namegoeshereagain

[namegoeshereagain]

Script update WIP

Basically just added an act 1 and 2 also, stage directions may come off as highly rambley but it's just me tryna add character emotion/subtext as a bulk of clay to try to trim and carve later on

SPATIAL LAYOUT:



PRODUCTION NOTES:

CHARACTERS:

TELEO: Chained prisoner to the pursuit of logic and reason.

ANIMA: Unchained prisoner disillusioned by shadows. Unable to face the fire. He suffers in the space between knowing and refusing.

CYNICUS: Chained prisoner bound to performance: cunning, satire and sophism.

VOID: Unseen puppeteer of TELEO and CYNICUS. The silent firekeeper of illusion.

COSTUME/LOOKS:

TELEO: Blue toga, pristine.

CYNICUS: Red toga, pristine.

VOID: Black toga, intact until the knees where it frays and tears.

ANIMA: His green toga is completely torn—some damage from crawling, some self-inflicted. He is extremely disheveled: his beard long and unkempt, his body covered in self-imposed scrape marks from the jagged cave walls. His presence suggests prolonged suffering, perhaps the collapse of identity itself.

SETTING:

Inside a claustrophobic cave. Three gravestone-like blocks stand in a row and hold up the backs of TELEO and CYNICUS. TELEO and CYNICUS are chained to the right and left blocks. The center column bears only a broken chain—ANIMA's former tether. Behind the blocks, a campfire burns. VOID sits at it, using two puppets to cast shadows on the wall directly in front of TELEO and CYNICUS. TELEO and CYNICUS have watched these shadows their whole lives. To them, the puppets are their bodies—their true selves. ANIMA—once chained, now unbound—is disillusioned by the puppetry. Yet he has not turned around. He has not seen who pulls the strings. He has not broken the fourth wall.

STAGING RULES:

ANIMA, free of chains, can only turn in three directions - left, right and center. He does not (yet) break the fourth wall by turning around to face the fire, the puppets, the chains—or VOID (This occurs in Act II.) ANIMA’s inability to face the fire is not physical restraint like with TELEO or CYNICUS, but psychological refusal. The actor must convey the tension of knowing something is behind him but being unable to acknowledge it.

When the fire is lit, TELEO and CYNICUS believe the shadows on the wall are their physical selves. ANIMA watches them, escaping his mind through their ceaseless debate. ANIMA has no puppet to identify himself as.

When the fire is extinguished, for TELEO and CYNICUS, they exist inside a void without physical form. During this time, ANIMA may approach or even touch them—but they cannot see or feel him. He remains a blur, unprocessed. They can hear ANIMA but mistake him for a vague presence—meant only to stimulate thought.

MOOD: The fire has freshly gone out; the air is ashy. All characters are aware. Something is bound to happen. For CYNICUS and TELEO, they no longer inhabit physical forms — they exist only as pure personality or thought. For ANIMA, the dance of shadows is over: no debate, no drama, no warmth. Only silence. Only himself.

PROLOGUE

[The audience walked into a dark room without lighting. It is warm from a freshly gone out fire. A smell of incense of freshly burned wood falls from the air.

TECH CUE: ROOM IS HEATED TO 28 TO INDUCE SWEAT

Their first instinct will be to look for an anchor: a seat, an usher, a spotlight, a stage line – anything that is familiar to off-load decision making. The audience remains clustered in the entry corner. They resemble thinkers, but behave like livestock - left to fester in their supposed conscious independence.

They might try to make out if there are seats to sit on and also the environment around them, yet this attention will come in and out of focus as they are forced to step aside as other people are ushered in (they are not in control).

The environment around them is indistinguishable from monotone shades of bold blacks and dark greys. Through that, the bare approximation of what looks to be three stagnant, lifeless, humanoid forms is apparent; then another - ANIMA - rocks his head just subtly, breathing a little deeper than the others with his abdomen pulling in and pushing out further than the others.

The audience’s eyes may superficially furrow and try to discern further details of the disorienting environment around them, but in the background of their mind, a restless flux in attention is everpresent – the insecurities of what they are supposed to do, whether they should move around - whether it will interfere with the performance - whether these thoughts are fine to even have…

As those insecurities build, ANIMA begins mumbling a mantra in his dark words periodically, rhythmically – “Die…Stop…Fuck you…Just stop…end”. These lines are uttered a minimum of 30 seconds after all audience members have entered the a room -ANIMA should feel this sense of insecurity and restlessness of the audience and choose the optimal time to begin this muttering.

Any audience bickering between one another - any facial twitches of smiles exchanged for levity will be quelled as they are forced to directly listen in on the hyperbole of their insecurities, embodied through ANIMA.

“Am I supposed to be standing here…what do I do…what’s going on…is this right?” the audience might desperately ask internally. Still huddled homogeneously around the entrance like the consciously independent shams they are - they exchange body warmth as a heat of anxiety might pulse through their backs as they resist this discomfort. They won’t be able to verbalise out of etiquette as now an actor is speaking out their oppressive insecurities. They might feel that they’ve stumbled into a scene of wolves eating a deer alive – as though they shouldn’t be there despite the deer’s dying squeals for help.

Some may disperse around the room so they may sit on the jagged rocks or stand. The ground, layered by jagged rocks, will give them discomfort if they choose to sit. Will they move further to sit around, in-between or besides the actors despite the tight space begging for it.

They will wait for strangers surrounding them to be the first to move around or sit, fearing social judgement, rejection or evil eyes if they were the first. This distils an inherent panic - social rejection and amplifies the tension between strangers sitting near one another in a theatrical setting. In close proximity without direction or leading, I want them to see themselves as the herded swine ready for apathetic slaughter.

Out of a rumble of words accelerating, ANIMA rumbles]

ANIMA: (softly, to no one in particular) Where are we?

TELEO: (distant) Huh?

ANIMA: Where are we, TELEO? CYNICUS?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: Where are you?

CYNICUS: (muffled, lazy) Obviously I’m asleep. That’s why I’m talking right now…

[An indignated pause by ANIMA]

ANIMA: (with spite) Have you realized how absurd this all is?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: It’s painful.

TELEO: (bracing) What is?

ANIMA: Life.

TELEO: We know that. But we live to grow, remember?

ANIMA: Live to grow.

TELEO: Yeah...our suffering is necessary to grow in life.

[ANIMA’s breathing slows - there is a pause - the weight of a thousand rocks bears on his breath]

ANIMA: ...what if I don’t want to grow? 

[His breathing accelerates as he finds what he deems is strength to speak]

What if I don’t want to live?

[Silence. TELEO understands what ANIMA means, and unsure that logic will satiate ANIMA’s thinking, he presses further anyways, stuttering - unsure]

TELEO: Then l-live. Aware. In spite of it. 

[The bareness of that thought sits on ANIMA as it begins to fuel the entanglement of his thinking- rapidly, CYNICUS says]

CYNICUS: Bullshit. ANIMA, deary, let my lusting licks of luster lap your ears in a blanket of sooooooothingnesss…

come closer to me - my voice. 

[ANIMA, confused, in a web of worry, disorientation and dissociation gets up - his body almost limp and catatonic – he makes no eye contact with the focal point of his vision – everything is in his peripheral vision. His feet step left, crossing each other – his movement stumbles - it doesn't spare the energy to turn his body and approach intention…when his foot senses resistance - contact with something vaguely warm - CYNICUS’ exposed thigh, he kneels passively - the jagged rocks digging into his kneecaps and his body hunches over and collapses on CYNICUS’ lap]

ANIMA: I want to die.

[CYNICUS immediately coats ANIMA’s words, kicking back, almost maternally:] 

CYNICUS: Hushh…Feel the heat of my breath lulling you to sleep. 

ANIMA: (perplexed, dazed, fighting a war of fog) I feel…dead.

