Christine Canigula (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
madgiganticfeelings) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itscurtains2020-07-25 05:44 pm
madgiganticfeelings) wrote in itscurtains2020-07-25 05:44 pm
Love's no good but it sure beats the hurt
[That was... Christine can only call it the most horrible thing she's seen so far, with that familiar dread that says something worse may come. Four people have died. Four friends Christine had trusted in and relied upon. And four more people she cares about have turned into memories and painful reminders of her failure to do anything meaningful here.
And Christine wallows in that. God, does she wallow. But she also knows that those painful ghosts of the people she loved relied on her to keep getting back up when the world knocked her down. And she has to keep going, if only to honour there memories.
The note she slides under each person's door is very simple, the bright orange gel pen somehow seeming duller in the wake of mourning:]
Food is in the dining hall.
Please come have something, or I'll track you down in an hour and force feed you.
If there's anything at all you need, please come talk to me. We shouldn't have to suffer alone.
-Christine
[There's a few dishes Christine knows how to make: lo mein and beef stew, some simple sandwiches as well. There are almond cookies after the more filling foods are prepared.
Off to the side is a plate with a few dumplings and... what looks like mashed turnips? An odd combination, but they were Angus' favourite.
And Christine is true to her word. If you don't come in an hour, she'll find you. In fact, she makes rounds around the opera house pretty much every hour, checking each room, and... maybe singing softly to herself as she goes.]
O god,
I can't stay, I won't stay for things left unseen
I can't stay, I won't stay, this end has no means
I can't stay, I won't stay, you were just a dream
A sweet sweet dream
You were a dream
But not my dream...
[Speaking of dreams, someone should convince her to go to bed.]
And Christine wallows in that. God, does she wallow. But she also knows that those painful ghosts of the people she loved relied on her to keep getting back up when the world knocked her down. And she has to keep going, if only to honour there memories.
The note she slides under each person's door is very simple, the bright orange gel pen somehow seeming duller in the wake of mourning:]
Food is in the dining hall.
Please come have something, or I'll track you down in an hour and force feed you.
If there's anything at all you need, please come talk to me. We shouldn't have to suffer alone.
-Christine
[There's a few dishes Christine knows how to make: lo mein and beef stew, some simple sandwiches as well. There are almond cookies after the more filling foods are prepared.
Off to the side is a plate with a few dumplings and... what looks like mashed turnips? An odd combination, but they were Angus' favourite.
And Christine is true to her word. If you don't come in an hour, she'll find you. In fact, she makes rounds around the opera house pretty much every hour, checking each room, and... maybe singing softly to herself as she goes.]
O god,
I can't stay, I won't stay for things left unseen
I can't stay, I won't stay, this end has no means
I can't stay, I won't stay, you were just a dream
A sweet sweet dream
You were a dream
But not my dream...
[Speaking of dreams, someone should convince her to go to bed.]
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[She looks at him carefully, seeming to study him, and just sighs, pulling her cloak closer around herself.]
Well, you look about what I'd expect from someone who nearly let the Phantom kill me.
[Yeah, she... she may want to check on everyone, but that doesn't mean she can't be angry.]
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Is that all, then?
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[She shrinks a little, embarrassed that backfired, and takes a step forward.]
So... we can focus on getting past that. Um, together? If you... if you want someone to sit still with you now.
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You know you are allowed to be angry, right?
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[She shrugs a shoulder, dismissive, but there's a guarded aspect to her expression.]
Being angry would mean we'd fight, and maybe grow apart, and resent each other for the things we said. And those feelings would just grow, and end up worse, until... until one of us thought it'd be fine if the other died.
And then this would all happen again. So... better to be good. And say I'm not angry.
Because I'm not.
[She gives Mephisto a bright smile, but there's a clear dissonance between it and the choked nature of her voice.]
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[Maybe it's a little too... presumptuous to outright grab Christine's shoulders, but he does anyway. He holds her as firmly as he'll allow, and while she's free to move her head about, he's doing his best to get her to look him in the eyes.]
Nothing you could do could ever make me want to watch you die. Or find you dead.
[That horrible tightness in his throat is back. The idea of losing Christine as well -- it doesn't sit right.]
Please. Christine. My actions today might have indicated otherwise, but I cannot fathom losing you. Not you too.
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Well... Then that makes two of us. I don't want you to die. Or for anyone to.
But it really doesn't feel like what I want matters much here.
[She doesn't say anything about the possibility of Mephisto losing her. She just tries to ignore the tightness in her throat.]
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[His thumbs circle against her shoulders, trying to provide some amount of comfort. He knows that nothing he could give would make it better. It's the same for whatever she might try to give him.]
You'll give you us something to hold on to
When we think our time is up
You'll give you just the song you want to
Hear when we're out of luck
[Her words. Innocuous at the time -- explaining the value of cheer.]
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She knows he's just trying to give her confidence, but it feels like he's just placing another expectation on her. It's starting to feel suffocating.]
I've been trying to do that. It hasn't helped so far.
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It won't be instant. Perhaps you won't even succeed with everyone. But we all have to keep trying, don't we?
If we give up, he wins.
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And no matter what happens, you will have myself and Stephen here to support you.
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The way you talk, it's like you're my two weird alternate universe dads. Or I guess that you were cast as my dads in a play.
...But thanks. That means a lot from both of you.
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Always playing roles, right?
[Even if he knows better.]
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It doesn't have to be a role you take if you don't want to... I was just teasing.
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Considering where I started, where I came from and everything I am I... cannot help if it was a poor casting choice. That's all.
[He can't help himself. He leans over and ruffles her hair.]
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[She giggles softly, trying to swat his hand away.]
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[But... He's liking these new shoes better.]
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[And she'll prove that to him by leaning against him and wrapping an arm around him again.]
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[He gives her a little squeeze. Just kidding it's a big squeeze.]
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That's more the sign of you being a prankster. And not following my instructions! I've told you to be more careful about that.
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[The most thoughtful of chin taps.]
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You're just... [She shrugs.] We're working on your badness level so it can get back down to a manageable amount!
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[He might have laughed at the thought at one point. Now... he almost wants to believe it.]
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[She hugs his side.] And if you were bad... you wouldn't try to comfort me like this.