It's Curtains Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stagemanagers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itscurtains2020-08-09 11:02 am
stagemanagers) wrote in itscurtains2020-08-09 11:02 am
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
[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.