Justification (Diedre)

The extracurricular studies had been weighing heavily on Theora's mind as of late. The experiences had been good and they had helped her see even more of the real world behind the curtain. It could cutthroat, it could be nasty, it could be so many intense and horrible things, but it was all for the end product, the end had to justify the means or it was all for naught. But it could be so difficult to see which projects would lead to a means-justifying end. The easiest answer was that none of her work as of now was worthy of such a thing, and her projects likely never would be.

It had been a bitter pill to swallow, but panto was a style for the masses, it could change lives, it could spread joy like nothing else, and it could have a great effect on a small girl out to see her first stage play on her birthday. But while a panto star might see great fame, the panto itself was just a vehicle, and not nearly as stylish and eye catching as so many modern pieces. Other theater pieces could be called the sports cars, a star that draws the eyes, panto was more akin to a station wagon. Great, useful, and maybe even better than a hot rod, but it was comfortable, deceptively simple, and forgotten about. Truly a cruel fate for a creation filled with love and devotion.
 
The danger faced was that she could be far too passionate, it had shown up time and time again, a theatrical lifestyle had bled through her love and into her personality, and while she could occasionally tone it down, it would bubble back up and she'd reveal herself for what she was.  She could justify it however she liked, but the ends had to have justified means.  She believed that she could help her girls become stars, be seen, become well known, but this was high school productions at maybe college level production values.  There was a lot she could coax out of it, but she could only provide a stepping stone.  But her ambition was to be greater than that, if she became more influential then she could help more people get further along, just at the expense of the lower levels that might not shoot as high anyway.

Theora sat in the theater, the lights were all dimmed apart from the stage which had been lit up as if a production was going on.  It was her off afternoon, a time for production, planning, and whatever was needed.  In her hands, she held a stack of stage maps to plan out the choreography and a pencil.  Beside her armrest was a large thermos of coffee.  She'd been struck by inspiration and had a new play locked in her head.  The writing of it would be simple, the creating of it far more difficult.  In fact, it was almost entirely out of her skill set.  But she was a Producer, and Producers got things done.  To that end, she had emailed Diedre and invited her to come by the theater today at her own convenience.  

They'd worked together in the past, though Theora's massive project had fallen through as the school hadn't awarded her the stage, the test songs had gone well enough and Theora held all the blame for herself.  She'd played too many angles, gone too experimental. She'd let her girls down and they had suffered for it.  Even if they didn't realize it.  But there was a new angle, a new chance, and a hopefully unbeatable pitch in the workings.  She just had to actually find a way to get it all down on paper and in front of the school. This was going to be about more than a simple grade for class, this was going to be a production that could not be ignored and a panto that would spread across the world.  

Back to Note 1

Well, this wasn't what she hoped for either. It was hard to pour your heart into something when it was still a bit broken, but she'd done her best. To be fair, there were complications on her end as well. She'd found herself biting off a bit more than she could chew to some extent, and while she was able to put extra free time into it, the increased anxiety from pressure was slightly impairing to her ability. So she was... disappointed when things fell through. Honestly, though she'd dare not show people, she actually cried - more for 'it's just one thing after another' reasons than for the cancelation in and of itself. It wasn't like she let anyone see or hear her sob, though.

She couldn't really bring herself to be angry at Theora for it all though. Maybe because she knew what it was like to have your hopes crushed. Okay, maybe it wasn't 'crushed' level, but she imagined Theora was more than disappointed. Yet she was somewhat envious of how quickly she realized that Theora had bounced back, albiet in a less bitter way than her envy of singers.

The doors to the theater opened, and Deidre casually walked in, her expression as opaque as ever. Deidre had, predictably, brought her own coffee as well, though it was in one of those Yeti mugs. She glanced down at Theora, as she walked down the center aisle, spying the large number of papers she'd already put together. Well, let it not be said that Theora didn't throw herself 100% behind whatever she did.

Deidre turned the corner to face Theora, though she waited a couple steps in to say, "Hello, Theora." in order to conserve her voice best  she could. Thankfully, her tone wasn't cold or angry or anything, though with Deidre's demeanor, it might not be certain howe she felt.

Deidre pull down her own seat, before sitting down on it, and taking a deep breath, "What are you planning now?" Notably, her own voice seemed a little weaker when she said 'now', if Theora was one to notice.

