week 5

[stagemanagers]

WEEK 5
[Five weeks, three trials, seven deaths and thirteen performers left.

Monday the opera house has been cleaned top to bottom of any leftover traces of Halloween. No pumpkins, no cobwebs, no cheesy paper skeletons, not even a hint that there the decorations has been there in the first place. There's a slight chill in the air this week, like someone forgot to shut off the air conditioning on for a bit too long. Luckily there are plenty of sweaters in the costume room should the performers get chilly. Three more doors are lacking in their appropriate stars now but, as with Hime's, Eliza and Darla's doors have different stars stuck tight to them with different names on them.

The door on in the third floor lobby is unlocked and a new floor is ready to be explored. Enjoy your week, everyone.]


[Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday]

[ooc: put in your memories and get in your activity, lovelies, and let's have a stellar week.]

Comments

MONDAY

[stagemanagers]

[inforapenny]

Mornternoon

[First thing in the morning, Billy's going to start exploring the new floor and- is that a Tech Studio? He is definitely going to start in there. The sickly-sweet cherry smell of artificial fog fills the room, as Billy plays with all the equipment to see what works and what doesn't, and what he could potentially take apart to make work in different ways. He might also accidentally discharge some pyrotechnics. Whoops.

He also has his little handheld laser from the week before, which he's upgrading the wiring on (having dissected some of the lights to do so), and he seems to have decked himself out in white welder's gloves and a pair of safety goggles for the task. Safety first!]


Evening

[By evening, Billy's finally pulled himself away from the tech studio long enough to start poking around the rest of the new floor. He spends a little time in the recording studio, fiddling with the dials and checking the sound equipment there, occasionally ducking into the booth to record a test phrase or two just to see what kind of sound comes out. It's not quite as interesting as the other stuff, but it's still something.

With all the sciencing, he doesn't make an appearance in the kitchen until much later in the day, far too late to probably be healthy. At least the ramen he's making isn't just the straight instant kind - turns out you don't go through that much college without learning how to punch up a pot of noodles. His hands are tucked back into the pockets of his hoodie, and the slouch has returned now that he's no longer upstairs experimenting, but his mood seems lighter than it has since last week. Today's been a good day.]

DOOR INVESTIGATION + OTA

[dechagny]

[The morning brings with it the ghost of a burning ache in Raoul's chest and around his neck. He's up early - just after 7am, but still early - and he holds his head as he emerges from his room. He even leans against his own door for a good five minutes to breathe and get his bearings. For all those familiar with it, he wears the posture of a wounded man, but not from any physical wound.

God, he doesn't know what the fuck is going on at home anymore.

Quietly, he makes his way down the hallway, but upon seeing the new fallen stars and remembering what Astarte had found last week, he's got to know. Eliza and Darla's doors...what new stars do they bear?

Later on in the afternoon, Raoul makes his way up to the new fourth floor, curious as to what he'll find. The bar is not a disappointment, and soon he's poured himself a glass of nice red wine to sip slowly as he looks about the room in quiet, sullen contemplation.

Ask him what's up - he might have a song for you.]

Door and Room Investigation/OTA

[solomonjihad]

Morning

[She stood in front of Sailor Moon, sword drawn. Lilith's dust scattered, having been killed by the Neo Night children. The...soldiers...and Sailor Moon...

"I'll purify you!"

...Oh.

..."Starlight Honeymoon Therapy Kiss!"

Oh.

Well. Maybe Seymour's right and this is hell. Though, Astarte herself is...well, she's upset, of course. Something clearly happened. Its distant for her, like watching from within, those final moments as she stared at what she'd known, deep down, to be the killing blow. She was...not being herself. Not really. She was too far gone. The person in control of her body was--

--way angrier.

Astarte accepted this memory and what it meant. If Sailor Moon had to kill her - she'd said it was likely. To save the world, isn't that was a sailor soldier did? She'd do that for these people here in the bunker, of course. They were...her friends. Except Hook.

The other her didn't - doesn't accept that. And that anger pulsing from the other is enough to bring it to the surface. Failed. It failed.

He still existed. He would still exist after this wretched little game was over.

Stabby would be so satisfied just killing everyone in the opera in a rampage at this moment - just out of anger, maybe spite, this was not the plan the plan is being tampered with more than I thought - but then again, it doesn't explain how Astarte is still alive, and it doesn't actually get Stabby anywhere. Killing Astarte or getting her gone at this point would be frustratingly pointless.

