Participants:
| Scene Title | Anguish of Amadeus |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Amadeus is tortured by a twisted pair of delvers. |
| Date | March 23, 2011 |
In Dreams
New York is a terrible place right now, but one would argue it's not quite as terrible as it is in Amadeus' mind right now. A stark contrast to the sex-fueled dreamscape that Delia last encountered, the city is in ruins, buildings occasionally crumbling, and the only sign of people are the skeletons that lay all over the streets and in rusted cars. All life in the city seems to be cats, on rooftops, walking down sidewalks, and of course in alleyways.
The only human is Amadeus, sitting in the mouth of an alley with his usual AC/DC shirt and such, legs curled up to his chest with his eyes closed. He appears to be in a bad place, every ounce of sunshine blocked out by the dark thunder clouds in the sky.
In some places, the bones have been gathered into piles. Piles upon which a person in a shapeless brown coat and baggy pants, complete with Doc Marten boots climbs upon. Over the figure's head is a mask, formed into the skull of a giant cat, perhaps a lion cub. It turns and peers down, away from the man in the alley mouth. "Is she to be buried in Christian burial that wilfully seeks her own salvation?" The voice is indistinct, raspy sounding. It could either be the voice of a hoarse sounding female or prepubescent male. Regardless, the mask doesn't quite hide the length of curly red hair that springs out from behind its head.
The question of who it is speaking to is answered but seconds later when another figure, a twin of the first, leaps up onto the same pile and crouches to pick through the bones. A well shaped skull is pulled from its moorings and held aloft so the other might enjoy it. "I tell thee she is: and therefore make her grave straight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial."
Both of them are either ignoring or don't seem to notice Amadeus at the mouth of the alley.
Amadeus stands and begins to slowly walk over to the two, kicking once at the pile with a slight frown on his face. "Go somewhere else, I don't want any fuckin' women botherin' me, 'specially ones with that hair." He's apparently assuming woman in his incredibly focused anger. "Just get the fuck somewhere else where I can't hear you." that comes out a bit lower, less angry and more defeated than anything.
Both figures turn to regard the man walking toward them, seeming more interested in him than the pile now. The first skids down from the top of the pile. Rolling on the brittle bones until it jumps to the firm ground on one side of Amadeus. Circling him the way a cat would a mouse, it turns its head to catch the attention of its playmate and jerks it head upward. "How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defence?" From behind him, the shapeless figure peeks around his body, its serpentine movements graceful and fluid. "Rather…. he drowned himself…"
The cackle from the second figure as it jumps from the side of the pile to land solidly on its two feet is echoed around the empty cityscape around them. It mimics the movements of the man in front of it, weaving and bobbing, blocking Amadeus' step with its own body. In one hand it carries the skull, cupped in its palm and held at its rounded base. The other carries a burlap sack, filled with more of the same. Bleached skulls and perfect bones, a collection of sorts. "Why, 'tis found so."
"Stop talkin' weird, I don't have time for all this shit, everyone's always gettin' all in my business. I just wanna be alone now." Amadeus tries to shove one of them out of the way, grunting once, in annoyance. "People are always talkin' to me and shit when they're bored, but no one really gives a fuck about me, 'specially not you curly haired bastards!"
What Amadeus' hand encounters when he tries to make contact is thin air. Rather, his hand moves right through the figure, dispersing it into the air like fine silt but only for a moment. Once his appendage is away again, the granules reassemble into the whole creature once again, a creature who doesn't seem to be listening to him. Either that or just has no wish to heed. "It must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. For here lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: it is, to act, to do, to perform: argal, he drowned himself wittingly."
A spark of laughter, ha ha ha~ erupts from the other and it glides to join the one in front of Amadeus now. "Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,— " It is only then that two pairs of blue eyes focus on the unkempt man before them and as one tilts its head one way, the other tilts its head the other, creating a vee of sorts in masks. It is the second that speaks again, this time in a stronger voice. "Do you think he wishes to drowned himself? Perhaps in sorrow or self pity?" The deviation from the script is somewhat seamless, at least to the duo in front of the young Deckard now.
Amadeus looks almost frustrated when he turns around to face them again, hands balled up. "I drown myself in pussy 'cause that's all women are good for! When you like 'em for anything else they just backstab or hurt you! Fuck them, fuck every single one!" He looks down at his hands now, realizing that he went right through the figure. "What the hell do you want?"
"Give me leave. Here lies the water; good." The 'water' that's indicated to is nothing more than a puddle about three feet wide just to the left of Amadeus' feet. You can almost hear the smile in the first figure's voice, the distinct hiss of esses and the titter of a laugh near the end. "Here stands the man; good; if the man go to this water, and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he goes,— mark you that; but if the water come to him…"
The other dissipates and the grains of color coil around Amadeus, leading him to the puddle, urging him on. "And drown him! He drowns not himself: argal, he that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life." It winds around the man's feet and snakes up his body until its wrapped him completely it its own form. Not two or three inches from his face the mask and hair reform, its blue eyes burning like brightly lit sapphires inset within the hollows of the skull's eyes.
Amadeus looks down over himself, confused and a bit weirded out, especially when he's suddenly being wrapped and the masked face appears in front of him. "What the hell do you want?" he repeats, then starts to frown. "Why can't everyone just leave me alone. I don't fuckin' care about anyone else but me, so don't fuckin' worry about me if I'm not gonna worry about you!"
