We Shan't Meet on the Stage
"Cease thy folly at once, I say, for nothing good shall ever come to thee onto this... mmnhh... this path"
A brief silence.
"Ah! Mine to make the choice is not, friend dreast -dearest! It was but fate itself to pluck me from my... w-what was it... my roots and cast me aside! Following its whims and calls is all that to me is left, and... no, wait, that went... a-awawawa... "
Silence befell the dimly lit stage once more, albeith a much more awkward one than before. Ears twitched. Tails fluttered. A few drops of nervous sweat rolled down a forehead. And then steps echoed in the nearly empty hall, as firm as they were small, tracing an oscillating line atop the stage.
"Thine gaze thou cast only to see not a thing not once, for blind thou are" she said, spinning around once, twice, arms outstretched into the surrounding darkness "Thou can't see where thine feet stand upon, and yet on a path thou see thyself. But that path is not there!"
An heavy step, almost a stomp some might say, and a single clap of her hands. Back straight, tail lying low, ears still, only to twitch once and be still again. She then took a short step forward and reached out an hand, palm open and fingers curled: an offer as much as it was a demand, the space of three steps left between them.
"A choice thou claim to have made not, thus a choice of thee I ask!"
A short silence followed, once again. A short silence that grew longer, and longer, and longer still, stretching into an embarassing eternity. Or so that half a minute felt like, at least. A single, dry clap of gloved hands then cracked the air, allowing the tension to escape through the gaps and the nerves to relax.
"This is quite enough" a tall and slender feline said as he stepped out of the darkness, his voice calm, composed and reassuring, just like a familiar mask.
"M-mister Phantom, I'm terribly sorry!" Suzuran frantically apologized, bowing so much the tip of her ears nearly touched the ground, her tails wildly waving around to betray her nervousness even more than her voice did "I just -I couldn't recall my lines and- "
"Ease now, child, ease" he spoke, his reply quick but not overly so "You could perform this part fairly well just shy of three days ago. What happened?"
As he asked that, his gaze shifted to the co-star who had only recently joined. But even the motion of his eyes was too subtle for the two to catch. He did, in truth, know the answer to his own question, for he had seen such a situation himself before, on more than a single occasion. But hearing it from her, or rather, having her state it with her own voice, would've helped with getting past it.
"I-it's just... " Suzuran fidgeted, playing around with her own fingers as her ears sank down against her head, her gaze glued to the floor.
And then her eyes trailed up, slowly moving towards Shamare. The vulpo was staring back at her, her head tilted slightly to the side, on her face an expression that most wouldn't have been able to decypher. Suzuran, however, had been friends with her for long enough to understand that she was a bit upset.
"... I'm sorry" she simply said, afraid that the real answer might upset Shamare even more.
"Isn't this backward?" Shamare asked, her gaze moving towards Panthom "We should be trying the initial scenes first, not the later ones"
The feline returned her gaze with one of his own. Had Suzuran not been there, that small exchange of theirs would've been far colder, distant, impersonal, and ultimately more comfortable. For both.
"You speak the truth, but I'm afraid this whole production is rather backward in itself"
"Alas, I apologize for my uncouth performance" a fourth voice said "This unpleasant blunder was most definitively wrought forth by my own shortcomings, and for that you have my most humble apologies"
The lights turned on, illuminating the room in all its glory.
Which, truthfully, wasn't much. Not at all. As a matter of fact, there was none. They were standing in the middle of a mostly empty storeroom, a few pieces of broken furniture and components both electrical and mechanical pushed against the walls to free as much space as possible. There were only two lightbulbs inside there, both nearly burned, and one got screwed on and off whenever they needed to try a scene that required an especially dim light. As a matter of fact, said fourth voice had just finished screwing the second bulb back into its place and climbing down a ladder, something she always did whenever they rehearsed.
As for the act of rehearsing itself, well, that was by all means a case of putting the cart before the burdenbeast.
"Absolutely not, miss Pallas!" Suzuran said, shouted almost, as she hopped off the stage -metaphorically, as said stage was nothing more than a circle drawn on the floor- to walk up to the forte and hold her hands "Your writing is fascinating!"
