No Backward Glances

[stagemanagers]

Today is the day of the promised grand finale. And, strangely, nothing about the Opera seems especially different this morning. The theatre doors remain locked. There's no smell of blood in the air, no trashed rooms, and no dead bodies to find. In the lobbies, the crystal chandeliers are still in their places, not swung about by any mysterious force.

But there's little things. It may take a while to notice, but the lock on one of the doors in the second floor lobby - the one leading to Boxes 5 through 8 - is missing. Should anyone try it, it opens easily and without a sound.

Meanwhile, down on the first floor, the graffiti on the box office walls has once again been cleaned up. In the process, it seems, the box office door was left slightly ajar.



(( As a reminder, these are your teams. Group A gets the second floor, which will involve the area indicated in red, and Group B gets the first floor, with the areas in blue here and down the left to here. Good luck, everyone! ))

Comments

[stagemanagers]

[The wardrobe is stuffed quite full of an eclectic mix of clothes - mainly large suits, long black robes, and slimmer-cut green suits.

Along with a fuckton of these things. It's Arm Thing 3: Armageddon.]

[pennyless]

[...well since Hans picked up the post-its Billy's going to go ahead and get a closer look here then.

How many is a fuckton, like if he drags them out onto the floor to see if there's a false back or false bottom to the wardrobe will the pile go up to his knees, his ankles, his chest, what]

[stagemanagers]

[ENDLESS THNEEDS. YOU'RE DROWNING IN THNEEDS. BAD END GAME OVER

They do look pretty thick though, so you might actually be able to get a pile of them up to your knees. Someone in this room has a problem.]

[pennyless]

Why does somebody have so many of these stupid things?

[Alright now that the yarn gods have barfed a thneed rainbow all over the floor, he's going to shove the clothes to the sides and knock on the wardrobe's back and bottom and sides.]

[stagemanagers]

[Mr. Tumnus appears!

...no he doesn't, it is just a wardrobe.]

[pennyless]

[...For that matter why isn't there a Narnia musical what the fuck Broadway you can greenlight a Lord of the Rings musical but not-

anyway.

Okay, just... just ballparking here, but are the large suits about the same size as, say, ones that would fit Max?]

[stagemanagers]

[They would totally fit Max.]

[pennyless]

Well, we know what Max wore on his off days.

[Is there anything special about the robes?]

[stagemanagers]

[They've got green and silver accents, along with an interesting embroidered patch. They're also definitely too small to ever fit Max.]

[pennyless]

[...

looks at the green snakes on the caduceus on his bag

looks at that patch

You know, in another universe he could totally see this being his aesthetic.]

Weird.

[Alright, moving on to the ugly green pimp suits: are they about the same size as the robes, are they smaller, larger, or what?]

[stagemanagers]

[They are larger than the robes, but too slim-fitted to be Max's.]

[pennyless]

I think the real victims here are fashion.

[That's a joke, son.

Anything else about the wardrobe? Any drawers to rifle through while he has gloves on?]

[stagemanagers]

[No, you've found just about everything worthwhile in this room.

And several things that honestly weren't. None of this is worthwhile these people are garbage monsters.]

[pennyless]

[Billy thinks about it for a minute, and then apparently decides against setting fire to the wardrobe out of pettiness.

...He's not going to put the thneeds back, though.]

Alright, we ready?

[trettende]

Yes, I guess so.

[pennyless]

[Here we go, bruh]