itscurtains | week 7

Entry tags:

act 2,
week 7

week 7

[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!]

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[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?

[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.

[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.

[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...

[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?

[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!

[Mephisto visibly winces as his hand is slapped away. The pain doesn't matter (stings at his knuckles maybe). More, it's the act of being pushed away from her. Nevertheless, he pushes on. She can hate him for what he says, so long as it means she comes out alive.

He's Mephisto, after all. A demon in his own right. If he has to put the fear of god into her to save them all, he will.]

You don't seem to grasp the gravity of it, no. [He bares his teeth.] You're being reckless. Stupid. And I know you're better than that, Christine.

[He stands at his full height, now, almost menacing over her hunkered down form. It's sure to be a hell of a sight, if anyone comes upon it.]

The Wizard is unstable. If he sees us visibly acting out of line, he. Will. Kill us. That's it.

And so far, the only one I've seen belligerently misbehaving in public view is you.

[Now, though, his voice softens. Call it guilt. Call it mercy.]

You can get us out of here. But you can't do it alone. None of us can.

[It hurts for her too, to push him away. She doesn't want him to hate her, doesn't want him angry with what she has to do. She had her reasons for all of this, though, and Mephisto wasn't even bothering to understand that. He seemed determined to ensure she couldn't do anything alone.

She had thought her real parents were a bit controlling.

She flinches with each insult he hurls at her, her hands curling into fists as she looms over him. Not that she could do anything to him, in this position, but she still feels the urge to lash out regardless.

But she forces herself not to snap at him, her voice level and cold as she raises her head in defiance of him.]

Really? I'm acting out of line? Name one thing I've done that counts as acting out. I saw a body without your express permission, but with the Phantom's. And since he's the only authority here besides the Wizard, I don't really think there's a problem here.

[She just barely manages to bite her tongue against pointing out the belligerence that is involved with yelling at a child.]

Traipsing about with our kidnapper alone, perhaps? Taking everything onto your shoulders?

[His tone verges on the exasperated. He isn't sure why he has to spell this out. He doesn't know what he has to say to make Christine realize that she can't do this all on her own. And even if she did seem to realize it, now he can't even be certain that he can trust her at her word.

Between her and Stephen, and then Riley before them, he's getting a little tired of not being able to trust those he's closest to. Worse, he's getting tired of losing the people he loves.]

I wish he had never given you those letters. [He winces as he thinks of Stephen, of those last moments. Perhaps if he hadn't been so bitter, he could have shouldered this burden instead.] Never enabled to you to act a hero on your lonesome. And I wish I hadn't put those ideas in your head. I don't know how much louder I have to say it, Christine. You --

[He thinks of that night, after Riley's death. When he and Stephen and broken down on one another. He remembers the song they'd sang, their promise to each other.

Stupid Stephen Browning, dragging them all into this.]

We can't do this on our own
We are all we've got to guide us home

I told you it didn't seem like I had another choice.

[She told him, at least, that she didn't feel it was safe to meet the Phantom any way but alone. That said... she doesn't feel like she has a choice but to take on the world alone as well.

And she knows he'll be angry about that, and he'll hate her for it. It makes her bow her head, slightly cowed, and even more so when he mentions Stephen.

This was her duty. She was pulled here at random, sure, but Stephen had shown that she was here in the opera house for a reason. She had to achieve it, or... or what would he possibly think of her? She would have failed him just one more time.

For a long moment, she's silent, curled up small underneath Mephisto's frustration and grief.

And then she sniffles softly, singing through the tears streaking her face.]

Won't somebody come and show me
Who I am today?
'Cause right now I'm so afraid
And I'm stuck inside these prison walls that just won't go away
Who I am today
Is different from last week
And I'm slowly realizing that this life is hard to keep
On my own...

We have to keep believing that there's another choice. There's always another choice. One where we live. One where I'm not damned. One where we're happy.

[It's hard to fathom, given the crippling the despair that's gripped them, day in and day out. But right here, right now, he has to keep believing in another way. One that doesn't involve losing Christine to solitude. One that doesn't involve anymore sacrifice. He's drawing a line in the sand if he has to, no more heroics like Stephen. No more lies.]

Don't despise me
When I speak truth.
Don't be indifferent
I won't let you be damned!

Will I ever reach you
If I open my heart?

You lose, you die
Turning my heart into stone

But this day's ending is the proof of time
Killing all the faith I know
Knowing that faith is all I hold...

[Her voice wavers, though. She wants so badly to finish what Stephen started... but she can feel her resolve faltering just a bit.]

... I'm just scared. And upset. I just don't know what I'm worth anymore. I keep going back and forth between too much and too little, and... I don't know.

[She sighs softly, staring up at the ceiling.]

You're probably going to hate me for saying all this.