"Your words are most kind, oh little friend of mine, but I cannot deny that the script still is indeed as far removed from a proper draft as it could be"
"Why are we rehearsing already, then?" Shamare asked.
A reasonable question. Panthom had asked the forte the same thing, not long ago.
"But of course, because we need all the passion we can gather!" she replied, lifting her hands up in an overly -fittingly?- theatrical expression of grandeur and earning a surprised yelp from Suzuran, who was still holding her.
"Ahem... are you sure you didn't mean practice?"
"Sure I am, young Suzuran!" she reaffirmed, letting go of the little vulpo to twirl around in place a couple of times before coming to an halt.
That little gesture of hers had earned her three wildly different kind of stares, but the priestess either didn't care, didn't notice or, perhaps, misinterpreted them. Though only one of them at most could be said to have some faintly negative connotations in the first place.
"A true master of the art has blessed us with his assistance" she explained as she somewhat overdramatically waved and hand towards Phantom "And I am certain that his guidance shall lead us all through the strifes and hardships that the stage carries with it. But a true performance requires passion! For the play lives, breathes, speaks and dies with every pulse of our beating hearts, and it is up to us to keep the flame of that passion burning tall and bright! It is for such reason that I believe these rehearsals are not premature at all, for it is through them that we can find and nurture the fire within ourselves!"
"I-is that so... " Suzuran commented, equally fascinated and startled by Pallas' sudden explanation.
Not like that was her first time witnessing one of the forte's outbursts of emotions -if they could be called that-, and she was even sober at the moment, which made her speech just that much more fluid and coherent, but... some things just took time getting used to.
Shamare, on her part, was both less aquaintained with the forte and nowhere near as impressed by her heartfelt speech, and she turned to Phantom with somewhat of an inquisitive gaze.
"Is that really so?"
The feline brought an hand to his chin and turned his face to the side a bit, to give the little vulpo a better view of his own visage. An old habit from his days on the stage, and one that didn't seem intentioned to die anytime soon.
"The world of minoan theater is no doubt different from that of Victoria. But there is indeed truth to what the director's said, of that I'm sure"
"You honor me with these most kind words of yours" Pallas thanked with a soft bow.
"Then let's try the scene again!" Suzuran exclaimed, only for Shamare to dramatically scale back her enthusiasm right away.
"Do you remember your lines now?"
"Ah... awawawa... "
"Let's take a break. You are merely amateurs, and exceptionally young too. There is no need to rush through the steps"
"Oh, sister Folinic always says to not overdo things too"
"But she always does it herself" Shamare chimed in.
"T-that's because the medic department is always so busy... "
"Shall we pay a visit to the cafeteria, then? I would be glad to offer you all a treat for your efforts"
"I'd love to!"
"... fine"
Shamare turned around briefly and bent down just enough to pick up Morte, who had at some point strolled towards her from the edge of the room and stopped at just an arm's length away from her.
"Are you not coming, Phantom?" Pallas asked as she held the door open for the two little vulpos as they walked out into the hallway.
The feline's gaze was not aimed at her, but at the floor. Or rather, at the circle drawn on it to represent the stage, a circle he had not once stepped inside of.
"I shall be there shortly"
"Is this perchance an artistic ritual of sort?"
The question itself sounded vaguely odd to him but, when he looked up to meet her gaze, he found something unexpected in the forte's eyes. Something deep and inquisitive, curious and yet composed.
"In a way, yes"
"Disturb you any longer I shan't then"
"I appreciate it"
Step, step, clank, step. And then Phantom found himself alone inside the room, taking slow steps around the makeshift stage, silent as a lifeless night.
Maybe that was a mistake. Whisperain was right, that variegated group of people trying to turn themselves into a troupe of sort had no hope of going anywhere without guidance. And, from a purely technical point of view, he was indeed the best person on Rhodes Island to provide said guidance, even though there were several aspects he himself wasn't too knowledgeable about when it came to the full production of a play. But the stage was...
... no. No, he had no need to take to the stage himself. A part of him truly wanted to believe she was right, that the whole ordeal would help him somehow. But no matter how switfly or silently he moved, optimism always managed to escape his grasp.