The Art Room is thus a place of grotesque violence. As in someone has taken a good dozen canvasses and is just ripping into them like an animal. Throwing red paint, slashing with daubing knives, twisting and snapping the wood frames and thus the canvas into an Escher abomination. Splinters are had on the hands along with paint, but Stabby doesn't care.

Just try and stop him.]



Evening

[...She's not even going to ask why there is an art frame shaped like a pretzel in her room. Nope. Probably not a good idea to work on the quilt tonight when her hands are full of paint for some reason, even after washing them with soap. Which kind of...sucks. She'd wanted to work on it.

She's just going to go and see what these new stars are, since she's decided to check the dead's rooms, shivering as she does so. RIP Petey, may your leg get better. :( She'll also check out their rooms. Even Hook's. Ngh.

She has no problem working with someone on this mystery, if they're up for it. And weren't turned off by Stabby's...whatever Stabby did this morning.]

[sunshineprincess]

[Anna woke up rather happy this morning. The memory she regained made her feel like nothing could go wrong now that she and Elsa were reunited. She still wants to punch Hans even more now because how dare he actually raise his sword to her sister! Only hitch? Kristoff. Kristoff who came back for her because of his true love for Anna. She feels bad, but if Kristoff ever came here... Sorry, she's going with Billy.

She has explored the tech room enough to become enamored with the fog machines. So in her brilliant way of thinking, anyone coming into the ballroom will see the floor covered in fog since she nabbed a few battery powered fog machines. Anna of course just kind of dances around so she can see how the fog moves around her skirt. Anyone one who comes in will be rushed by her and asked to come join her.

After that she can be found in the art room. There's two little dolls in front of her that one definitely looks like this princess, though Anna seems to be concentrating on whatever it is she's making. From the blue yarn, one could guess she's trying to make a doll that looks like Hime.]

[robitussin]

[In the morning, after regaining another memory (which she, as usual, is determined not to think about - this one more than the others), Natalie begins to explore. Even so, the perceptive will notice that there's something different about her. The way she moves is more nervous and flighty, and she seems even more restless than she typically does.

Regardless, she can be found in the Tech Studio, looking thoughtfully at all the equipment. Particularly interesting to her is the equipment that looks as though it could shoot flames. Someone please tell her not to touch it, this can only end in tears. She doesn't stay long in the art or recording studio, but she can be found in the bar. Not drinking anything, mind you, but looking around with a look of mild alarm.]

Oh, this is not going to end well. Something tells me that alcohol and murder reality TV really doesn't mix.

[Later on, she's wandering through the hallways, holding a purple hoodie with a design on the back.]

Does anybody know who this belongs to? I got it from the merchandise booth, but it isn't mine.

For some reason this toplevel is the hardest thing to post for me

[dontfeedplants]

[Looking back, he felt kind of stupid that he ever thought that he only fed Twoey his own blood.

Almost amazingly, the memory he got this week didn't affect him nearly as badly as the previous week, which should be immediately obvious with the fact that he isn't lying on the hallway floor today. This isn't to say that he wasn't affected. The memory of him butchering Orin’s body to feed to his plant haunted him from the moment he woke up.

However, an even more present thought is what Twoey told him when he was feeling apprehensive about killing people.

If you wanna be profound,
If you really gotta justify,
Take a breath and look around,
A lotta folks deserve to die!

He knew Twoey was using him. He knew he was being manipulated in that memory, but that phrase stuck with him all day.

He watched the other actors throughout the day, and he couldn’t help but think back to the trial last Friday. Did anyone actually feel any sense of guilt in letting Hook die like that? Sure, he was a horrible person and it was either them or him, but he couldn’t remember seeing anyone actually feel bad that they were basically killing Hook.

And it was in that that Seymour realized in a looming horror that, even though he knows the end result of all his killings, that he didn’t actually regret letting Orin die, either. After actually seeing what he did to Audrey.

While you will see him exploring the fourth floor, especially the bar (he might try to quietly steal a bottle of wine because he deserves it), you’ll more likely see him today approaching your character. His tone is quiet and thoughtful.]