 CYNICUS: (honest, lucid and frank) No, you feel like you want awareness to drift away, until you're left gliding weightlessly, free falling deep into slumber…

[ANIMA breathes meditatively. Contemplatively, as though finding a trench to hide in from the chaos, he nestles deeper into CYNICUS’ lap and slowly confesses]

ANIMA: I don't want that…I want an end- to this all.

[There is a pause]

CYNICUS: Tell me about i/

TELEO: Stop. He's not entertaining you.

CYNICUS: (snaps) Entertain me? You're being so facetious- (stresses) love.

[A weighted pause lies on the other end of that word “love”. It stuns TELEO, making him disengage immediately. CYNICUS, knowing the deep implications of that volatile noun slowly rears himself back to his baseline calm]

CYNICUS: (trepidatious and slowly) ANIMA. (proposed in a quick, quirky and carefree way) How do you wanna kill yourself?

(Pause. The air reeks of inauthenticity, of repressed guilt cloaked in silence. This, being felt by ANIMA, causes his eyes to open. He stares at the ground, face still on CYNICUS’ lap. His eyes only make out vague shapes – ball-like illusions that scatter the ground)

ANIMA: (in a dissociative state) Lift blunt rock… bash into skull. (He mimes tapping his temple thrice.)

CYNICUS: (mockingly and quickly) What is—rock?

[The mild maternal comfort of CYNICUS’ presence has now completely faded into that of a quick witted satirist. ANIMA notices this confrontational attitude of CYNICUS and tightens up; from being nestled in the dissociative comfort of his peripheral vision, he’s forced to focus his vision on a singular rock. The brute way out. His mind races]

TELEO: You’re making it worse/

CYNICUS: love, what am I making worse?

[Silence. TELEO does not respond. An unestablished, unresolved, muddy significance to that word “love” lingers] 

[ANIMA - waning - forced to focus - knows that any of his descriptions are meaningless to these people who can’t see the world around them. Yet, forced to take part in the unbearable focus of answering a question, he has to be part of the world again. He discerns the form of the rock whilst his need to die is simultaneously screaming - superimposed with his own awareness]

ANIMA: Heavy ball-like objects.

[As soon as ANIMA verbalises this, his vision defocuses- he stares, cross eyed - the only bearable reality surrounding him - defocused – blurry. Back inside this mental vacuum, his logic doesn’t eat him alive - his thinking and awareness are separate]

[CYNICUS is still quite conversational and jovial, quickly responding]

CYNICUS: Ohh…balls…are they big balls? (laughs)

Only kidding – why choose something so painful, deary?

[Silence. The disjunctness of tones, identity, egos between ANIMA and CYNICUS sit with the audience like how a jester sits, staring at a mirror - laughing - for hours on end.

In this time, the word “pain” pulses through ANIMA’s mind as naturally as blood does through a bloodstream. And then in an instant – stillness. The organ of his mind has been beat to produce awareness]

ANIMA:

I feel so much pain, but, how to stare at the face of Suffering…lift its hand of hurt up and thrash it against my head?

Would my muscles seize up? Could I keep myself present, aware - awake enough to deal the second, third, forth blow? Could I make my unconsciousness finally be - my end?

[CYNICUS, unphased, with no gap, conversationally responds]

CYNICUS: Oh - clever -- you want to like…sleep permanently then, right! Oh my gosh –  I do too! But it’s so much yucky bash bash business, that way…it’s no fun!…(excited) How about…you try it first…and if it works…let me know, and then - I can try/

TELEO: St/

CYNICUS: (smiling) Loveeee…hush. (excited) Why don’t you try it ANIMA?

ANIMA: I don’t have a heart to try…

(CYNICUS tilts his head, slightly confused, grinning - curious and open mouthed)

CYNICUS: (mock surprise) Heart…?

(ANIMA is reminded he’s speaking to someone who can’t physically feel him – feel the pulse of his beating chest…the reminder triggers ANIMA as it encroaches on a primal and base territory about his understanding of reality – the only thing he knows is real – surrounding him. ANIMA suddenly lunge forward, grabbing CYNICUS’ hair, pressing his mouth against CYNICUS’ ear)

ANIMA: It’s somewhere outside this cave…

CYNICUS: (mock shock, voice dripping with sarcasm) Oh no! Not the cave!?

(ANIMA knows he’s being satirised - that his reality is being rejected. He is reminded of his forced solitude while a sense of tragedy befalls him. He tries to express what the cave is, besides in terms he thinks CYNICUS can understand)

ANIMA: I’m hollow inside…That cave…(realisation) you don’t understand?

CYNICUS: (mockingly. sarcastic) Ohhh, of couuurse I do.

ANIMA: (snaps, whispering) You think this is a joke? Just look at my. GAPING. FUCKING. WOUND.

[Spurred by an overwhelming need to convince, ANIMA violently drags CYNICUS face all around the cave, forcing him to stare. But CYNICUS’ eyes remain fixed elsewhere, his face blank, impassive – he feels nothing]

CYNICUS: (calm, passive, utterly detached) HAHAHAH. You really are - so fucked in the head (chuckles and takes a deep breath and says like how a mom speaks to a baby)

Delusional shouting freak - ANIMA. Lost in his cave. Without a heart. Isolated…Wanting to go die. When’s the story gonna change, ANIMA- when are you just gonna do it. 

TELEO: CYNICUS- JUST STOP!

CYNICUS: (detached, smiling, cunningly) Or what?

[Silence. ANIMA, breath coming in ragged gasps, scrambles backward. His hands dig into the sharp rocks beneath him. He lifts himself up. In almost a whisper, he says]

ANIMA: Die. Just die. Both of you.

[ANIMA moves toward the entrance of the cave which is on the left to CYNICUS…And then— A flicker of light. VOID starts the fire. ANIMA stops moving unwillingly - stuck, frozen…His neck rotates  to face the wall the fire is being shone on]

[A low tone drone is heard – a cleansing pallet between the prologue and act 1 plays for around thirty seconds as the fumes of fire fill the air]

[After the low tone drone fades out, VOID moves the two puppets on either hand in front of the fire and two humanoid silhouettes who TELEO and CYNICUS believe to be themselves are projected on the wall beside ANIMA]

ACT 1

[TELEO and CYNICUS have always heard ANIMA’s voice in the dark; they see him as something that stimulates their mind – between light.  They’ve heard the gradual deterioration to his verbalised thoughts over time. Today is the first time he told them to die. To TELEO, these thoughts have a logical solution; a means of living, a treatise exists to solve this problem. To CYNICUS, these thoughts are the polar opposite to his natural disposition – pleasure. CYNICUS has tried to offer ANIMA aspects of his pleasure - and when he refuses, CYNICUS has explored his thoughts. To CYNICUS, ANIMA’s thoughts, as unstable as leaking electricity, are conducted through the metal of a cave and thoughts of wanting him to die. CYNICUS sees it as redundant to keep trying…and snaps into mocking it]

[CYNICUS saw this as inevitable - that ANIMA would escalate his thinking to wanting him to die. Vitriolic with a layer of cunning and wit masked ontop of it]

[TELEO obviously has an ordeal with satisfying his physical needs…to him it is the noise and fetter and mess of the physical world – he sees it as when the light turns on, his artificial instincts also turn in the dark, his more prolonged, consistent state purely natural – mental. He sees ANIMA as pure mind and is in denial that his ideal (a free-thinking form of the mental with unrestricted consciousness could ever implode) – hallucinate seemingly. He believes that ANIMA must be okay…that if he shares enough rational truths about him and diverts ANIMA from this path of obsession, fixation over seemingly unjustified feelings, their dialogues can be great and that he won’t have to rely on CYNICUS for a means of communication. His deepest philosophical compulsion is to be known- not vaguely, but bluntly and truthfully.. He is unaware that he will ignore the real significance of ANIMA’s emotional state just to clutch on to this ideal - that if he gives a certain, not yet expressed philosophical wisdom to ANIMA, ANIMA’s emotional state will suddenly fix itself, and then he’ll have the perfect partner to dialogue with inside a combined mental symposium, as CYNICUS is now left pushed to the side – forced to understand ANIMA and TELEO’s combined truths. There is desperation; he wants to feel in control]

ACT 1

[TELEO in the light – his mind remains focused on ANIMA even though he sees his body]

TELEO: (in a hushed voice, almost whispering, his mind is churning)

Why have his thoughts…gotten so much darker since last time…

CYNICUS: maybe if he does his head in with a rock hard enough, he’ll get happy thoughts.

