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

[solomonjihad]

[Astarte is instantly at his side, a concerned look on her face. Oh, thank goodness, he's alive...is he injured? Or...]

Are you all right? What happened?

[dontfeedplants]

[He opens his mouth to say something, then buries his face in his hands.]

No, I'm not okay.

[He's unsure if he wants to answer that second question.]

[solomonjihad]

[What would Lilith Sailor Moon Anna Jesus?? er]

Do you...want to talk about it?

[dontfeedplants]

[There's a long pause. He honestly did not want to talk about it, and if he had more energy, he would just rush back to his room and stay there forever.

Eventually, he asks a question that had popped into his head suddenly.]

... Are we stuck in Hell?

[solomonjihad]

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

[dontfeedplants]

[Another long pause.]

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

[solomonjihad]

...

[She attempts an awkward pat on the shoulder.]

What happened?

[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.]

[solomonjihad]

I don't...?

[?????]

No you're not.

[dontfeedplants]

[He shakes his head.]

You don't know what I've done. I should have known from the beginning that something was wrong.

[solomonjihad]

...that's true. I don't know what you did.

That's why...I don't understand what you did wrong.

[dontfeedplants]

[He bites his lip, unsure of where to even start with what he did wrong.]

I was used.

[solomonjihad]

.....

Do...you want to talk about it over tea?

[It might help, right? Tea seems to Solve Problems, like getting Seymore off the floor.]

[dontfeedplants]

Sorry, I don't know if I want anything right now. [Namely to eat or drink. Really the idea of putting anything in his mouth sounds sickening to him right now.] But I guess someplace to sit would be nice?

[solomonjihad]

[Nodding, she quietly offers her hand to pull him up.]

[dontfeedplants]

[After he gets up, he awkwardly looks around.]

Sorry. About everything.

[solomonjihad]

...it's ok?

[Is this something to be sorry about? Being not hungry and upset?]

Let's go to the ki--the di--ballroom.

[dontfeedplants]

[He was more apologizing for the things he hasn't mentioned yet, but to be safe he likes to apologize for anything.]

Anywhere is fine. Just... just not the garden.

[solomonjihad]

That's fine, we don't have to go there.

[Ballroom is easier to get to anyways, no stairs.]

[dontfeedplants]

Thank you. I really can't thank you guys enough.

[For everything.]

[solomonjihad]

[She manages to give him a smile as she leads him to the Ballroom, to a chair. She sits near him, and turns her chair towards him.

If he wants to talk, she's going to try and not judge. Ha.]

[dontfeedplants]

[He sits down and awkwardly rubs his shoulder.]

I'm sorry, I just don't know where to start.

[solomonjihad]

Its all right. You can take your time.

[No judgement zone. None.]

[dontfeedplants]

[He takes a deep sigh.]

I guess I remembered being... killed.

[solomonjihad]

--Killed--

[What?!]

How...?!

[Seymour!! You are a zombie!!]