It's Curtains Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stagemanagers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itscurtains2016-11-20 01:45 pm
stagemanagers) wrote in itscurtains2016-11-20 01:45 pm
WEEK 7
[Seven weeks later. Half of your number remains.
Nothing in the opera house seems all that different. The Box Office door has been locked after the death of its occupant, and there's a new copy of the house rules nailed to the front, with the last one circled heavily in black ink. The point has been made; the rest of you had better play your parts.
The crew members still aren't visibly walking the halls, but every so often there's movement in your peripheral vision, or vague half-heard whispers from the shadows. Every so often there's a thud or a snicker from inside the Merchandise Booth, though the stagehand inside will continue handing out prizes to those who earn them.
This may be your last week here. Make the most of it.]
[ooc: don't forget to submit your memories and check into the roll call!]
WEDNESDAY
DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?
What better way to do that than with song? Yes, after a week of pressing buttons at random (thanks for the advice, Billy) Hans has figured out how to use the recording studio. Because it's the last week and every show needs a cast album. In the morning, he'll have put a note in the lobby that says: When you get there, you'll find Hans in the booth, testing the mic with a few lyrics of his own. (Yes, he's wearing the bomber jacket today again. And no gloves.) ]
Without you
The ice thaws
The rain falls
The garden grows
Without you
The seeds root
The flowers bloom
The children play
The stars gleam
The poets dream
The eagles fly
Without you
The earth turns
The sun burns
But I die without you...
[ He sighs. Well, the mic is working, at least. Feel free to come in for a recording session, yeah? ]
no subject
See. Even you have feelings. So stop saying you don't!
no subject
I-I was just testing the microphone, that's all.
[ He's half-tempted to try and scare her off—get rid of her even despite the fact that they're not at each other's throats. But he did extend that invitation to everyone and Anna hasn't been too annoying lately.
Whatever. He can totally handle Anna, he's a Disney villain, dammit!
Hans steps out from the recording booth, giving Anna an acknowledging shrug before sitting down at the machine. Without his gloves and white jacket on he almost looks like a normal dude. You would not believe how long it took to get this thing working. ]
You're here to record, right? Let's focus on that.
[ And not his feelings! Just because he said he'd tone down the lying doesn't mean he's going to open his cold heart to Anna... unless she makes him cry again, I mean anything is possible. ]
no subject
Anna looks down at the equipment.]
Right... So I just sing to this thing?
[She's talking about the microphone. Well, time to sing since she's going to assume he turned the thing on.]
I will be the answer at the end of the line
I will be there for you while you take the time
In the burning of uncertainty I will be your solid ground
I will hold the balance if you can't look down
If it takes my whole life I won't break I won't bend
It'll all be worth it worth it in the end
'Cause I can only tell you what I know
That I need you in my life
When the stars have all gone out
You'll still be burning so bright
no subject
Despite himself, Hans joins in. It's not a song for her, but chances are they'll be dead by the end of the week. Hans doesn't just want to leave a note, either. ]
Cast me gently
Into morning
For the night has been unkind
Take me to a
A place so holy
That I can wash this from my mind
The memory of choosing not to fight
If it takes my whole life
I won't break, I won't bend
It'll all be worth it
Worth it in the end
'Cause I can only tell you what I know
That I needed you in my life
When the stars have all burned out
You'd still be burning so bright
no subject
Into the morning
For the night has been unkind
[That... was a rather strange duet. Anna looks over at Hans, unsure of what just happened. Should she sing another song?]
Uhm... do you want me to keep going? I don't really know what else to sing.
no subject
Actually, could you? [ He turns a few nobs and flicks a few switches. ] I just realized the mic out here wasn't on, so I only got half of the song.
[ Cough. Whose fault was that? ]
Try another one.
no subject
[Oh! She's thought of one. Standing up straighter again, she takes a deep breath.]
