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

[garbageface]

[ Santana passes Anne a bottle of white wine. Sorry, she doesn’t have any glasses! ]

Okay, cool, you threatened me. Who’s looking for you?

[likemypicture]

[Anne's not very prim and proper outside of performative politeness, anyway. She takes the bottle, and throws it back like a pro. She's gotta keep some coolness points with Santana at least, now that she's dissolved into this. She has to stop to breathe, though, because her nose is full of snot, and she kind of has to cough, which she at least has the courtesy to do into her sleeve.]

My ex. Henry-- sent his men. I served my purpose, and now he's done with me. He's here for my head. [The burning of the wine as she tries to keep it down helps her feel a little courageous at least. A little more Prussian.]

[garbageface]

God, your ex really does suck. [ Santana puts her hands on her hips and stands up a little straighter. ] Well, if he shows up here, I’ll go all Lima Heights on him. He’s not getting the head of a bitch with style.

[ that’s you, Anne! Unfortunately, after that rousing speech, Santana doubles over into a coughing fit. Once it passes, she does her best to straighten up, and flashes Anne the sharpest grin she can muster, although it’s a little weaker than usual. ]

[likemypicture]

Hah! [ She rubs at her eye with her sleeve. It cheers her, though also worries her—- while she is sure this young woman with a bloody knife just chilling in her dressing room is totally capable of kicking ass— the chance of the two of them, against an entire team of Henry’s men? It’s hopeless, but she grins, even as Santana coughs.]

I suppose that partying was not the cure for our fevers.

[garbageface]

Nah, but it was a good party. All the other ones we’ve had here have been, like, super sad and therefore lame.

[ Santana gives Anne an approving nod. Then, remembering that she’d seen Brittany at Anne’s party: ]</small You know this whole your-ex-is-out-to-kill-you thing could be just a part of the sickness, right?