STABBED THROUGH THE HEART

[nikkernoodle]

[It's late Thursday night, and the school is far darker than normal. The Band Room is now lit by candle light; far dimmer than electricity, but something that Salieri is fairly used to.

He's there now, seated at the piano, a candle resting in a dish on the edge of the lid as he works, plunking out chords and tinkering with melody and harmony, making notes on the paper, going back, trying again.]

Comments

[violentenvies]

[As soon as Discord goes, Salieri chuckles, lifting a hand to take that note off of his face and see just what Discord has in store for him]

[disharmonizes]

[The note is... well, it's not really written, in the usual way. But when is anything Discord does usual?

It's cut out bits and pieces of-- oh those are just straight up words cut from pages in a book, aren't they?

The message is short and simple, though:

Meet me in library 3 AM.

So, there you have that.]

1/2

[violentenvies]

[that has him chuckling a bit, moving to stick the note to the music stand on the piano right next to his music, so he can see it]

Ridiculous. [that is far fonder than he really should allow, but...ah, well. He'll get back to composing, then.]

2/2

[violentenvies]

[Sometime much later, after getting thoroughly distracted with his composing, Discord's note catches his eye again. Salieri starts, realizing that perhaps he HAS gotten a bit too ensconced, looking up to the clock on the wall.

2:55 stares back at him, the hands on the clocks showing him that he's been working for neigh-on three hours straight]

Ah, curse it-- [Salieri's on his feet immediately, reaching out to grab the candle, heedless of the wax he's spilling. He hesitates a moment, looking at his scattered papers, the music left on the stand, the sticky note--before he shakes his head, moving towards the door. He'll come back for them later.

As he moves out the door at an overly-fast walk--ah, but if this is another one of their meetings, he needs to bring the wine of course. Fortunately, though, the Cafeteria and Kitchen are on the way, and he stops by, setting the candle down on the counter as he goes over to where he keeps his stash of alcohol from the vending machine. He gets down on a knee to pull out several bottles, glancing at them until he finds the one he wants: Spring Wine. Salieri pushes to his feet, pulling out the drawer with the corkscrew and grabbing that--leaving the remaining wine out. Surely no one else will come through at this hour--he can put them back later.

Salieri tucks the corkscrew in his pocket so he can reach out and grab the candle from the counter, picking up his pace as he continues his fast walk to the library. When he finally reaches it, he pushes the door open, coming inside. He's not entirely sure he's late to be honest, but better to say so--]

Apologies for being late. I suppose I was more ensconced than I thought--

cw suicide imagery/discussion/etc. starts here

[disharmonizes]

[Discord has been busy, as he told Salieri he would be. He's visited a couple of rooms, gathered the items he thinks he'll need and... well, and then some. It's not like him to overprepare this way, but this isn't something he'll get a do over for.

Not that it's something he can really fail at, if he tries hard enough. It's just not something he thought would even be possible for him, let alone something he'd want to be doing.

...No, want is a strong and extremely incorrect word. There is no wanting involved. There was, in the band room. A lot of wants that he turned away from, consciously has chosen to leave behind. One selfless move to make up for himself.

So, when Salieri enters the library, he'll notice... several odd things, a number of candles illuminating the space enough for him to see it all clearly. A large piece of dark cloth, from the costume room, lying on the ground. The glint of a knife -- a familiar one, Salieri's own -- currently held in Discord's hand.

As Discord himself just has it turned on himself, idly moving it inches away from his chest, squinting down at it with some amount of confusion. Almost looking like he's... trying to figure out angles.]

[violentenvies]

[Of all the things Salieri was expecting to see when he got to the Library, it was not this.
Yes, alright, the plethora of candles he expected, but that's about it. The moment the light glints off the dagger, Salieri feels like his stomach drops, then rolls sickeningly when he sees where it's pointed]

Discord! [snapped, the wine in his hand slipping from his fingers as Salieri lunges forward--somewhere, he's distantly aware of a shattering, of a splash up onto his ankle and calf and pant leg--but he has little time for that as he's reaching out to try and grab that dagger. Discord's got the handle, so his hand goes to the blade unthinkingly. He winces as the sharp edge digs into his palm, slicing it open, but he doesn't loosen his grip, eyes wide and scared.]

What on Earth do you think you're doing?!

[disharmonizes]

[Discord starts, as the glass shatters and suddenly Salieri is right there in front of him and, well, that's what he'd been expecting of course. Just maybe not right at that moment. And he blinks, as suddenly he realizes someone else is holding that dagger.]

Nothing!

[The response is immediate and defensive, although he immediately looks a little guilty.]

I mean, not yet, obviously-- I was just--

You really should let go.

1/2

[violentenvies]

Absolutely not! [snapped, that fear starting to bleed into his voice, mixing with anger] When I gave you this dagger, the purpose of doing so was not so that you could then turn it on yourself!

[violentenvies]

[something seems to dawn on him and he goes, somehow, paler, starting to look horrified]

Is--is this why you told me to meet you? What, were you planning on my finding your body?! [he sounds both outraged and utterly devastated.]