All those days watching from the windows
All those years outside looking in
All that time never even knowing
Just how blind I've been
Now I'm here blinking in the starlight
Now I'm here suddenly I see
Standing here it's all so clear
I'm where I'm meant to be
And at last I see the light
And it's like the fog has lifted
And at last I see the light
And it's like the sky is new
And it's warm and real and bright
And the world has somehow shifted
All at once everything looks different
Now that I see him
no subject
All those days, crushing other's daydreams
All those years, living in a blur
All that time, never truly seeing
Things the way they were
He'd been here, shining in the spotlight
He'd been here, suddenly I knew
With him here, it's crystal clear
I'm where I'm meant to go
And at last, I've seen the light
And it's like the fog has lifted
And at last I've seen the light
And it's like the walls were new
And it's warm and real and bright
And the world has somehow shifted
All at once, everything is different
Now that I've seen him
[ Fuck. Don't cry, Hans. Don't. Cry. ]
no subject
[Must. Keep. Pushing. Him.
Anna starts into another song. This one is for you and B, may he rest in peace.]
How does he know you love him
How does he know he's yours?
[She twirls around because she can.]
How does he know that you love him
How do you show him you love him
How does he know that you really, really, truly love him
How does he know that you love him
How do you show him you love him
How does he know that you really, really, truly love him
[She sits now in a spinning chair, kicking her legs so she spins in a circle.]
It's not enough to take the one you love for granted
You must remind him, or he'll be inclined to say
How do I know he loves me
How do I know he's mine
Well do you leave a little note at the booth
To tell him that he's on your mind
Set down red roses at the door every day, hey
You'll find a new way to show him, a little bit everyday
That's how he'll know, that's how he'll know
He's your love
[Anna gets up and dances over to where Hans is with a big smile on her face.]
You've got to show him you miss him
Don't treat him like a mind reader
Each day do something to need him
To believe you miss him
Everybody wants to live happily ever after
Everybody wants to know their true love is true
How does he know you love him
How does he know he's yours
[She runs off and jumps up on the nearest table, pretending she was now dancing with someone.]
Well would you take him out dancin'
Just so you could hold him close
Dedicate a song with words in
Just for him, oh
You'll find your own way to tell him
With the little things you'll do
That's how he'll know
That's how he'll know
You're his love
You're his love
[And as a big finish, she jumps down, throwing her hands in the air with a big relish.]
What do you think? Too cheesy?
no subject
Of course, about halfway into her song, Hans starts crying. Not like, sobbing (not yet) but there's tears streaming down his face and this is cold, Anna. This is so cold. By the time the song is over, Hans has at least managed to keep himself from sobbing, but the shaking breaths in his voice are harder to hide. ]
Definitely. [ What's that? Is that the sound of Hans crying into the mic? Yep. ] Too cheesy.
[ Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You are Prince Hans. You broke this girl's heart. ]
Cut out the bit about true love, you-- you know I hate that.
no subject
She hears the pain in his voice, feeling both triumphant and guilty. Hans, you need this a lot more than you know.]
Right. Did you want to pick a song this time?
no subject
He's also getting fancy with the embroidery functions of the sewing machine, sketching out little shapes and then tracing them over with the stitching. In particular, one motif that at least two of the bags hold is two green snakes wrapped around a red winged staff.
Also after the night before, he's wincing occasionally when he moves his left arm too far.]
no subject
something like an entire box of curled ribbons falling on his head without warning from the shelf above the sewing machines.]
no subject
When the ribbons fall, he screams and raises his arms (pulling his shoulder ofc), and his foot hits the pedal and the fabric surges forward and the seam goes askew and there might be ribbons sewn to it now.
But then there's no follow-up assault and he brushes the ribbons off and looks up at the shelf that they were on.]
Why does everyone else get nice "hauntings" and I just get the assholes?
no subject
But at least when he looks down the fabric has been yoinked from the machine and set aside with a seam ripper delicately set on top of it.]
no subject
We-well, maybe not a total asshole after all.
[Tentatively, he's going to pick up the satchel and start seam-ripping that mistake. Anything else for him, "ghost?"]
no subject
no subject
U-uh... th- thanks.