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Theora stared at the stage, her pencil tapping against the pages, the top one was covered in chicken scratch and writing that might have been code or might have been terrible penmanship. Symbols abounded and arrows swirled through the chaos. Whether any of it made sense was still to be decided but Theora's eraser was still far too clean to indicate any sort of editing. The doors opened behind her and Diedre came in, but Theora didn't look back. In fact, she didn't acknowledge the other student at all. There was no indication that she'd noticed anything outside what was going on inside her own head.

She didn't respond to the greeting or the question, not immediately. She stared forward and tapped her pencil against the scribbled page. "Do you know how many people at this school are disabled?" It was a question out of the blue, a common trait Theora had when her mind was too twisted around a single subject to bother with the niceties of hello. Though this was certainly a new topic, and an insensitive one if she had figured out Diedre's weakness. But Diedre needn't worry about Theora being deliberately insensitive. Theora kept on speaking. "A surprising number, not in that there are more or less than any sort of national average, checking up on such a thing would be a waste of time and memory space."

She set her pencil down but still didn't look at Diedre. "The other week, I closed my eyes and listened to a play. Video off, only the sound trailing through the theater of the mind. Afterwards, I found myself unable to sleep, what a shame that a blind person could not experience a play in the same way I could. I then watched a play, the sound off, nothing but movements and gestures to tell a story. Sleep did not come as I thought about the poor deaf person, unable to enjoy the play as I could." Theora sighed dramatically. "Pride, my Dove, I pitied them because I held myself above them. It is my greatest sin, a dark stain upon my character, but this was a pride in something I had not earned for myself. And so I seek penitence."

She turned to look at Diedre for the first time since the girl had come in. "An opera, or perhaps something more akin to a ballet. A show that can function on a single sense. Universal, no language but that which is entirely human. The music tells a story so that even the blind may follow every twist and turn. The deaf can follow without need of subtitles or an interpreter. The body language and language of the heart is all that should be required." She looked back down at the stage. "It will be truly universal."

That... Gave Me a Bit of a Startle

When Theora failed to answer quickly, Deidre made a quick side-glance to try to divine Theora's latest idea. She was displeased to find that Theora's scrawlings were marginally less comprehensible than hieroglyphics to her. When the producer finally spoke, however, Deidre's heart skipped a beat. As tight-lipped, no pun intended, about her limited ability to speak and sing as she was, even Deidre knew her ability to hide it was imperfect. Her hands gripped the armrests of the chairs, as she expected Theora to grill her on why she hadn't been telling people.

When Theora want on a casual tangent, leading up to her big announcement of her current plan, a somewhat audible sigh of relief could be heard. Her mind cleared, as she analyzed Theora's proposal. Behind the pomp and premise, it was a fairly simple idea. A show where the pictures and words could substitute for each other. On her end, a melody that portrayed the mood, and descriptive lyrics. Challenging certainly, but still doable. She nodded, "Doable."

"I just wish it was a play where the mute could sing along." She thought. Sense might substitute for sense, but substituting expression for expression was a different beast that didn't necissarily carry the same satisfaction.

Prying her mind from her own misfortune, she focused herself at the task at hand, passively motioning to the small orchestral pit, "Found anyone else yet?"

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"Doable perhaps, but can it be done well?" Theora stared at the stage. "I pander to them, I freely admit it, but do they hate me for it or embrace it. Is it worthwhile for those who have both sight and ears or is it grating to be told every single thing that happens before your eyes?" She held out her pen and brought it down, drawing an X on the page. "And there she struck down a thought written, crossed out and discarded." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I think, Dove, that this is beyond me. I may have to find a writer to take under my wing as I drift further and further away from center stage and back in the boxes where the producers belong."

Theora picked up her coffee thermos and gave it a shake before popping off the lid and taking a sip. "No. Nobody else, you're the first person I've told, my confidante. If I'm honest, I figured you'd be the" she paused and waved her hand, trying to conjure the word from the air, "well, you'd be able to give me a lot more insight and stuff that I'm really lacking." She had dropped the flowery language. At this point, while she was still a blow bag, Theora needed to communicate clearly, this was actual work. "I think it would be best to start with a ballet in mind. No words, just a story told in dance and music. Words can come later, I think. But you know how crap I am at writing a tune so I called you first."

