What have you performed today?

Herenicus

Lorielan said:

Finally, bear in mind that this is a game, if you want people to stay with you for half an hour, give them something to do, make it interactive. 

Shirszae asked me to cobble together some ideas, having unsuccessfully challenged others:

• Intermission: 7 or 9 minutes (people like odd numbers), time for beverages and banter or IRL stuff;
• Singable chorus: pass out the chorus your favorite state hymn, enforce singing, hand names of nonsinging individuals to your secret police;
  
• Storytelling & Music: force accessible, fun roles on as many people in your audience as possible; public humiliation performs a necessary bonding function.
  

Herenicus

• Don't make your performance pitch-perfect: knock a podium over, awkwardly read from the wrong note, spill the ritual blood on your brand new shirt that you just had designed last week and couldn't you just be more careful. Don't overuse this device, however, or everyone will come to expect a flub in your performance and it won't have the same effect

Tristyn

Herenicus said:

• Singable chorus: pass out the chorus your favorite state hymn, enforce singing, hand names of nonsinging individuals to your secret police;
  
• Storytelling & Music: force accessible, fun roles on as many people in your audience as possible; public humiliation performs a necessary bonding function.
  

Funniest damn thing I've read in awhile. It deserves its own quote box.

Any who, I'm sure there is a Cyrenian or closet Hashani performer out there that would like to share their work. Otherwise I'm going to start boring people with more dance terminology. The collective groaning would only fuel my passion.

Ast

I want to see more @Tristyn performance stuff.

Tristyn

Currently writing up a ritual, but I have another dance that I can share. It is the longer variation of the first and written in story mode. A lot of this you wouldn't see in an actual performance!

She arises from her knelt position in a leisurely fashion. Whispers mocking her ears, advising her to move on with more desire, but her steps remain to be unhurried and measured as if the platform she was sashaying around burns like embers. Her body sways similar to a pale liquid, arms and hands twisting and writhing in a graceful movement as she carries them out to either side of her body. The beat remains noiseless to all but her and she places her feet cautiously on the ground. Her pale eyes gazes on, swishing in emotion like smoke, and she relaxes her awareness and begins to tread instinctively. Her pulse slows and her muscles loosen, releasing some of their tension as she was caught in in the rhythm.

She then closes her eyes, the refrain of her ancestors becoming louder in her head, drilling into her sinews and throughout her bones.  It cries out to her thirsty soul as it drew around her, enveloping her into its trance. Her back arches and her legs elevate themselves until she was on the tips of her toes, flexible ankles and crisp arches holding her stance. She became like embers feeding on the air, arms rising to grasp the sky until her long fingers nearly brushed together. Those arms of hers elegantly move out in front of her as one of her legs rises and extend gradually against the other. Finding her center of balance, she turns her body as a unit with her narrow shoulders level, neck stretching, and head angling up proudly. Her eyes open, focusing sightless on the crowd, and her head whips around with her turn, focusing once more.

She accelerates her turns, holding her arms delicately in front of her, hastening the movements of her toes against the ground. The shadows from her body becoming sharp and flawless across the stage, entwining with her as her turns rose and fell to the soundless melody. Her heartbeat sprints and grey eyes expand. She could sense the illusions howling in her head and desiring to become her opponent. Whirling and swirling, the colors of her purple dress merges with the paleness of her skin into a kaleidoscope like trance, rising and falling against her thighs. Vanity soars through her features, with each of her steps, as sheen of sweat began to form along her body forcing her to breathe smoothly. The sweat was her strength and fire pouring from her, molding her like a blade in a forge. She glides across the floor into another turn, soles of her feet swishing against the surface, repeating one half turn on each foot until her turns cease and her knees bend.  

She uses the bent motion of her knees to thrust off the ground with her toes and balls of her feet, legs rippling with strength of a proficient performer. Grey eyes focuses on a point of height in the distance, her head rises, and her body continues to leap forward with arms stretching to their fullest. The dull, opaque eyes sparked to life, narrowing in challenge. In a moment’s notice, she sliced through the air effortlessly, putting up a match to the undetectable foe. However, the resistance clashed back causing her to incline her head in reverse under the burden. Her dark hair flies about before hitting her arched back when her leap finally landed, dusty feet battering the floor into submission. 

