WEEK 7

[stagemanagers]

WEEK 7

[Seven weeks later. Half of your number remains.

Nothing in the opera house seems all that different. The Box Office door has been locked after the death of its occupant, and there's a new copy of the house rules nailed to the front, with the last one circled heavily in black ink. The point has been made; the rest of you had better play your parts.

The crew members still aren't visibly walking the halls, but every so often there's movement in your peripheral vision, or vague half-heard whispers from the shadows. Every so often there's a thud or a snicker from inside the Merchandise Booth, though the stagehand inside will continue handing out prizes to those who earn them.

This may be your last week here. Make the most of it.]

[ Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday ]

[ooc: don't forget to submit your memories and check into the roll call!]

Comments

SUNDAY

[stagemanagers]

[pennyless]

[Billy doesn't take that locked box office door as a warning. He takes it as a challenge.

Which is why he's going to tear down the rules and get paint from the paint room, boldly painting on the door in broad, angry strokes.]

WE WILL NOT BE MANIPULATED. WE WILL NOT BE VICTIMS ANYMORE.

[He leaves a couple different colors of paints and sizes of brushes outside the box office when he goes, for whoever wants to join him in vandalism. But when he's done, he's going to retreat to his usual spot in the tech lab, hard at work on...something.

It looks like the Doctor is going to have no problem playing his role.]

[dechagny]

[...You know what? Yeah. Petty vandalism sounds pretty great right about now. Raoul grabs the orange paint to add something beneath the red:]

WE WERE NEVER YOURS TO DIRECT. WE WILL NEVER SUBMIT.

MONDAY

[stagemanagers]

[stagemanagers]

[Someone was here Sunday Night, and it looks like they've taken the time to remove any and all traces of paint from the box office door and the cameras. The rules are stuck back up, but it doesn't look as though the assailant had the time to actually bolt them in or anything. They can be torn right back down, but it looks like there's someone here who doesn't appreciate fine art.

Perhaps you should figure out some way to repay them?]

[pennyless]

[Well all right first things first, Billy's going to tear down the rules again because fuck your rules and fuck the establishment.

Second, he's going to take up his red paint again and go for a different message this time.]

THE STATUS IS NOT QUO.

WE WILL NOT BE IGNORED.

[And then he's going to set up camp right outside the door, and sit there all day.

It looks like he's playing innocuously with a rather large laser pointer to pass the time. At least, it looks that way until you realize that on the opposite wall - directly in view of the cameras - there are char marks on the wallpaper left in the path of the laser that take the shape of a giant extended middle finger.]

[dechagny]

[...Well. Y'all let him have access to a sword for some reason, right?

Once Raoul sees that the paint has been taken off, he retreats to his room and returns with that sword he found in Week 5. He keeps it at his side safely and walks with purpose towards the box office, not bothering a soul, and once he reaches the door, proceeds to methodically carve a message into the door:

WE WILL NOT BE SILENT

The sword goes back away very soon after but his point is made.]

[sunshineprincess]

[Anna has been busy. She spent most of the night in various rooms gathering some things up. Anyone who walks into the ballroom will find in large white letter painted on the floor:

IN MEMORIAM

There's various items in their own little shrines. A doll that looks like Hime, the blue ribbon Anna had given D-ne, silver candlesticks for Valjean, the unfinished quilt for Eliza, the flashlight and duct tape for Javert, Astarte's locket for Astarte, Gabe... gets a hand drawn picture of the stunt cow, Darla has a pink curled ribbon, Hook gets a awfully dyed black wig, a card of the fool with heart painted on it for the Balladeer, and for Natalie... Natalie has a stack of books sitting right on the piano with Anna right beside it. Eating a pie.

She has a stack of polaroids beside her for those who want to see some of the former cast members.]

