HtH115 – The Gathering In The Storm
EXECUTIVE SUMMARY: Lumi and Ablam look to help Eclair when she is away.
Walking down the second floor hallway, Ablam closes a latch on the open window, barring the coming storm from upsetting the house. The rain had already damped parts of the carpet, and would have done more damage if she had not done so. Strong winds and dark clouds abound, though our silver-haired actress is not worried. She looks to the little patch of roses in the front garden - they sway in the wind, but are not completely blown away.
(knock knock)
(A soft resonant chime from within the office)
"Please do come in, Ablam."
Ablam steps through the lightly open doorway to the dramaturg's office. Instead of its usual occupant, Lumi is rearranging books on the western side of the office alone. Looking left and right, Ablam plops herself down onto one of the green chairs in front of the dramaturg's desk.
"Huh. I thought we agreed to help Eclair today --- where did she go?"
(A soft sound, like a gentle tinkling of a chime bell)
"I think... Eclair went outside today. Somewhere."
Ablam looks towards the back window, raindrops are already going pitter-patter against the glass. "In the storm?" The girl raises an eyebrow, "That's an odd time to go out. Maybe she doesn't want to see us at all."
The girl laughs while saying so, but there is a tinge of worry behind that laughter.
While leaning back on the chair, she can't help but find the dramaturg's office a little too neat and tidy for their visit. Like Eclair had specially cleaned up the place for their visit. The dramaturg's desk is exceptionally clean, not a single loose leaflet can be found. There is even hot tea and a pair of teacups on the little table before her, so it was not like their dramaturg had forgotten about today's meeting.
She had simply decided not to show up.
"Tch, what a bother."
Ablam says so while fluffing her ponytail, then peeking at the doorway, as if expecting Eclair to suddenly pop up upon hearing that she was bad-mouthed. She could see her dramaturg's flustered, red-faced look in her mind's eye...
However, no such thing happens.
It seems the girls are truly on their own today.
(A soft, almost rustling sound, like paper shifting)
Lumi has now gone behind the dramaturg's desk, opening up the desk drawers and bringing up the stacks of paper from within. While there are not many papers, the margins of the paper are filled with their dramaturg's neat handwriting, indicating that their dramaturg has given some thought to them. Lumi goes through the stacks of papers, nodding quietly to herself for each read paper that is sent to the bottom of the stack.
"We have seen... some of these papers before." [HtH108]
Lumi starts to arrange the papers on the dramaturg's desk, while Ablam comes over with two cups of tea.
"These are all calls for jobs outside the house." Lumi declares.
"Yeah? What about them?" Ablam is still in the dark about what is going on, "Doesn't seem like Eclair can do any of these jobs, they don't suit her at all! 'Cat-sitting for Mrs. Elmsworth', indeed! There must be at least seven of them, and that's just the ones that like to hang out on the rafters!"
While turning over the papers, Lumi has slid into the dramaturg's chair, and stacks the papers neatly, returning them to the drawer. She pulls out another stack of papers from another drawer and starts going through them.
(A single chime, reflective and thoughtful)
"They’re not just jobs, Ablam. They’re echoes of potential, of unrealized narratives. Each one represents a path not taken."
"That does sound more like Eclair," Ablam leans an arm across the back of the chair, "Always trying to hold the weight of the continent by herself!"
Lumi nods, not correcting her genmate. By now, Ablam is going through the drawers and a stack of papers on her own, trying to make sense of the common connection between them. Many of these jobs requests have long expired, having stagnated in a back-and-forth between being and becoming.
(Lumi’s voice, a subtle shift in tone, almost like a gentle breeze)
“I’m already noticing a faint discoloration on the edges of the script pages. A subtle shift in hue. It’s… responding to the weight of the choices, I think. Let’s begin with the calls for roles. I’ll arrange them on the desk, not in any particular order, but in a spiral. Starting with the most recent, moving outwards.”
The girls begin to do that, and a clearer image began to emerge.
For some time now, Eclair has been looking for jobs that she could fulfill by herself.
The search had been limited to dramaturgical pursuits, but eventually began broadening wider and wider, until they landed on the cat-sitting request.
Here and there, the search is punctured by job postings for actresses, almost always marked out in red ink.
