week 5

[stagemanagers]

[That was...an absolute shitshow. More beloved friends are dead in a mess of a trial that's left Angus half the man he was, Riley in a free fall and the Phantom...somehow still standing despite taking two stabs to the torso.

When you wake on Sunday, you'll find that you've recovered another one of those memories - or had another dream, if you still wanna be in denial about it. The door blocking the stairwell on the second floor has been unsealed. You can now venture up to the third floor! You have so much space now, it's just a shame it's all come at the cost of eight lives.

But despite the tragedy you have made progress! The trip into the Phantom's lair yielded some hints to the past of the Opera House, your house manager's apparently grim hobby and the possibility of an ally outside the Opera House. Who knows what this week will bring?]

Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday


(( Welcome to Week 5! Please remember to submit your AC and your memory regains, as well as your coins! You can also still contact the Phantom. ))

Comments

cw: sickness mention, vague truthing

[heathencall]

[Mephisto is fully confident that whatever the Phantom is threatening, it won't break him. Sure, he feels a little colder than usual, but that's just the Phantom playing games. Whatever fires are keeping the Opera House warm on the back end are just... running a little smaller than usual.

Or maybe he's just feeling off from the frequent possessions yesterday? Not that he's ever going to talk about any of that. Ever. His face still hurts from smiling.

In any case, he starts the day on the highest floor he can reach. He's... kind of curious about the noise and sound coming from the arcade. He doesn't understand most of it, and loses most of the time but... he's pretty interested in this guy's aesthetic, so he keeps at it for awhile.

Something about all of that reminds him that the merchandise booth. is still a thing he should look at. Who knows why! But he does that means there are new things to fetch. Including...

Right. Including that uniform.

After putting most of his new belongings in a pile outside his room (including the portrait of... Well, it's odd, but it kind of looks like Anne? He's sure it's supposed to be her, even if it looks off for some reason) retreats to the costume shop after that. Octokitten is rolling around at Mephisto's feet while he fusses with the uniform shirt, carefully cutting a slit in the back to ease his mangled wing through. The skirt is nowhere in sight, so don't get your hopes up.

It doesn't do much for keeping him warm, though.

That evening, Mephisto settles inside the chapel. He'd started off simply wanting to look for some sort of altar of human sacrifice but... now he's just looking up at the stained glass Angel.]

You were a horrible father, really. And not just to myself. You bargained your favorite's soul away, too.

costume shop

[37773972]

[time to see if there's anything else in here he can get in to easily and


oh.]

That's...

[Riley's.]

[heathencall]

[He looks up at Stephen, then back down at his work.]

It is.

[37773972]

[...well then. He'll...go back to what he was doing, now that it's confirmed. He doesn't need to bring up that he has one - he's pretty sure Mephisto remembers him in a skirt - but after a minute or so of searching the racks, he speaks up again]

She taught me a few moves. Do you think it'd make her smile if we did them by her...?

[HE'S NOT SAYING THEY SHOULD. It's just. A thought.]

[heathencall]

I think I've had enough humiliation for one week, thank you.

[Mephisto's voice comes out sharp, though if Stephen cares to look he's at least vaguely amused. He would do any do anything for Riley.

... But he won't do that.]

[37773972]

[He does look, surprised- but then relaxes a bit.]

Fine. You can watch.

[It'll give him something to laugh at, right?]

[heathencall]

We'll see.

[He grunts and holds the top up, at least... relatively satisfied by the effort. Orange isn't exactly his color, and it's a style that's drastically outside of his usual preference but...

It's worth it for her.]

[37773972]

[If you're gonna wear the top, Mephisto, you need to wear it where she can see it. Now that they know she's still around them...

He slings a couple potential pieces over his shoulder and moves to take a look.]

I don't know if I should be surprised or not that they know our sizes. [Because that sure looks like it'd fit Mephisto's body type.]

