Case #81: The Songbird, Scene #2

The road leading up to The Songbird Theatre is a little more crowded than one would expect. It seems word has gotten around quickly to the "neighbors" at least. There is a good mix of people of all levels of society. The most obvious are the theater patrons in their finery, which itself ranges from actual finery to "best-they-can-afford" on some. Several drunk people stand about gawking and listening to stories. Several people who have the air of sex-workers mill about as well, possibly looking for new customers while gathering the gossip. A stream of people move in and out of the front door of the theater still. Souls thinking they are brave enough to glimpse the macabre scene with full red cheeks go in, pale white faces in wearing various expressions of terror, horror, and disgust come out.

The group has to queue up briefly, but finds themselves passing through the doors into the lobby quickly. Inside the lobby more playhouse patrons linger. Brandy has been made available for those whose constitutions faltered at the site of the tragedy. Many a patron swoon upon a bench or a theatre chair that has been brought out for their comfort. A few cast members and stage crew can be seen milling about as well, identified by their gaudy makeup or nearly all-black attire.

A few steps more take you into the theatre auditorium. The floor of this area is sloped toward the stage, as you would expect, so that the back rows have a less obstructed view of the stage. More than a few chairs have been moved out of the standard neat rows normally found. Some out in the lobby, some shoved aside in the rush to leave. The crowd here is more sparse than the lobby or the street. Many more cast and crew, obviously, and a few patrons can be seen milling about with the stream of random onlookers. You see that some of the crew are keeping people from getting closer than the first row of seats, perhaps in some semblance of an attempt to preserve the scene.

Up on the stage, the scene is much like Mortimer Cline described. The backdrop depicts an idyllic pastoral grassland with a small wood to the right and a fairy tale castle to the left. A dais rises about six feet above the stage level and upon it stands a gray painted facsimile of an iron maiden, it's interior absolutely drenched in crimson blood, still dripping slowly as it dries. Spilled upon the wooden steps painted to look like stone...before also being painted red...is the body of a small human being, covered by a sheet of canvas that slowly stains red as well.

As the members of the Circle approach, they too are stopped from getting on stage by the crew members. "Sorry folks, we are waiting for the Periphery to get here. They need to see this without anybody mucking it up first. Please Stand back."

"Don't know nothing about all that folks, just following orders. Look, if you really want got up on stage, you need to go talk to those two blokes o'er there." the man points toward a group of two well dressed people off to left side of the stage near a door that seems to lead back stage based on the layout as you read it coming in.

"Boss! We got some live ones o'er 'ere!"

The shorter of the two figures looks over toward Felicia and Otto and gives a combination of gestures and expressions that reads as reluctant acceptance and becons the group over.

As you approach members of the cast and crew dart to and fro from the two people. They confer quietly with each newcomer and each other. They seem to be at odds over some point. The taller one is red in the face, they are fuming about something, shaking almost, like a kettle about to explode. The shorter seems to be trying to placate the taller but isn't doing that great of a job at it. Despite all the chaos going on around them they have an air of confidence, a swagger that strikes you all as out of place in the moment. When you arrive the taller person turns their back to you all while the shorter turns to greet you.

"Hello, hello, wonderful to meet you all, inspite of our tragedy, it is always nice to meet new fans. My name is, of course, Myer Sandow, director and producer of the show. My man there indicated you have some questions. I'm afraid you'll have to wait. My partner, Mr. Ashpole here insits that the Periphary be given the privilege of the first official statement, at which time I will make a statement and of course, eh, make myself available for questions from the press. Which...eh...which newspaper did you say you were with, I apologize if we've met before, I'm dreadfully terrible with faces that aren't part of the theater you see. No room for anyone else I'm afraid." they let out a tittering laugh as they tap the side of their head playfully.