"Now, here's a most curious thing!"
Ablam finds a stack of papers and places them in front of Lumi --- they had been weighed down by a small ornate box in the bottom-most drawer, which Ablam picks up and starts fiddling with.
Clipped to the front of this stack of papers is a request for help.
It was a most general thing, written full of whimsy and air-headedness.
It had simply called for a part of Vespana's [23] history be adapted into a play 'nobody had seen before'.
Certainly, this is the one job that played to Eclair's strengths...
... but it is also the one that is most heavily marked in red ink.
Countless revisions dot the margins; rejection is not written into them. Rather, they seem more like reflections. Whether the character within should be saying this line, or giving the internal reasoning for them acting in this manner.
The stack of papers is a manuscript for a play.
The author had clearly put in a lot of work into preparing this script.
This script is not an easy one to follow, and contradiction seems to wrestle with the need for a clear, vibrant narrative, for the margins flit between worry for upsetting historical precedence and the dramaturg wanting to make her own mark.
Still, Eclair's passion for the work still moves through the sea of red ink.
(Sound of paper being carefully placed – a quiet rustle)
"So this is what Miss Dramaturg has been working on." Lumi ruminates, “I’m sensing a thread of regret here, Ablam. A longing for a story that was almost told. It’s a fragile thing, this regret."
"Well, the story doesn't seem too bad to me! Maybe you don't like it, but I think there's room in our house for complex--- oops!"
There is a small click from the small ornate box Ablam was fiddling with --- and a single iridescent feather pops out. It bounces across the sheafs of paper, dotting them red with their tip.
(A shimmering tone, a subtle shift in the air)
“Observe,” Lumi continues, her voice almost hypnotic. “The crimson feather. It’s not random. It represents the passion, the raw emotion that’s been suppressed here. Eclair is trying to control the narrative, to sanitize it, but passion always finds a way to bleed through. Let’s see… the acting roles… they’re all… bright. Almost aggressively so. As if someone is trying to force a vibrant, uncomplicated story onto a situation that desperately needs nuance.”
While Lumi is reading through the manuscript, Ablam reaches for the feather-quill that had landed on the script's last page.
There, she finds the reason for Eclair's hesitation.
Her voice turns low to a murmur, pawing over the last page.
"Hey, Lumi, I think you should take a look at this."
Lumi leans over.
Unlike the other pages, the final lines of the script only occupy the top of the sheaf.
There are no dense notes here--- just three words scrawled in overly large font.
They aren't printed with malice nor regret, they simply spell out a harsh reality.
Before the world could have a chance to reject the manuscript --- its creator had already rejected it in her heart.
(A brief pause, filled with the quiet hum of the house)
For once, Lumi is struck silent. The rain seems to have grown louder now.
There is no thunder, only realization.
The evidence is all layered upon each other now.
The only question is --- what do we do with it?
(Soft tinkling, like that of a small, broken music box playing a single haunting note)
"What shall we... do with this?"
Ablam breathes out a breath of air.
"Well, I think that it's obvious what we should do!"
Perhaps some things were not meant to be seen.
Ablam starts tidying the spread-out papers, by herself, rearranging the pages by sequence once more.
When she reaches the final page...
She takes it upon herself to take hold of the iridescent feather-quill, the same one which both put in so much passion in the margins and rejected the script outright --- She straightens the paper, and scribbles over the message Eclair had left at the end.
There wasn't much to change --- just a little dab of the quill on the second word. A little scribble and bolding of a letter there.
"There! What do you think?"
Ablam shows the corrected final note to Lumi.
Lumi beams a little.
Whatever was troubling their dramaturg had not been solved at all this afternoon.
The storm outside was still very real.
However, a small change to the ending made all the difference.
For right now, sprawled across the final page in red ink are the words:
"THIS WILL SELL."
Glossary
[23] Vespanola - The continent where the Hell's Theatre story is set in. Vespana is a magickal and wonderous place!
Recall
[HtH108] This is when Ablam and Lumi discover that Eclair had been hiding a secret unknown to the other girls in the house!
We are trying something different! This is a simul-posting at the same time as the Scribblehub release! Go check out the entire series at this link!
