𝕰𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙 2021_Day 09 [Treat]

~Original~

Category: Theater, Philosophical Dialogue, Comedy/Tragedy.

Trigger Warning: Existentialism Themes, Talk about Death, Animal Skulls.

𝕯𝖆𝖞 𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊: 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖐

Hershel had breathed and drunk theater since he was in the cradle, due to his parents' job. They were one of the most renowned mask and costume maker family business in all Illinois, because their products were hand-made and seemed to come to life during the plays, since they were so much well manufactured and realistic.

And now it was Hershel's turn to continue the tradition.

Like everyone in the family line, his debut had to be done in the annual Theater Festival in Amity Park and the costume/mask had to be tailored only in the period between the previous event and the one of the actual participation, so one year.

The clothes of his costume were simple by design: black sweatshirt, black pants and black dress shoes. They weren't the focus.

The focus were the two masks he spent sweat, tears, a bit of blood and time to make from scratch by using his family's traditional techniques.

Hershel had started with scavenging all the countryside of his hometown without success, until in one antiquary he found the skull of a fox, his first target.
For the second he had contacted every sheep farm until one of them was available to let him purchase the skull of a ram. The one he found was gorgeous: it was from a breed known for sporting multiple pairs of horns¹* and this one had two. The upper pair had grown vertically in long twisted double helixes, while the lower pair was curled inwards (towards the muzzle), almost drawing a spiral.

The next part was the most tedious one: Hershel had to reconstruct the physiology of both animals with vegetal products, such as tinted pin leaves for the fur, wood for the flesh and resin as glue. The only "artificial" elements allowed, no, mandatory, were the marbles for the ocular bulbs… that he had to make himself.
The philosophy behind it was that since the eyes were the windows of the soul, to "give life" to a mask you should "pour" a bit of yours into it through effort²*. And glass-making was a lot of effort, even with the necessary professional tools, above all if you're aiming for a realistic looking eye, not mentioning two, which had to be almost identical.
(Of course, all of this had to be done while either studying or working, so a year was a reasonable, almost too short, amount of time.)

But Hershel had succeeded.
The masks were ready a month before the Festival and he had time to write, study and practice the script for his exhibition, since it was summer.
(He had already written down a guideline, but the actuation of it… required more time and work.)

Therefore, Hershel practiced whenever he could, until both scripts were one with him.

The young man had made those masks and he was so proud of them that he wanted to honor them and his family tradition.

The time that before had seemed to flow away like sand in a hourglass, now it trudged like molasses, before he could find himself on the stage during the night of the Festival.
(Phantom's presence had been booked for security measures in advance and there he sat, looking curiously at the newcomer.)

On the doorsteps of Fall, the Equinox, Hershel wore the Fox of Comedy and the Ram of Tragedy.

He gracefully danced with laughter on silent vulpine steps, chanting about the beauty of life and the joys it brought.

He heavily stomped irate tip-tap steps with the hooves of a ram, crowing gravelly on the ephemerality of life and the sorrows it left.

(A hidden and ignored part of his mind had noticed the audience tense at the start of his monologue and Phantom make reassuring gestures to them, but his whole being was focused on concluding his roles and nothing could distract him.)

Fox and Ram dialogued through him, even quarreling at a certain point, if it was worth to be born and live a life, since it was doomed to end after all.

At the end, they agreed that there couldn't be a definitive answer, it all depended on how one's time was lived and ended, entrusting the loved ones left behind to decide or realize what impact that person had on them.
The only obligation each person had to themselves was to try to live at their fullest, with as little regrets and causing as little harm as possible, afterlife included, because until one's soul dispersed or passed on (a "real" death), they had the right to exist in this world.

Mask in each hand, arms crossed and bowing, Hershel got his identity back and his roles were complete.

Silence descended on the theatre, until a loud sniffle sliced through it, then a pair of hands started clapping, hard.

Slowly, Hershel rose his head, coming upon a stunned audience (with some of them even shiny eyed) and a weeping (but smiling and applauding) Phantom.

Beside the actor, a golden spectral fox wagged its tail, pleased, while a see-through black-gray 4-horned ram rasped a hoof on the floor, raising its head proudly.

(Those two hadn't been there when he had started the act… or had been, all along?
Their presence didn't feel alien to him, it was even comforting.
Yes, maybe they had accompanied him during his journey.)

One of the wet-eyed spectators joined Phantom's applause, prompting the rest, one by one, to do the same. Soon, it turned into a standing ovation that lasted a quarter of hour.

…Probably the Ram and the Fox had been right: others could decide if one's life had been worth living, but you could only try to do it at its fullest.

This response from the spectators had been what Hershel had been dreaming of, since he could remember… and it made him content to have been born.

¹*Hebridean sheep, their coat is usually deep black and they could have (in rare cases) up to 8 horns in total or no horns at all.

²*This is no horcrux. xD It works more like those "possessed" items that after a certain amount of time/care gain sentience.

A/N. I don't know how this could come out of my pen.
I'm in no way, shape or form poetic or philosophic (as a matter of fact, I didn't dive into the detailed monologue because of this), but in just few hours I wrote this story.
And… I can consciously say that I find it gorgeous. Up until now, I think that this is the "Domestic Phantoms" I'm most proud of (and "Cryptid" and "Day 25" are high on the list!). The themes are a bit heavy, I know, but given that Tragedy is all about hard things it was probably a given.

About the tradition I created on Hershel's family: the relatives have to be in the audience, but they can't be the ones who start applauding, because it's the public that decides if the debut had been successful or not (much like in the Monologue…). Family could have bias, after all.

Now, Trivia Time: why I chose a fox for Comedy and a ram for Tragedy?
Fox are in many cultures notorious tricksters, so Comedy was a given.
For Tragedy things are a bit more complex. I went researching on the origins of the word/plays in ancient Greece and apparently the first theater plays were a contest where the winner would gain a sheep/ram. "Tragedy" literally means "Ode for the Ram". I searched for the most gorgeous breeds and I came upon the Hebridean sheep, so the choice was simple after that.
(BTW, the spirits Hershel helped create were appearing/dancing beside him whenever he put on their mask.)

If Danny seemed out of character, my reasoning is that through this Monologue he was practically validated as a sentient being, plus the Right to Exist affected him. So, yeah…

Hope you liked this as much as me, type ya tomorrow!

Will Day 10 be Mummy or Doppelganger? Check in "Domestic Phantoms" and you'll find out!