She heeds on to her foe, her hips sway as its moves from space to space in the air easily, without thought. Her wrists slide through the air and her ankles rise and cross. The tempo pounds itself through her body and her movements shift becoming defensive in its passion. As the unknown rises, she twists her body away from it rising upon her supporting leg and bending the other backwards. As it falls, she glides down to the stage with an agonizing slow spin until she is on her knees before rising again. She halts near the center of the stage as her back arches and her body rises to the balls of her feet. And as she throws her head back haphazardly, her lips part and a sound so terrifying escapes from them that a shudder travels up her spine. Then it faltered as swiftly as it arose. She exhales whilst detecting the sheer determinations from her demand; the raw and wild exhilaration throbs through her veins and begs to be let out. 

She breathes in just as the endless beat decelerates around her, she sweeps one foot out in front of her before she swivels her legs, hips, and upper body into one final whirlwind of a twirl. She concedes onwards in fight for her life, egotistical and excessive, the twirl became nauseatingly dizzying. Shadows rages on as she revolves, flickering harshly against the walls and then merging back with her body, becoming virtually her own adversary. In her recklessness, she grasps her heart and lurches as if it had been pierced. Her grey eyes open to their full extent, vulnerability showing in its depths, before they come to a close once the beat gave way to silence. The notes faded into scornful whispers once more. Her inner flames gone in a flash and she fell to the unforgiving surface on her uncovered knees, broken and tamed by her fiery dance.

Taraus

Preface: Storytime in Siorraidh! Impromptu round-robin style (the best style, imo) - I'll leave the others to re-share theirs as they will, and will stick to only my own.

Khairt says in a withered, raspy voice, "Do indulge us, Gypsy."

Kaevan tilts his head and listens intently to you.

Melodie glances to you with avid interest.

Taraza tilts her head and listens intently to you.

Taraus shucks a well-worn black leather jacket with slow, methodical movements, baring her arms. Raising the right, she flexes experimentally, the inked tentacle writhing with the vascular tensing.

Herenicus makes no move from studying a large globe of clear glass, except to cant his dark head in your
direction.

You say off-handedly with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Admittedly not a Mhaldorian story, but one of the
stories behind the artwork -- a tribute, of sorts."

You say to Tahquil with a throaty, lyrical accent, "You may or may not remember -- or borne witness -- to any of it, but you were around back then."

Taraus settles against the edge of the desk, the hint of a smile twitching at the corners of her lips.

Tahquil's eyebrows raise over her mis-matched eyes as she glances up and seems to focus her attention on you.

You say thoughtfully with a throaty, lyrical accent, "I'd been back in Ashtan not terribly long, resuming
position in the fold of the Occult, and the Nihilists -- and was still in a bit of... ah, culture shock is as good a term as any."

You whisper conspiratorially with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Which is just a fancy way of saying I was stoned nigh every waking moment, and scarcely had any idea what th'fuck was going on."

With a sudden gape of his maw, Khairt's tongue flicks out and handily licks his right eye before returning
from whence it came with a snap.

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Enter Flair Ze'Dekiah. Some of you know him--."

Taraus casts a significant glance at Melodie.

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "And know just the sort of things he's capable of getting up to."

Melodie frowns and nods solemnly.

You say musingly with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Flair was never really the sort to... mmn, move forward with a plan in place. I believe one of his true mottos was 'it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission'."

Taraus grins to herself as her eyes grow distant, as if replaying scenes in her mind.

You say absently with a throaty, lyrical accent, "One day, he'd given me a rose -- we had some half-assed
variation of a courtship going on -- and unbeknownst to me, the rose had a sort of..."

Taraus gestures vaguely.

You say thoughtfully with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Well, 'enchantment' upon it, for lack of a better term to use."

