week 1

[stagemanagers]

WEEK 1

[With the introduction of their showrunner and a brief run through of what they're in for in their time in the Opera House out of the way, the performers are free to explore the first floor of the opera house at their leisure then and for the rest of the week that lies ahead. The double doors leading to the kitchen will be unlocked at 7 am and locked at 10 pm for intermission. Performers are free to prepare meals for themselves and others at any time outside of intermission.

The Merchandise Booth will also be open for business after the first day as some of the performers may find envelopes with their names on it taped to their doors in the morning.

If performers wish to have private conversations with their showrunner, The Balladeer, just step up to the box office and see if he's in.

Enjoy your week, everyone.]


[Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday]


[ooc: This is the last mod post for the week for us! Feel free to start depositing coins in the merch booth if any of your threads have reached that length, so long as they're not with the Balladeer. Remember, song threads mean double coins! There will be no murder this first week so gain all the CR you can while it lasts, darlings.]

Comments

[solomonjihad]

...these people...they make no sense. You have musical talent, and they...took us for a show...

[And she sure is no singer. What is the logic here...]

[dieformymusic]

[It really doesn't make sense.

"Mabye it's my talent they want."]

[solomonjihad]

...for the show...?

Have..you ever done anything for an opera, before?

[dieformymusic]

["It only makes sense."

Shakes head.

"No but I have an entire cantata written."]

[solomonjihad]

You do?

[He's only been here a week--]

[dieformymusic]

["Before I came here. I wanted to share it. But now I don't have it."]

[solomonjihad]

[...Aw man, that's not as amazing. Then again, for Astarte, the difference between writing a cantata and writing a cantata in a half-week is basically the difference between shooting lasers out of one's eyes - and shooting lasers out of one's eyes that are two colors.

Both are still impressive, to her.]

May I ask...what the cantata was about?

[dieformymusic]

[Winslow's helmet isn't that sci fi yet.

But yes, another chance to enthuse about his cantata.

"It's based on Faust. The story of a man who sells his soul to the devil."]

[solomonjihad]

Faust...

[Something changes about her demeanor, at this. A strange smile starts to form on her face.

Astarte herself doesn't even realize what is happening.]

I am well aware of his story.

[dieformymusic]

[Winslow finds himself uncomfortable for some reason. It's like he mentioned a ghost.

"Are you not comfortable with it?"]

[solomonjihad]

Oh, no.

[There's an almost nostalgic grin on her face as she looks at him, an odd gleam in her red eyes.]

Its one of my favorite memories.

[dieformymusic]

[Oh thank goodness. He feared he may have ruined it somehow.

"So you've seen it before?"]

[solomonjihad]

Seen it?

[Her voice seems to deepen, just slightly, as she stares at him.]

No. Inspired it.

[dieformymusic]

[He looks down, confused and just a bit frightened. Inspired?

But that's an old story...

He smiles nervously.

"You must be a real creative soul."]

[1/2]

[solomonjihad]

Creative.

[Her smile seems to become dangerous as she fully turns.

One step. Two step.]

If only you knew...just what--

[She stop at the third step, and her eyes widen.]

O-oh no-

[2/2]

[solomonjihad]

[The next thing Astarte fully realizes, her eyes are rolling up, and she's falling, her strength gone. Oh. What happened? Is she still in the ballroom? Where's Winslow--

She'd fought, but what happened?]

[dieformymusic]

[What...what was happening...she seemed to be having some kind of episode.

Winslow reached out for her, making a concerned strangled noise as that smile grew on her face.

What...what was happening?]

[solomonjihad]

[It takes a moment, but she lets out a gasp when she comes to.]

Are...you ok!?

[dieformymusic]

[He looks...a tad shaken to say the least. But he reaches for her out of concern.

"What was that?"]

[solomonjihad]

That...

[She hesitates. The idea of telling these people...would they understand? Could they? Its her burden. As a goddess. Some things she must bear alone.

Right?]

....Its nothing, I...I black out at times. It saps my energy.

...

I'm sorry.

[dieformymusic]

[He could see the hesitation. But Winslow never really believed in things like demons or gods (though he wrote of them), so he suspects something medical.

"Do you need a hospital? Medicine?"]

[solomonjihad]

No, I...I'll be fine.

[She shakes her head.]

Really...!