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| Skelemen, The Rebirthing Part Deux [O]; Open to one or two others. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sat Feb 3, 2018 5:37 pm (304 Views) | |
| Shan Orison | Fri Feb 9, 2018 11:10 pm Post #16 |
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Laithe giggled to himself as he watched the man in charge actually take charge at Skelemen's verbal prodding rather than simply shout. He still didn't know how he felt about something called an Obitu, or if the man himself was the ancient playwright he claimed to be or even if he planned later to use Laithe's skull for some creative pottery. Each interaction, however, made those gruesome possibilities more remote. "It...it's not a phobia," he admitted aloud, at last, choosing to continue to say what he'd kept hidden. "I mean, it wasn't at first. I suppose it is now, but...the people I live with play music. One plays the lute, and he saw what you saw: my fingers are scarred from playing an instrument. He offered I play his lute, his sister his drums. They even borrowed a fiddle but..." Laithe shuddered. The nausea returned, but more like a boulder in his stomach from the memories. Even if he could hear the notes, even if he could feel the rhythm. Even, when his fingers curled as though they were born around a violin, he could sense how to play... "I think I have a curse." He finally gave words to the fear. "I can't play anything. Whenever I try, it's....I don't know how to describe the feeling. I just feel...I want to die almost. Everything in the world feels twisted and wrong. I just want to...I don't want to touch any instrument, not with that on my head. I love music. It just hates me." |
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| Skelemen | Fri Feb 9, 2018 11:39 pm Post #17 |
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A curse... he sighed, "Curses... I was never skilled in magic so I wouldn't be able to help with that, any of my magic friends are dead by now or have a stake through their heart." He saw the curtain being put up, it was a drab thing, old, wrinkled, small holes dotting it. He brought a single finger to where his temple should be and rubbed it, "Please be good... just... please don't butcher a good play." The play was... oh gods it was terrible. The director had taken certain liberties as he was also the author that re-wrote part of the story to give it a different perspective. The Coven was originally a story about a group of witches that were driven into the swamp and were forced to use necromancy to raise the dead to fight for them, a man had falsely accused them of abducting his daughter when he had in fact accidentally killed her in a drunken rage. It was supposed to be a tragedy as the witches slowly lost themselves to their own magic as they kept on having to raise more and more undead as soldiers and mercenaries, fake heroes trying to cash in on glory, and even just villagers wielding pitchforks, kept on attacking them because they were different. It was supposed to be a lesson against attacking people without question and the evils of the undead. This play... it was about how absolutely vile the witches were and their revenge against the man by killing her daughter... the story took on a different tone, trying to be 'edgy' and 'gritty'. The two blue flames grew larger in his eye sockets, taking on the form of actual eyes, when the play ended he stood up, the director looked pleased, as if he was about to get a standing ovation, instead he caught a skeletal fist to his jaw. The Obitu was shaking with rage, "How dare you. This play was based on a real tragedy and you... you do THIS to it!? If you're going to butcher something and make it your own at least do it well!" He looked down as the fatman swore, standing up and reaching for a knife on his belt, instead the back of Skelemen's hand smacked him across the cheek as he spoke, "You are a disappointment. Robertson would be rolling over in his grave." With that he turned to the actors and began to lecture them, "During the song you must sing from deep in your stomach, it needs to be loud! Loud damn it! And you!" It went on for nearly an hour as he forced to go through new exercises and giving the stagehands tips on how to repair the equipment and props. Once that was done he gave them their final piece of advice, "Get a new director. This one's a hack." He turned back to the audience that had stayed to watch him berate the actors and bowed, "My apologies, I am a director and playwright myself, I could not help myself, please have a nice day." He motioned for the actors to bow before going back to Laithe, "Sorry about that I get... heated... when this kind of thing happens." |
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| Shan Orison | Sun Feb 11, 2018 7:40 pm Post #18 |
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Laithe grinned at the skeleton. "Considering how I was reading your book, I fear I have no place to judge. Besides, even though I don't know what this story was supposed to be, but I could see it being a good tragedy, maybe if those witches started out sympathetic, but things just went wrong? Either way," Laithe shook his head. "Whatever it was, that guy made everyone unlikeable. I half hoped all the characters would just die off so the play would end more quickly. That's...not a good sign. "I have to ask, though, what were you planning to do today? I doubt it was just to go clothes shopping and watch terrible plays." |
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| Skelemen | Tue Mar 6, 2018 12:15 am Post #19 |
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Skelemen would have raised an eyebrow at that statement... if he had eyebrows, so instead he shrugged, "Actually that was entirely it. I was a bit of a recluse back in the day, only going to a few big parties after my plays, otherwise I would go home and write a new play so I would never risk anyone find out who I was. Now? I can do as I please, so I felt like walking around, talking to someone, and buying new clothes in person." He smiled, "Is it so surprising that I had such plain plans as going to a bad play and buying clothes? I mean, sometimes it's just nice to have a calm day like this." |
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8:38 AM Jul 11

