week 7

[stagemanagers]

[Seven weeks. Twelve deaths. Five survivors.

When you wake up at the start of the new week nothing in the opera house seems all that different. The Box Office door is still locked tight as it ever was but the box you've been submitting letters to for the past several weeks still appears to be open. The Phantom is still accepting correspondence apparently.

But something within you is different. You remember everything. All the gaps, the missing pieces, entire chunks of time from back home- they're back and neatly fitted where they should be in your heads.

Just like the previous week, there's a distinct lack of contact from the dead after all of their activity before. No moving Tom Jones cutouts, no recording studio mishaps, no mysterious deliveries for Tad Cooper or automatic writing sessions. It's probably fine though.

As the days trickle by you get the looming the end is near.]

[ Sunday Monday Tuesday ]

[ooc: don't forget to submit your final memories, toss in your regain coins and check in for endgame! Reminder, since this is the last week all characters should be at their true canon point memory-wise!]

Comments

MONDAY

[stagemanagers]

[madgiganticfeelings]

[In the early hours of Monday morning, Christine stumbles out of a room. Not her room, mind you, but Room 5, one of the empty rooms. She looks frantic, and is breathing heavily, hands up to her chest.

She can't believe she'd do something like that. She should have gone to Mephisto, she should have asked him for help... She should have done so many other things, but she had insisted on doing this alone.

Shouldn't she be able to do this alone?

Eventually, she kneels down on the floor, still gasping as she tries to bring air to her lungs. She brings her knees up to her chest, before digging around in her cloak. Eventually, she does find what she's looking for, that bottle of outdated soda the Phantom had been kind enough to offer her. She fumbles with the cap for a minute, but... then her motions slow.

She holds the bottle up again, looking at how much is left. She swirls the liquid around dazedly for a while. So little of it left... maybe enough to turn Jeremy's off, but maybe not.

So much has changed since the last time she had this antidote in her hands, but as she thinks of how desperate she was to help someone, no matter the cost to herself... things haven't really changed at all, have they?]

Pathetic.

[She mumbles it to herself a few times, echoing the distorted voice she can almost hear.

She stays seated out in the hallway until she sees everyone leave their rooms, at which point she pulls herself up on her feet and heads through her rounds. She can be found pretty much everywhere during the day, though in the afternoon, she can be found in the recording booth. Every time her finger presses play, Steven's cheerful voice sounds through the speakers, and she sits there, listening quietly. Every time his guitar strums the last note, though, she rewinds back to the beginning, and listens just as intently as she had before.

She had brought books in for her to keep studying, but they sit abandoned next to her.

She does spend a little time reading in the chapel, though. She hasn't spent a lot of time in here, and today, she certainly hasn't lit any candles, but she does let the quiet solitude of the room wash over her a bit.

...One moment, when she doesn't think anyone is nearby, she clasps her hands in front of her, whispering into the darkness.]

I... I'm sorry about this. I know I don't pray very often. My grandma always said it doesn't count unless you pray even when you aren't asking for something, so this is probably pointless anyways, huh?

I don't know who I'm speaking to, but I have to hope it's someone more loving than that. Someone who's... seen how much people here suffered. I've seen too, too many people die, people I loved so much, and-

[Her voice hitches, and she takes a moment to exhale slowly, before forcing herself to press on.]

And I just want to help. If you can... give me a little more strength, so I, so I don't let Stephen down? So I can bring everyone back and get everyone out?

And... and so the Phantom doesn't end up feeling like he has to do something like this ever again. Please. Please, help me... be enough to do that.

[And with that finished, she brings her knees up to her chest and presses her face against them, hidden among the pews for the rest of the evening.]

[likemypicture]

[Anne has been practically living in the chapel the past few days-- she has a lot of people to pray for, and words to have with God. But it's not a surprise Christine might not realize she's there-- she's made herself small in a corner of the back pew, bent over herself completely, silent.

She doesn't mean to eavesdrop on Christine-- but you know, she's here, so. She at least doesn't disturb her, trying to focus instead on her own prayers, her own promises and vows to God, what she intends to do and trade and plee for the option to have two decent men spared. So it's a bit after Christine finishes speaking that she finishes up herself-- and carefully, quietly, slips out of the pew, taking a few steps to where Christine's voice had come from.]

...Christine? [Probably best to speak up before she approaches too closely, forbid they end up with another awful accident on their hands.]

[madgiganticfeelings]

[There's a slight gasp as Christine lifts her head, eyes wide, but the voice she hears is kind, so she at least knows she's not in danger. She still feels guilty, though, at the possibility of Anne overhearing what she had been muttering about.

She tries to play dumb, offering a sideways smile and hastily rubbing at her eyes.]

Hi, Anne. I guess I should have expected you'd be around here. It's a beautiful place...

[likemypicture]

[She's polite about it at least, perching at the end of the pew where Christine is, gazing forward.]

