itscurtains | week 2

Entry tags:

act 2,
week 2

week 2

WEEK 2
[It's been...

One week since you woke up here
Met your house manager and said "We’re angry"
Five days since he laughed at you saying
"Write me some letters and you’ll never see me"
Three days since the mirror room
You realized there’s more the Opera House wouldn't tell you
Yesterday you'd bonded more
But it'll still be two days till you get your motive

Welcome to week 2, performers.]

[Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday]

[ooc: happy week 2, everyone! Don't forget to submit your AC and your regains! Regain rolls are done Sunday and Tuesday nights.]

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[Christine used to find the merchandise booth pretty exciting. In fact, a lot of the things she's being passed are quite nice, and she is stealing away down the hall with quite a few costume pieces, stuffed toys, and even a painting once or twice. She looks happy then at least, but her mood is... subdued, while she's passing coins through the slot.

When she's passed a very familiar unicorn binder, though, she pauses. She sits down right there, nearly crouched underneath the little booth, as she starts turning the pages.]

It's... all here...

[Every photocopied page of text, each of her lines, marked in highlighter, her stage directions marked in gel pen. Even the little sticky note bookmarks for the scenes she'd been focused on memorizing are there. There appear to be some new notes too, ones from a much more wobbly hand. She isn't sure who's written them, nor is she sure who doodled the football over her variety of colourful glittery flowers on the border of one scene, but... she reads them all intently.

When she flips to the last page, she finds... an autograph sheet? There are a dozen signatures, from every single one of her castmates, people she had been desperately trying to connect with, and had... somehow succeeded?

Her eyes start to burn as she reads the words of praise, and she has to quickly shut her binder, hugging it to her chest as she tries to hide her tears.]

Christine? Hey, why - what's wrong?

[He notices the binder, his eyes flicking between it and Christine's face like he's trying to figure out how those two things are connected.]

J-Jeremy?

[She jumps when she realizes he's standing over her, and her eyes dart to him, then slowly lower back down to the floor. She laughs a bit, but that only makes her sound more miserable.]

N-Nothing's wrong, Jeremy... It's fine. It's really just dumb. It's okay, you don't have to check on me.

[Christine brings her knees up to shield the binder from view.]

Hey, no, um. [Jeremy sits down next to Christine.] We. We're friends, right?

♫ When you're sad
When you're feelin' low
When you're hurt, and don't know where to go
Think of me
There I'll be
Anytime you need a friend

[She looks up at him, searching for something desperately in Jeremy's worried gaze, but she's not sure if she can find it. She's overemotional. It's always been a problem for her, a reason why she doesn't connect with people well.

She's surprised Jeremy's trying, really.]

Friends? That's... that's what I'm wondering about Jeremy.

[She wants to sing along with him. She really does. But she finds herself hesitating instead.]

How... long have we been friends, Jeremy? Were we friends before we came here? For how long?

....... Christine, I'm sorry. I -

[Jeremy suddenly spasms like he's been, well. Tazed? When he stops, he's rubbing the back of his neck.]

What the fuck!

Jeremy?

[Christine reaches forward, hesitantly. She does eventually put a hand on him, but then rapidly pulls it away, flinching. Stupid static...]

Jeremy, come on, what's wrong?

[Jeremy's looking past Christine for a moment then he blinks and focuses back on her.]

Sorry, um. What were we talking about? [We're just not gonna talk about that, apparently.] We were - I mean, we'd only spoken once at play rehearsal but um. Everything. Everything that's happened here is real too, right?

[She... definitely had a point she wanted to get to here, and maybe she will a bit later, but right now, she is very much focused on what Jeremy has decided not to talk about.]

We can talk about that all later. What just happened, Jeremy? You flinched.

I - [Jeremy looks away from her again, clearly focused somewhere behind her.] have epilepsy?

[That's the best he can come up with on short notice. It is 100% not a good lie.]

Jeremy, what are you looking at?

[She glances back behind her, but she can't seem to see anything that would warrant such a strong reaction.]

Don't lie to me! Something's going on and I want to know what it is!

I. It's just. [He swallows.] I'm sorry, I can't. I don't, uh. I don't know how to tell you.

[Or rather: he physically cannot override the SQUIP in order to explain what's going on and therefore can't actually explain himself to Christine.]

It's okay if you don't know. But it'd be nice if you could try, maybe? And then I'll tell you what's bothering me, okay?

[A secret for a secret. She thinks that's the most logical way to do it.]

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[Ariel has his own coins to redeem, so it only makes sense that he would approach the Merchandise Booth and -- be surprised by tiny teenaged girl? Which is kind of terrifying considering the fact that knives and such are getting handed out.

That might not be good]

Christine? [He sets a hand on her shoulder.] Are you injured?

[Christine scrubs at her eyes and looks up at Ariel, before ducking her head away.]

N-No, I didn't. It's fine. I'm fine.

[Really, she should be fine! It's so stupid that she's upset!]

