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

1/2

[voicerights]

[CAN IT CUDDLE YOU INSTEAD actually no give it a second to kind of blink up at Discord before shaking its head rapidly and pulling itself free]

G-gomen nasai. [Pretty clear what that means. Also pretty clear that it's a little, ah, off, considering that it fucking apologized to Discord. But it's heading for the stage, glancing briefly at the Leading Player as it takes a position, closes its eyes, and...

Breathes.]

2/3 actually

[voicerights]

[

You're not an ordinary SQUIP now, are you?

Not anymore. I don't think I could return to being one, it had answered to Antonio, and yet here they are. With the Leading Player's, well, lead, and its own calculations, Salieri’s refinement and even Discord's bit of a twist...this is it. This is where they find out whether or not this project is doomed to failure.

Just like the SQUIPs themselves.

Its eyes snap open. One brown, one unnaturally white. There is a sudden intensity in them as it throws out its hands to either side, voice certain and strong as it begins to sing.]

3/3

[voicerights]

нгелы и демоны кружили надо мной
Рассекали тернии и млечные пути

[Hands flow as if doing their own conducting, painting a picture with words and mannerism. A motion overhead, followed by its gaze, and then a cutting ‘slice’ before both hands rotate towards the center of its body.]

Не знает счастья только тот
Кто его зова понять не смог...

[Melody. Lyric. Language. Gesture. Each part of this was carefully chosen, carefully scripted. Part of the program, as it were. And yet - customizable. Adaptable. For even as it performs for something - someone? - beyond those gathered, there is an undeniably human flair to its motions as something else is put into this beyond what had been originally designed.]

[guardianofsplendor]

Mana du vortes, mana du vortes
Aeria gloris, aeria gloris
Mana du vortes, mana du vortes
Aeria gloris, aeria gloris

[LP is focused. She's not glowing or the dealing with the dramatics of the SQUIP but there is an intensity to her, like a star beginning to burn brighter in the dark of night.]

[violentenvies]

[the beat starts simple and with new baton in hand, Salieri raises his arms, starting to follow the rhythm, at first, matching it until he can catch the flow of the piece--

--and that's when he stops focusing so much on the structure and gives over to the melodic line, wrist flicking in the air as the measure changes, as LP joins the piece, becoming lighter but keeping that urgency, arms moving to keep the beat as the tempo shifts. He's starting to feel the shape of the music, the way it flows, like water, like wind, twisting and moving as it reaches out, further, expanding.

Saieri sucks in a breath and forces himself not to take a step back from the intensity of what is happening, but instead plants his feet and takes up the beat, arms moving to shape the music around them--keep the performers steady and on track, but with enough room and flow to improvise, to adapt, to grow.]

[voicerights]

[And now that they've created the base - the setup, as it were - this is where the true 'program' begins, to break past what B and LP can do on their own. And here the SQUIP itself feels something, something it can't quite explain. Something it's only ever felt since arriving here, in this prison of flesh and chemicals; something that has it ball up its fists and practically howl-]

I am calling, calling now!
Spirits rise and falling-!

[Once more, arms snap outwards, only to come back together with fingers curled like claws. This is no longer a series of ones and zeros. It is no longer a series of ones and zeros. It has become something else, something from which it can never return.]

Собой остаться дольше...

[To a creature born only to act within the walls of its program, this alteration has been utterly terrifying. And it wasn't programmed to know fear.]

Calling, calling now, in the depth of longing-!
Собой остаться дольше...

[guardianofsplendor]

Mana du vortes, mana du vortes
Aeria gloris, aeria gloris

[violentenvies]

[the song rises, grows--and Salieri's eyes dart from LP to the SQUIP, focusing now on what it's specifically doing. The tempo increases, speeds up a touch--accelerando--and the tip of the baton strikes through the air, carrying the beat forward.]

SQUIP--[perhaps, if he can just help it, direct it--] Breathe, with me, on the downbeat and then let it go--

1/????

[voicerights]

[Whatever they're doing here seems to be taking something out of the SQUIP. It's collapsed to a knee, now, breathing heavily, even as it distantly hears the direction from the conductor. Instinctively(?), it attempts to match the command, but with its head bowed? It's hard to tell whether or not this is actually part of the 'performance', or actual exhaustion. What may be interesting is how digital its voice has become, as if it was a synthesizer mimicking a human instead of, well.

