OVERTURE

[stagemanagers]

You wake up, and realize you don’t remember how you got here.

This bed is soft and warm, but it’s certainly not yours. And the room is unfamiliar - unless perhaps you’re an actor, seeing as it looks almost exactly like every dressing room in the world. It's not quite large enough to fit the bed and trunk comfortably alongside the vanity, but it what it lacks in open space, it makes up for in coziness. This could be something you’ve seen in a movie, or dreamed about experiencing one day. But whatever the case, you aren’t supposed to be here.

There’s a silver key resting on your vanity, along with a thin program booklet. The cover - where the name of the show would usually be - is blank, but if you flip through it, you’ll find some startlingly familiar information. Maybe a few familiar faces as well…

The hallway outside is narrow and poorly-lit, lined with star-studded doors. But if you make your way past them and out into the lobby, you’ll find something entirely different: an elegant, refined opera house. Crystal chandeliers glitter overhead, and the red carpet is perfect for putting on a show. A large clock on the northern wall marks the time, though with the windows shuttered and locked it's difficult to tell whether it's morning or night. There’s also some framed information pinned up that you might find helpful. If you explore further into the adjoining wings, in fact, you'll see there's an identical copy in every room.

There’s also two sets of double-doors in the lobby: one leading back the way you came, deeper into the Opera House, and one leading out. For the moment, neither of them will open.

It looks like you’re stuck. But hey - at least you aren’t alone.

Comments

A!

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

[He's not alone in being interested in the kitchen, that's for sure. The differences in technology levels isn't lost on D-ne, so from a simple glance in the doorway, it has her attention. At the same time, there's an older man in there...

So many men here, how discomforting.

Valjean's probably not looking to the door. Either way, D-ne bows and announces herself.] Excuse me. If I could join you...?

[breakingbread]

Of course. [He sets down the thing he's holding and beckons her into the room.] Come in, mademoiselle. None of us should be alone here.

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

[The old man's oddly kind... Well, D-ne smiles in return and enters, still keeping a fair bit of distance between them.]

Mademoiselle. I don't need something as fancy as that, sir, but thank you.

[breakingbread]

[It's literally just the polite form of address. To call her anything else would be rude. But there are people from many countries here - she must have different customs. He smiles in return, not making any move towards her.]

Not at all. My name is Jean Valjean. [okay at this point it's almost exhilarating to use his actual name?] What would you prefer I call you?

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

[Look she doesn't know how other countries do their things if he tells her that then you know, you can do your thing, polite address is important dude.]

My name is D-ne. Just that is fine, Valjean-san, so worry not. It is a... It's interesting to meet you in this place.

[god she's trying so hard to be nice and properly polite but jeez]

[breakingbread]

[Sure, whatever, he just chuckles wryly.]

There is not much more to be said of it. We would all rather none of us were here.

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

[...well D-ne just sighs and deflates a little.]

You have certainly hit the nail on the head, Valjean-san.

[breakingbread]

Well. That only means we can all help each other find a way out. [buck up, kid]

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

[hiss noooo one of her character traits is pessimistic!!!] An enlightened way of thinking... I suppose.

[she so far from believes it but]

I just was, ah, exploring, myself. Seeing what this place has to offer...like microwaves. [sup kitchen appliances]

[breakingbread]

Microwaves?

[WELCOME TO THE 1800S AHAHAHAHA]

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

[...uh oh]

You're unfamiliar...?

[breakingbread]

There seem to be quite a few things here I'm unfamiliar with.

[so yep]

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

Oh.

[.....WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS???]

Microwaves heat food, Valjean-san.

[breakingbread]

Oh, it's like an oven?

[don't feel like you have to go into mechanical detail m8 it's fine]

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

[hahahaha you saw my adventures in tf r3 huh it's fine that'd require d-ne to know how mechanical shit works anyway]

Yes, like an oven. A smaller, more instant oven.

[breakingbread]

Really? How can it be more instant?

[If your fire is too hot that's crazy unsafe?]

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

[she didn't expect to spend time teaching an out-of-touch old dude about microwaves but you know what why not]

Let me show you... Let's see. [yo do we have any instant foods around here my dude]

[breakingbread]

[fuck yeah we do]

Thank you for taking the time.

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

[prepare to learn about microwaves with motherfucking hot pockets]

It's far simpler than you'd imagine. [Behold, the spinning heating thing] When this clock reaches zero, that will be ready to eat.

[breakingbread]

[He watches with keen interest. It still makes very little sense to him. The glowing numbers are counting down, so that's obviously time, but...]

How does it know how much heat to use? And...where is the heat coming from?

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

It knows ah, by this. The power button. I...could change it, but, the default, it works well. As for where it comes from, um...

[how do]

It generates it? Itself? I frankly don't know how to explain it beyond that?

[breakingbread]

Ah. I suppose I don't really need to know more than that, do I? As long as it -

[The timer goes off, startling him a little. He hadn't expected it to shriek.]

- as long as it works.

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

Oh, it chimes when it's done. [she says, like five seconds late

(she totally meant to do that, watching him jump is funny)]

Yes, see... [Behold, a totally edible hot pocket.] Food.

[breakingbread]

[That sure is

a substance]

What is it?

[lifegoalsorwifegoals]

A hot pocket. [Steak kind!] Take a bite.