Do you think there’s anyone who deserves to die?

ota/ cw: injury, blood

[dieformymusic]

Afternoon

[Winslow is endlessly fascinated by this constantly growing opera house. How much is locked away here? Eventually they'll have to find a way out, right? Despite his weariness with death, Winslow finds some positive fun when he runs into the tech studio. All these devices...these toys...perhaps there could be something useful.

Of course, he gets distracted by one of the fog machines, pulling one out and remarking after it. Neat! He could use this for his Faust!]

Evening

[The night didn't come so kind for Winslow. His face ached with a phantom pain. He wasn't even aware of himself wandering about, blindly groping as everything came flooding back.

He was at Death Records. They threw him out. They tried locking him away, but he came back. He thrashed those guards so easily he didn't even realize they were there...he just had to get to the back of the studio and destroy those records.

Destroy Upholstery. That mangling of Faust. He smashed record after record he didn't feel himself doing it.

The security reinforcement came, like a deer in headlights he found himself stumble as he spotted them. His sleeve caught on the record press. His head fell back as it happened: his very own Faust come to press down on him. It was like a car come crushing down on you. Searing hot pain on his face, his throat. He's fleeing the studio...blood dripping down his shirt and pants. A shot is fired as he finally feels himself crumple over and fall into the water to be carried away...

When he comes to he finds himself in the bar. It wasn't this place...was it? It was Swan. It was him. Winslow dragged himself to the piano in the corner to rest and silently weep. He didn't feel like playing...but it brought a small comfort.]

ota

[aflatouttahell]

[In the morning, Jezebel goes to the new floor! Her memory was... well, it wasn't unexpected. Arguing with her father. No real new information, but she did stand up to him! What a nice feeling, in retrospect if not in the moment of the argument itself. She checks out the tech room first, and oh man oh man fog machines! Those things people keep saying are where all the smoke is coming from when they arrive back home! She sort of... sets one up and plays with it for a while. Still in the tech room.

Then it's to the art studio! She did that fun painting with The Pirate King, so now clearly it's time for more painting! Today she is drawing kittens. They are not very good kittens, but she is putting in her best effort.

Later in the day, though, she gets down to business! Or... down to something. She goes into the library and pulls a bunch of romance novels of different types, flipping through them and taking notes. Then, once in a while, she works on a... outline of some kind? She mutters to herself a lot as she goes.]

Okay, so then in act two, she should... hm...

[allicareabout]

[There's not much of a surprise in the fact that there is a fourth floor; what's throwing Billy is exactly how much tech is on it. He quietly notes the bar and the art studio before...returning back downstairs where there's slightly less witchcraft, thank you very much. He can be found in the workshop for the better part of the day, actually, because at least doing things with boards produces results you can see, and damn is he not in the mood to deal with a lack of productivity today.

Otherwise...you know, there's a lot of things that Billy doesn't really do on principle, and drinking is actually one of them. Smoking is fine, it's always been fine, but smoking doesn't cloud his judgment any, it doesn't do things to his head. And besides, welcome to Prohibition – no one actually cares much about that in Chicago, mind you, the alcohol flows freely if you know where to look, but seeing it all laid out in the bar like that... That's the sort of thing that the States have been deprived of for the past four years.

Right now, though, he's fully in the grand territory encompassing the notion of "who actually gives a shit anymore" – he can be found in the bar fairly early on into the evening. He'll pour one out for the ones they've lost, just kind of mulling things over before knocking it back, and it's...surprisingly nice when it burns.

This isn't anywhere approaching being a problem; what might actually be approaching being a problem is when he's still there later into the evening, and while he seems fairly composed (at the very least he's not straight-up disorderly) that isn't going to change the fact that he's a very, very manic drunk. Extraversion is up, inhibitions are down, he's seeming more than a little energetic with no fucking intentions of stopping –

(and he hasn't been quite like this since the pineapple heiress shot up her apartment and also three people, and he says - hah - and he says "who are you going to believe, babe, me or your eyes? and that had been a surprisingly good night, all things considered, it's kind of a wonder he didn't end up kicked in the face or somewhere a bit more sensitive)

- and god, the scotch in here is good tonight.]

TUESDAY

[stagemanagers]

MOTIVE: JOURNEY TO THE PAST

[tellthestory]

[True to his word, the Balladeer doesn't bother with an early-morning announcement today. You're all adults, more or less - you can get yourselves to the lobby in time for the weekly motive announcement if you want to be there. For his part, he's as punctual as ever, accompanying himself on guitar. The phantom voices are silent again today.]

