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

[stagemanagers]

[ the second bottle lasts a few more sips before meeting the same fate as the first ]

[ how many innocent bottles have to die, Hans ]

[trettende]

[ What the hell, can't a guy have a drink in peace. He is going to grab another bottle, yes, but this time before taking a sip of it he'll hesitate, as if testing a theory.

Do these ghosts hate vodka or do they just hate Hans. ]

[stagemanagers]

[ ........smash ]

[ who do you think has to make all these bottles, Hans. Think of the factory workers. ]

[trettende]

Okay, that's enough.

[ Hans will forego the alcohol then!! Jeez. He can't really deny that there's either A: someone invisible here, or B: a freaking ghost. Is it safe to grab a drink of water. Or do the ghosts hate all liquids indiscriminately. ]

I-is someone there?