OTA (bring it, ghosts)

[trettende]

[ HAHA, did y'all think Hans was going to join in the obvious civil disobedience? Alas, not likely. He's the Mole, he's gotta act pretty for the camera. After sleeping through most of Sunday and wandering through the halls, he spends the afternoon revisiting the recent crime scene, the Bathroom and the Hall. This was where it happened, where the blame fell on the Balladeer. He still looks kind of sad. Oh, and did I mention he's stopped wearing his gloves? Yeah.

After he's done reminiscing, Hans makes his way to the bar once again. Gotta pour one out for Bal, okay. But while he's here, nursing a bottle of vodka, he's also reading through some notes that he's brought with him. Maybe if you ask or sit down, you might see what he's got? Just don't expect him to tell you, out loud. The Management is always watching. ]

Bar-stard

[sunshineprincess]

[Anna comes in and just sits next to Hans, arms crossed.]

So. You and Billy are suddenly getting along?

[This is not kosher. Oh hey.]

Notes?

bar

[stagemanagers]

[ suddenly, as if someone smacked it aside, the bottle of vodka flies out of Hans's hands and onto the ground ]

[ that's a lot of broken glass. maybe leave it for Bialy to clean up. ]

[aflatouttahell]

[There's a lot of vandalisms going on, and Jez is all about that, but also she kind of refuses to give up on her dumb play. It's only in part because it reminds her of Natalie, she swears. Anyway, she's had a great idea! SHE'S GONNA MAKE IT A JUKEBOX MUSICAL!!! So she can definitely be found most of the time in the library working on that, a list of songs that don't really seem to go together (Backstreet Boys and Cyndi Lauper, really?) next to her and growing as she works. And if you catch her at the right time, you might hear her leaning against a bookshelf and singing, having apparently been going for a book, but...]

Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
And think of you
Caught up in circles
Confusion is nothing new
Flashback, long nights
And I'm left behind
Suitcases of memories,
Time after-

Oh, uh... sorry.

[But there are other things that are very in the spirit of rebellion, so she makes her way up to the bar. She's gonna do it, she's gonna drink!!

... if you walk in, you might find her offering you a three-quarter-full glass of something, a grossed-out look on her face.]

Hey, do you... want this? I didn't realize this stuff is awful.

(ooc: this use of that song is the traditional music number use, not like "Jez is practicing a song for her ridiculous Faust," for the record. If that makes any sense.)

bar!!

[catliketread]

[Oh no, honey... The Pirate King is trying really goddamn hard not to look too amused, but it is obviously not working given how hard he's grinning.]

The first time is usually the worst when it comes to things like this! I am sorry you didn't enjoy it, however.

library

[dieformymusic]

[Winslow hears singing in the library as he makes his way in. He's more embarrassed he disrupted her. She must have needed the time to recover after...Natalie's passing.]

...no, it's fine. I didn't mean to bother you.

[dontfeedplants]

Closed to Winslow

[Ever since the trial on Friday, Seymour didn't exactly feel comfortable being alone anymore. Which he supposed, in a certain way, was a good thing. For most of his life, even when he wanted it, he felt pretty undeserving of support. So the fact that he was willing to ask to stay with Winslow for the weekend felt like a huge accomplishment for him.

He still insisted on sleeping on the floor all weekend. The idea of sleeping in the same bed as anyone felt too scandalous to him.

But that Monday morning, Seymour remembers something he sorely wished he could forget. He wakes up already crying to the point that it doesn’t even register to him that he’s not alone in the room.

God, he thought he was over feeling emotional about his memories.]

Everyone Else

[After he leaves Winslow’s room, it's obvious that he's been crying, but now he is determined. This may have confirmed that he had nothing left back home, but like hell was he giving up on what he has here now.

However, the first thing he does is go to the tea room, grab one of the tables, and head to the garden. After cutting off some lilies and placing it on the tea room table, he stands in silence, before finally speaking to seemingly nobody.]

I hope you don't think this is weird. I figured that it might be nice for you to have somewhere that's green for you to rest. Somewhere better.

[He sighs, looking thoughtful for a good long while.]

If I get out of here, I promise I'll do anything to bring you back like they brought me back. You deserve a second chance more than I do.

