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

[madgiganticfeelings]

You do know a thing or two about dumping the bad ones.

She leans against Anne's side with a soft laugh.]

Just so you know, I had one boyfriend I dumped, one rejection, and then... I thought Jeremy was my boyfriend back home but I don't even know what happened there, so you can count him in the exes.

[likemypicture]

Jeremy was a good kid, and a funny dancer, but not good relationship material. You dodged that one. [She gives Christine a gentle squeeze, the simple act filling the ache in her heart that she sometimes gets when she thinks of her home, her family, and the role she might have played with a gaggle of nieces.]

I do. I never married again after Henry, never got caught up in any man's BS again-- and as a result, I outlived all of them. Henry killed 3 of his wives, sent one to die in exile, and would have had the last one's head if she weren't so wise. My step-daughter, Elizabeth, never found the right man-- and she ruled for forty-four years on her own, and she was happy. My sister Amalia never married either, and found joy and independence through it-- my brother once threatened her with a sword, for raising his daughters into Protestants, and she laughed in his face. [The story sounds traumatizing, but the way Anne tells it is more amused, more fond than anything. She gives Christine's hair another fond pet.]

But that's not to scare you away from love, either. There are good and bad, and love can hurt-- but it can also be a powerful force. My sister Sybille loved her husband so, that she wrote him daily when he was captured-- and he loved her as equally fierce, and relinquished his lands to keep her safe. They died within a month of each other.

[madgiganticfeelings]

[Christine is trying not to think about what Anne says about Jeremy too much, and she just manages to bite her tongue on asking if he's at least good friendship material. She thinks she's figured out the answer to that one, even if it hurts a lot.

She focuses on Anne talking about her family, all the wonderful women who managed without love, or who allowed love to make them stronger. She wonders which one she'll be, if she can be one.]

You deserve better than what men have to offer you, it's true. I just hope I can be happy enough however my life turns out.

[If she... still happens to have one, after the end of this horrible game.]

I guess the nice thing about love is that it doesn't just have to be romantic. I mean, I love all of you here with me.