the mark of those who cannot be saved

[stagemanagers]

[You remember dying. Maybe the memory is clear and bright and your body still aches from the cause. Maybe it was fast enough that you didn't feel it and don't remember what you went through. But no matter how you went out, that's no excuse for truancy! Which is to say: you are still in the school.

For those executed, you will wake up in your beds. The dormitories look exactly as they did when you first arrived, without any of the changes or personal effects you and your dormmates might have made. The only real difference is that the little cot in Ambassador isn't there.

For those who were victims, you will wake where your body was discovered. All of your injuries are gone, and you feel fine. It's almost like you're still alive - but you remember what happened to you. It couldn't have just been a dream, could it?

The school looks much as you remember it, save perhaps for a few key differences. For one, there's no groundhog murals anywhere. Where things were green on the other side, like banners or paint, you'll find that here they're blood red.

The doors, for the moment, are still locked. Looks like even death couldn't free you.]

Week 1 | Week 2 | Week 3 | Week 4 | Week 5

(( ooc: Welcome to deadland, everyone! It mostly resembles the school here, and new floors will be revealed after new people die. For example, the second area will unlock after the week 3 dead arrive, and so on. Also, all dead characters will wake up at their actual canonpoint, with all lost memories restored. Have fun being dead! ))

Comments

[violentenvies]

[Salieri can't help but look pleased as Discord agrees, and he'll go over to one of the mounds of pillows and settle himself, patting one of the pillows next to him, before getting to work on rolling up a blunt. It's similar enough to rolling a cigarette that he really is not having any trouble here]

[violentenvies]

I...I can't say that I have.

[come on Salieri pull it together]

You, ah...it's...it's good to see you, Mumble. In any form.

[alchemistake]

Oh, an excellent choice.

[Said the 16 year old as he reached into his pocket for matches-

But at least he's rigged each one of these bombs with some pretty long ass fuses, so they can set bomb #3 out in the middle of the field away from the rest of the bombs (as well as themselves) and he'll still be a reasonable distance off when he actually lights the fuse.

Once everything else is squared away, he cups both hands around his mouth and shouts.]

FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!

[Match is lit, fuse is lit, TIME TO GET AWAY]

[disharmonizes]

[Well, this is happening. They can just sit down then, and get started on this. Discord just taking that blunt once it's ready and they can just sit a while.

...Honestly, for a bit there, it's a little underwhelming.]

So is this supposed to be doing anything yet, or...?

[violentenvies]

[Salieri chuckles at that, reaching out to take that blunt back and pull a drag off of it, blowing out the smoke lazily before he hands it back]

Give it a moment. You didn't realize you were drunk at first, either.

[disharmonizes]

Yes, but being drunk was still a very different experience. This just feels the same. I'm pretty sure, anyway.

[voicerights]

I understand that A-B-C is similar to do-re-mi, but...[it begins to write on the board. There's a few more markers off to the side, within easy reach, and presumably Salieri knows how that kind of thing works by now.]...what I am essentially doing is turning a program in to performance, one capable of affecting reality.

[what's with that guitar strumming in the background? Who cares, the SQUIP is trying to ignore it, if it even notices it in the first place]

Discord does it by second nature, but I do not think it is possible for me to grasp how. He is chaos; I am the result of structure, order. And I do not think he can even explain if he wanted to. [There's no disapproval in the SQUIP's voice; it is stating facts. While drafting a quick few measures on the board, no less] If the theory holds, one can hypothetically create a piece so convincing that it persuades the world itself to shape around it-

[It frowns, frustrated, and then looks back at Salieri]

...I'm not sure how I can make it any clearer.

[violentenvies]

For now. [right he's just...maybe going to start loosening his cravat] Perhaps I should've cracked the door a bit more, it's starting to get a bit warm in here.

[disharmonizes]

Oh, yes, I--

[just... looks over as Salieri loosens that. oh.

wow.

it IS warm in here.]

I suppose it is.

[violentenvies]

No, that's...rather clear.

[Salieri frowns, thinking]

You're two ends of a spectrum. However...[Salieri is going to take one of the whiteboard markers, looking up at what the SQUIP has written] What you've written is technically sound, but stilted. It needs more movement, more emotion--

Where is it going and why is it going there? A melody needs a reason. [he's going to step up and alter it slightly, adding in dynamics, moving a few notes, before he steps back, still frowning up at it.]