As for the group itself, he couldn't deny that they did bring somewhat of a smile to his face. Shamare turned out to be surprisingly talented as an actress, but why exactly she had suddenly decided to give theater a try in the first place eluded him. And he could feel a certain kind of apathy in her, an apathy that didn't seem entirely spontaneous. Suzuran, on the other hand, was painfully average as far as acting skills were concerned, perhaps even a little mediocre, but she had all the enthusiasm the other vulpo was lacking and then some. Though having so suddenly witnessed the stark difference between them seemed to have put somewhat of a dent in that. A most comprehensible reaction, but one he had to take care of nonetheless.
And then there was the director, Pallas. The whole idea of putting on a play out of nowhere apparently came to her in one of her drunken stupors, or so Phantom had managed to infer, and it was clear that she had bore witness to many a play during her life. Possibly even more than the feline himself had starred in. But watching a play and creating one were entirely different things, and it showed. Not to mention that her drafting process was all over the place.
He would've very much liked to go over all the other members of that troupe of theirs in his mind, to figure out what had to improve and how he could work on it, but... well, there weren't any others. Not surprising, no: it'd been barely ten days since they had embarked on that journey, but he just... doubted they would get many applications in the future. Little Suzuran seemed to have an exceptional reputation on the landship, one that bordered on being concerning if he had to be honest about it, but Shamare turned out to have a somewhat... opposite aura surrounding her. Such contrast would surely help fill the seats, yes, but it also seemed to be making a good job at keeping applicants away. Not to mention that, well, people on Rhodes were busy.
Pallas seemed to be somewhat of a special case -how exactly, Phantom hadn't pried into- but even Shamare and Suzuran could only manage to spare some time for rehearsals every other day. As for himself, he was currently on what Whisperain had described as "forced vacation caused by injuries sustained on the field", but once that timeframe was over... who knew how they could even find enough time to pull together a decent performance.
... who knew, indeed.
No. No, he was approaching it the wrong way. But... but he was approaching it. That was already more than he'd expected, wasn't it?
Now look at that. A start.
But enough. The others were waiting for him and, one way or another, he had given them his word he would join them at the canteen.
"Ms. Christine"
He felt the cat standing just a short distance from him before seeing her, her gaze fixed on the door. Surely she had just returned from a stroll. And then he felt it. He felt it, but he couldn't tell what 'it' was. Something familiar, approaching.
... no. No, that was nothing familiar. It felt such, somehow, but it wasn't. How... disturbing.
The door then swung open, and standing there on the entrance was a woman. Silvery hair reaching the floor, pale skin, and eyes so red their very color made Phantom feel a slight tinge of unease, her gaze shifting from Christine to him to some place away and distant, only to slowly come back and finally settle on him. Clad in a frilly, rather elaborate red dress, with an hat resembling that of a witch on her head, the woman's very presence got him on edge.
Wrong. Something about her was wrong. Christine felt it too, but the cat didn't move, standing between Phantom and that foreign entity instead.
Christine dear. I truly don't deserve you.
"... can I sing here?" she eventually asked.
"That is a difficult question to answer. Every place allows one to sing, just like not one does. It depends on what you are looking for"
"I've heard... that there are people... staging a play"
She spoke calmly. No, not calmly. Slowly. As if the words didn't quite come naturally to her.
"You've heard correctly"
"Do you... need someone to sing?"
"That question is for the director to answer"
"Then I wish to... speak with her"
"... that can be arranged"
Ms. Christine stood up and walked towards Phantom. But, unlike usual, she didn't rub herself against his leg.
"I would appreciate it"
Pallas would let her join the group. He just knew it. They did need more hands, that much was true. But that woman would probably... probably what?
Warp. Yes, she would warp it all before it could even properly take form. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but she would. Of that he was sure. And yet at the same time, a part of him wondered just how she would look on the stage.
"Have you ever acted before?"
"In a way. But no... no, I haven't"
Truthfully, Phantom had never been sure that play of theirs would ever get anywhere.
"They call me Phantom now"
"My name is Skadi" the woman replied.
But now... now he couldn't help but feel that they shouldn't go on the stage at all.
"My name is Skadi" the woman repeated "Would you like to hear my song?"
Now that was an easy question to answer.
Wasn't it?
Thank you for reading.