[disharmonizes]

No, I--

[And he winces, because that isn't entirely wrong, exactly, it's... it is. And it isn't. And all of this is messed up, obviously, but...]

Not... exactly...

[violentenvies]

Not exactly? [the dagger is still cutting into his palm and it throbs in pain--he can feel the blood dripping down his wrist and into his sleeve, probably down onto the floor] Then would you care to clarify your intentions for pointing my dagger at your chest?!

[disharmonizes]

I was simply doing a bit of math. Angles and all that, you know. I've never really held one of these before-- certainly not like this, anyway.

[........this is not helping.]

You were taking a bit to get here, I just thought I'd figure a few things out in... advance...?

[violentenvies]

You--figure things out--[what on EARTH is even happening here?! What is Discord even talking about? Salieri needs to--to--

No, what needs to happen first of all is--]

Let go of the dagger, Discord. [his voice is low, furious]

[disharmonizes]

[It's... dawning on him, suddenly. That glint of red in the candlelight. Blood.

...He lets go.]

...You're, ah. Bleeding.

[violentenvies]

[he carefully moves his hand back, then, setting that candle upright on a nearby bookshelf so he can take the handle of that dagger, taking a few steps back from Discord]

Thank you. I hadn't noticed. [his tone is absolutely venomous and accompanied by a glare similar in its intensity. Salieri sucks in a breath, setting the dagger down on a table, turning his back on it and putting himself between Discord and it as he pulls out a handkerchief, wincing with a hiss as he presses the scrap of cloth to the wound to stem the flow]

That is what happens when you grab a knife of some kind by something other than the handle. I thought you would be aware. [there is absolutely a simmering anger in his tone, and boy, if looks could kill, well...Discord wouldn't be dead, but he would certainly be at least out cold on the floor]

Now. Start from the beginning and do please try to explain to me what on Earth you were thinking.

[disharmonizes]

I... am aware. Yes.

[He almost shrinks in on himself slightly, the angry tone hitting a little different right now. Mostly because this time he knows the fuck up is entirely his own. He watches Salieri press the handkerchief to his cut.

And he looks particularly guilty, now.]

You know, I was going to lead into this more... gently? I just-- Well, like I said, you were a little late and I was just... You know how I get impatient.

[Focus, Discord, for once in your life.]

...Which is not the point right now. But this is...

You won't like any part of this, but this is important, I promise.

[violentenvies]

[Salieri doesn't say anything.

He just continues that glare, hand clenching around that handkerchief as he simply folds his arms.

Waiting.]

[disharmonizes]

...I am trying to do a good thing here, you know. Actually accomplish something.

["For once" goes unsaid. It just hangs in the air, heavy.]

I... lied to you. When we got our latest envelopes.

[violentenvies]

[that...is a bit of a surprise. But honestly not that much of one. If it had really been about him being forgotten again...it would've been easier just to show him. But Discord had sent the thing off, hiding it from him. At the time, Salieri hadn't pushed for Discord to tell him; he figured that, at this point, it was best not to know.

Now, however, Salieri's mouth presses into a line at that]

...I thought as much.

[disharmonizes]

I probably should have come up with a better lie. But it was a bit... startling.

[...He snaps his fingers. The photo appears, fluttering down, and Discord grabs it from the air. Still hiding it from Salieri, not wanting him to see it right away. Even now, when this is what it's all about, he can't just...

Discord doesn't want to hurt him this way.]

What's on here... it can't happen.

[violentenvies]

[Salieri's eyes close at that, taking in a steadying breath--in, out, slow--before he opens his eyes again.

He holds out his non-bloodied hand]

Give it here, Discord.

[disharmonizes]

Ah...

[He's hesitant. Not immediately moving to hand it over, waiting probably a moment or two too long. Before he very, very reluctantly holds it out.]

If... you insist.

[violentenvies]

[Salieri reaches out to accept the photo, swallowing hard as he looks down--and his breath catches in his throat as he stares down at--

there they lie, lined up, sallow as ghosts,
eyes closed, quiet, still
the blood that pools around them is a stark contrast to paled skin,
red seeping into the ground underneath them
they're dead, all of them, everyone here that he's ever cared about

There's a horror that fills Salieri's chest, tightening in his throat, and he's going pale with it. The handkerchief falls to the floor as he grasps the photo now with both hands, smearing some blood on the corner]

...oh.

[his voice is very faint]

[disharmonizes]

...Yes. Oh.

[He slumps a little, arms crossed, leaning idly against a bookcase. An excuse to not have to look Salieri in the eye right now.]

I couldn't just show you that. I thought... I might figure out some way out of this. A solution, some way around it, but... [But nothing. It's like the last trial all over again. One life or all. Both were important, both mattered so much, and there was no getting everything they wanted.

There are no good options.

...Just... one slightly less bad one. Minimize it all, if he could.] I... couldn't. If there is some wriggle room, some way to get around the rules of this game, it's not anything I can figure out in time.

[violentenvies]

And so you...decided to stab yourself. With my dagger.

[it's not hard to put two and two together.]

Did you miss the part where Farrah said that a suicide doesn't count unless no one figures out that it was a suicide?