The two figures melt away, almost as if heeding the outburst of anger. Almost. When the particles disperse completely into the air, yet another body appears. This time dressed in a white cotton sundress that should be somewhat familiar to Amadeus. He's seen it at least once before, the night that was catalyst to his breakup with his ex-girlfriend. The mask is still fixed firmly to the figure's, now definitely a woman's, face. Her hair springs wild from all angles, tendrils flying up with every bit of breeze.
"Sounds like you have a big problem," the woman says, plucking up another bleached skull and pitching it over her shoulder carelessly after a cursory examination. There must have been a flaw. "Question, Amadeus, if you don't care… why bother getting so angry about it?"
"I'm not angry!" Amadeus shouts angrily, then suddenly reaches out in an attempt to wrap his arms around her and lay his head on her shoulder, tears suddenly streaming from his eyes. "I was fuckin' fine! My life was great, then I met that fuckin' Delia! I didn't care that no one really cared that much about me, but then I saw her and I thought she might be someone nice enough to care for a fuckin' loser like me, but she just saw me for the loser that I am! A goddamned fuckin' Deckard. Then I gave Keira a chance, I saw how much she really fuckin' cared, then she backstabbed me too! This is what happens when you let yourself feel shit for women!"
The woman freezes as his arms wrap around her and he holds her close. Then, almost as unexpectedly to her as it would be to him if he knew, one pale hand comes up to pat him on the shoulder. "Don't— " she begins slowly, the voice becoming a little more familiar to him too. "Don't cry Amadeus." The stiff way her body keeps its posture is indicative of how uncomfortable she is with the display.
She pulls back a little and the arm slips away from his shoulders before moving to the chin of her mask. Hesitant, it begins to lift up and she pulls it away completely. When she's moved a pace away, the mask is completely removed and Delia presses her lips together in an expression of dismay. "You're just not the right one for me, not that you're a Deckard, or a loser. You didn't take no for an answer and you didn't just want to be my friend. If you're okay with it… I'd like to be your friend."
"Oh god, you're Delia." Amadeus turns around, quickly wiping his eyes and clearing his throat, turning around as if to put his own mask back on. "Yeah, sure, I mean why the fuck not. You didn't backstab me like Keira. Sorry, I got something in my eye for a minute." he clarifies, running a sleeve over his face. "I'm sorry I scared you off, I never really… felt anything for a chick before, didn't know what to do. I know how to get in a chick's pants, but I don't know how to like… you know, be all romantic like Austin Powers or somethin'."
He looks around at the city, in his dream state not quite realizing how strange it all is, but he does notice how strange she seems. "What's with the mask and shit?"
"You'll find the one, Amadeus… If it makes you feel any better, I'm glad it's not her. You have a good heart." At least that's what Delia's hope is, she hasn't seen anything particularly malicious from the man so far. Her lips quirk to the side a little when she watches him wipe his eyes with the back of his hand and she nods in acceptance of his explanation. "It's alright, I'm sure I've done some creepy things in my life."
Her smile grows as she holds up the mask. See? Creepy.
"Tell you the truth? I wasn't sure what I'd find… I didn't want it to be a bunch of nearly naked mes when I recognized you." There's a soft chuckle that bubbles out of her as she looks down at the ground and her bare feet. "I'm glad we talked like this though, I'd be happy to be your friend… I think it'd be nice to just hang out. No dope though… and I'm finally twenty one, now I just need ID that says so."
"Yeah he's fine, I'm startin' to think he's Japanese and not Chinese, what he said about World War II makes a lot more fuckin' sense if he is." Amadeus turns around to her, pulling his shirt up to show the stitches inbetween his shoulder and chest. "I got shot when I was stuck in the dome, but I'm gettin' better."
Quirking her eyebrows down just a little, she eyes Amadeus carefully. "What did he say about World War II?" Swinging her legs back and forth, she forces the plank to sway in midair while she's on it. The stitches, though not real and likely should have been removed in real life by now, are eyed with a curious interest. Her blue eyes roam the expanse with clinical concern, "That's not exactly being careful. My dad was there, in the Dome. Did you see him?"
"Don't think I saw the guy, and since Keira left me I've been doing a lot of crazy shit, just thrill seekin' I guess." Amadeus puts his shirt back down, walking behind to lightly push her on the swing. "He was sayin' shit like Eltingville bein' one of those Japanese camps or some shit."
"You're like the chick from that vampire movie, doing all the crazy stuff to feel again. Well, stop it, think about it. If she backstabbed you is she really worth it?" The swinging is accepted if only for a little while and without any ropes to hang onto, it's difficult for the young woman to stay on. Before losing her balance and falling off, Delia disappears completely in a puff of smoke.
The pinprick scratches of tiny bird feet on the man's head is indicative that she's no completely gone. At least not yet. A deeper scratch on his scalp is what happens when she pushes off and into flight. A fat little robin of the European variety flits through the air, gliding around him with a tiny shift of wings before they beat rapidly to change direction.
"Guess not, but I don't know what else to do…" Amadeus jumps back a bit when she vanishes, then stares at the robin in slight confusion. These things don't normally happy, right? "Uh…" Maybe she turned into a bird?
There's no time to figure that out, as he's immediately waking up on the small bed in the back of his van. "Fuck, just a dream. I knew there's no way the real Delia would be that nice to me." Then there's a short pause… "I coulda fucked her!"