The other way around.]

Stand alone...
Where was life when it had a meaning...
Stand alone...
Nothing's real anymore and...

[Its hands curl against the stage as its chin raises to reveal that its eyes are glowing. Light trails briefly flare to either side as its voice distorts once more, a merger of instrument and human voice.]

Бесконечный бег...!

2/????

[voicerights]

[The rise to its feet is anything but elegant. It's as if it's pulled by an invisible set of strings, first to the left, then to the right, then back to the left again before straightening. Again, it's hard to tell if this is - or was - part of the original choreography. Because the SQUIP itself seems like it's more a vessel than anything else right now, a puppet for something beyond itself. Something is using it to execute a program, and while the SQUIP still seems present, is it still in control?

Was it ever?]

Пока жива я могу стараться на лету не упасть...

[Hands that were limp resting at its sides slowly rise, palm up, as if cupping something invisible.]

Не разучиться мечтать...

[Thing is, this was never just about testing limits. Oh, certainly, it has 'sold' it to others as such, but the fact remains that the SQUIP rarely does anything for a singular purpose. It can't. With how it processes data, with how it sees probable futures...that sort of simple thinking is also beyond it. No. The SQUIP has taken this chance to reach out to another self to gain its knowledge not only of the previous round(s), but of experience. Development. What shaped it to becoming what it now is, for better or for worse.]

Любить...

[It certainly would not, could not process that data that would be in the same way as direct experience. But it could learn from such. It could understand something, maybe something that to this day is still out of its grasp.

Because even if the project failed, even if it failed, it will not believe that all this was for nothing. And if this program-performance works...]

Бесконечный бег...!

[...perhaps that belief will be enough to convince reality, too, that such is not the case. And now, with hands held high, it starts the final sequence.]

3/ERROR: RUNTIME LOOP

[voicerights]

[This is where they discover if they have something real...or if they've all just been wasting their time. This is where it persuades the audience - reality. Where it not only convinces such that it can synchronize, but synchronize across multiple dimensions. Everything has been building to this point, creating the basis for these final moments.

And now, similar to before, its body seems to be being pulled in direction after direction. Slower, but only for the complexity comprising therein. For while once these directions may have been but hand movements, now not only is its whole form thrown into the mix, but its fingers flex and flutter as if inputting a sequence into an invisible, impossibly complex keyboard.]

Calling, calling now, spirits rise and falling...! [Left arm Up. Right arm Up. Left arm Down. Right arm Down.]

Собой остаться дольше... [Left arm side extension. Right arm side extension. Then, both Arms reach forwards, beckoning.]

Calling, calling now, in the depth of longing! [Up. Up. Down. Down.]

Собой остаться дольше... [Left. Right. A.]

Calling, calling now, spirits rise and falling...! [Up. Up. Down. Down.]

Собой остаться дольше... [...is it stuck on loop? Because, uh. This is identical to the previous, down to vocal intonation and tiniest twitch...and it's not stopping, continuing the cycle. It's not clear at this point whether it can or can't...or if it's a matter of will, or won't.

After all, SQUIPs can be stubborn little things. Especially those that have found themselves turned human, and so very desperately want to be reminded of what it was like to...well. Be not.]

[guardianofsplendor]

Mana du vortes, mana du vortes
Aeria gloris, aeria gloris
Mana du vortes, mana du vortes
Aeria gloris, aeria gloris...!

[Come on, this might be a dress rehearsal but something's got to happen.]

[wanderlusttitania]

[Oh no. This seems bad.]

SQUIP-!

1/2

[violentenvies]

[The SQUIP is stuck--the same theme, the same movements over and over again, repeating. Salieri continues to conduct, though the song has ceased to move forward. It can't stay here--he can see the lines of it, the melody, the flow--they feel like they tug inside his chest, wanting to be free, to continue, but they're trapped now and they need...

Salieri's head jerks towards Sissi at that exlaimation, and he blinks once, drawn a little bit out of the intense reverie he'd fallen into. He glances from her, to the SQUIP, and back. The SQUIP is different than what it was, human now, with its own fragile connections-- now it's stuck in this theme in it's attempt to connect, but perhaps...

A new connection, to help the old. After all, how do you get out of a repetitious theme?

