👀 bifrost incident stage play????
youve opened pandoras box my friend. get ready
okay so i had this idea back in 2019 when i first got into the mechs and specifically first heard tbi. im a theater kid and have chronic amv/animatic brain where i visualize things real easy, so when i first listened to this album i was SLAMMED with the realization that, actually, tbi is PERFECT for a stage adaptation
imagine, if you will:
inspector lyf, at his desk side-stage and in front of the curtains. stalking across the stage, talking direct to the audience as he waves the black box, setting the stage and the story ahead and theorizing as to whats going on
the first chords of odins launch speech are heard, and the curtains open wide on the exterior of the train, odin at a podium, and a crowd listening intently
during each of lyfs speaking parts (cold case/person of interest/etc), he walks across the stage and explains things, as the set changes behind him. new characters arrive, spotlights shining as lyf wonders what theyre doing there, if they were the one that sabotaged the train
in the style of kabuki theater, the stagehands are dressed all in black, silently moving the set around the actors, changing things and completely invisible, the audience accustomed to ignoring them at this point
lokis song comes, and the whole time she sings, she is beset by these stagehands, dragging her around like another set piece, harassing her, interacting with her but still invisible to everyone else. sigyn tries to get her attention during her song, tries to pull her into their wedding dance- but the stagehands keep pulling loki into dances of their own, all while sigyn has no idea why her wife wont so much as look at her
losing track, lyf is losing track and the suspects are lined up onstage, singing, taunting as lyf stalks among them, grabbing their arms and faces and demanding answers. as he loses his mind, falling into despair, they turn to him and grab him back, pull him down, yell the only words they have left at him as he despairs.
the live band is dressed in theme, all steampunk-ed up, on a mini stage off opposite lyf with minimal lighting on them, until- expert testimony comes by, lyf bemoans having to go to the imprisoned bandits that annoy him so, as he crosses the stage, only for the lights to rise on the band and guess who theyve been the whole time!
red signal. lyf stands center stage, frozen in place as he chants, summoning that squamous something from beyond the veil, as those stagehands, all-black, all-invisible, shift and change before the audiences eyes, pulling out rainbow scarves, makeup once hidden shining bright and vivid in sudden black light. they dash off the stage as the rip between worlds widens, run amok the audience, slamming through doors and screeching as lyf voice raises higher, higher, until-
intermission
and when the audience comes back, the stage is... wrong
more black light, the set has warped and twisted. rainbow lights shimmer brighter on the backdrop, splashing in pools on the stage and the actors faces. the stagehands run free now, the monsters from behind the veil, the unholy things now attacking the actors directly, tearing them apart as the train falls into chaos
thor confronts the all-mother, transformed; she stands at the top of a podium now, the top of a platform while her costume has expanded around her, grandiose robes melting into a massive, writhing puppet manned by the stagehands, a bright and staring eye projected behind her head, staring at the audience, watching. thor fights off the hands, loses, and finally throws his hammer at the eye- replaced with a bright, white crack as the stars claim them both
loki and sigyn share a final tender moment in the engine room, they get their dance in before sigyn slips the line into her wifes arm. they share a final kiss as the curtains close on them, leaving...
lyf, standing center-stage. bottle in hand, exhausted, terrified. he bids the audience good luck, laughs wryly about the bandits disappearing - at some point, the live band quietly disappeared from their side-stage - and slips behind the curtain
terminus
the radio static fizzes, and as we hear the panic spread across the galaxy, the curtains part for bows. the bell tolls, flashing that bright, staring eye back as all other lights go off, plummeting everyone into dark and stark relief
-
so yeah, ive thought of this a normal amount
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I’m thinking about the angst of the restraints headcanon again. There’s the two with the least physically violent crimes, and they rank relatively low in strength. There’s the child who was violent but had to be really crafty about it; she’s the weakest of all of them. And the most dangerous of the guilty prisoners cannot be restrained.
This makes me so emotional!!! All three are the smallest of their circles. Two of them are extremely ordinary people who have never experienced/expressed physical violence before. One hadn't even fathomed the idea of someone dying until they actually did. And yet, they're subjected to the type of restraints you'd expect to see on someone who is uncontrollably violent. The fact that prisoners who committed very gruesome murders can walk free (including Mikoto) just adds insult to injury. I still couldn't everything into words, but here's a Mahiru-centric drabble featuring the same thoughts. It takes place after T1 closes but before the attacks.
“Where are our rights?”
Fuuta’s shout caused Mahiru to wince. She perched on her bedding, watching the two prisoners she’d invited to her cell. It hadn’t been the fun kind of invitation, though. Back in school, she always wanted to have parties and dates back at her place. Moving to the city, she imagined what it would be like to make university friends and take them back home with her to talk, eat, and have fun.
Sitting in her dim gray cell with Fuuta and Amane, all of them held fast by complex sets of restraints, was not what she’d had in mind.