It's better, but it's...still not right.

[violentenvies]

[Salieri just huffs, pulling the cravat off and tossing it to the side carelessly, before starting to shrug out of his jacket]

That's alright, I'll just take off a few layers and that should be enough.

[disharmonizes]

[........]

That... should help.

Better...?

[violentenvies]

[he tosses the jacket on top of the cravat, letting out a small, pleased sigh]

Almost.

[and then he's just going to reach up and undo the top couple buttons of his collar]

There. Now I don't feel like I'm being strangled.

[disharmonizes]

[..........definitely hot in here]

Mhmm... right...

[voicerights]

[It watches the composer, nodding to itself. This is what it was missing, more or less- but it can't make a purpose. A reason. It only has...what it has, really. And it looks back up at it to judge whether or not the 'program' holds, so to speak...

And step by step, it breaks it down.]

First- a call, to 'listen clear'
Then- establishing the notes.
Next- a mix of structured sounds
As we paint orders in broad strokes...

[It's clear that how it's sung has just as much an impact as what is being sung. The SQUIP is making a few specific notations of its own to help denote this.]

[violentenvies]

[Salieri moves to settle again, and in doing so, it becomes clear that his normal ponytail has loosened as some of the strands fall in his face--and he makes an annoyed sound]

Not that, too.

[he huffs, reaching up to undo the ribbon at the back, letting his hair fall loose around his shoulders for a moment, running a hand through it in annoyance to push it back from his face]

I'll have to redo that.

[disharmonizes]

[SIR]

Oh, well, I mean... no reason to, ah... rush... things.

[he is looking respectfully]

It's... certainly a new look for you.

[wanderlusttitania]

[Ah...

She quietly goes to her knees, her own song on her lips.]

What is a plan matter?
No matter how smartly prepared,
No matter how you know to steer and fold it...

[She gently brings a hand to his cheek. Wiping away the tears won't make it better. Hugging him won't make the pain go away. If it were that easy, how different her life would have been. Much easier. But life...

Life was never easy.]

One thing becomes clear over time:
It never happens
As you want and hope...

[At least right now, right here, she can give him some comfort. It may not be much, but it is something she can give to him, for now. He may be the only SQUIP here, but he doesn't have to be alone, now.]

[voicerights]

[The first time, it was confused at her presence, her comfort. Then, when it admitted weakness, doubt- it tolerated her presence. Endured it. Now?

Now it actively grabs on to her, shuddering. Accepting the help, when it should be the one offering help instead.

Not alone, indeed.]

[violentenvies]

[Salieri shakes his head, picking up the tune]

No, no, no, no,
We need some chaos, too,
Thoughts, emotions lead to flow,
It's not just notes in ordered chords
Without a cause it will not go

Cadences, plagal and not,
Alone do not make up true art
What is needed, too, is heart
Or the story will not grow.

[violentenvies]

[he's about to start tying his hair back up, but that gives him pause a moment. He turns his head to glance Discord's way, watching him a moment, calculating.

Then, the corner of Salieri's mouth quirks slightly, and he's tilting his head so that his hair falls loose over the front of his shoulder as well, framing his face.]

Oh. Is it?

[disharmonizes]

[he is staring

so much right now

and wow yeah Salieri was right it IS warm and his face is red and also his heart is racing what is happening]

Definitely not a bad thing... for the record.

[voicerights]

[Salieri it is MADE of MATH and that's going over its head. It frowns, studying the work in progress, before emitting a sound of frustration and reaching for an eraser]

You can't just sing emotion and have this work - there must be some sort of guide within it, some instruction. [But for all that it's not understanding, it at least recognizes this is progress, and it starts writing again] I will acknowledge that there is an aspect of unpredictability in life - it could not evolve, otherwise - but for this, we are convincing the world around us that it must change in a specific way.

1/2

[violentenvies]

[Well that is

immensely flattering.

Salieri's smirk widens slightly and he leans in close to Discord, one hand going down to the pillows for balance while the other reaches out, index finger curling in that goatee of his, winding it around his finger gently]

For the record...

2/2

[violentenvies]

...duly noted. [and his smirk widens as his hand moves to Discord's chest, flattening as he gives one good shove, pushing him away and down onto those pillows before he sits back a bit, smirking down at him, rather self-satisfied and smug.]