It is, isn't it? I have... a lot to pray for, right now. [She hesitates, only for a brief moment, wondering if she should let Christine know what she heard.]

Your grandma's wrong. It counts.

[madgiganticfeelings]

[That... was not what Christine wanted Anne to say, but it's about what she should have expected. She groans softly, propping her chin back in between her knees.]

So you heard all that, huh? I thought I'd go somewhere no one would overhear me having a breakdown this time, at least, but...

[likemypicture]

Ja, I heard. [Anne reaches over, and gives Christine an awkward little pat.]

I'm sorry, I should have said something, but I was in the middle of my own little chat with God. I believe He's more loving than that, but I would be lying if I didn't say my faith is being tested. And I don't appreciate my faith being tested-- not when we have the von Jülich-Cleves-Berg sisters to thank for making reformation cool! [The last part-- seems to be said rather scathingly away from Christine, and--- Anne's not sassing God like that, is she?

No Way--- she is]

[madgiganticfeelings]

It's... it's fine. It's not a big deal. I wasn't really... saying anything important.

[She sighs heavily and leans back to look up at the ceiling. She giggles a little at Anne's tone, but it's weak.]

I don't know if God is loving or not... I haven't been to church in quite a while. That's... probably shameful of me to say, isn't it?

Room 5

[heathencall]

[There are advantages to not being a sleeper. Being able to roam the halls and check for children sleeping in them is one of them. He anticipates having to retrieve Christine and carry her to her own bed.

At first he doesn't think anything is particularly amiss, save that Christine might have fallen asleep sitting up. But as he draws closer, he can tell that she's awake, and moving around. He's silent as he watches her take the liquid out and -- ]

Christine?

[madgiganticfeelings]

[Christine jumps as Mephisto interrupts her, and she quickly tucks the bottle back away. Not to hide it, exactly... but she needs it safe, and she's shaking too badly right now for that.

She tries to smile, but she knows it won't work. She's too exhausted to even keep up a front, and... she knows she's going to have to bring this up at the meeting anyways.

So after a moment, she just sighs and shakes her head.]

I didn't have time to call for you... I'm sorry.

[heathencall]

[It's hard to miss the glimmer of red in the bottle. As up close and personal as he'd been with Jeremy's own purging, it's not hard for his mind to jump to conclusions. It's another secret, another stone that sends his stomach sinking.

It outright plummets when she speaks.]

I told you to find me. [It seems silly to say, considering the fact that she'd already answered the question. He says it anyway.] Christine, I desperately need you to start listening to me.

[madgiganticfeelings]

[She hadn't even intended to keep this a secret, not the Red. It was hard to find a time to mention it, when it seemed like everything fell apart so soon after her acquiring it.

But there are parts of that story she's not telling. Mephisto will worry himself sick over something that, as far as she can tell, can't really be solved. She doesn't want to be the cause for something like that... though she can tell when he speaks, that she already has.]

I'm sorry, okay? I didn't... I had already made plans to move the body somewhere private when you told me you wanted to come! I thought if you showed up, the Phantom would get mad! I wanted to listen to you, I swear I did, but...

[heathencall]

[He grits his teeth as she speaks. He wants to snap again, but it wouldn't be fair to subject to her. Instead, he breathes out sharply through his nostrils. All the same, when he rests his hands on her shoulders, there's a tight grip there.]

Do you understand how fragile our situation is, Christine? [The words the Phantom had written to him stick heavily in his mind.] We are alive, and will continue to live, by the grace of the Wizard alone. He is unstable -- and that's the Phantom's words, not my own observations. The more we act up, and act alone, the higher the risk that we all die, with no chance to bring back our friends.

We need to work together, think together, if we are going to get through this. We cannot be five bodies working separately, but allies working together in unison.

[His next breath shakes.]

If you continue in this manner, I cannot guarantee our blood won't stain your hands by the end of all of this. Do you understand that?

[madgiganticfeelings]

[She tries to pull away from his firm grip, at first out of surprise and fear, but as he speaks, that fear is only doubled and combined with anger. She glares back at him, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears.]

You think I don't know that we're all in danger? You think I was just doing all this out of stupidity, is that it? Like I didn't see from the way Stephen talked about him?

[She knows how dangerous he is, and knows that she can't trust that the Phantom is giving her all the information she needs. She can't simply put the resurrection of her friends into those hands! She has to save them... and here Mephisto is, accusing her of doing the exact opposite.

She's frozen for a moment before she grits her teeth and slaps Mephisto's hand away, pulling away from the other at the same time.]

If anyone's blood is spilled, it's not going to be yours! Why the hell would I do anything I thought would end with anything but everyone being alive?!

You said I would get us out of here! Don't go back on that belief now!

