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]

TUESDAY

[stagemanagers]

WEDNESDAY

[stagemanagers]

THURSDAY

[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.]

[stagemanagers]

[If we're starting with Eliza's door the name on it might ring familiar: Aaron Burr, The Villain. Underneath the name someone saw fit to scribble ", sir" in the space between the name and the title.]

[robitussin]

Huh. I would've thought most people would be going straight for the whiskey. Wouldn't really blame them.

[She's looking around the room curiously, even if she doesn't intend to drink anything.]

Lots on your mind?

tech studio

[robitussin]

[She's also glancing at one of the devices that looks like it could shoot fire. Someone stop this.]

How much damage do you think one of these could cause? Like, enough to burn or melt a door or whatever?

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.]

[dechagny]

[For Raoul? Not really, he's not one for knowing the history of the Americas. But he will take a mental note of this and be sure to write it down and discuss it with the others -

wAIT A MINUTE. Burr...Barr? Could Barr have been a misspelling of Burr? He'll have to compare this to the note he found and see if it's possible.

Now, what of Darla's door?]

Booze woo

[solomonjihad]

[Its reasonably late before a somewhat frazzled Astarte enters, spotting Raoul as she does so.]

...Are you all right?

[Can she partake or does she have to be 20 18 21...you know what she's going to just take the first bottle she sees and pour a tiny shot for herself.]

recording studio

[dieformymusic]

[Recording studio? This kind of thing is his jam. The musician comes in, noticing Billy recording in there.

Winslow goes over the buttons, all of it pretty familiar to him as he taps Billy's shoulder.

"Need help?"]

[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.

Evening

[onthebusagain]

[Heather's not exactly thrilled to be alone right now. And Astarte, batshit as she is, is the closest thing to a friend she has. So it's not really a shocker when she approaches her in the hallway.] Astarte! There's a bar upstairs! [She can probably be coerced into a healthier activity. Probably.]

[solomonjihad]

...Heather, hi.

[Blink.]

I don't think I've been up on the new floor yet, actually.

[That she can remember, unless she was in the wood shop or something??]

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?

[onthebusagain]

It's not that great. But there is a bar! We can have a party!

[solomonjihad]

[Cue a wild-eyed, angry-crazy stare from the psychotic person with their hands in red paint and holding a daubing knife.]

I deserve to die.

[GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO]

[solomonjihad]

Are we even old enough to drink here, though?

[As tempting as getting super drunk might be]

[dontfeedplants]

[Well this sure is a great start to the day. Seymour's just... going to take a few steps back now.]

I kind of meant in general.

[At the end of the day, Seymour also kind of believes that he deserves to die, but that's less evidence and more self image issues.]

[inforapenny]

Aaaah -

[He jumps, startled by the touch, and whips around.]

- oh! Uh, heh, hey Winslow. Do - do you actually know how to use all this stuff? [Totally smooth recovery, yep.]

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.]

Re: tech studio

[inforapenny]

[Billy stops, then looks at her. Then back at the device, then back at her.]

These look like simple pyrotechnics, but I'm pretty sure I could bypass the safety features and we could make it hot enough to melt doors.

[You know, for science.]