TELEO: (replies, instantly) It’s impossible…he doesn’t have the means to…why does he want to end himself?

CYNICUS: (snarky) Why do you need to think about him in the light?

TELEO: Because- his life…it has to be valuable to me…

CYNICUS: What, a literal voice in the dark- why?

[TELEO corrects CYNICUS, sharply]

TELEO: (slowly, expressly, deliberately) He- is- a mind…just- like- us… 

CYNICUS: (instantly) No. I’m just a body that prefers to be mindless.

[after a weighted pause. A battle is taking place in TELEO’s mind between ideological philosophy and skeptical questioning]

TELEO:  (passive, skeptical) ANIMA, are you just a signifier of what happens to a mind without a body - hallucinating an environment around it – crumbling under the weight of its own pressure? 

[TELEO pauses, his mind spirals; he realises that if he believes that pure mind has bad consequences, his metaphysics crumbles �� and he steps back from the ledge of falling into the unknown]

No- no-no…I-I can’t think like that…

CYNICUS: You can’t think that a ghoulish voice who only comes out in the dark has completely lost it? For fucks sake, did you hear him saying  “there's a massive cave of my gaping heart around me”?…can't you see that a sad voice in the dark just wants to stop speaking, but, OH NO, to you – IT’S A MIND ENDING ITSELF!!…you need to stop overthinking shit and actually focus on what’s around you, TELEO.

TELEO: (struggling, ideological)…He can think straight…he must be able to, again…(while struggling, trying to convince himself) All he needs is to be believed in…when all he knows now is hate…maybe all he needs is care…

CYNICUS: (triggered) Care? Please. Since when has he cared for us? All he does is fill the air with whimpers of isolation like it's our own natural ways of thinking…

(genuinely pissed off) Care…I used to spoon-feed him lullabies while he wept and spat bile. Guess who felt like a freak?

TELEO: (pause. Passively going with philosophy, confused – torn between giving up on ANIMA out of skepticism and clinging onto his philosophical ideals) I heard that all, right…? Surely he wasn’t in the right…and we gave him everything we could/

CYNICUS: (vulnerability) I’d have already given him my body back then if he was physical, just to make him feel okay. 

(BEAT. TELEO is stunned)

His nature won’t change, TELEO - I’ve accepted it – no matter how much you’ll tell him to keep holding on, he’ll keep sabotaging your ideals…because his feelings have always been more important to him than us...You said it - he’s crumbling under the weight of his own pressure - he’s telling us to die in these final hours…(snaps back into being critical) Wake. Up. He’s using your sympathy to fuel his apathy. 

TELEO: (confused, extremely desperate) He’s a mind - a mi-a mind that can…(TELEO stops. He’s staring directly into a gaping hole, off of the ledge of philosophical ideology) A mind who’s waiting to die…(A mirror of ANIMA’s thinking has consumed TELEO – his mind lingers on the word “death” as the foundation of the ledge begins to crumble) Is that how you feel, ANIMA? (rawly, not hiding, with the conviction of truth)

His thinking is too much for him to handle alone. I need to tell him that he has me.

[The weight of that sentiment sits in the air as though philosophical ideology has been pushed aside by TELEO and that through uncomfortable skeptical investigation, he has found a raw truth – a way to treat ANIMA outside of the confines of the ego]

[With that saying, CYNICUS is taken to the crumbling ledge that overlooks truth and stares at that raw truth as it is, responding quite openly]

[ANIMA and CYNICUS say this line at the same time. ANIMA is like a ghost who's heard this all before]

ANIMA: You keep trying…

CYNICUS: (vulnerably, open) You keep trying…

[And yet, CYNICUS slowly begins to realise the consequences of the stopping of this drama…the consequences to accepting ANIMA – that the body of TELEO and CYNICUS would mean nothing, that TELEO would win and that he’ll lose direct control over TELEO. If TELEO were to be compassionate, it would change everything for CYNICUS as he knew it…]

[silence]

But, oh, just remember one thing….That- when you tell him that…that you go make your own pleasure noises with him in the dark – simulate something sensual you won’t ever get ever from me again… 

[BEAT - TELEO’s heart races]

TELEO: Why - do you like to bully?

CYNICUS: Bully? Oh, you mean shitting on a shitbag “that lives in a cave without a heart”. I mean, what the fuck else does he deserve? [laughs]

TELEO: I wasn’t referring to him…he’s not the one you really like to make feel scared – alone…afraid…

[Beat]

CYNICUS: …and you are?

TELEO: ...

CYNICUS: Say it. Be honest for once…But then, that’s a recurring theme with you right…so virtuous, so morally right and willing to help this “mind” when you’re cowering from yourself – from your physical needs.

TELEO: Shut up.

CYNICUS: Oh, do I have your attention now?…You are the one who brought this up so let me give you the realest piece of someone’s mind you’ve heard so far. You’re gonna sit there now and take it, like you always do—silently, gratefully. Mm? 

TELEO: …

CYNICUS: What am I to you, really? You keep chasing a whisper in the wind even in the light but something is right here…you can hold it…

TELEO: …

CYNICUS: I'm some-thing to you, aren’t I TELEO. ANIMA’s your real somebody, even though he doesn’t have a body, but, I don’t mind being a some-thing as long as I’m your thing…

TELEO: Please…stop…

CYNICUS: Oh, I will, as soon as I know excatly who I am to you…my love.

TELEO: DON’T CALL ME THAT- I ‘LL SMASH YOUR HEAD IN WITH A ROCK. 

[Silence]

CYNICUS: BAHAHAHAHAH.

Quoting his fantasies now? You really are in love with him (laughs a bit and then abruptly hangs up the facade) You bore me. I’m going to sleep now.

[Minutes pass in uncomfortable silence. CYNICUS seemingly instantly sleeping, TELEO slightly traumatised after a hefty weight of time staring at CYNICUS begins reading a book he’s clutched in his hands thus far, periodically looking up at CYNICUS to see if he’s awake. After a while, pent up frustration takes the better of TELEO – he slams his book shut]

TELEO: You think you have a chokehold over me - because of one word you think you can stop my speech? DO IT AGAIN, GO AHEAD – EMBARRASS ME - SAY SOMETHING.

[Silence. TELEO being fuelled by his textual ideology is in his final form of vitriol – preaching ad nauseum – letting pure logical slop swish around in his brain]

You shut your mouth now? What do you aim to get by stunting your meaningless theatrics- what purpose does it serve? Triggering my embaressment?

CYNICUS: (pretending, a quarter awake) Nghh, what? 

[ANIMA and TELEO say this line at the same time. ANIMA is like a ghost who's heard this before]

TELEO: Belittle me. Embarrass me. Try. Go ahead.

ANIMA: Belittle me. Embarrass me. Try…

CYNICUS: (pretending, half awake) Ngghh…Leave me alone….Go back to reading.

TELEO: (factually) I cant concentrate.

CYNICUS: (seeing an opportunity, and jumping to full awakeness, cunningly) Then concentrate. In spite of it.

