i_speak_softly | Twenty-fifth Theory [Action]

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Twenty-fifth Theory [Action]

[After putting in an obligatory appearance at the baseball game, Donatello is up to some business of his own.

At a certain point during the afternoon, you may find him wheeling a motorcycle from C6 to House 55.

A bit later, you might catch him dragging forty-gallon garbage cans filled with a strange assortment of objects along the same route.

And sometime after that, you may come upon him near the bridge on this path, surrounded by those same garbage cans. Except that they are up-ended now, their contents strewn across the ground. In the center of the mess a bizarre contraption is taking shape.

Question this strange behavior? Watch in silent bafflement? Or maybe just back away slowly.]

((Please indicate at which point you encounter him!))

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That's exactly correct, yet as I said, I do not know if it the same for everyone else here. Perhaps I was simply one of the lucky ones.

[True. One sample is not an experiment. But -] What about your friends? Or did you go back to a time when they hadn't been here yet?

[He turns away and looks sorrowful.] I went back to the time where I thought they were all dead, where I thought the dream world was destroyed forever.

Oh. I - I'm sorry.

[Turning his back away from Donatello, Frederic seems to be trying to hide his sorrow.] I told you before, didn't I? It's no use crying over those we've lost. Besides, I'm glad to know Polka and Viola are back where they belong. They both deserve all the happiness in the world, especially Polka.

I don't think I understood you, then. [He turns back to his contraption, fits another part onto it.] I do now.

[He sighs a little.] I don't mean to sound as if I'm cold, Donatello. But loss is something I'm use to, especially for someone of my age. I've come to realize that no matter how much someone cries or feels sorry for something, that something or someone will never return. [He turns back to look at Donatello, if briefly for a moment.] I'm truly sorry I'm not the hero or great man you've admired all your life, I'm simply a weak human being.

[Everything in him rebels at the word loss, at the idea that someone he loves could be permanently stolen from him.]

You're not the only one who's told me this, Frederic. It's just something that's taking me a long time to learn. [He looks up from his work.] And anyone who has learned it isn't weak.

[He ponders for a moment, but then realizes he has to tell his story to another friend. He couldn't hide what happened to people close to him anymore.]

I lost my sister Emilia when she was very young, at the age of 14 to be exact. After that my love life became one of complete shambles and then I developed tuberculosis. All of these events have devastated me to my core, especially with my sister. I thought I'd never be happy and through my tuberculosis, I could finally be rid of all the pain. [He slowly sits beside Donatello.] But as time has gone on, I've come to realize that dying and trying so hard to end my suffering isn't what I should be doing. Instead, I should be focusing on helping the living instead of continuing to mourn for the dead or trying to even die myself.

[Don listens respectfully, even though the story is strange to hear. In his world, these things - and Chopin's eventual death - happened over a hundred years ago. They're not news to him.]

Maybe this isn't much of a consolation, but... I don't think happy people can create the way you and I do. Your music is a gift to the world, Frederic. If you had to suffer to create it... at least know that it's brought joy to many people.

[As his own inventions probably never will. Still, he'll pick up a random part from the ground and offer it to you. Add it to the contraption?]

[Frederic smiles a little, a sad smile, but a smile nevertheless. He takes the random part and then looks at a random place it could go to place it there.]

It truly brings my heart such joy to know how much of a gift my music has been to the world. I thought I'd be forgotten as time went on, now I see that isn't the case. Thank you Donatello, for being a dear friend and also someone I can trust.

[He picks up another random part for the contraption and hands it to Donatello, seeing as how the invention is Don's after all.]

Not at all. Your music is listened to in ways you can't even imagine.

[Don takes the part and considers it. Then he takes a screw from an open box of like parts, pulls a screwdriver from his belt, and secures the new piece to an arm of the contraption.]

[Frederic watches him work on the contraption and seems completely fascinated by what he's doing.]

This contraption you're building seems quite interesting, what exactly is it? I'd like to continue helping, but I'm not entirely sure how I can.

I don't know what it is. Sometimes, when I need to think, I just start putting things together. [He smiles and offers you another piece.] Usually no one is interested in joining me.

[Looking at the piece in his hand, he begins to ponder where exactly to put it.]

I'm not exactly all that wise in the terms of inventions or machines, I don't know how much of help I can be. [He continues staring at the piece.] I'm not even certain where I should put this.

People who don't know what they're doing are exactly the people I most want to do this with. An expert would put that piece in the same place I would. I don't get any new ideas from that.

Is that so? Well hmmm... [He places the part on a place where he sees it would work.] Does that seem all right to you?

[Don smiles encouragingly. Fit it on there, Frederic.]

[Frederic fits the part in and looks at the rest of the parts. He's scratching his head in some confusion, trying to figure out what to use next.]

[Don takes a seat on the ground and watches. Inventions are like visible music, and he wants to see what you'll compose.]

[Unfortunately Frederic is too much of a perfectionist and starts looking a little irritated when he can't figure out what exactly he's trying to do with these parts. He just keeps looking them over and over, but nothing seems to be constructing in his mind.]

Edited 2010-09-12 03:37 (UTC)

[Don picks up a piece of rubber tubing and offers it to Frederic.] Use the water.

[Frederic looks at the rubber tubing and looks around for this water Donatello is telling him about.] Water?

[Don gets up, walks the few steps to the river, and snakes one end of the tube into it. The other end he drags up to the contraption, and weaves it around like a climbing vine, leaving the top sticking up above the invention/sculpture. Then he leans over and slurps from the tube like a giant straw, spitting out the water that ends up in his mouth. After he does that, the tube continues to spurt, sprinkling down over the various levels of the contraption. The result is something like a strange post-modern fountain.]

Water.

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Twenty-fifth Theory [Action]

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