[heathencall]

I think that's the least alarming thing we've come across since arriving here.

[He tucks it under his arm for the time being. He'll put it on later.]

How are you feeling? [He nods to Stephen's arms.]

[37773972]

[Honestly, Mephisto isn't wrong. Stephen nods, then glances down at his arms and rotates them at the elbow- only a small grimace suggests discomfort]

Well, if the sickness he mentioned includes infection, I haven't noticed anything yet. They hurt like normal.

[It's more or less an ever-present ache, now, that occasionally fluctuates]

How's your wing?

[heathencall]

I'm not worried about it.

[The honesty syndrome may not have set in yet, but it wouldn't have made a difference. Maybe he can be injured, but he doubts his body can be so manipulated as to become ill.]

The wing is fine. Recovering well, I would imagine.

[37773972]

...do you mind if I take a look at it? Just for my own sake.

[heathencall]

[Mephisto's shrug is vague and noncommittal, but he does turn around and offer Stephen an opening.]

hallway bash

[likemypicture]

Oh! Em! Gee! [She catches him setting up that portrait outside his room-- Oh, and her fur, how long has that been there? She'll tug that on, then does this weird tense-smile face that I can't link you to or make an icon out of because youtube took the bootleg down, but she's trying to mimic her expression in the portrait.]

Do you know what that is?

[heathencall]

[Rip to the boot.

Mephisto looks from Anne to the frame beside her, and then right back.]

A painting?

[He's trying hard not to grin.]

[likemypicture]

[Anne stiffens her shoulder even more, chest held high, trying to make the same expression, holding her breath to be still as a painting--]



[oh god she's out of air she sucks in a huge breath]

It's the picture that made me a Queen, and then made me not a Queen!

[heathencall]

You were a queen?

[Anne breathes out about the same time Mephisto decides he can't keep up the ruse any longer. Hopefully she's distracted enough to not catch the small smile that he lets loose.]

It's a lovely picture. [Still can't shake that weird feeling about it, but -- ] Your King was a fool.

[likemypicture]

[She sees that best friend because Richard's dead. She cracks a smile, then strikes a dramatic pose.]

He-- He said that I tricked him --ha!
Because I-- I didn't look like my pro-file picture!
Too bad I don't agree--

So--- Let's hang it up for everyone to see!
And! You! Can't! Stop! ME!

[heathencall]

[Anne is... infectious, as loathe as Mephisto is to admit it. He joins in after a second of hesitation.]

You're the queen of the castle

[A little louder, with his head tilted upward. So that maybe the Phantom might hear.]

Get out, you dirty rascal

[He lifts up the painting again, turning back the way he came.]

We ought to put it somewhere that will spite the Phantom.

[likemypicture]

[She finds herself laughing, almost too out of breath to echo after him]

Get out! [Her laughter is broken off by a cough or two or three, but after she's regained her breath, she grins, hands on her knees.]

Over the rules!

[heathencall]

[Mephisto quirks a brow. The cough is... concerning. He might not be able to get sick, but Anne --

No, it's fine. It's all in their heads.]

Help me make sure it's straight, then.

[likemypicture]

[It's fine, she probably just choked on her perfect pitch.]

Ja!

It's painted by the famous Hans Holbein, you know. He did Amalia too, but it was never finished.

[heathencall]

Anna. [There's a chiding note in his voice, but it's mostly friendly.]

You know you need to be more specific about these names.

[likemypicture]

[She rolls her eyes.] The younger! Hans Holbein the younger! He went all around the world, painting all of the beautiful girls.[Oh. He's not asking about that one, is he.]

And Amalia of Cleves-- my sister. She was supposed to be the one for Henry.

[heathencall]

But your painting was far too beautiful for him to stop long enough to finish hers?

[That... at least sounds like how Anne's story would go. Or maybe how she would tell it. Either way, he's not exactly waiting for an answer as he shuffles into the main hall and over toward the plaque of rules]