, left it at that. Perfectly serviceable performance. But he was the Shepherd, and after cycles of being his family's embarrassment, he must prove otherwise. "Why... If I were my father..." An odd filter began to overtake his voice, as if speaking through an old radio. "I'd have you killed."

The stage had become strangely quiet.

@Ruse @Archon

It is a universally acknowledged truth that all poisonous-hearted love interests must be exceedingly pretty—yes, even exceeding the lead and the main love interest themselves. Poisonously beautiful, even. The Piano slowly rolled onto stage in the background, ethereal waves of light dancing across its ebony-wood body and ivory-white keys, accentuating the shimmering golden makeup it had applied to itself. Light shimmered on the blossoms and embroidered cloth it had decorated itself with, too, and seemed to grant The Piano and all its accessories a luminous glow. Yet there was also a mystery to the way it hung back from the spotlights themselves despite its otherworldly beauty... and to the way low, not-quite-consonant harmonies whispered across its strings.

As Marcel made its ominous threat, the stage falling silent, The Piano decided that this was the perfect opportunity for the rival romantic interest to present itself. A lovely, golden respite in contrast to its dark violet threats. Thus, Sebastien rolled forth to meet the actors—and the audience.

It had decided sometime earlier that it must have a clear melodic refrain associated with its character. That pensive melody soared up now in The Piano's treble register. Meanwhile, it added lyrics to the song using keysmashes that somehow harmonized more than usual while still being recognizable as words and not pure chords—a far more difficult endeavor than most would imagine. The result was a voice that sounded like chiming crystals glimmering in the sun:

"Strangers, newcomers, city of wind and stone;
We meet, we seek, we wander far from home."

The melody died away as Sebastien resumed normal speech. Its lid was propped open lower than usual, but light played across the copper-toned strings hidden inside, as if they were eyes glancing up shyly through dark lashes. I can't believe I just wrote that sentence. "It is true that this stranger is not clothed in rich brocade, as we are, but... somehow, his inner self shines through, as richly colored as any cloth material wealth could buy."

A soft exhale, coaxing out a shimmering hum from its strings. "Fabio... was it? Surely we should be understanding of those who have struggled and strived to find their way here. I find myself having great sympathy for such a handsome, resilient soul..."

@Ruse @Bauxite-T-One