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

[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?

[stagemanagers]

...I can think of one thing.

[He smiles.] But never mind that! You want to keep this thing that bad, boy?

[pennyless]

[Billy thinks about it for a minute. He didn't have any strong attachment to the thing, and the only "haunting" he's experienced so far was less than pleasant.

But it's important to the others. And he's done being selfish. He cocks his chin up and takes a stand.]

Yeah. I do.

[sunshineprincess]

[What is it with the banter. Billy, stop. Please. Anna grabs the back of Billy's shirt and pulls him away from evil Santa.]

Go sit down and let me handle this. Okay?

[THIS IS GOING TO LOOK INSANE but Anna has spent her life watching people from where she could not to pick things up. Including watching the guards practice. She's going to wield the knife in one hand and the pan in the other.]

Let's dance, gramps.

[stagemanagers]

[He arches an eyebrow at that.]

...this doesn't seem like a fair fight. I wasn't sent down here to kill you, you know.

[pennyless]

[He didn't go sit down.

He is, at least, gripping his left shoulder now.]

...What were you sent down here to do?

[stagemanagers]

Take care of things. Since apparently the children are too incompetent to do so -

[Overhead, the intercom buzzes. It's a familiar voice that comes out - the same stagehand who addressed everyone at the last trial.]

Wooooah, hey, man! Don't tar us ALL with the Max brush!

[pennyless]

Take care of things? I find it hard to believe that you don't have anything better to do than sneak around in the middle of the night like some kind of uninspired Stephane Breitweiser copycat.

[stagemanagers]

[..........]

...a what, now?

[pennyless]

Stephane Breitweiser. He- he stole 239 pieces of art from 172 different museums across Europe over the course of six years.

[sunshineprincess]

[Uhm...

OH WAIT BOYFRIEND/SORT OF FIANCE IS A SUPER VILLAIN]

I don't think that's the case here, Billy. I think they're upset with the ghosts trying to boost our morale.

[AND HER WEAPONS ARE FINE]

[stagemanagers]

[The stagehand snorts.] Ghosts. It's cluttering the lobby, that's what it is! You can't have some sort of hodge-podge like that up during the grand finale!

...tell you what, just put it in the kitchen. No one cares what that looks like.

[pennyless]

Wait. So you're going to just let us keep it? Just like that?

[Not that he's complaining but]