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

[heathencall]

[Mephisto doesn't leave his room much on Thursday. Call it a hangover. Call it nursing his wounds.

He does come at the knock on his door, though. He opens it warily, squinting into the bright light of the hall compared the single candle he has burning by his bedside.]

Yes?

[37773972]

[Hey, Meph, enjoy a shirt being more-or-less shoved at you]

Here. It's clean.

[heathencall]

[Mephisto barely puts his hands up in time to grab hold of the shirt. He stares at it for a moment, quiet. His head feels foggier than ever, despite the wine being completely drank the night prior. His body aches.

He doesn't want to deal with this.]

This is what you want, then?

[37773972]

[Yes.] No. [Stephen's too fucking tired to argue with himself over this.] Just- take it. It's yours. [And he's going to go back to bed, now thanks, don't mind him turning around]

[heathencall]

[He thinks it's funny, bitterly so, that the doors don't slam on Stephen when he tries to leave. That it has to be Mephisto's responsibility to clean up the mess again. He'd had a long enough night, hadn't he?

Screw it. He won't say a damn --]

I don't want it.

[37773972]

[Stephen pauses, but he doesn't turn back. He just sort of holds the shirt out behind him]

[It's fine doesn't come out. Neither does, I don't either. Instead;] I said it's clean.

[heathencall]

I don't give a damn if it's clean. [His voice comes out low. Strained.]

We agreed to not leave one another, did we not?

[37773972]

[.....................]

You- [lied. No, Stephen doesn't fully believe that, even if he wanted to. He still doesn't look back at Mephisto- he can't even ask 'what does a shirt have to do with that', because he knows.

He knows he fucked up, and not just coming here. His grip on the shirt tightens.]

...we did.

[heathencall]

I intend -- [His voice catches here, throat tightening around the rest of the word. The lie is cut off.] -- to keep that promise.

[37773972]

[For a long few seconds, all Stephen does is stand there. His head is pounding, he's exhausted, and he just. Wants. To sleep. He doesn't want to talk about this, he doesn't want to think, he doesn't...he doesn't...

He pulls back the arm holding the shirt, bringing it back to his chest. But he does not yet turn around.]

What else did you do, Mephisto? No more secrets.

[heathencall]

[Mephisto makes a face but... This time he doesn't need the sickness to convince him to tell the truth.]

Only what I mentioned yesterday. I wrote letters to the Phantom, asking to join his charade. I promised information, because he has places where even he cannot follow. I sent him the information you, all of you, gave me.

And I moved Jonny's body. I was asked by the Phantom, and I moved it to where it would be most amusing.

That was it. I told the Phantom to do his own dirty work after Sigyn's death. I have not even written him since. I still have the letters, if you want them.

[37773972]

[Right. Information. Stephen almost laughs at the mention of information, because figures. It fucking figures- instead, he rubs his face.]

I don't need them. Just- is that everything? Can you promise me that?

[Not 'will'. 'Can'. He's trusting Mephisto, even though the last time he trusted someone, well...]

[heathencall]

[This would be a great time for a snappy answer back, but... Every time he tries to formulate one, he gets stuck.

Instead: ]

I can.

[His sigh is heavy, borders on the annoyed, but only with his own mind and whatever sickness radiates through him.]

What happened then has no bearing on everything that followed.

[37773972]

Okay.

[And he...leans against the wall, shoulders drooping. Dizzy spell? Partly. But at least he's looking back at Mephisto.]

Okay. I believe you.

[Though his gaze does briefly flicker past Mephisto as he says that- but it returns back to the angel a moment later.]

[heathencall]

[Mephisto's shoulders sag, momentarily looking relieved before he thinks better of the display and covers it up. He pushes the door open a little further.]

Do you want to come in?

[37773972]

Yeah. [But he doesn't move at first, instead, making a face at himself, because he really shouldn't, he should go back to laying down again- but Mephisto is familiar. And hasn't he gone to him often enough when upset?

He closes his eyes, breathes out, and then pushes himself off the wall to enter]

...thanks. I'm...sorry for snapping at you, earlier.

[heathencall]

We are all struggling, myself included.

[Mephisto waits for Stephen to cross the threshold, then closes the door behind them. He pauses, thoughtful, then locks it as well. He doesn't bother offering a chair or anything like that, simply makes his way to his bed and pushes himself into a far corner. There's plenty of room for Stephen to join him.

... As long as he doesn't mind the lion skins and other fabrics that are pulled over his bed. He's been rotating between hot and cold lately, so he's grabbed at anything he can.]

[37773972]

[It's something Stephen doesn't hesitate to do. There's still some distance between them, but...it's something close to comfortable. Maybe not quite there, yet, but somewhere.]

At least we know it's not fatal.

[For...whatever that's worth.]

[heathencall]

It isn't about killing us outright. It's pushing us to kill.

[He wants to say it won't work. But his throat tightens around the words, just as it had before. Just like it had the last time they'd fought.]

cw; suicide reference

[37773972]

I know.

[He regards Mephisto seriously]

I'm worried someone might think death is preferable.

[Christine.]

cw; suicide reference

[heathencall]

[His throat tightens. He didn't want to talk about it the night before. He still doesn't. But the ghosts have spoken, and he doesn't have a choice.]

We have to show them that there's another way.

cw; suicide reference

[37773972]

I'm open to ideas. With Christine...we at least know there's something pushing her. [Unless her SQUIP is hallucinated? He's at least aware enough to know he's seeing things, and so have Anne and Santana.] So we have to keep pushing her to ignore it.

[heathencall]

I don't know. Can hardly think clearly myself.

[He isn't seeing chandeliers anymore at least, but that doesn't mean he's not without his own nuisances.]

It's a great way of demoralizing us, I'll give the Phantom that.

[37773972]

[A humorless bark of a laugh.] You've got that right. I'm feeling-you know how I'm feeling.

[The lunatic is in his head, etc.]

[heathencall]

[He does. He's felt it every time he's fallen, and he's fallen so many times today. He's losing his grip, losing his hope, losing everything he'd clawed back since arriving here.]

After a while the current is calling me
Lulling me, waving goodbye
I'm out here alone, oh God, can you save me now?
Sinking my heart turns to stone