Loora, the scholar rests against her desk, silently straightening parchment in rhythmic motions as she listens.

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "I touched it, and the thorn pierced my thumb -- the moment the blood fell upon it, it withered, wilted, and the petals hit the floor. He scooped 'em up, and somehow it manifested itself into a syringe full of blood."

You whisper drily with a throaty, lyrical accent, "... and there was no shortage of those syringes around back then, lemme tell you."

Taraus grins wryly, shaking her head.

Melodie's blue eyes remain intently on you, expression sober.

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "So he winds up out in the desert with a -- 'dear friend' isn't quite the right way to categorise, but it'll do the same, Morro Viatrix."

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "They spent days out there, chasing off anyone who'd interrupt, doing their..."

Taraus wiggles her fingers and makes spooky noises.

You say soberly with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Entropic ritual. And y'either know what that is, or y'don't."

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Anyhow, Morro comes back from the desert looking like something that's been dead for a week and hasn't caught on, and Flair's just as pleased as punch."

Herenicus presses his mouth into an unhappy line, turning his head towards you.

Taraus pauses in her retelling, her features contorting in an exaggerated mask of disgust.

You look horrified and say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "And her -arm-... it was all..."

You look sceptical and say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Well, lumpy."

Loora, the scholar raises an eyebrow at you.

Saeva's nose twitches with distaste.

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "And--."

Taraus gestures vaguely at her own shoulder, fingers moving towards her jaw.

You say decisively with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Necrotic, if you ask me. Lumpy, and necrotic."

You clear your throat.

Tahquil lips are pressed in a thin line as she crosses her arms tight around her flat chest.

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "So's anyhow, days go by -- days and days, and Mo's condition doesn't improve any -- only gets worse. And lumpier! And the two are mum, initially, refuse to share outright what happened out there."

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Enough badgering, bullying and prodding got the truth out eventually -- Flair'd taken the syringe, added his own to it -- drew from a thing of chaos, as well... and the two, in their..."

Taraus gestures vaguely.

You say blandly with a throaty, lyrical accent, "... questionable state of judgement...."

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Injected her with it. And something...err... took seed? ... rooted?"

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Manifested!"

Melodie's expression strains slightly.

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Mo finally ceded, after Lianca and I bullied her enough, that maybe some, ah, removal was necessary."

You say hastily with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Only the lump, not the arm."

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "So we all headed down to one of our quieter places -- underground pool, in the ass-end of Ashtan's residential district, where we could..."

Taraus gestures vaguely.

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Y'know, undisturbed."

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "So we... well, laid the poor girl open and..."

Taraus lifts her right arm again, unable to stop the briefest flicker of fondness from flashing in her black eyes as she studies the inkwork.

You say quietly with a throaty, lyrical accent, "And out it slithered. A little flopping, and flailing, and it landed hisself in the pool."

Saeva raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Taraus ducks her head, as if to hide her grin.

Marina's nose wrinkles in repugnance.

You clear your throat.

Loora, the scholar shudders at the thought as she hands a letter to Khairt.

Kei ponders you with a contemplative expression.

You say solemnly with a throaty, lyrical accent, "And so we named him Larr--."

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Ah. Lavrentios."

Taraus adopts a schoolmarmish expression, the admonishing visage at odds with her casual speech.

You say mischievously with a throaty, lyrical accent, "And boy, did he get big."

You say with a throaty, lyrical accent, "So if whispers in the Bastion ever arise, rumours of young children getting sucked into the depths of Balaton by..."

Taraus wiggles her fingers again, pantomiming tentacles.

You say seriously with a throaty, lyrical accent, "That's just Lavrentios having dinner."

Taraus filches another swallow from a brown glass bottle before tucking it back inside her knapsack.

You say awkwardly with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Erh... the end?"

Melodie

Man I should have logged all of that. I did not, for some reason. 