Oh, but of course. This is the same look I've seen many a perfectly happy person wear.

[You're not fooling him, Christine. But at least she's talking and, at least as far as he can tell, not bleeding everywhere. Positives!]

Did he send you something untoward?

It's so stupid. It's just the smallest little thing, and-and I should be happy! I mean, look at this!

[She flings open the binder again for him to see, flipping through the pages with shaky hands.]

See? This was the play I was supposed to be in before I came here. All my lines are highlighted. I wrote in the stage directions. I bookmarked all these pages here, and, and that's all fine, but...

[She starts scanning the pages a little more frantically, until she can point at another note, one that should be fairly benign, and yet just seeing it again makes her eyes blur again.]

But that's not my writing. Neither is this one. Someone else was adding notes in with me, and... and at the back, everyone signed their names. Everyone. Not just Jeremy. People who haven't even talked to me before, or thought I was weird, or annoying, they all signed it! They wrote such nice things...

[She reaches that page and smooths a hand over it, admiring all the different colours, a veritable kalaidoscope that makes her heart ache.]

...They're my friends now, I think? The first time I had actual friends, and I'm not even there to see it.

[Ariel has been out of his element a lot. He's lost in time and space, still barely knows the difference between a dishwasher and an oven. But somehow... this is the most overwhelming, bewildering thing he's come across.

What even is high school.]

It means you have friends to go back to, doesn't it? [He crouches down beside her, hand on her shoulder.] Friends that are looking for you, and will find you in only a matter of time.

[He hopes that's comforting. He really doesn't know if it is. He understands nothing.]

[It's hell, according to some people around here... and she's starting to wonder if they're all right.]

But then why don't I remember any of them? I've never had friends before this! Like, a couple when I was little, but they only really spent time with me out of obligation. I've been alone my whole life, and I thought I was okay with that! But now I'm really getting homesick, I guess?

[She wipes her eyes to look up at Angus, but whatever she sees, she only seems to get more frustrated.]

See? I told you it was stupid!

You wouldn't be the only one missing memories.

[He's spoken to Stephen about this at length. Between that, the patchy and often questionable information in the pamphlets, and Ariel's own troubled dreams, it isn't surprising that someone else felt that something was missing.]

It's not stupid, Christine, to feel that you're missing something. And it's not stupid to realize that you may have had something, only for it to be snatched away.

[He feels like he isn't making any sense. For all he knows, he isn't.]

I know. I know I'm not the only one.

[But that's what makes it worse. She chokes on a sob.]

E-Everyone here is hurting so much. Why would I be upset about something like this? I-I don't have the right to be upset, not when I... I should be helping!

[Her hands curl into fists, but there's nothing around to hit and she's well aware how stupid she'd look.]

I should have been doing more already. I should have realized what I was trying to do wasn't going to work. Everyone's still stuck here, and that Phantom isn't misunderstood or someone I can get through to, and so many people have gone through so much worse than me, and-and now someone's going to die and I'm sitting here crying about a stupid play because I don't know how to actually process what really matters!

[Oh god, oh fuck, oh god... At least with Riley, he could back into his own element to take care of her. He's out in public and exposed here.]

Everyone is hurting in their own ways. They are... experiencing things very new to them, or learning things about themselves that they had not considered. I am sure everyone is looking at everyone else and feeling foolish about their own shortcomings.

[Can he touch her shoulder? He's going to touch her shoulder.]

I was. Quite distraught over a feather. A feather. Likely unrelated to anything I've ever seen. [He knows better, but maybe if he stretches the truth a little...] That's far smaller than a notebook filled with people that are deeply important to you, don't you think?

I mean... I guess so. [This would probably be overwhelming to a lot of people, wouldn't it? When you're far away from home, reminders of that home are naturally painful. She drags an arm over her eyes, sniffling and then exhaling with a sigh.]

I just wish I was talented at something else besides being on stage. If I could do first aid, or martial arts, or something that would help us get out of here. But I'm not even smart enough to think of what would be useful...

[She hesitates, but then slowly adjusts her position, half leaning against Ariel. She may or may not be trying to subtlely ask for a hug.]

Christine. [He... doesn't have any option but to hug her. It's kind of awkward, one arm looped around her shoulder and the other resting against her upper arm but. It's fine. He's just not used to this sort of thing.]

I am a talented alchemist, I've told you this before. I should have no trouble creating things like acids and breaking down the doors here. And yet, my skills have had no impact on our imprisonment. [He has yet to try explosions, but that's a little more risky...

... And also not the point.]

The phantom has planned ahead for people like me. But those like you, with talents so readily labeled as "not useful..." I think those will be the key to our freedom.

[She sighs softly, but sounds at least slightly more calm now, rubbing her eyes and hoping she won't end up tearing up again. He's doing this much to try to help her, the least she can to is take his guidance.

She does laugh though, soft and sweet, before shaking her head.]

Is it you calling them 'not useful' or me?