Amane knelt in the corner. Her arms were crossed, as if pouting, though the opposite was true. A moment ago her eyes had lowered in prayer, but it was difficult to find any peace of mind now. Fuuta snapped and shouted as he paced the length of the cell bars. They were unlocked, but like the others, he didn’t feel like being out in front of everyone. He’d give his uniform a violent jerk every now and then, but it didn’t do any good. Between his strides and growls, he made Mahiru think of those poor wild animals they keep at the circus.
“Take it easy, Fuuta.” She mustered up a smile. “Come rest with us.”
“I can’t believe you two. You’re just gonna sit here and take it? I didn’t do a fucking thing! They’re acting like I’m some big danger to society,” he yanked his arms again, to no avail. “All I did was type some things onto a screen. I’m not gonna go around stabbing anyone or anything. And you, you didn’t hurt anyone either!”
He nodded his head to Mahiru. If her arms weren’t already folded over her chest, she would have hugged herself anyway.
“Well… I did hurt him in the end… I broke his heart badly enough that… I mean, he…”
Fuuta made a disgusted sound. “That’s all stupid romance stuff. I’m saying, you never stabbed him. Never strangled him. Never poisoned his food, or –”
“Oh god, no! How horrible…”
“Exactly! From what we’ve heard, it sounds like Haruka killed someone with his bare hands. I think Muu had a knife or something. Shidou had a whole arsenal of grisly doctor tools. Kotoko has openly talked about how she beat that guy to death. Why are they allowed to walk free while we’re tied down like wild animals?”
Mahiru was glad she hadn’t mentioned the circus.
“And Amane! It’s not like she did anything violent, and here she is!”
“That is not true.”
Both paused as Amane spoke up for the first time.
“Eh?”
“While I disagree with my verdict, the restraints make sense.” The others still stared blankly. As matter-of-fact as always, she continued. “I killed with my own hands. I used the amount of force I was instructed to. Just as the sinner fears the wrath of heaven, I can understand how the godless warden would fear my justice.”
Fuuta’s passion wavered, but Mahiru could feel her heart ache for the girl. “Oh Amane… I had no idea. To be pushed to the point of violence at your age…”
“I am not to be pitied. As I said, I am dangerous, and proud to be. I am doing god’s work. All heroes must be dangerous.”
Fuuta grunted, but said nothing. Mahiru gave her a gentle smile. “It’s not pity. Even if you were dangerous, it’s horrible to restrain someone like you. You’ve already had to brave so much, as the smallest of the bunch.”
She looked between the two. A sad laugh escaped her. “Now that I think of it, I guess we’re all the smallest here, hm? Aside from maybe Muu, we don’t have much height or strength on the others…”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Fuuta cried. “The fuck do they think we’re going to do?” Mahiru was just glad he’d focused on that rather than the fact she’d just called him weak.
Voices raised in conversation down the hallway. Mikoto’s laugh echoed faintly into the cell.
It warmed Mahiru to hear. Things had been so hard on him here. Though it had been frightening to hear him shouting at the restraints til his voice was raw – well, it wasn’t him shouting – it had been a relief when he appeared free and relaxed the following day. He seemed sheepish that he wasn’t able to help the others, having no memory of his escape. Mahiru just kept telling him how happy she was for him.
Fuuta didn’t share in the sentiment. “Meanwhile, Mikoto gets to stroll around free, and he beat the shit out of Es! He could snap and kill any one of us here, and they don’t even give a damn. But ooohhh, god forbid the guy who’s never been violent a day in his life is allowed to use his own two hands!”
The harshness of his voice wasn’t doing his argument many favors. Still, his words were beginning to get through to Mahiru.
She’d worked so hard to be a model citizen. She was supposed to have a perfect life. She could cook, clean, sew, and take care of children. She did herself up every day; she was never a slob or a slut. She was generous to everyone she met. She showered the world around her in love. Wasn’t it unfair that her hands were tied like some common criminal? What was all that effort for – being patient when people upset her, being kind even when she disagreed with someone, all of that – if she was going to end up in the same place as someone who had stabbed another out of sheer malice?
Amane didn’t seem to be whirling with the same doubts. She closed her eyes once more. “It is simply a trial from heaven. We may be small, but all of us have an internal strength that will carry us through the ordeal.”
“I don’t think it’s any sort of religious thing, but you’re right,” Fuuta puffed his chest out. “Trials like this only make people stronger!”
“Do you think so?” Mahiru wasn’t sure if she was asking either of them or just musing to herself. It was a nice thought. This was all part of destiny, something meant to be that would make her stronger in the end.
But she wasn’t so sure she believed in destiny anymore. It hadn’t quite worked out the first time.
“Hell yeah!” Fuuta must have assumed she was in fact asking him. He gave a wide, toothy grin. “It’s not like we can get any weaker, right? The warden better watch out next trial – they’ve got a big storm coming!”
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