week 4

[stagemanagers]

WEEK 4
[Another week has passed in the opera house and things are looking grim as ever. With Gabe and Hime gone, the performers are down to 16 of them.

On Monday, the opera house is still heavily decorated with a few new additions. There are more cottony cobwebs, a few small ghosts hanging from the ceiling made of cheesecloth, even more pumpkins here and there. A few more candy bowls have been set out in places like the dining room and a few others and only a few of them are only filled with candy corn. In the dressing rooms the stars on Gabe and Hime's doors have fallen off, leaving behind a patch of star-shaped wood slightly lighter than the rest of the doors on Hime's and a different star underneath on Gabe's.

Like the previous week, the door on in the second floor lobby is unlocked and a new floor is ready to be explored. Have a good week, everyone.]

.


[Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday]

Comments

[dontfeedplants]

I guess...

[He rubs at his eyes.]

Looking back, I can't help but wonder if I was targeted.

[robitussin]

...Yeah? What do you mean?

ota

[dieformymusic]

[Winslow didn't want any part with the last trial. He was sure he'd be no use anyway. What's the worst thing was Home was dead. A child. Surely a sadistic place this is to kill a child.

This Halloween must be real foreboding too...Winslow remembers more...

Anyway what difference does it make? What choice do you have?

A name familiar to him, to everyone back home: Swan. He's in his gear from what he remembers...something happened to him, maybe this is what made Swan speak with him at all.

A prick of the finger and blood on the contract in his memories. Ink isn't worth anything to me Winslow. Now sign.

He's in the first floor ballroom. The real Winslow has his prosthetics on, but he's chosen to don the cape. Will he ever be himself?

He hammers out his tune from his Faust. You can join and sing if you'd like.

He signs in his memory.

And now we're in business. Together. Forever.]

[aflatouttahell]

[Jez waits, and listens. Then she claps. Surely this isn't an awkward time to see a devil.]

It sounds good, Winslow.

[solomonjihad]

--wh...why would you think that?

[solomonjihad]

[The Nightman...

Maybe she should go into Gabe's room. Something isn't right about this. She looks around, just in case, before trying her luck at opening the door.

Will that even work, though...]

[solomonjihad]

...

Would you like it?

[Offers.]

[solomonjihad]

...what did he do?

[HOOOO BOY???]

[solomonjihad]

...

[Knock knock?]

[dontfeedplants]

[He shifts uncomfortably. Even though he did trust Natalie, he wasn't quite sure how much he felt okay with sharing.]

Well it's not exactly a secret that I like plants. And I don't know how many florists would be okay with...

[As he trails off, he stares at his hands thoughtfully. He doesn't even realize how nonsensical he must sound right now.]

[dontfeedplants]

[Another long pause.]

I don't know how I'm here otherwise.

[onthebusagain]

It won't end, I know. [She's come to accept it, too. ]

So, what's your deal?

paint room

[aflatouttahell]

[THIS PIRATE CANNOT POSSIBLY BE THIS PURE......]

You know, that's exactly what I'd think you'd paint.

[dontfeedplants]

[He swallows hard. He doesn't really want to share what happened to him, but at this point it's only fair to her.]

I was murdered.

["And I'm positive everyone is going to die because of me." is something he's tempted to add, but he worried that he was going to sound like he was trying to one-up Heather'a pain.]

[solomonjihad]

...

[She attempts an awkward pat on the shoulder.]

What happened?

MOTIVE: IF I WERE A RICH MAN

[tellthestory]

[As per usual, the Balladeer makes his announcement on Tuesday morning:]

Meeting at noon. Standing meeting at noon, actually. Do I need to keep announcing this every Tuesday? Is this helpful for you guys?

[You can try answering, but he can't hear you. It's an intercom. And, as per usual, he isn't in the lobby when the meeting time rolls around. It doesn't take long for him to make his entrance: coming down the stairs this time, strumming a cheerful-sounding tune on a little ukulele.]

Money makes the world go around
The world go around
The world go around
Money makes the world go around
It makes the world go 'round.

A mark, a yen, a buck, or a pound
A buck or a pound
A buck or a pound
Is all that makes the world go around,
That clinking clanking sound
Can make the world go 'round.

[Remember those ghostly voices from the walls? They're back in force today, all chanting in unison:]

Money money money money money money
Money money money money money money
Money money money money money money

[Again the Balladeer ignores them, going on and weaving around the rest of the cast. He doesn't seem in the mood to engage with anyone during his performance today; he's just trying to get to the other end of the room.]

If you feel like
Being rich
And you think that a
Murder's no problem
You can get what you wish for right here

If you're smart and
Get away
With your crime then you'll
Have a big payday
And your future will be crystal clear

If you're quick and
Win the week
And -

[Before the door to the east wing, he hesitates. The ghostly voices go on, but he stops playing and sings, for a moment, an entirely different melody.]

If you won the lottery
That's such a petty prize
Just stay the course
Prizes are everywhere, we've just got one life to spare

[He glances up and around, then starts playing again, joining back in with the phantom singers.]

Money makes the world go around
The world go around
The world go around
Money makes the world go around
It makes the world go 'round!

[And then he steps back into the east wing and out of sight. You won't find him anywhere down there even if you follow after him immediately, but he'll be back in the box office in a little bit.]

[sunshineprincess]

[Money? Really? You're bribing people with money?]

What kind of motive is that?

[sunshineprincess]

No... I'm just so glad you're okay. Wait.. you're not okay okay, are you.

[Do you need a hug?]

[sunshineprincess]

I don't even know if I could burn this place down.

[Not that she'd try.] Do you want anything?

[aflatouttahell]

[THAT'S A WEIRD MOTIVE? THAT'S A WEIRD MOTIVE.]

Wait, really? That's it?

[What a terrible filler number as far as murder motives go.]

[dontfeedplants]

[Seymour is not fairing too much better today, but he does make it to the meeting on time.]

I'm sure someone will be tempted by it.

[These motives always seem to tempt someone, anyway.]

[irreprochable]

These motives seem to be getting less complex. Wouldn't anyone who needed money have murdered as part of the wish granting one?

[dechagny]

[Don't think Raoul didn't notice that different melody and verse - it makes him wonder if, perhaps, the Balladeer is offering just a little bit of advice against the game of his managers. Balls to you, good sir. Raoul doesn't need the encouragement not to kill for this, but it's intriguing AND nice to see.]

Money. Well. That's...certainly an offer, but I happen to be quite comfortable at home, thank you.

[He's no Rockefeller, but if he can back an opera house he's got the bucks.]

[sunshineprincess]

True... but this one sounds like it's grasping at straws.

[She knows some people aren't fairing well financially coughSeymourcough, but to kill for money? That... is extreme.]

[dontfeedplants]

[Seymour flinches at the touch and he buries his face in his hands.]

I'm so stupid...

[In his opinion, that summed up everything that happened perfectly.]