[TELEO begins to question if anything about CYNICUS is real. His mind spirals as he tries to focus on the words of his book – after some time]

TELEO: Just embarrass me.

CYNICUS: (pretending, half-awake)…I don’t want to embarrass you, now, fuck off.

TELEO: …Don’t you want to please yourself?

CYNICUS: …That won’t please me…I want you to pleasure yourself-like when you’ll (yawn) bash my head with a rock…

[silence. TELEO is thinking how hedonistic and fucked this is and injects a lethal dose of book reading into the conversation]

 

TELEO: This book is about ancient Greek mythology...the ancient Greeks are an idea of a bunch of people who prioritise virtue above their carnal instincts.

The mythology of the Greeks [scans the page] - their Gods are these giants with total power and control and will never unalive and only choose do good with it and they’re praised and worshipped by the Greeks. 

Through belief in these Gods’ guidance, the ANCIENT GREEKS’ desires are under control and action based on reason- ration-goodness only exists.

CYNICUS: Oh yeah? Sounds like you need a God or two to save you from your simmering, seething, sinful desires...love...

TELEO: Love? LOVE? 

Heh, an important God in this book is Aphrodite. The God lives atop Mount Olympoo, and, while you concern yourself with common Aphrodite, CYNICUS, I concern myself with heavenly Aphrodite. 

That is, you concern yourself with the baser sort of love for satisfaction of your own desires-- you habitually sleep, waste and decay in all your wants of common Aphrodite!

My love, instead, [puffs out chest] suspends my desires and fixes upon flourishing in the goal of excellence.

I am like [looks at book] Sissyface- pushing a boulder up Mount Olympus, striving towards Heavenly Aphrodite.

CYNICUS: Hmm...when did you start believing that?

Your miscalculations have been happening over and over, more often than usual recently...you know what I’m talking about -- those accidental releases of all your pent up passions; those thick, gooey spurts of mistakes…heheh…they’re happening so often now that I’m beginning to doubt that you believe anything you even say...

[SILENCE]

Here, how bout this, TELEEY.

How about we play together one final time—for old time sakes

How does that sound – 

I’ll stop provoking you and you…

You can be my Sissyface while I'm your Aphrodite…I can pull you up the mountain, TELEO and watch you slip back down…

[the shadow puppet of  TELEO walks over to CYNICUS]

TELEO: You take me for a fucking joke? I will bash your head in with this rock.

CYNICUS: Ohh, yes – you sound exactly like your lover! Yess, do it to me – brutally, painfully – slowly – TAKE ME TO ANIMA’S PARADISE!

[CYNICUS’ throws out his arms while TELEO is frozen – CYNICUS’ fingers begin to wander up TELEO’s chest]

CYNICUS: Mmm...what a built chest you have, Mr boulder pusher…TEELEEY, it’s so erotic seeing you defenselessly tower over me- knowing your ideology can’t save you from what you truly crave...

[CYNICUS’ fingers crawl up TELEO’s arm which is pressed against his book]

 I can satisfy your craving, TEELEEY…just…ravage me…

TELEO: [hesitantly] These artificial instincts that turn on in the lights…If Gods of virtue are watching…let them see my soul before I fall…[sticks out chest further]

CYNICUS: Virtue? Hmm…I suck the sweetness out of it and mix it with the bitterness of my gall, only to shit it out from whence it came…climb on me like your mountain…

TELEO: I won’t…that’s not…who I am…

[beat]

CYNICUS: (abruptly) You bore me. I’m tired.

[CYNICUS’ puppet impromptu just lays down and begins resting]

[silence. TELEO feels cuckholded]

TELEO: W...what...?

[TELEO’S puppet’s head begins shaking]

[There is no response, only silence]

[TELEO’s puppet grabs CYNICUS puppet from his bed and flips him in his arms. Grunting and a bit of a struggle can be heard]

CYNICUS: Mmm, whaaaat...Let me sleep. Fuck off.

[TELEO grabs CYNICUS’ body upwards]

What do you want? Another rebuttal—or to sleep in my arms?

[BEAT]

TELEO:  I don’t…I don’t know what I want.

[BEAT]

CYNICUS: [drops act almost as a genuine response to TELEO’s vulnerability – serious and genuine. Yet still smiling and teasing from a higher level. Without stigma. Exploring]

Of course you do. Come explore me TELEO...

[gently interlocks hands with TELEO]

Don’t you like this unusual curvature…The softness of this plump chest…Don’t you want to feel these…

 [guides TELEO’S hands to CYNICUS’ breast]

My my, [chuckles] I can already feel little you pressing into me.

TELEO: [somewhat with pride, somewhat with sexy talk in mind. Very awkward. Virgin energies. He half believes everything he says. CYNICUS asks intimately and ironically]

CYNICUS: Who am I?

TELEO: Not a man…nor a farce…worse than all— a fiending sophist.

I hate you and everything you stand for...I’ll climb your mountain...and push you off it’s cliff.

[CYNICUS’ puppet’s nose touches TELEO’s puppet’s nose] 

CYNICUS: Push me, TELEO. Let the Gods witness your collapse.

[Puppets: TELEO pushes CYNICUS’ hips to the ground with his two arms. The audience can see TELEO’s body towering over CYNICUS’s as he launches down to CYNICUS and begins animalistically kissing CYNICUS] 

ACT 2 

[A warm and delicate scene which is also psychologically haunting…ANIMA’s mind materialises in front of him – a looping sound of kissing and grunting is faintly heard and the last lines by TELEO and CYNICUS repeat in the playback –  “I hate you and everything you stand for...I’ll climb your mountain...and push you off it’s cliff.”, “Push me, TELEO. Let the Gods witness your collapse”.

After minutes of hearing this, in a slow stupor, ANIMA rises off the floor…a beautiful and dark and rich scene where there is a slow choreographed moving of him…aware and conscious of every footstep…he reaches the wall, slowly lifting his hand and placing it on the body of the shadows…only met by the cold touch of stone]

ANIMA: (profound, conscious, aware) It's the same scene over and over again…looping…

[With his awareness, the psychological sound loop switches off. The puppets freeze in place as though whatever was directing them was facing an unexpected circumstance…at once, ANIMA sees in his peripheral – the dust of the air falling down on him, lit by tangents of some-thing that’s warm and glows – that he’s never faced to see…Tracing them glowing tangents from where they eminate from, he slowly turns his head ninety degrees to the right…struggling for his body again to spare the effort to turn direction and his feet follow suit, turning with trepidation…once fully ninety degrees, after struggling breaths - with his heart pumping and his mind screaming “NO.” his body and head - his mind are - one and they turn completely backwards…

For a brief second, ANIMA closes his eyes, furrowing his brows as an excruciating and blinding glow is seen…but just as he opens his eyes - a BLACKOUT – VOID has blown the fire out]

[TELEO and CYNICUS fall silent. Their bodies slump, lifeless. Stuck. They haven't yet processed that their physical form has been taken away at an instant even if they are processing anything. Their minds are almost blank – tabula rasa]

[ANIMA steps slowly towards VOID - eyes fixed - in a way that's cautious yet is coming to accept. He walks past his post – trying to step through the fire but sensing it is too hot – he walks around it's circumference to face VOID. passing the fire  and slowly kneels.]

[VOID as a character is the embodiment of trauma. Seeking a safe space, attending to that and having created that in a liminal realm. He is the manifestation, the materialised form made into a reality of the excess of our minds…suicidal thoughts, self hate, apathy and disparity towards the cruelness of the world. He is the submerged vulnerability we hide. The instance of fixation. The alternative self care principle. He bears and carries the weight of his children; the prisoners like a mother doing their best for a child when they scream but having no real loving instincts. VOID has locked ANIMA into watching the cycle of debate in his thoughts (TELEO and CYNICUS) repeat for ages…not out of love or fear, but acceptance that this is all ANIMA has…that the world out there is as cruel as it's always been and that the solace of meaninglessness- insignificance is all ANIMA knows he can ever feasibly attain. VOID is the answer to ANIMA being trapped, but also the only one to know him for who he is and is strangely the reality principle – the deep subconscious knowing that ANIMA will never kill himself nor survive outside the cave without self destruction or cycling into despair- so why not keep him inside? Why not give him a space without any comfort – with only emotional intensity without the flame and then emotional numbness with the flame?]