Heart, don't fail us now
Courage, don't desert us
Can we turn back even now?
People always say
You can fix your mistakes
No one ever tells you how

Or how regrets can seem so vast
Could we go and change the past?

Somewhere far behind
You've left people waiting
Years of dreams that were deferred
We can turn back time
You'll have what you wanted
Taking back what you did wrong
You all know the die you'll cast
If you try to change the past

Home, love, family
There was once a time
When you could have had it all
Home, love, family
I will never -

[Creak

The lights in the room flicker, and the Balladeer shuts up abruptly, stepping back towards the wall and gesturing for everyone else to do the same. His eyes are trained upward, at the nearest of the grand chandeliers - it's swaying back and forth, crystals tinkling, even as the others in the room are as still as ever.

There's a moment of silence. The Balladeer breaks it by laughing, a little too loud.]

Ha, wow. Okay. You guys get the idea of this one - I'm gonna go see if I can get someone to do some maintenance on...that. Must be a wiring thing.

Investigation/OTA

[dechagny]

[Raoul wants something to take his mind off of his most recent memory and that motive as fast as possible. So what is he setting out to do today? Why, checking out the workshop first! Specifically, he's collecting screwdrivers, pliers, hammers - whatever he thinks might be able to pry the star off of his door. He also takes the time to check if there are any chemicals in here from which Hook or someone could've procured arsenic from...and promptly nail that shit up with plywood. Can you blame him for worrying?

And later, he will be in the hallway making his attempt to pry the star off of his door! He's getting some context for SOMEthing, dammit!]

drinKING OTA

[trettende]

[ Well, that motive sure was a wash. As much as Hans would love to go back and stop himself from getting involved with Anna and Elsa and Arendelle, his life wouldn't be that much better if he'd stayed in the Southern Isles and waited for his family to send him off somewhere he can't be a nuisance to them. Knowing what he knows now, that his attempt at Arendelle really did end in failure, Hans has but one objective now, really.

Drinking. He's at the bar, it's late enough that hopefully no one will bother him, but his luck never works out that way, does it? After all, it seems you've just walked in. Hans spares you a glance, maybe even a smile if you haven't declared your hate for him. ]

Before you ask, no, I'm not interested in undoing the past. [ He takes another long sip of his wine glass. ] But go ahead and have a seat. What are you having?

Investigations/OTA

[dontfeedplants]

[Well that motive certainly shook him up. For the rest of the day he's going to try his best to distract himself from it.

Although he doesn't find much relief at all when he goes to the merchandise booth. While most of the items are standard inventory, he just stares at a certain gun that pops out of the machine. He can't help but wonder if the universe is giving him a sign.

He's also going to start moving the furniture in his room, both to distract himself from the motive and to hope that he finds some clues about this place.]

Investigation/OTA

[inforapenny]

[Billy's going to start by investigating his dressing room, alone, in the morning. He's going to work up a sweat doing it, too, because he's turned his dressing room lights up as bright as they'll go and taken the sheet off his bed to use to reflect the impossibly bright light up into the camera.

Surprisingly he hasn't dismantled his room yet, but boy is he going to now.

Later on, he's going to hit up the storage room and start shoving duct tape, anything with a spray can, and any tiny thing made out of low-melting point metal that he can find into a rucksack he picked up from the prop room.

Then he's going to go to the prop room, and start dismantling anything that has tiny hoses or valves of any kind, again into the rucksack. And then he's going to go into the tech room and start by emptying the cans of lemon-scented Vow furniture polish into the air (and all over the tables because he might as well make them shiny as fuck before he sciences all over them). There's also a faint hiss from discharge on a small gas tank from which he's stolen the valves and hoses.

Anyone who walks into the lemon-scented hell tech room will find their voice getting mysteriously squeakier, the longer they stay and chat. Poor Billy is a soprano now. Temporarily.]

INVESTIGATION/OTA

[solomonjihad]

[Anyone who finds Astarte in the morning will find her seemingly wander around aimlessly, poking at doors. Not just one door, but every door. Her investigation will eventually lead her to the paint room, for those who wish to join her before that point.

One way or another, time to see what this key does.]