And I’m sure you’ll love all of them when I get you back.

[He is going to fight. Fight for every chance to get out of here, and save everything he has left. Even if his second chance was just to entertain this audience, he is going to make sure that he is going to use this chance to its full potential.

But for now, he needs a moment.


Later, after he's done with that, you can find him at the bar, although now he's just drinking a soda and looking contemplative. If he sees you, he'll probably end up asking you this:]

Did you think you would make it this long without dying?

... That's not a weird question, is it?

[Please don't judge him.]

bar

[aflatouttahell]

[She eventually settled on a soda herself, though she did figure out how to make a Shirley Temple and it is hella, as the kids say.]

No, I don't think it's weird. But I also don't know what I expected to happen, really.

[dieformymusic]

[Winslow long resigned himself to being the supportive friend...for both Phoenix and Seymour. Seymour had Audrey to worry about. He only needed his support. Besides, what did he have to give? A scary face and a monster voice? A nonexistent life? All he can do is just...be there and make music.

When he wakes up, he hears something he didn't think he could hear. Crying.

He should say something...should he? No. Maybe only gently prod Seymour to let him know he's here.]

[catliketread]

[So, since civil disobedience seems to be the trend of the day, the Pirate King is not about to miss out! You can find him in the third floor hallway where he's uh... well, he's got a lot of paint cans from the paint room sitting out here and he's currently in the process of bringing some brushes out as well. It looks like whatever he's planning to do is going to be on a much larger scale, given how he's eyeing the walls. He's also changed into clothes that are not his usual pirate ones, so this is probably gonna get messy.

If you come by later in the evening, you'll find that he is indeed getting messy - in the form of literally flinging paint at the walls. Most of this is done with large brushes that he dips in the cans and then flicks at the wall like some kind of wanna-be modern artist, but sometimes he'll just open a paint can and fling that at the wall. Needless to say this is apparently how the Pirate King is going to be protesting management, even if there aren't any words or grand songs. Sometimes you've just gotta pick the fun route that involves a lot of paint.]

OTA

[dechagny]

[Though he didn't show it much with his threatening civil disobedience, Raoul actually does have a lot on his mind. Monday came with its usual dream-memory, and though it's not particularly traumatic, it still raises a lot more questions in his mind...but it also answers some. Not enough, not the ones he wants answered, but some.

You'll find him - where else? - in the kitchen today, cooking up a storm to get his mind off of things, though knowing Raoul he'd be fine with explaining just why he's so aggressively whisking eggs for quiche.]

TUESDAY

[stagemanagers]

[Tuesday morning, there is a large box sitting on the dining room table. Whoever opens it will be greeted by the sound of party horns and a shower of colorful confetti. Inside, there's a note written in an elegant hand:]

JOIN US THURSDAY FOR THE SHOW'S GRAND FINALE! IT'S AN EXPERIENCE YOU WON'T WANT TO MISS!

AND WHO KNOWS - MAYBE IT'LL FULFILL YOUR USUAL THURSDAY NIGHT TRADITIONS~

[stagemanagers]

[Naturally, there is no announcement over the intercoms today. There's really no reason for you all to gather in the main lobby around noon, in other words.

But at some point in the afternoon, a large piece of plywood appears in the lobby, leaning up against the doors that ought to lead outside. It looks like one of the pieces from the workshop, but it's been painted in a variety of colors. All in all, a much less vandal-y attempt at decoration...all the same, you may want to protect it if you want to keep it.

...also, around noon sharp, another lobby chair flings itself at the box office door again.]

this is long and it's your fault, you monsters

[trettende]

[ Tuesday... the day everyone used to hear the Balladeer's voice over the intercom, then be treated to a song or... a lie, in last week's case. Hans had known "the mole" wouldn't be killing anyone. He'd kept the ruse up for so long it's almost strange to have made it here, in the show, instead of... him. (The Balladeer, for those of you just tuning in.)

