It's Curtains Mods (
stagemanagers) wrote in
itscurtains2020-08-09 11:02 am
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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!]
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.]
[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!]
no subject
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!
no subject
Look, all I heard was raised voices, not specifics. So what exactly did you do that was so out of line?
no subject
...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.']
no subject
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?
no subject
[So she can really only guess what the rest of the bodies look like... not that she wants to see another one.
She can't help but laugh at Santana's unique description, though... and there is a faint flush in her cheeks for her to acknowledge that Christine and Mephisto are like family now.]
Something like that, I guess. I... don't think I ever told him I got it by accident, but he knew I had one. And it turns out even when it's "off," it's not off?
So it turns out I might still be able to hear it talk once in a while and I get headaches and stuff.
[The last bit is said all in a rush, like she might be able to slip it past without Santana hearing.]
no subject
Oh my god why would you put a body storage in your lair that’s so gross.
[ Santana Lopez, expert at knowing when people are cheating on each other before they even know it themselves, does not miss a beat. Her brow furrows; she’s clearly concerned. ]
What’s it saying to you? How much of that red stuff do you have left?
no subject
[She wishes that they could just focus on that instead of something that should just be her problem. She sighs, shaking her head. She should have just kept this quiet.]
Just... stuff. About how stupid I am. How I'm not strong enough for this. That back when we were all sick, I should have...
Never mind.
[Santana saw what she was like and can probably put those pieces together.]
I have a little bit of Red but... I'm saving it for Jeremy. I know you hate him but he doesn't deserve to be brainwashed.
no subject
[ Santana, for better or for worse, was hallucinating her girlfriend from back home when Christine had her breakdown at the party, so she doesn’t exactly know what the SQUIP was suggesting. But she can guess, and it’s horrifying. Sick. Santana sighs. ]
Well it’s wrong. You know that, right? If you were stupid and weak like it said, you probably would’ve died already.
[ at the mention of Jeremy, Santana purses her lips. ]
Look, I don’t hate Jeremy much more than I hate, like, every teen boy on the planet. And yeah, being brainwashed sucks, but that was a choice he made. Not you. If you wanna save the red stuff for him, I get it, and I won’t pester you about it, but I just —
[ Santana pauses, swallows. ]
It would suck if that thing took over. So don’t let it do that on his account.
[ Santana doesn’t want to lose Christine, too — especially since she considers Christine a friend, now. ]
no subject
She winces at the mention of how she would have died, anyways.]
No, that's the thing. It would've probably been fine with that. It... ugh, I can't explain it.
It's just that it's all about what's best for Jeremy. What's going to get him everything he wants... and it's pretty clear he didn't want me as much as he thought he did.
[She rests her hands on the console underneath her, looking down at all the blinking buttons.]
So I don't know. I want to save the Red, obviously, because as stupid as he's being, he's my friend and I care about him, and I want him to be safe and maybe have a chance to talk to me? Without making me talk to his creepy robot friend and leaving me to kiss his stupid robot face? But like, my SQUIP wants that too, because then I'm not shutting her up, plus, in a weird way, I would be 'subservient' to Jeremy or whatever if I gave up something like that for him...
[Ugh, it's so unfair. Why does her SQUIP have to be such a mysogynist while wearing the face of a feminist icon?]
no subject
That’s — I’m not gonna lie, that’s super fucked up. But if you wanna save the Red, then do it because that’s your choice. You’re all about being yourself, right? If anyone’s strong enough to tell that squat to shut up, it’s you. Sounds like you know what you want.
[ a pause. ]
And that’s — that’s pretty cool of you. But also, like, if you never spoke to Jeremy again after this, or you decided you wanted to beat the crap outta him, that would also be cool too.
no subject
[She almost stumbled over the swear, but manages to soldier through at the last moment. Her fingers tap absent-mindedly on the console, and her eyes are stuck on the little display where it's supposed to show the audio levels of the microphone, as if hopeful it'll suddenly jump to life, and someone out there will give her the right answers.
Or maybe it'll be Jeremy, telling her he's finally trying to be a better person, and Christine doesn't have to feel so guilty over giving him a dozen second chances.]
I hate him, a little bit. And I love him at the same time. I hate what he's done, but I love what he can be. And that sounds... so, so cliche, like I know I must sound like every girl who's ever looked at a bad boy and said they could "fix him." Or like I'm still reading fairytales, and I think if I save the Red for him, I'm being some hero somehow.
[One hand goes up to her temple and she sighs.]
I want to punch him so hard, but he probably wants me to, and I want to tell him I'm done with him, but he probably wants that just as much. And all I've ever wanted is just to have him, as the first friend I'd ever made for myself, and he can't even give me that.