As long as you live, as long as I have your light to guide me home, I could never hate you. [Even if she was dead, he'd love her just the same. He's hated many people in his life, but Christine was incomparible to any of them. That's not what she needs to hear right now, though. Let her think that his love is contingent on her life, if it means keeping her alive.

He'll face the consequences of that when they're free.]

No one can blame you for being upset, Christine. What we can blame you for is recklessly putting yourself in harms way when we need you here. We're not nearly as strong without you. None of us are as strong without one another.

[He can't blame her for struggling to understand that. He, the angel who condemned humanity, struggles with the idea of working with them even now. But if he can come to understand that, he has no doubt that Christine can too.]

Didn't we all die once before? Did you hate me, in that timeline?

[It's a bit of a pointed remark, she knows. She just can't imagine that in those last moments, Mephisto felt anger towards her, or anyone else who struggled alone to find the killer.

But maybe he did. Fallen angels are different from lowly humans. There's a lot of things that could make him angry.

So telling him what she had been wanting to accomplish on her own... that's not something she can admit to yet.

She changes topics instead, feeling that maybe something she hadn't wanted to burden him with is at least a lighter load than her very life.]

...You saw the Red I have, right? The Phantom was nice enough to give it to me for "bad days."

[Mephisto flinches visibly. He's tried not to think about that from the moment it came out. Dying in whatever excruciating way, all while Stephen watched. His life meaning nothing compared to answers.

He supposes he understands how Helena felt.

But that's not important.]

There was only one person I could hate in that moment. It was never you.

[He swallows hard, and tries to push it from his memory. Tries to ignore the slight quiver in his hands. He'll focus on what she's saying now and try to move past it.]

I did see it.

[Even if he hadn't wanted to.]

Are you... having bad days like those?

[It's both easier and harder for Christine, to have seen the notes Stephen left about their death. It means she doesn't have to make up horrible ways of dying, but it does mean she can't pretend she wasn't upset and horrified as the noose wrapped around her neck.

It's probably not hard to understand why she's been sleeping outside Mephisto's room, or why she might be having off days.]

Do you still hate... never mind.

[Digging up grief like that isn't a good idea. She just exhales slowly and nods.]

It's deactivated, but I guess that means it's not off for good. Sometimes I can hear her- it, talking to me. Sometimes my head hurts. Sometimes I'm probably just imagining both of those things. I don't really know.

...I don't have enough of it to waste on that anyways.

[Mephisto doesn't have to guess where that line of questioning is going. He's grateful when Christine changes the subject. It's not just because he's afraid to confront his own grief. Moreover, he doesn't yet know how to answer, and hasn't even begun sorting that out yet.

There's even a part of him that the subject turns to her and her own struggles. This is something he can focus on, throw himself into. He lifts a hand and puts it to her forehead, as if that might help him distinguish any squid presences.]

She can't take control anymore, right? Just run her mouth incessantly?

[Not that he likes Christine's head not being her own. It's just one rung lower on the concern tier is all.]

[Christine flinches for a moment, but... no, it's just static, it's nothing dangerous. There's no seizures coming like in her memories. She's fine, if she just stays calm, so she shakes her head.]

She shouldn't be able to do anything really dangerous. I just... I don't know. It's scary.

It makes me worry how much of me is really still me, you know?

Hm.

[Mephisto taps his chin. Her attempts to martyr herself are a little concerning, but he thinks they make sense compared to everything else he's seen of her. She still writes with her gel pens, brings color and vibrancy everywhere she goes.

Even if it's been a little dull of late.]

How about this? I will keep a close eye on you, and if I ever see you not behaving like the Christine I love, I'll warn you.

[There's only so much vibrancy she can bring in such a gloomy atmosphere, when she's lost so much that encouraged her glimmer. That would probably explain her determination to fix this alone too... just in case she could lose yet another thing she loves.

Mephisto is one of those things... and what he's saying, though it worries her, is one of the many reasons she feels so strongly about him. She smiles softly, rubbing at her eyes.]

I appreciate that you're looking out for me... even when I don't know if I want you doing that.

Why don't we make one last promise, then.

[He holds his hand out, pinky extended. There's a small smile on his lips as he does. Genuine.]

Promise we'll look after ourselves first, before worrying about each other. That we'll both come out of this alive together.

[That actually gets a small, but genuine smile from her, and after only a bit of hesitation, she holds out her hand and hooks their pinkies together.]

I'll do my best... but you know worrying is my fatal flaw.

... should probably focus on the being alive part.

[He keeps their pinkies united. Just because he can.]

A little less worrying them. [A pause.] And yes, please. By all means, keep yourself alive.

Just a little... It might go easier for both of us if you don't get more injured. I can't kiss everything better, you know.

[It's a joke, but there's still concern in her gaze, as she looks at their linked pinkies.]

I'll do by best to avoid any further injuries. Just for you.

[He squeezes her pinky again. Another promise for the promise pile.]

week 7

Room 5

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