Eureka

Deidre listened carefully to Theora. Though she doubted the other girl would admit it, seeing all her work go up in smoke was probably devastating. Deidre wasn't as concerned about her own lost effort, even though it still stung. Whatever the case, it looked like Theora was open to suggestions. The room fell silent for a moment or two, as she sat and thought. What she'd found from her own experience is that so much could be said with so little. Yet... she then realized that that was with words... yet... even sounds could carry meaning, and not just melodies.

"Make it obvious." Deidre mentioned, tapping the arm of her chair as she thought, "But not express." Deidre waited for a moment, to let it sink in, before giving her an example, "Steps echos. Tap dance shoes." You didn't have to hear 'she runs', if the footwear loudly gave it away. Yet it wouldn't be repetitive to those who could see and hear alike. She was sure that Theora could think of the other ones, "Soft music makes it audible." she said, her voice sounding slightly stressed at the end of it.

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Theora sat in silence with Diedra, she respected the girl's opinions. That's why she'd hired Diedra after all. A bad leader didn't listen to their subordinates. Although a bad leader was also somebody who didn't tell them no when the idea wouldn't work also, but listening was important. It wasn't an easy question, and Diedra hadn't had as much time to stew and think over the options as much as Theora had. It was only fair to give her time to think, to come up with an idea. And, in the end, her patience was rewarded.

"I see." Theora muttered and turned to look at the stage. In her head she could picture it. "Soft music, maybe. How did I not think of it?" She shook her head in disappointment. But then, she had been caught on ballet. Sometimes you just needed a fresh pair of eyes looking for the answer. "Though maybe not so soft, you would be surprised at how loud tap shoes can be." Almost deafening if there were enough of them in a single area. "That's brilliant, Dove." That said, Theora was no good at tapping, she'd need a choreographer as well. "I'm going to have to really separate myself from this production." She said, her voice softened again and her eyes turned back to her coffee cup. "It was only a matter of time. I can only do so much myself, and I'm only mediocre at most everything required by the theater." She shook her head. "But I can put what talents I do have toward her. In that way I can be a part of the stage."

We All Have our thing

A small smile momentarily graced the young composer's face as she was praised. It was an ambiuous idea to be sure. But nothing was ever accomplished through trying the same old, same old - at least, nothing of note. Whether Theora suceeded or failed, she'd learn something. Besides, overstretching her own talents was a learning experience as well. She intended to get good while she was here, and would do whatever she could to improve. Theora's projects were a good start to be sure.

She shook her head. "I can't tailor." she pointed out, "Not my specialty." She told her, as she continued to continue, "Sparks start fires... That's you."  No production happened without a producer, that was the plain and simple of it. Of course Theora wasn't an actress, she was a producer.

Deidre straightened her posture back up, as she continued to try to console Theora the best she could. There was perhaps a deeper story. She wasn't going to dig, at least not for now. "Here to improve."

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"Tailor?" Who had said anything about tailoring. She obviously misunderstood that portion of the point that Diedre was trying to make. But, being Theora, she interpreted it the way that was most advantageous. "Oh but of course. Well you don't need to worry about that. But very clever regardless." Theora's mind went to costumes and she simply assumed Diedra had moved forward to that same thought slightly sooner. "Well you can trust in me to start some great fires under a tailor or two."

Theora brought her hand to her chin and tapped it. "Of course, for those who can't hear, sight will be more than just seeing the actors and actresses move on stage, the costumes will be integral. I shall have to find some brilliant soul who can do costumes that shout out words in themselves." That would be more difficult. While she had a few contacts in the more physically creative and crafty groups, they tended to be painters or builders, people she could rely on for props.

"You've been so helpful already, my Dove." Theora said, turning once again to Diedre. "You wouldn't happen to know any brilliant fashionistas or clothiers? Some lost girl with a talent for design, though a purposeless loss of self does help. I find those sorts are a lot easier to help find a purpose in the theater."

_+1 PC tO PLOT

"Plan for the deaf." she told her, "Plan for the normal too." Her voice did fade slightly with the last 'too' for a moment, though Deidre didn't seem to notice it. The cute semi-mute thought for a few moments, tapping her foot, before a face came to mind.

"Ikezawa, Komachi." she mentioned, "Second year. Share elective." She took a moment to think. She seemed pretty skilled for her year though, from what little she'd seen. Not that Deidre was particularly close to the heiress, but the daughter of one hit wonders knew just enough.

"Send her your way?"

