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

[pennyless]

[Billy aims for the face when they keep coming, more of what is clearly fire extinguisher goo spraying out.

And then the hose is cut and he stares at the two pieces in shock for a moment.]

How are you even still breathing with this stuff-

[stagemanagers]

[The stagehand stands for a moment, sword leveled at Billy.

Then they lunge forward - in what is actually a feint. They mostly just want to see what he does.]

[pennyless]

--AAAHH!

[He jerks the canister up in front of his torso defensively, then peeks from behind it when he realizes it was a feint.]

...Can't we just, maybe, talk about this? Have a cup of tea? You know, you don't stab me and leave the painting alone-

[stagemanagers]

[They laugh, a deep sound, and take a few steps forward, feinting with the sword again.

Looks like they're trying to drive him out of the lobby.]

[pennyless]

Dude, are you a smoker? Maybe you ought to have a doctor take a look at that.

A real doctor, not me, I mean I know I'm "The Doctor" but that's PhD, not MD.

[He dodges to the side instead of back.]

[stagemanagers]

[Well, this has been fun and all, Billy, but you're a little in his way.

The stagehand darts out with the sword to cut along Billy's left shoulder. They aren't aiming to injure him badly - just to leave a cut. Blood scares people.]

[pennyless]

[Billy hisses in pain and drops to one knee when the blade grazes his shoulder.

However, he's seen more than enough blood in his time here, and being a supervillain who's used to all kinds of mistreatment from "heroes" has pretty much inured him to pain.

So when he has his assailant thinking he's down, he swings the heavy metal canister at the masked figure's left knee.]

[stagemanagers]

[He moves to block the canister with the sword, but heavy metal canisters are, in fact, heavier than swords. Both end up hitting the stagehand's knee, and while the blade was turned so that only the flat impacted, he grunts in pain as the knee gives out.

And then he moves to bring the pommel of the blade down on Billy's head.]

[pennyless]

[From the minute the knee gives out, Billy's surging up and in, head tucked low and body aimed like a bony javelin at the attacker's diaphragm. The pommel hits him in the back instead of the head, and he grunts with pain.]

You're not... Getting that fucking painting...!

[stagemanagers]

[Billy's going to meet some definite resistance when he executes that tackle. Feels like this one is wearing something hard beneath the cloak.

The stagehand wraps his free arm around Billy's torso as he's hit, throwing his upper body down in an effort to be on top when this whole thing inevitably turns into brawling on the floor like drunkards.]

[pennyless]

Is that- Kevlar?

[Billy resists and twists like a wild animal as much as his scrawny nerd body allows, but he is eventually overpowered and slammed to the floor.

Keep your head down and the fight close.

He's pretty sure that tucking his head in and blindly groping the stagehand's face to try to find where his eyes are isn't exactly the textbook way to do this, but his brain is his most valuable feature and he is not going to the final trial with a concussion ty.]

[stagemanagers]

[Billy will probably notice that this stagehand doesn't seem to be wearing a morphsuit. In other words, there's not an actual physical thing that needs to be cut off his face; he's just got a cloak and a hood.

He turns his head away from the groping, moving to try to get a knee on Billy's back, to pin him more thoroughly.]

[sunshineprincess]

[Okay, where did Billy go and what the heck is all that noise. Anna rushes in and stops momentarily. Uuuuhhhhmmm...

She looks down at the utility belt she got a while ago, weighing in a few seconds what would be more effective. The frying pan she had gotten to use as a potential shield would be a good plan.

So off she goes, running at the stagehand from behind. She's gonna swing hard, not caring if she hits the head or torso. Either way she's gonna follow it up with another hit if the assailant doesn't drop after the first hit.]

Get off of my boyfriend!

[stagemanagers]

[That first hit totally connects with the torso, making a dull thud not exactly like metal hitting flesh.

The stagehand does drop and roll aside and off of Billy, giving himself enough room to rise, sword still in hand. But he doesn't move quite yet, looking between the two of them and lifting the blade in a warning gesture. All the motion, plus Billy's blind flailing, has made his hood fall: this stagehand is an older man, with a thick white beard and longish white hair that looks to be tied back.]

[pennyless]

[Billy doesn't stop. The minute he's unpinned he rolls gracelessly to his feet and throws himself in front of Anna.

And that's where the stalemate begins.]

Oh, great, I just got my butt kicked by Santa Claus.

What do you want with that painting? You might as well talk now, we've seen your face.

[stagemanagers]

That?

[He gestures derisively towards it, without taking his eyes away from them.]

It's ugly. We want it out.

[pennyless]

[Billy scoffs.]

And you couldn't wait two days? You're the ones who handed down the ultimatum - if the "curtain call" is in two days, why not just wait til then instead of risking, you know, this?

["This", he gestures between them in their standoff.]

[stagemanagers]

Management didn't authorize it. You can't just start going off-script now.

[...he grins.] Besides, got me the first fight I've had in a while!

[pennyless]

Fighting the establishment is pretty on-script for me, in case you haven't noticed.

[...Wait.]

What do you mean "management didn't authorize it?" They didn't make it to mock us for, you know, making the memorial and stuff?

[stagemanagers]

You think we spend our time on shitty arts and crafts projects? When Management wants to mock you, you'll know.

[pennyless]

Well, we didn't make it.

[...Now he's going to glance at it because he never actually considered that it could be real ghosts.]

What can we do to convince you to let us keep it?

[He takes a step forward, not within reach of the sword but enough to try to get the guy to take a step back.]

[stagemanagers]

[ahahahaha he's not moving. enjoy closer sword proximity I guess.]

Why would you want to keep it?

[pennyless]

[I mean it does make it less likely for the sword to go through him and also hit Anna so you know what he will ty]

Look at it. "VJ?" "SSA?" I don't- I think that picture is a dead cat? Maybe?

I thought you guys made it to taunt us about our friends.

[stagemanagers]

[He considers this.]

...well, they are also dead.

[pennyless]

[...You know what let's run with this.]

And what's more dramatic for the grand finale of a show than a real live haunted opera house?