ANIMA: Are you…real?

[ANIMA slowly lifts his hand up to touch the face of VOID. He touches VOID’s face. VOID shudders, avoiding eye contact- clutching the puppets tightly between his thighs.]

ANIMA: …You feel me?

[VOID’s breath quickens. He won’t look up.]

ANIMA: Please… touch me.

[Silence. VOID whimpers.]

ANIMA: (pressing, pointedly- slowly) Please, I need you to look at me.

[VOID avoids eye contact and his eyes dart around as ANIMA’s face keeps trailing behind…finally ANIMA moves his hand behind the back of VOID’s neck - stopping the movement of VOID’s head as he is directly face to face with VOID. With gravity, ANIMA says]

ANIMA: Look. At. Me.

[after a few panic stricken breaths, VOID looks at ANIMA as his pupils dilate in unprocessed horror]

ANIMA: You…hear me…you understand me…thank you…

[VOID breaks eye-contact as his head looks at the floor in shame]

 

ANIMA: Please, speak to me...

 

[VOID begins to sob...he begins quaking - still hiding the puppets between his thighs and his arms now begin to shake]

 

ANIMA: You’re- crying…

[VOID desperately is trying to stop sobbing – he's deeply shameful about something]

 

[ANIMA still with a hand on the back of VOID’s head moves his hand gently around to wipe VOID’s tear with his thumb]

ANIMA: It’s okay- y-you can wipe your tears. With your hands - like - like this.

 

[ANIMA mimes out wiping his tears with his face and hand]

 

VOID: Nghhh...(begins sobbing more)

 

ANIMA: W-what’s wrong?

 

VOID: Nggghhhh (he shakes his head)

 

ANIMA: Take your time.

 

[VOID heaves forward – trying to utter a sound but nothing comes out – his body slightly twitching]

 

[ANIMA stares at VOID, detached; feeling the sickness of each heave buried deep within him, hearing VOID out]

[VOID stops suddenly as though this was a controlled moment – perhaps him trying to speak…after a moment only silence fills the room and VOID uncertain, unsure stares back at ANIMA] 

[ANIMA slowly kneels until at the level of VOID’s face]

 

ANIMA: Your face – it's snotty and swolen. 

 

[ANIMA gently guides VOID’s chin up to look at him (from being tucked in) there is a slight reluctance and shock at first from the physical contact…

[Anima slowly lifts up the cloth of his toga to caringly wipe VOID’s face]

[within these strokes, ANIMA knows only the brute intensity of VOID - that he is meaningful and has only the instinct to protect]

[As ANIMA wipes VOID’s face with two slow strokes while looking down, he notices the arms of VOID still nestled inside his legs…he pauses mid-motion- something is wrong

BEAT

…slowly ANIMA pans his head to look at the campfire–the chains…and then his head is back to centre – he is no longer looking at VOID but ahead and behind of VOID-

The wiping resumes- in the returning dejected, catatonic motions ANIMA is used to, he wipes VOID’s face several more times before he stops and reclines back on his knees to look at VOID in the eyes]

[VOID, looks into ANIMA’s eyes profoundly, so confused at this part of his nature]

[ANIMA still stares overhead of VOID for a few moments, and then his eyes snap down to VOID’s hands for a few more moments]

ANIMA: Show me your hands.

[BEAT]

[VOID, in some reluctance eventually complies softly…parting his thigh and raising his hands. ANIMA sees the puppets and sits with that for a few moments…his head then, passively turns toward the fire]

ANIMA: Turn the light on…

[VOID, inside a BEAT, with the gravitas of shame, trying to concentrate, sparks the flame and the throws it atop the fire. The fire is lit]

[ANIMA stares directly into the fire, his head still turned toward it. After a few moments:]

ANIMA: My life... it's been trying to convince anyone that I’m real. That I hurt. That I want out— of this cave, or this body, or this life. 

(The fire crackles. He speaks almost to it.)

The fire softens things.

It drowns the noise, like sinking underwater.

When I turned around, I didn't know why I did it. I’d only ever looked forward and around. Toward them… TELEO and CYNICUS. Toward the cave’s exit. 

[bitter chuckle[

what if this was all a projection from a direction of VOID – from behind? I broke from my three walls to look at the forth.

[Beat.] Everything is so still. How do I not implode? 

[Pause.] 

I want to tear myself apart…but- they’re. Still…chained.

[Stillness. Heat. Fire. Chains clink as TELEO and CYNICUS twitch in their paralysis. ANIMA walks to their shackles, begins fondling the links.]

[BEAT: suddenly, VOID shoves him away—feral]

VOID: They need the cycle...

[ANIMA halts.]

ANIMA:

What?

VOID (quiet, raw):

You’re too fragile.

Undo it, and it’ll break again.

ANIMA:

Break what?

VOID:

You. Them.

I tried to hold you together. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t kindness.

I was... keeping the open red wound from pouring blood. You cracked. Split.

TELEO. CYNICUS. You.

All clawing to stay alive. I brought you here.

ANIMA (quietly):

I don’t remember.

VOID (turning away):

You’re not meant to.

ANIMA:

I don’t trust you.

VOID:

Good. Don’t…

But if you want to remember—really remember—you’ll have to let them speak.

(VOID picks up the puppets. Holds them like something sacred.)

They’re the only ones who still know what happened.

(He hands them to ANIMA. Beat. Then:)

Let them be the salt water to fill your open red cavity…your ripped out heart…

Don’t flinch.

(VOID turns and walks toward the cave’s edge and sits beside the audience – possibly making some audience members get up and move)

(ANIMA sits by the fire, puppets in hand.)

(The shadows flicker to life.)

[namegoeshereagain]

the words keep hemorrhaging // Script Writing Update

this is the stage directions between all the production notes and the start of the prologue's first character lines -- it just rlly captures the essence of what the audience should feel and how, etc -- setting the tone for the play.

--

PROLOGUE

[The audience walked into a dark room without lighting. It is warm from a freshly gone out fire. A smell of incense of freshly burned wood falls from the air.

TECH CUE: ROOM IS HEATED TO 28 TO INDUCE SWEAT

The audience's first instinct will be to look for an anchor: a seat, an usher, a spotlight, a stage line – anything that is familiar to off-load decision making. The audience remains clustered in the entry corner. They resemble thinkers, but behave like livestock - left to fester in their supposed conscious independence.

They might try to make out if there are seats to sit on and also the environment around them, yet this attention will come in and out of focus as they are forced to step aside as other people are ushered in (they are not in control).

The environment around them is indistinguishable from monotone shades of bold blacks and dark greys. Through that, the bare approximation of what looks to be three stagnant, lifeless, humanoid forms is apparent; then another - ANIMA - rocks his head just subtly, breathing a little deeper than the others with his abdomen pulling in and pushing out further than the others.

The audience’s eyes may superficially furrow and try to discern further details of the disorienting environment around them, but in the background of their mind, a restless flux in attention is everpresent – the insecurities of what they are supposed to do, whether they should move around - whether it will interfere with the performance - whether these thoughts are fine to even have…

As those insecurities build, ANIMA begins mumbling a mantra in his dark words periodically, rhythmically – “Die…Stop…Fuck you…Just stop…end”. These lines are uttered a minimum of 30 seconds after all audience members have entered the a room -ANIMA should feel this sense of insecurity and restlessness of the audience and choose the optimal time to begin this muttering.