In the morning, Hans stops by the Merchandise Booth one last time—he would have hoped for a weapon once upon a time, but the bunch of stuff he gets isn't bad either, given the cold. I mean, he leaves the Tony and the boots and junk (he isn't even going to touch the rope,) but one particular item catches his eye: a brown bomber jacket, tucked almost haphazardly under his own winter coat.

Hans pulls the unfamiliar jacket from the pile. The style isn't exactly familiar to him, and the smell of gunpowder doesn't exactly bring back fond memories, but... look, Hans spent a lot of the last week with the Balladeer, and even more during the month they'd spent here. He'd know that smell anywhere. ]

What the hell is this...?

[ He holds it up, runs his hands over the lining and holds it close for confirmation. It's definitely the Balladeer's jacket. It smells just like him, gunpowder and all. But the Balladeer was gone now, he'd never get to see it, never get to wear it.

For a moment, Hans doesn't know what to do. He stands there, thinking about all the things he could have said to the Balladeer before he died, all the ways he made the weeks here bearable, how he'd changed his life for good just by being there.

But he's gone. The Management killed him. And Hans, for all that he may not have pulled the trigger, for all that he may have refused to sell him out, may as well have been complicit in his death. It's a thought that makes his stomach fall, like a weight in his stomach and an ache in his chest all at the same time.

He starts to cry. Softly. (Good thing no one is looking.) After a while, he finally speaks. Now would be a horrible time to walk up to him, just as he's done crying over a weird jacket in his hands, but maybe you can catch him mumbling to himself. Just don't ask what he was crying about. Please. Hans isn't supposed to cry!! ]

If this is what having feelings is like, it's terrible.

[ Later in the day, Hans can be found looking for something to do. He's wearing the bomber jacket, (which actually fits him, unlike some people) and not his winter coat. Plus now that he's lost all need for pretenses, he's not wearing his gloves. Maybe you'll find him in the Art Studio, trying to make another really crappy bowl. Or maybe you've caught him in the tea room, though he's really interested in having tea, he just wandered in here.

Either way, he's not going to be hitting the bar today, after yesterday didn't really go so well. So maybe if you wanna run into him anywhere else just handwave it and we'll say he was totally walking by and saw you. He's doing pretty okay now. Or he will be, maybe. At least for today.

Hopefully. ]

WEDNESDAY

[stagemanagers]

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?

[trettende]

[ Almost time for the finale, huh? Like hell we're gonna let Wednesday go unused. With the end of the show approaching, it's unclear even to Hans whether or not they'll survive the end, but since it's the end, shouldn't they commemorate it somehow?

What better way to do that than with song? Yes, after a week of pressing buttons at random (thanks for the advice, Billy) Hans has figured out how to use the recording studio. Because it's the last week and every show needs a cast album. In the morning, he'll have put a note in the lobby that says:

Meet me in the Recording Studio if you'd like to leave something behind that's more than just a piece of paper.

- Hans

When you get there, you'll find Hans in the booth, testing the mic with a few lyrics of his own. (Yes, he's wearing the bomber jacket today again. And no gloves.) ]

Without you
The ice thaws
The rain falls
The garden grows

Without you
The seeds root
The flowers bloom
The children play

The stars gleam
The poets dream
The eagles fly

Without you
The earth turns
The sun burns
But I die without you...

[ He sighs. Well, the mic is working, at least. Feel free to come in for a recording session, yeah? ]

[inforapenny]

[Billy is going to spend most of the day not, surprisingly, holed up in the tech lab, but the costume room. He's bent over one of the sewing machines, steadily turning some of the fabric into a growing pile of messenger bags. The first few are a little uneven and have had their seams reinforced a couple of times while he figured out the pattern, but he's gotten it down by the end of the morning.

He's also getting fancy with the embroidery functions of the sewing machine, sketching out little shapes and then tracing them over with the stitching. In particular, one motif that at least two of the bags hold is two green snakes wrapped around a red winged staff.

Also after the night before, he's wincing occasionally when he moves his left arm too far.]