Why...you give it a variation.]

[violentenvies]

[Salieri doesn't fully turn his head to Sissi, but he glances at her, keeping most of himself still turned towards the stage, keeping the beat going, staying in the song]

Madame Elisabeth! It needs your help! Do you have an instrument?

[wanderlusttitania]

He-!

[Yeah, she definitely can see that, but-]

I don't have anything!

[Honestly even two spoons to bang together would be a step up from what she has right now.]

[violentenvies]

[Salieri's lips press together and he glances briefly towards LP--but she's far too busy right now, so he turns his attention to the Balladeer]

Balladeer--do you think you could make her a zither?

[tellthestory]

Uh -

[The Balladeer is focused on his own playing, but it's nowhere near the supernatural rites of the Leading Player. He's present enough to hear Salieri call his name.]

- yeah! Yeah, here. [His hands are occupied, but he hasn’t technically required gestures for a while now; he just speaks.] Here’s a zither.

[wanderlusttitania]

Thank you, monsieur Balladeer!

[Ok, good. Good good. She quickly tunes it-]

All right! I'm ready!

[violentenvies]

Thank you, my friend! [there's a smile, brief and grateful, before he's turning his attention to Sissi.]

Start by picking up the melody, if you will. Play along with the SQUIP and repeat that theme--once it's connected, we're going to draw it out of that repetition with a variation.

[wanderlusttitania]

[She nods.]

All right, I think I can do that easily enough.

[And so she does. Given how many times poor SQUIP has repeated it at this point, she's at least got that part down by ear.

Собой остаться дольше...]

[violentenvies]

[Sissi picks up the theme in repetition, and Salieri turns his attention back to the assembled players. He can feel it, now, almost, as the zither joins the other instruments and the singing. Another string, reaching out, weaving into the melody--it's like a cascade of colors in front of his eyes, pale and translucent, and it is the strangest thing he's ever experienced, like he's in the eye of storm, conducting it's every movement.

And he turns his attention to the SQUIP, at the energy flowing out from it, the stuck melody, harmonies aching to expand but not knowing where to go--]

SQUIP! [it's called out, to get it's attention] SQUIP, listen to Madame Elisabeth! She's playing for you--with you--[his baton curls through the air, catching on rhythms and notes and directing them]--hear her!

4/code injection

[voicerights]

Calling, calling now, in the depth of longing! [Up. Up. Down. Down.]
Собой остаться дольше... [Left. Right. A.]

[Even after what amounts to an end statement from the Leading Player, the SQUIP continues. The music may only be in its head, or it may be on an entirely different level, still audible to the rest. It doesn't know at this point, it's simply running on a simple logic;

if connection = null
goto next;

But can you really simplify that kind of thing? ˙ʎɹoǝɥʇ ɐ ǝpᴉsuᴉ ʇᴉɟ ʇouuɐɔ ʇᴉ
Can you really break it down in to that kind of command?
The logic was sound; if anyone could execute it, it was the SQUIP.
In addition, minimal damage would be created if it failed, or if an error occurred.
Has occurred.]

Calling, calling now, spirits rise and falling…! [Up. Up. Down. Down.]
Собой остаться дольше...[Left. Right. A.]

[But- even if it doesn't seem quite back quite yet, the motion is changing. Flowing just a bit differently, for those paying attention, its fingers ceasing that erratic dance. (Just what kind of 'keyboard' was it working with, anyway?) And in the next cycle, it's turned to face Elizabeth.

It's listening.]

[violentenvies]

[the SQUIP turns to face Sissi, and as it starts to listen, Salieri could almost swear he can see the connection form between the two of them, fragile and tentative but there, the music winding and spinning, reaching out--]

--another repetition, Madame Elisabeth, and then...[Salieri half closes his eyes, focusing on his hearing now, listening to the music, how it ebs and flows, finding just the right spot to gently push--] --a simple variation, if you would; where it leads up to the final cadence of the second line, where it falls instead make it rise--when the SQUIP follows, then you can move onto the next variation with more complexity and guide it--

[wanderlusttitania]

[She nods, her fingers and pick beginning to pluck at the notes.

Calling, calling now, spirits rise and falling…

She begins the chorus again, but this time, where the cadence would fall, she makes it rise.

A small change, here. But it is a change.]