Any audience member bickering between one another - any facial twitches of smiles exchanged for levity will be quelled as they are forced to directly listen in on the hyperbole of their insecurities, embodied through ANIMA.

“Am I supposed to be standing here…what do I do…what’s going on…is this right?” the audience might desperately ask internally. Still huddled homogeneously around the entrance like the consciously independent shams they are - they exchange body warmth as a heat of anxiety might pulse through their backs as they resist this discomfort. They won’t be able to verbalise out of etiquette as now an actor is speaking out their oppressive insecurities. They might feel that they’ve stumbled into a scene of wolves eating a deer alive – as though they shouldn’t be there despite the deer’s dying squeals for help.

Some may disperse around the room so they may sit on the jagged rocks or stand. The ground, layered by jagged rocks, will give them discomfort if they choose to sit. Will they move further to sit around, in-between or besides the actors despite the tight space begging for it.

They will wait for strangers surrounding them to be the first to move around or sit, fearing social judgement, rejection or evil eyes if they were the first. This distils an inherent panic - social rejection and amplifies the tension between strangers sitting near one another in a theatrical setting. In close proximity without direction or leading, I want them to see themselves as the herded swine ready for apathetic slaughter.

Out of a rumble of words accelerating, ANIMA rumbles]

[namegoeshereagain]

OMG SO MANY WORDS -- script Progress tracker

✨-- Added a new prelude section to the prologue for the actors/ppl who reads + general stage directions beats are mapped out for the whole prologue, so this is the production notes + prologue + diagram Bc this is all confusing as hell

PRODUCTION NOTES:

CHARACTERS:

TELEO: Chained prisoner to the unshakable pursuit of logic and reason.

ANIMA: Unchained prisoner disillusioned by shadows. Unable to face the fire. He suffers in the space between knowing and refusing.

CYNICUS: Chained prisoner bound to performance: cunning, satire and sophism.

VOID: Unseen puppeteer of TELEO and CYNICUS. The silent firekeeper of illusion.

COSTUME/LOOKS:

TELEO: Blue toga, pristine.

CYNICUS: Red toga, pristine.

VOID: Black toga, intact until the knees where it frays and tears.

ANIMA: His green toga is completely torn—some damage from crawling, some self-inflicted. He is extremely disheveled: his beard long and unkempt, his body covered in self-imposed scrape marks from the jagged cave walls. His presence suggests prolonged suffering, perhaps the collapse of identity itself.

SPATIAL LAYOUT:

SETTING:

Inside a claustrophobic cave. Three gravestone-like blocks stand in a row and hold up the backs of TELEO and CYNICUS. TELEO and CYNICUS are chained to the right and left blocks. The center column bears only a broken chain—ANIMA's former tether. Behind the blocks, a campfire burns. VOID sits at it, using two puppets to cast shadows on the wall directly in front of TELEO and CYNICUS. TELEO and CYNICUS have watched these shadows their whole lives. To them, the puppets are their bodies—their true selves. ANIMA—once chained, now unbound—is disillusioned by the puppetry. Yet he has not turned around. He has not seen who pulls the strings. He has not broken the fourth wall.

STAGING RULES:

ANIMA, free of chains, can only turn in three directions - left, right and center. He does not (yet) break the fourth wall by turning around to face the fire, the puppets, the chains—or VOID (This occurs in Act II.) ANIMA’s inability to face the fire is not physical restraint like with TELEO or CYNICUS, but psychological refusal. The actor must convey the tension of knowing something is behind him but being unable to acknowledge it.

When the fire is lit, TELEO and CYNICUS believe the shadows on the wall are their physical selves. ANIMA watches them, escaping his mind through their ceaseless debate. ANIMA has no puppet to identify himself as.

When the fire is extinguished and TELEO and CYNICUS, they exist inside a void without physical form. During this time, ANIMA may approach or even touch them—but they cannot see or feel him. He remains a blur, unprocessed. They can hear ANIMA but mistake him for a vague presence—meant only to stimulate thought.

MOOD: The fire has freshly gone out; the air is ashy. All characters are aware. Something is bound to happen. For CYNICUS and TELEO, they no longer inhabit physical forms — they exist only as thought. For ANIMA, the dance of shadows is over: no debate, no drama, no warmth. Only silence. Only himself.

PROLOGUE

[The audience enters into a dark stage with no light and there are no seats – they are bemused - they can choose to sit or stand – the stage is small and claustrophobic and the audience will be squashed behind, in between or in front of characters. ANIMA is mindlessly mumbling in the dark words like “Die…Stop…Fuck you…Just stop…end” – when the audience have filled the room – feeling awkward and out of place, ANIMA starts]

[no fire]

ANIMA: (softly, to no one in particular) Where are we?

TELEO: (distant) Huh?

ANIMA: Where are we, TELEO? CYNICUS?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: Where are you?

CYNICUS: (muffled, lazy) Obviously I’m asleep. That’s why I’m talking right now…

[An indignated pause by ANIMA]

ANIMA: (with spite) Have you realized how absurd this all is?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: It’s painful.

TELEO: (bracing) What is?

ANIMA: Life.

TELEO: We know that. But we live to grow, remember?

ANIMA: Live to grow.

TELEO: Yeah...our suffering is necessary to grow in life.

[ANIMA’s breathing slows - there is a pause - the weight of a thousand rocks bears on his breath]

ANIMA: ...what if I don’t want to grow?

[His breathing accelerates as he finds what he deems is strength to speak]

What if I don’t want to live?

[Silence. TELEO feels what ANIMA means, and unsure that logic will satiate ANIMA’s thinking, he presses further anyways, stuttering - unsure]

TELEO: Then l-live. Aware. In spite of it.

[The bareness of that thought sits on ANIMA as it begins to fuel the entanglement of his thinking, as rapidly as CYNICUS speaks]

CYNICUS: Bullshit. ANIMA, let my lusting licks of luster lap your ears in a blanket of sooooooothingnesss…

come closer to me - my voice.

[ANIMA, confused, in a web of worry, disorientation and dissociation gets up - his body almost limp and catatonic – he makes no eye contact with the focal point of his vision – everything is in his peripheral vision – his feet step left, crossing each other – his movement doesn't spare the energy to turn his body to approach intention…when his foot senses warmth, contact, the struggling to drift any further from CYNICUS’ grounded and exposed thigh, he kneels passively - the jagged rocks digging into his kneecaps and his body hunches over and then on the thigh of CYNICUS]

ANIMA: I want to die.

[CYNICUS immediately coats ANIMA’s words, kicking back, almost maternally]

CYNICUS: Hushh…Feel the heat of my breath lulling you to sleep.

ANIMA: (perplexed, dazed, fighting a war of fog) I feel…dead.

CYNICUS: (honest, lucid and frankly) No, you feel like you want awareness to drift away, until you're left gliding weightlessly, free falling deep into slumber…

[ANIMA breathes meditatively. Contemplatively as though finding a trench to hide in from the chaos, he nestles deeper into CYNICUS’ lap and slowly confesses]

ANIMA: I don't want that…I want an end- to this all.

[There is a pause.

CYNICUS: Tell me about i/

TELEO: Stop. He's not entertaining you.

CYNICUS: (snaps) Entertain me? You're being so facetious- (stresses) love.

[A weighted pause like a bullet's hit TELEO. Unease. CYNICUS slowly centers himself]

CYNICUS: (trepidatious and slowly) ANIMA. (proposed in a quick, quirky and carefree way) How do you wanna kill yourself?