[garbageface]

[ Santana enters the recording studio while Christine is still listening to Steven, and she keeps her distance for two repetitions of the track. She’s telling herself she’s letting Christine have her moment. That’s partially true, but every so often, Santana will fidget with the ordinary black hair tie that’s keeping her hair pulled back. It probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine.

In the silence before Christine presses play again, Santana speaks up. ]

Hey. Heard you and Medieval Times this morning. Didn’t sound great.

[madgiganticfeelings]

[Christine's finger hovers over the the play button for a moment, but gradually, she drops her hand with a soft sigh. She turns back to Santana and doesn't even bother with a pretend smile this time, just shrugging her shoulders.]

Yeah, well. I might have acted a bit out of line, but he might have overreacted. Things are okay now.

[Maybe. Hopefully. She's not sure if that anger and distrust will linger.]

I'm just a little annoyed. I mean, I was trying to help everyone!

[garbageface]

[ So was Stephen, Santana thinks. But she’s not quite enough of an asshole to say that. ]

Look, all I heard was raised voices, not specifics. So what exactly did you do that was so out of line?

[madgiganticfeelings]

I met with the Phantom to see one of the bodies they moved out of the crypts. Mephisto didn't want me to go alone, but it was too late for me to change plans, so I went by myself.

...And there was some stuff with my SQUIP I wasn't telling him about, I guess? But I didn't know how to tell him.

[All of it is completely understandable for her to do without 'going off on her own' and 'being reckless.']

[garbageface]

[ oh that’s...messed up. ]

Where does he keep the bodies? Have they been there this whole time?

[ At the mention of the SQUIP, Santana frowns. SQUIP stuff is never good. ]

Yeah, I mean, it is hard to go “Hey weird alt universe surrogate father of mine, did you know that I had a computer shoved into my brain against my will.”

[ a pause. then, what Santana is actually worried about: ]

Your squat isn’t acting up, right?

[heathencall]

[Mephisto has a pile of coins waiting for him this morning, so his first task after his usual rounds is to go cash those in at the merchandise booth. Luckily there doesn't seem to be anything too in the batch. Yes, his breath catches a little when he gets a gem, but he makes a point of not getting his hopes up.

(Only later, after writing to the Phantom, will he realize that they'd risen despite his best efforts).

What ends up getting him is the engagement ring that pops out. It's not the usual sentiment that strikes him, but the memory that comes to mind. Stephen, upset over their appearance. Mourning his broken marriage and lost child.

He shakes the memory free and retreats to his room. He's not letting himself be dragged down by memories any longer. He has to be strong now, for both the living and the dead. And if being strong means bedecking his hand with every single ring he's gotten, so be it. His hand glitters rather pleasingly, and he also figures it'll be good for knocking people around with too.

After a moment of thought, he puts on one of the breastplates he received, and the golden slippers he'd gotten. He looks a little more resplendent than usual, bright compared to his usual dark and drab colors.

Clad in this ensemble, he makes his way to the costume shop for something more to wear. He ends up coming away with a decent cloak and a pair of silver boots. It's an almost heroic get-up, or would be if he had a weapon worth a damn.

That's fine, though. He'll manage.

Wheeling a mannequin out of the costume shop, Mephisto settles into the dance studio for some training. Angus had taught "Ariel" to throw a punch, and Mephisto still recalls it well enough. He'd never been much of fighter, but it's probably not too late for him to learn.

Later in the evening, after he's worked himself into a sweat, he'll head into the kitchen. After downing probably too much water, he sets to making dinner. Gluten-free pasta and biscuits, anyone?]

kitchen

[likemypicture]

[Anne enters the kitchen humming to herself, Tad Cooper, wearing a paper crown, ruling regally from her shoulder. She'd been about to make him and herself dinner-- but since Mephisto's already at it, she hops up on the counter near him instead, admiring his outfit.]

Wow-- Look at the bling!

[heathencall]

It's nice, isn't it?

[He seems in better spirits than he has been, at least. Change of colors, change of mood, or something of that ilk.]

Consider it inspiration.

[likemypicture]

It’s so good, ja! The sparkle, it matches you! [Its hard to tell if she’s jesting or not, but Anne’s worn some pretty ridiculous stuff since arriving in the opera house, so she may very well be serious. She grins at him, fussing about opening the wine bottle she’s brought along.]

What has you feeling so fashionable?

[heathencall]

It's the final act, is it not? Where we pull out all of the stops?

[He shrugs and holds out his bedazzled hand.]

It's been awhile since I've indulged in a display of vanity. [Almost two weeks! Though perhaps that was more gluttony than anything else.] If we go down, I want to go down reveling in my favorite sin.

[likemypicture]

[Anne pauses her fumbling with the wine bottle, instantly, her face a mask of pure terror.]

You're right! I've got to find something to wear! [COULDN'T HE HAVE GIVEN HER A WARNING? She waves her hand back at his bedazzled hand.]

There's still glitter upstairs. I could-- hmm. It may be my favorite sin, too.