[CLOSED] When Tower Angels Fall | Dystopian Podcast Series
Sarah Kate for Cara
Early 30s. Disillusioned. Steadfast.
A realist against his dreamer tendencies, Cara was once the love of Sol’s life. Having given up music when the time came, she resents how Sol refuses to do the same, but will never follow through with the argument for the sake of her infant daughter, who almost seems to love Sol more than she does her mother.
Voice type: any pitch, any accent – Irish is preferred, but not mandatory. There should be an edge of strain to her voice; a woman with very little peace or quiet left, Cara’s near constantly on edge but unwilling to let it get the best of her and ruin a good thing.
[hushed, relieved, exhausted]
Well, thank fuck for that. Pigs’ll try anythin’, these days. (humourless laugh) Not like nobody knows they rub dicks with that fuck-off cartel or whatever. God… (deep breath, steadying herself) I’m just glad you’re safe.
[angry, dismissive, almost spiteful]
No, Sol, this – this is real! Poverty line’s bang above the clouds, and we’re still feet stuck in the mud down here, honey! There’s a reason they shut down unnecessaries – there’s no money in music, there never was even before all this shit!
[agitated, scatter-brained, accusatory]
He just… (grimaces) He’s a nightmare at work. Hits on me like I’m some kinda… I dunno, but it don’t exactly feel good when you’re sittin’ in chemicals like a dog out there, Sol. And I – I’d push back, throw the shit in his face if I could, but that ain’t how this goes. I keep my head down, take the money and I don’t look for who gives it, because I got my daughter to feed. Why can’t you?