(Pause. The air reeks of inauthenticity, of repressed guilt cloaked in silence. This, being felt by ANIMA, causes his eyes open. He stares at the ground, face still on CYNICUS’ lap. His eyes only make out vague shapes – ball-like illusions that scatter the ground)

ANIMA: (in a dissociative state) Lift blunt rock… bash into skull. (He mimes tapping his temple thrice.)

CYNICUS: (mockingly and quickly) What is—rock?

[The mild maternal comfort of CYNICUS’ presence has now completely faded into that of a quick witted satirist. ANIMA notices this confrontational attitude to CYNICUS and tightens up; from being nestled in the dissociative comfort of his peripheral vision, he’s forced to focus his vision on a singular rock. The brute way out. His mind races]

TELEO: You’re making it worse/

CYNICUS: (snapping back to TELEO with no pause) love, what am I making worse?

[ANIMA - waning, forced to focus, detached - knowing that his description is meaningless - forced to take part in that unbearable focus that makes him part of the world again - where his awareness and his thinking are one being perceived by others - and that his need to die is simultaneously screaming - superimposed with his own awareness as he slowly croaks out]

ANIMA: Heavy ball-like objects.

[As soon as ANIMA verbalises this, his vision defocuses- his eyes cross; the only bearable way to leave focus - back inside the mental vacuum in which his logic doesn’t eat him alive as him and his thinking and his awareness are separate]

[CYNICUS is still quite conversational and jovial, quickly responding]

CYNICUS: Ohh…balls…are they big balls? (laughs)

Only kidding – why choose something so painful, deary?

[There is a heavy pause to signify the mismatch of egos/identities/perspectives/tones of either character. In this time, the word “pain” pulses through ANIMA’s mind as naturally as blood does through a bloodstream, beating within his brain. And then stillness. The organ of his mind has been stimulated and produces awareness]

ANIMA:

I feel so much pain, but, how is it to stare at the face of Suffering…lift its hand of hurt up and thrash it against my head?

Would my muscles seize up? Could I keep myself present, aware - awake enough to deal the second, third, forth blow? Could I make my unconsciousness finally be - my end?

[CYNICUS, unphased, conversationally responds]

CYNICUS: Oh - clever -- you want to sleep permanently then, right! Oh my gosh – I do too! But it’s so much yucky bash bash business – that way…isn’t fun…How about…you try it first and if it works, let me know and then - I can try/

TELEO: St/

CYNICUS: (smiling) Loveeee…hush. Why don’t you try it ANIMA?

ANIMA: I don’t have a heart to try…

(CYNICUS tilts his head, grinning, open mouthed)

CYNICUS: (mock surprise) Heart…?

(The weight of the fact that ANIMA is speaking to someone who can’t physically feel him or see him and barely understand him. CYNICUS encroaching on this primal, base territory without any understanding causes ANIMA to suddenly lunge forward, grabbing CYNICUS’ hair, pressing his mouth against CYNICUS’ ear)

ANIMA: It’s somewhere outside this cave…

CYNICUS: (mock shock, voice dripping with sarcasm) Oh no! Not the cave!?

(ANIMA is reminded that CYNICUS and TELEO cannot sense the world around them, nor his physical body. He is reminded of his forced solitude, a sense of tragedy, longing befalls ANIMA. He tries to express what the cave is, besides in terms he thinks CYNICUS can understand)

ANIMA: I’m hollow inside…That cave…you don’t understand?

CYNICUS: (mockingly. sarcastic) Ohhh, of couuurse I do.

ANIMA: (snaps, whispering) You think this is a joke? Just look at my. GAPING. FUCKING. WOUND.

[ANIMA violently drags CYNICUS face all around the cave, forcing him to stare. But CYNICUS’ eyes remain fixed elsewhere, his face blank, impassive]

CYNICUS: (calm, passive, utterly detached) HAHAHAH. You really are - so fucked in the head (chuckles and takes a deep breath and says like how a mom speaks to a baby)

Delusional whispering freak - ANIMA. Lost in his cave. Without a heart. Isolated. Wanting to go die. When’s the story gonna change, ANIMA- when are you just gonna do it.

TELEO: CYNICUS- JUST STOP!

CYNICUS: (detached, smiling, cunningly) Or what?

(Silence. ANIMA, breath coming in ragged gasps, scrambles backward. His hands dig into the sharp rocks beneath him. He lifts himself up. In almost a whisper, he says)

ANIMA: Die. Just die. Both of you.

(ANIMA moves toward the entrance of the cave)

(And then—)

(A flicker of light.)

(VOID starts the fire.)

(ANIMA stops moving. He stares upwards.)

(Silence.)

[low tone drone]

(Fire starts behind the three. Projected on the wall in front of them, now filling the sight of each of their blank gazes, are two shadows - what TELEO and CYNICUS identify is themselves)

[namegoeshereagain]

WIP on the script update (MORE WORDS, YAYY💀💀💀)

I went through the prologue again and for about half of it, I've added stage directions/insights into the character's minds. The half of the prologue is at the bottom👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻CLICK LINKS IN DESCRIPTION, LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE, CLICK THE BELL NOTIFICATION ICON😱😱😱this is a really rough uh like uhm sketchy sketch of it so far. I'm actually enjoying fleshing this all out. It feels like f00kin I'm making this already like 8dimensional metalayered peace 16th dimensional and third eye opening. No, but its like I'm focusing on pacing, actual character emotions, triggers/what sets them off, their insecurities

😳😳😳😳😳

-

SETTING: Inside a cave, three rocks in a row erect high to seemingly uphold it. Chained to the right and left one with rope are two characters - TELEO and CYNICUS. The one in the middle has a broken chain encircling it. Behind the sandstone columns is a campfire that VOID uses in combination with two puppets to project the puppets on the wall. To TELEO and CYNICUS, having watched these puppets for their lives, they believe it is them while ANIMA - the dispossessed of chains - is disillusioned with it.

COSTUME: Each character wears a toga. CYNICUS’ toga is red and pristine. TELEO's toga is blue and pristine. VOID's toga is black and is in good conditions up to it's knees where it is torn. ANIMA’s toga all over is ripped and torn, self inflicted and somewhat from nature – he's possibly been crawling.

LOOKS: ANIMA is extremely deshevelled with a long and scruffy beard and he has scrape marks all over his body mainly on his forearms and forehead – self inflicted with the jagged ends of the rocks on the walls and floor.

PROLOGUE

[The audience enters into a dark stage with no light and there are no seats – they are bemused - they can choose to sit or stand – the stage is small and claustrophobic and the audience will be squashed behind, in between or in front of characters. ANIMA is mindlessly mumbling in the dark words like “Die…Stop…Fuck you…Just stop…end” – when the audience have filled the room – feeling awkward and out of place, ANIMA starts]

ANIMA: (softly, to no one in particular) Where are we?

TELEO: (distant) Huh?

ANIMA: Where are we, TELEO? CYNICUS?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: Where are you?

CYNICUS: (muffled, lazy) Obviously I’m asleep. That’s why I’m talking right now…

[An indignated pause by ANIMA]

ANIMA: (with spite) Have you realized how absurd this all is?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: It’s painful.

TELEO: (bracing) What is?

ANIMA: Life.

TELEO: We know that. But we live to grow, remember?

ANIMA: Live to grow.

TELEO: Yeah...our suffering is necessary to grow in life.

[ANIMA’s breathing slows - there is a pause - the weight of a thousand rocks bears on his breath]

ANIMA: ...what if I don’t want to grow?

[His breathing accelerates as he finds what he deems is strength to speak]

What if I don’t want to live?

[Silence. TELEO feels what ANIMA means, and unsure that logic will satiate ANIMA’s thinking, he presses further anyways, stuttering - unsure]

TELEO: Then l-live. Aware. In spite of it.

[The bareness of that thought sits on ANIMA as it begins to fuel the entanglement of his thinking, as rapidly as CYNICUS speaks]

CYNICUS: Bullshit. ANIMA, let my lusting licks of luster lap your ears in a blanket of sooooooothingnesss…

come closer to me - my voice.

