Player: Maisie (she/her)
About: It starts simple enough. Another new play in the Colosseum, hosted by a troupe that’s performed plenty of times. ‘To Sickness’, they call it, before thrusting a leaflet into any hands open enough to take it.
There is a stoic warrior as the lead, always in a cloak and always with a sword; the make-up and lighting make them look far older than the actor portraying them is. The play follows a day in their life. Some walled city, some danger to fight and keep at bay, a brother at home. People clap politely when it ends.
When they perform it the next week, the warrior doesn’t say the same lines anymore. The week after that, a new character appears entirely — a lover, begging the lead not to fight again. For one show, the warrior does nothing but cry, before leaving the stage.
Last night, the warrior received an invitation to a banquet. When it ends with the warrior’s death, the threat at the walls far greater than first thought, the resulting applause is like thunder. And there, splayed on the floor like a corpse: the actor’s face, caught between euphoria and agony.