Last Act
Mar 29, 2007 21:55:26 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2007 21:55:26 GMT -5
“Forces.... Ah, dear Forces! Please forgive me for taking it upon myself to attempt the retrieval of departed souls. I know now, I have obligations to the living, but indeed I have neglected them: My honored parents, my subjects, my Princess consort and the babe cradled safely in her womb. Please forgive me, Forces!” Prince Shihido beseeched, arms lifted entreatingly to the sky, tears shimmering unshed in his eyes. “Allow me to atone for my sins, and I will betray no one -not my people, not the Forces, and not myself- for the rest of my life, and beyond!” he begged, hands coming to press over his heart.
Lightning generated by one of the Storm crew flashed, followed by ominous thunder sounded by the drums, and he shuddered. “No.... I see. Only my life will balance the scales,” he whispered brokenly, and closed his eyes, tears finally trailing down his powdered cheeks. “Oh, Forces, you can indeed be cruel. But if that is your will, then who am I to fight against you? So be it.” He stepped forward, arms spreading wide at waist level as he took a shaking breath.
“It’s only forever,” he sang hauntingly, achingly into the awed hush,
“It’s not long at all.... Lost and lonely-
Ah, no one will blame you
For turning your faces away;
The truth will be seen now
In the cold light of the day.”
As he sang, Da’cien Lyra, the actor portraying Prince Shihido, poured his soul into the words and let his heart bleed the emotions as he went through the simple but striking motions of the agonizing prince for the scene that had the audience sobbing. And also, just for a moment, he let himself outshine everyone else, because he was truly happy to be here at this moment, performing this art, this beauty.
Da’cien’s voice caressed the last note with purity and softness, lowering his head and closing his eyes as he turned away from the audience, then sadly looked up and let the song turn into a terrified scream. Even though he knew it was coming, the arrival of the actor portraying Taed still scared him every time; that was how powerful the story and costume effect was. “Prince Shihido” fell to his knees, scrambling away from his fate. “No,” he whispered in horror as Taed’s black cape momentarily hid him from view, and as quickly as he’d come, Taed swept off the stage. Da’cien stayed frozen for just the right amount of time before slowly tipping sideways, collapsing limply to the stage with his hair spilling everywhere in just the right places, and his crown tumbled to spin and clatter on the floor, such lovely symbolism.
The curtain fell and the crowd went wild, their cheers and applause stilling only when the curtain rose again. A “funeral procession” moved off the stage, “mourners” weeping and scattering blackened flowers, the actress playing the heavily pregnant Princess consort walking with cold grief and resolve by the litter borne by six men, a hand on the arm of the Prince who lay pale and still, covered to his chin in black “silk”, a single red rose tucked on his chest. She spoke the closing lines “I will go on, beloved, with your lessons to guide me,” and the play ended as the “procession” vanished from sight.
The bows and curtain calls were taken moments later, with Da’cien, the undisputed star of the night, coming out last to bow grandly and thank everyone for coming. “It was a pleasure and an honor for us to perform for you tonight,” he called, and as one, everyone took their final bows.
It was the middle of the night before all the spectators were gone, and the stage and props put away. Now it was time to celebrate a job well done. Da’cien headed for the costume wagon across the way while everyone else hurried to refresh themselves. The redheaded artist preferred to break character completely and return to himself before he did anything else after a play. Malleable as he was, Da’cien needed to remind himself his roles were only temporary, and the “masks” he wore had to be removed after every performance.
Yawning, the young man reached to unlock the door of the costume wagon, when abruptly it felt as though his head exploded. Tumbling off the steps, Da’cien did not even hit the ground, instead caught by two pairs of rough hands that hauled him into the darkness.
Lightning generated by one of the Storm crew flashed, followed by ominous thunder sounded by the drums, and he shuddered. “No.... I see. Only my life will balance the scales,” he whispered brokenly, and closed his eyes, tears finally trailing down his powdered cheeks. “Oh, Forces, you can indeed be cruel. But if that is your will, then who am I to fight against you? So be it.” He stepped forward, arms spreading wide at waist level as he took a shaking breath.
“It’s only forever,” he sang hauntingly, achingly into the awed hush,
“It’s not long at all.... Lost and lonely-
Ah, no one will blame you
For turning your faces away;
The truth will be seen now
In the cold light of the day.”
As he sang, Da’cien Lyra, the actor portraying Prince Shihido, poured his soul into the words and let his heart bleed the emotions as he went through the simple but striking motions of the agonizing prince for the scene that had the audience sobbing. And also, just for a moment, he let himself outshine everyone else, because he was truly happy to be here at this moment, performing this art, this beauty.
Da’cien’s voice caressed the last note with purity and softness, lowering his head and closing his eyes as he turned away from the audience, then sadly looked up and let the song turn into a terrified scream. Even though he knew it was coming, the arrival of the actor portraying Taed still scared him every time; that was how powerful the story and costume effect was. “Prince Shihido” fell to his knees, scrambling away from his fate. “No,” he whispered in horror as Taed’s black cape momentarily hid him from view, and as quickly as he’d come, Taed swept off the stage. Da’cien stayed frozen for just the right amount of time before slowly tipping sideways, collapsing limply to the stage with his hair spilling everywhere in just the right places, and his crown tumbled to spin and clatter on the floor, such lovely symbolism.
The curtain fell and the crowd went wild, their cheers and applause stilling only when the curtain rose again. A “funeral procession” moved off the stage, “mourners” weeping and scattering blackened flowers, the actress playing the heavily pregnant Princess consort walking with cold grief and resolve by the litter borne by six men, a hand on the arm of the Prince who lay pale and still, covered to his chin in black “silk”, a single red rose tucked on his chest. She spoke the closing lines “I will go on, beloved, with your lessons to guide me,” and the play ended as the “procession” vanished from sight.
The bows and curtain calls were taken moments later, with Da’cien, the undisputed star of the night, coming out last to bow grandly and thank everyone for coming. “It was a pleasure and an honor for us to perform for you tonight,” he called, and as one, everyone took their final bows.
It was the middle of the night before all the spectators were gone, and the stage and props put away. Now it was time to celebrate a job well done. Da’cien headed for the costume wagon across the way while everyone else hurried to refresh themselves. The redheaded artist preferred to break character completely and return to himself before he did anything else after a play. Malleable as he was, Da’cien needed to remind himself his roles were only temporary, and the “masks” he wore had to be removed after every performance.
Yawning, the young man reached to unlock the door of the costume wagon, when abruptly it felt as though his head exploded. Tumbling off the steps, Da’cien did not even hit the ground, instead caught by two pairs of rough hands that hauled him into the darkness.