[ANIMA, confused, in a web of worry, disorientation and dissociation gets up - his body almost limp and catatonic – he makes no eye contact with the focal point of his vision – everything is in his peripheral vision – his feet step left, crossing each other – his movement doesn't spare the energy to turn his body to approach intention…when his foot senses warmth, contact, the struggling to drift any further from CYNICUS’ grounded and exposed thigh, he kneels passively - the jagged rocks digging into his kneecaps and his body hunches over and then on the thigh of CYNICUS]

ANIMA: I want to die.

[CYNICUS immediately coats ANIMA’s words, kicking back, almost maternally]

CYNICUS: Hushh…Feel the heat of my breath lulling you to sleep.

ANIMA: (perplexed, dazed, fighting a war of fog) I feel…dead.

CYNICUS: (honest, lucid and frankly) No, you feel like you want awareness to drift away, until you're left gliding weightlessly, free falling deep into slumber…

[ANIMA breathes meditatively. Contemplatively as though finding a trench to hide in from the chaos, he nestles deeper into CYNICUS’ lap and slowly confesses]

ANIMA: I don't…I want an end- to even that.

[There is a pause.

CYNICUS: Tell me about i/

TELEO: Stop. He's not entertaining you.

CYNICUS: (snaps) Entertain me? You're being so facetious- (stresses) love.

[A weighted pause like a bullet's hit TELEO. Unease. CYNICUS slowly centers himself]

CYNICUS: (trepidatious and slowly) ANIMA. (proposed in a quick, quirky and carefree way) How do you wanna kill yourself?

(Pause. The air reeks of inauthenticity, of repressed guilt cloaked in silence. This, being felt by ANIMA causes his eyes open. He stares at the ground, face still on CYNICUS’ lap. His eyes only make out vague shapes – ball-like illusions that scatter the ground)

ANIMA: (in a dissociative state) Lift blunt rock… bash into skull. (He mimes tapping his temple thrice.)

CYNICUS: (mockingly and quickly) What is—rock?

[The mild maternal comfort of CYNICUS’ presence has now completely faded into that of a quick witted satirist. ANIMA notices this confrontational attitude to CYNICUS and tightens up; from being nestled in the dissociative comfort of his peripheral vision, he’s forced to focus his vision on a singular rock. The brute way out. His mind races]

[namegoeshereagain]

My first zine

#emo

[namegoeshereagain]

(from the samurai excecutioner manga -- based on edo Japan/buddhism/samurai/yeye -- its a sequel to lone wolf and cub; genuinely my fave manga ever -- characters r so well defined, lots of characters speak in almost this satori/haiku way which is poetic and fhilosophikal)

[namegoeshereagain]

The work in progress prologue to this script im writing

Describe the cave?].

(Takes place in Plato's cave basically uh, TELEO and CYNICUS are the prisoners while anima is the one that's like uh not really a prisoner but he hasn't left the cave and tries to convince TELEO and CYNICUS of their unreality (they believe shadow puppets on the wall are them – hope it semi makes sense :p))

ANIMA: (softly, to no one in particular) Where are we?

TELEO: (distant) Huh?

ANIMA: Where are we, TELEO? CYNICUS?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: Where are you?

CYNICUS: (muffled, lazy) Obviously I’m asleep. That’s why I’m talking right now…

[Pause].

ANIMA: Have you realized how absurd this all is?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: It’s painful.

TELEO: (bracing) What is?

ANIMA: Life.

TELEO: We know that. We also know that we live to grow, remember?

ANIMA: Live to grow.

TELEO: Yeah...our suffering is necessary to grow in life.

[Pause].

ANIMA: Live to grow...What if I don’t want to grow? What if I don’t want to live?

CYNICUS: Not this agin/

TELEO: Then live. Aware. In spite of it.

CYNICUS: That’s just bollocks, TELEO. ANIMA, let my lusting licks of luster lap your ears in a blanket of sooooooothingnesss…

come closer to me - my voice.

[ANIMA gets up and sits near CYNICUS. He lays his head on TELEO’s lap- after some time]

ANIMA: I want to die.

CYNICUS: Uh, no…(performative) Feel the heat of my breath pushing you deeper until your awareness stops.

ANIMA: I want death.

CYNICUS: (sharp, nose exhale - fake happy tone) Save your voice. Listen to m/

ANIMA: Death.

(pause)

CYNICUS: Fine. entertain me then...

TELEO: Stop. No one is entertaining you.

CYNICUS: Ohh, why’s that- love?

TELEO: Don’t call me that.

CYNICUS: (smirking) Don’t call you what…Oh, love…(chuckles)

CYNICUS: ANIMA. (serious, suddenly intense) How would you like to kill yourself?

(A pause. ANIMA’s fingers twitch. His breath struggles. His eyes open, staring at the ground, face still on CYNICUS’ lap)

ANIMA: Lift blunt rock… bash into skull. (He mimes tapping his temple thrice.)

CYNICUS: What is—rock?

TELEO: You’re making it worse/

CYNICUS: (mocking) love, what am I making worse?

(Silence)

ANIMA: Heavy ball-like objects.

CYNICUS: Ohh…balls…are they big balls? (laughs)

Only kidding – why choose something so painful, deary?

ANIMA: The absurdity. The first violent thrash of rock against head. Skull cracking open. Cap of head falling off. Blood silhouettes seeping all over me.

(weighted pause)

CYNICUS: You are so fucked in the head. (chuckles) Why don’t you try it. (pointedly)

TELEO: ST/

CYNICUS: Loveeee…hush. Try it ANIMA, hmm?

ANIMA: I’d fucking do it if I had the heart.

(CYNICUS tilts his head, grinning, open mouthed)

CYNICUS: (mock surprise) Heart…?

(ANIMA suddenly lunges forward, grabbing CYNICUS’ hair, pressing his mouth against CYNICUS’ ear.)

ANIMA: It’s somewhere outside the fucking cave…isn’t it?

CYNICUS: (mock shock, voice dripping with sarcasm) Oh no! Not the cave!?

(A single droplet lands on ANIMA’s temple. He doesn’t notice.)

ANIMA: I’m fucking hollow inside. That cave. Don’t you understand?

CYNICUS: (mockingly. sarcastic) Ohhh, of couuurse I do.

(Beat.)

ANIMA: (whispering, strained) You think this is a joke? Just look. Look at my gaping FUCKING wound.

(ANIMA violently drags CYNICUS face all around the cave, forcing him to stare. But CYNICUS’ eyes remain fixed elsewhere, his face blank, impassive.)

CYNICUS: (calm, passive, utterly detached) HAHAHAH. Poor ANIMA. Lost in his cave. Without a heart. Isolated. Wanting to die. When’s the story gonna change, ANIMA- when are you just gonna do it.

TELEO: CYNICUS- you can’t say that!

CYNICUS: Oh, didn’t I just?

(Silence. ANIMA, breath coming in ragged gasps, scrambles backward. His hands dig into the sharp rocks beneath him. He lifts himself up.)

ANIMA: Die. JUST DIE. BOTH OF YOU.

(A deep, slow, cavernous sound rumbles beneath them. A sound like an ocean shifting, distant and unreal.)

ANIMA: I'm leaving….I’m going to save myself. Fuck you both.

(ANIMA moves toward the entrance of the cave)

(And then—)

(A flicker of light.)

(VOID starts the fire.)

(ANIMA stops moving. He stares upwards.)

(Silence.)

(Fire starts behind the three. Projected on the wall in front of them, now filling the sight of each of their blank gazes, are two shadows.)

[namegoeshereagain]

I'm swallowed by the spit of sea.

I guess I'm a regurgitated mess.

Death.