Santar

Herenicus said:

• Don't make your performance pitch-perfect: knock a podium over, awkwardly read from the wrong note, spill the ritual blood on your brand new shirt that you just had designed last week and couldn't you just be more careful. Don't overuse this device, however, or everyone will come to expect a flub in your performance and it won't have the same effect

Slippin' Jimmy.

Herenicus

I know, I know

Tristyn

A question regarding rituals, performances, events, and etc. Is there a custom to stay others from raiding during it? I know each game has their own way of doing that, the last one I played had an ooc channel. I feel it is kind of OOC to say to people over tells, "hey, a**hole, I'm performing something I spent hours writing. Don't mess with my shit."

Ast

Tristyn said:

A question regarding rituals, performances, events, and etc. Is there a custom to stay others from raiding during it? I know each game has their own way of doing that, the last one I played had an ooc channel. I feel it is kind of OOC to say to people over tells, "hey, a**hole, I'm performing something I spent hours writing. Don't mess with my shit."

Sending a tell or message that is marked to be clearly Ooc is usually the way to go. Most people do not want to mess up events and or rituals, unless messing up the ritual is part of the event. 

Tristyn

Ast said:

Tristyn said:

A question regarding rituals, performances, events, and etc. Is there a custom to stay others from raiding during it? I know each game has their own way of doing that, the last one I played had an ooc channel. I feel it is kind of OOC to say to people over tells, "hey, a**hole, I'm performing something I spent hours writing. Don't mess with my shit."

Sending a tell or message that is marked to be clearly Ooc is usually the way to go. Most people do not want to mess up events and or rituals, unless messing up the ritual is part of the event. 

Fantastic! I luckily haven't had an event disturbed, well except for one my graduations, so I wasn't sure how people usually handled it. I just have one of my more intricate ones happening in the future, but if OOC tells are acceptable here that will be wonderful.

Amarillys

I typically don't even bother sending an OOC message. Usually just ask for them to leave and suggest the reason is because of a performance. Every one I've ever had it with has been kind enough to oblige.

Also do it sometimes when there isn't a reason just so that they can say no sometimes without being jerks. 

Tristyn

Here is a small ritual performed for my final task for graduation in my house. It was early morning, so not a lot of people were there but that was okay! It made me less nervous. Thanks @Aegoth for showing up, I literally was laughing my ass off at your OOC chatter. I felt kind of sad that you couldn't emote as a soul!

--- Centre of Silverbright Square  36:0:0 ---

The stars twinkle in the clear night sky. There are 2 Riverwall bow-maidens here. Graceful arcs of water stream from an immense fountain, in the centre of which is poised an alabaster angel.

 

You see Tristyn.

She is wearing:

 a strand of Targossian prayer beads

a blue crystal brooch

a simple silver necklace

a hooded cloak of icy hues with the hood raised

a flowing white dress

an ecclesiastical cobalt sash

and heeled sandals of silver.

 

Lowering the hood of her cloak, Tristyn shakes out her beaded braids as she stands before her small makeshift altar she prepared earlier. Her solemn, grey eyes scan the general area, not looking at anyone one person in particular. A faint smile flits across her lips.

You carefully lower the hood on a hooded cloak of icy hues.

Lordoras drops to one knee.

You say cordially, "Salutations, brethren. It brings me abundant joy to see you assembled here during a tumotulous time. You may stand, sit, or kneel at your discretion. Let us begin."

Tetsuya drops to one knee.

Tristyn sinks down into a knelt position before a pyramidal copper bowl. On either side of the basin are several smaller tin bowls containing daisy petals, spikes of wheat, incense powder, and ashes. Placed to her right is a bundle of wood and a candle.

Gathering a sandalwood bundle, Tristyn lowers it into the basin bowl before producing a vial of oil from her pocket.

Tristyn presses her hands together in a worshipful manner with the vial carefully balanced between her fingers.

You say solemnly, "We are gathered here today to reflect, to let go, and to recommit."

You say solemnly, "But before we journey on, let us consecrate this time together."

Bending her head down humbly, Tristyn begins to recite her blessing, "Hail to our holy divine, Lady Aurora and Lord Deucalion. May you guide your devoted through this time of reflection and sacrifice, and may our hearts be opened for change."