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"Yeah, I don't want to be niche, you know?" She leaned back in her chair and stared up into the blackness where the lighting rigs hung. "If this play is just written off as the play for the disabled, that's pretty much a failure too." She frowned at the idea. "It pisses me off already when people say I'm 'good for a student'." She emphasized the word student. "Like, that's basically being told that I'm shit, not good enough to hack it out in the real theater." She could see the faces of them up their in the darkness, the faces of these random critics painted in the inky blackness.

"Maybe their right, but they sure as hell aren't helping me get better. Bastards." What was so amateur about it? Of course she was just a student but if she wasn't told what her mistakes were in comparison to the professional stage, how would she know where to improve? And just all around general improvement wasn't real advice either. Were the problems in or out of her control? If the problem was that all her actresses were preteens then there was only so much you could do about that for a school play. She paused as the Dove spoke a name.

"Ikezawa," she said slowly, "Ikezawa. No, I don't believe I have met the lady in question." Possibly she would be a good target if Diedre had a positive opinion of her. "I would not say no if you did. Though only if you feel close or comfortable enough to do so. I would not like to impose." She said with a smile at Diedre, though that last bit was an obvious lie. "Perhaps I'll do a bit of investigation into this girl myself."

Much Ado

She could understand it, to a degree. 'Good for a student'. Man, that's a way to give a compliment. She understood what it was supposed to mean, don't let it go to your head, blah blah blah. Just let her know she's doing well, without patronizing her. She politely refrained from reminding Theora that they were still students themselves, but she got the frustration.

Deidre briefly glanced upward as well, as if to check whether there was anything in particular that Theora was looking at. She nodded, before saying, "I will." She wasn't the best at talking, for obvious reasons, but she could still manage communication. As long as she could still do that, she had the ability to recruit others for whatever.

Deidre had started slouching, so she readjusted her position. She reflexively smiled back. Apparently, good posture helped you focus or something. She decided it was probably time to either finish up the conversation, or move on to the next part of the topic, "Anything else?" she asked "To talk about?"

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"Fantastic." Theora said. It would be an easy in, should it work out. That said, easy wasn't always best. But if she could work something out then maybe this show could exist. Maybe her dream could work out in the end. But it was all so many maybes. How did the saying go? If wishes were fishes the poor could eat? Something of that nature. She'd have to look it up, it was a good phrase, maybe there'd be some way to slip it into conversation one day. It would make her sound cultured, or clever if people didn't know it was a quote.

"Anything else? Not particularly, at least, not from me. Certainly I could find something to talk about if I were to strain myself." Theora said despite all evidence that it would be no strain at all. "I suppose all I needed was somebody to tell me if I'm making a mistake." She scratched the side of her cheek and looked at Diedre. "I do, perhaps, go overboard sometimes. I am over enthusiastic and I do things I should not."

Theora looked back down onto the stage. A stage show like this was catering or was it pandering to the disabled. Could it be done? Obviously it could. But could it be done by her? And should it be? Well, who else? "You are, I think, the most level headed of the people I would call my friends. So I value your input. Thank you. You may go, if you wish." It wasn't exactly the kindest way to say goodbye, but it was not an insistence. Well, she would say goodbye properly if Diedre did decide to go.

And... Exit.

Well, Theora seemed to be perky again. Not that Deidre wasn't a bit overambitious herself, perhaps compensatory. She lost her dream, but she would still succeed somehow, even if it wasn't as she truly wished. She nodded, as she was dismissed, nodding in affirmation.

The girl smiled a bit a the compliment, called level headed. "Thank you, I'll keep in touch." she told her. With that, Deidre turned toward the door, happy with the progress she'd made today. And, with hope, towards a successful production.

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"I shall send you an email if anything comes up." Theora said and made a slight wave goodbye. "See you later, Dove. Goodbye and good luck with your own projects." It really wasn't fair to monopolize the girl's time. At least, not yet. She didn't have anything for her Dove to work on. But later, once she did, there would be a great deal more demanding of Diedre's skills, time, and creativity.

Theora watched her leave and then turned her attention back to the stage. Emptiness, loneliness, it was all there. She frowned. Maybe what she needed was some personal stories, to talk to people, those who might be the target of her work. She didn't really know many, just the one. Well, some might say there was no time like the present, but Theora had found that it was better to go in with a plan. More likely to succeed as well, though not nearly as fun.