WEDNESDAY

[stagemanagers]

The law walks into a bar

[irreprochable]

[last week, the law man was all about trying to find a key to that mysterious ???? room, but this week he's sitting at the bar, melancholy and slowly nursing a cognac. inspector! day-drinking? absurd.

but it's not just the weight of the deaths, although those linger even despite the cast's attempts to tell him its not his fault. no, there's a memory. another memory without context.

but the context here makes it make more sense. so he sings, because, of course he does, quiet and to his cognac.]

And must I now begin to doubt,
Who never doubted all these years?
My heart is stone and still it trembles
The world I have known is lost in shadow.

Investigation/OTA

[dechagny]

[It could be said that this week is a marked change in Raoul, a figurative kick in the pants for figuring out just what the hell is going on. Today he's chosen the Art Studio, intrigued by how messy it still appears as opposed to the other rooms, which appeared cleaner, more orderly. For most of the day you'll find him going through the art supplies for anything unusual, checking the tables to see if anything was etched into them or left stuck underneath, being pretty thorough overall...even with the kiln, though he's wary of it.

Once the day begins to wane, though, you'll find him using some of the sculpting clay. Everything he makes looks like a kid's first romp with Play-doh, but it's more to do something with his hands than anything else.]

investigation/ota

[robitussin]

[After she wakes up this morning, she starts with going over every inch of her dressing room, moving the furniture and looking over every inch of the place.

Next stop is the bar, where she's scanning through each individual bottle to see if there's anything strange inside one of them. After that, she heads to the art studio, where she does the same thing with the paint containers.

After all that is done... She heads to the music room. This destination isn't meant for investigation; it's comfort. She sits down at the piano. Out of everything here, it's the most familiar and soothing thing she's found. After everything that's happened, and everything she suspects will keep on happening... She tries hard not to think about what she starts to play - other than making it something soothing, calming. There's even a soft smile on her face as she starts to play the notes and a tune begins to accompany her.]

When I go my way
Along some highway
Will you remember me

When you are lonesome
I'd like to own some
Place in your memory

I know that you'll play a part
In my heart when I start
That's something I can guarantee

But when I stray off,
Somewhere away off
Will you remember me?

[Despite how melancholy the words are, she seems - almost calm as she plays. It's the closest she's come recently, at any rate. The tune is simple and light. It's something she can easily get right, for once.]

[catliketread]

[Everyone seems to be pretty subdued this week and the Pirate King is no exception. He's been spending most of his time trying to paint, but it seems like nothing's really working out too well for him. You can find him in the art studio for most of the morning, though he doesn't seem to be nearly as enthusiastic about painting as he was earlier. The oceans he's trying to paint are in more subdued colors as well, perfectly reflecting his melancholy mood.

...Yes, he's exactly the kind of person to intentionally pick shades of blues, greens, and grays that will reflect his mood because he's not just a pirate, he's an artist. Or something. The point is he's being overdramatic even when he's not being a loud disaster.

Later in the evening you can find him in the bar where he's idly looking through the drinks. There doesn't seem to be anything he's really interested in, though he keeps coming across that certain brand of spiced rum and wrinkling his nose. Thanks for the reminder...]

THURSDAY

[stagemanagers]

OTA

[dechagny]

[Well...Raoul was going to investigate the tech room, but...his track record with new technology and things he doesn't recognize should be well known by now. Instead of looking around for unusual things, he's...examining everything unusual to him.

Depending on when you pass by or come in, you'll find Raoul fiddling with pretty much anything - the wireless mics, the lighting equipment, one of the smaller fog machines...which he kind of likes, actually, because he looks positively delighted to see how the fog billows out of them. This may actually be the most happy he's appeared all week.]

Quilt making!

[solomonjihad]

[Don't mind Astarte - in the afternoon, she's in the costume shop, trying to work on the quilt. She's on one of the sewing machines, very slowly using the needle and bobbin to try and work without making things lopsided. Its...kind of working.

Kind of. The black border on D-ne's square is a tad lopsided.

In the evening, she's walking, checking rooms, until she finally ends up in the recording studio. She pokes the microphone, frowning. Is anyone here? She may as well sing a little.]

The galactic waves collecting and breaking
Time doesn't tell of an end
If I listen carefully for a night sigh
I will hear the will of a star being born...