Tristyn raises her eyes to meet the audience, with a resolute expression, and delicately tips the vial of oil over to douse the wood before pocketing it once again.

Taking a wax candle from the ground, Tristyn lights it with a tinderbox and presents it to the spectators, "With the flame of this candle, representing truth replacing ignorance, the time of sacrifice will have commenced."

You say gravely, "As I speak the next four lines, I would like for each of you to speak the words -May our commitments never falter- after them. With each line, I will subsequently place the offering into the fire."

Tristyn stretches her hand out over the copper basin and lights the sandalwood pyre with the candle. She snuffs the candle with the tips of her fingers and sets it to the side.

As the flame arises to consume the kindling, Tristyn takes the bowl of daisy petals in her hands. She raises it up towards the heavens as her countenance is overcome with reverence.

You chant reverentially, "Unto the Fire, we offer the symbol of innocence in tribute to that which we are to protect."

You tilt your head and listen intently.

Angellissi says, "May our commitments never falter."

Aodfionn chants in a low, growling voice, "May our commitments never falter."

Lordoras says solemnly with a Hashani accent, "May our commitments never falter."

Tetsuya says in a quiet voice, "May our commitments never falter."

Tristyn empties the pastel petals into the fire. They slowly curl into themselves before dispersing.

Tristyn deftly picks up the bowl of wheat and lifts it up between her two hands in brief supplication.

You chant passionately, "Unto the light, we offer the symbol of flourishing in reflection of the perfect state of Creation."

Angellissi says, "May our commitments never falter."

Lordoras says solemnly with a Hashani accent, "May our commitments never falter."

Tetsuya says in a quiet voice, "May our commitments never falter."

Tristyn pours the bowl into the fire as her grey eyes reflect the flames that are gradually intensifying.

Aodfionn chants in a low, growling voice, "May our commitments never falter."

Tristyn picks up a darkened bowl of ashes and sets her mouth into a grim line. She holds it steadily above the blaze.

You chant heatedly, "Unto the fire, we offer the symbol of sorrow in recollection of the wrongs committed against Creation."

Lordoras says solemnly with a Hashani accent, "May our commitments never falter."

Angellissi says, "But I prefer sunflowers. They smell nicer and probably have a lot more to say."

Angellissi looks up into the air for divine inspiration.

Angellissi says, "May our commiments never falter.."

Tetsuya says in a quiet voice, "May our commitments never falter."

Your eyes sparkle with amusement at Angellissi.

Lordoras smiles in amusement.

Throwing the ashes into the fire, Tristyn picks up a final bowl filled with incense. Her hand dips itself into the bowl as the powder easily slips out in between the cracks in her fingers.

You chant spiritedly, "Unto the light, we offer the symbol of purification in honor of the actions done to right those wrongs."

Lordoras says solemnly with a Hashani accent, "May our commitments never falter."

Angellissi says, "May our commitments never falter."

Aodfionn chants in a low, growling voice, "May our commitments never falter."

Tetsuya says in a quiet voice, "May our commitments never falter."

Tristyn lowers the incense into the fire causing smoke to surge from the slow burning flame. She takes a minute to allow the fragrance from the incense to waft around her.

You say in a quiet voice, "As we close this time together, let us recognize the importance of our duties no matter how small they are."

You say loudly, "Please grant us, Lightbringer and Righteous fire, the nature of perseverance. May our commitments never falter."

Grabbing a heavy lid that was set aside, Tristyn places it over the fire effectively smothering the flames and sending more smoke to billow out into her surroundings.

Tristyn bows her head in conclusion, her wild appearance marginally masked by the haze, "Amen."

Tetsuya says in a quiet voice, "Amen."

Lordoras says solemnly with a Hashani accent, "Amen."

Angellissi says, "Amen."

Setting her implements away, Tristyn steadily rises from her knelt position and deferentially bows to her viewers. "My sincerest thanks for your attendance. May light and fire always guide your steps."