"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.xxx Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
xxxxxHer reactions to him had become gentle once more, perhaps because they had reconnected again or perhaps out of pity, but it hardly mattered at the moment. Erik had forgotten the worries over her curiosity with his hiding behind a mask even as her hand brushed away the signs of his true vulnerability. She now had the raw truth of his feelings for her and why he had to be here tonight, the very truth behind that of Don Juan Triumphant.
xxxxxBefore she could give an answer, however, a scream cut through the air making him glance briefly to the side. Well, they found Piangi. Couldn’t Carlotta be glad he was still alive at the very least? Then again, she had a flair for the dramatics. What he hadn’t expected, something that might not have happened had he not turned back when he’d been pushed, was the slowing down of time as the familiar weight of the mask on his face vanished entirely. What followed merely made him freeze in place as a sudden chill ran down his spine.
xxxxxShe saw him, and so did so many others. Even from the stage, he could hear people in the audience repeating the same sharp gasp. He never wanted it to be seen again, but here it was: the past brought to the present. What would come to mind for those that had heard Madame Giry’s tale was her words about the child oddity in the traveling fair:
xxxxxEven fire could not be rid of him it seemed.
xxxxxPerhaps the scarring wasn’t as horrible now that he was older. Oh who was he trying to fool besides himself? He’d seen it plenty of times in the mirrors he usually had covered in his lair, and the most that had changed over time was that the fiery red color it had been was now dulled into a pink hue that fit a little better with the rest of his skin tone. The smooth-as-porcelain texture of his face was forever marred in that one spot on the upper left side of his face by something resembling a corpse slowly deteriorating away in the sun with veins becoming more prominent.
xxxxxIn the blink of an eye, Erik quickly cast aside the dark shroud of the costume before quickly sliding the small ring back onto the end of his pinkie and dipping in low enough to just slightly lift Christine off of her feet. His foot then hit the stage in a specific spot just as a brief flash seemed to come from nowhere making the floor fall out from under them in what was actually a trapdoor he’d prepared during the time they’d taken to care for the chandelier. Upon hitting the dark, damp floors of the passageways he traversed so often, he heard the last click of the doorway closing once more overhead and set the blonde back down on her feet. Not leaving much room for debate on his current decision, his pulse racing only faster at the moment as he tugged the torch beside him to the side simply to lock the trapdoor into place so no one could follow, he grabbed the woman’s wrist and began pulling her along behind him.
xxxxx“Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair. Down we plunge to the prison of my mind. Down that path into darkness deep as Hell,” he growled more to himself than at the girl, but it wasn’t that he was necessarily blaming her for removing his mask. It had to have been a fluke accident. Even as the voices above were practically chanting about tracking the murderer down, he continued on. Slowing his pace only upon reaching the boat, he stepped on it without hesitation before motioning her to do the same. “Why, you ask, was I bound and chained in this cold and dismal place? Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent face. Hounded out by everyone. Met with hatred everywhere. No kind words from anyone. No compassion anywhere... Christine, get on. Now that I can’t hide it anymore, especially now that even Giry’s turned against me, I figure it’s time to tell you about the child of the wilderness called the devil’s child that turned into the phantom of the opera. We can’t do it here though without interruptions.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_- Elsewhere... -_-_-_-_-_-_-
xxxxxIt was over. Erik would no longer be able to hide from the world at this rate, and Lord only knew what his intentions were for Christine. Ignoring Andre and Firmin speaking of being ruined, only to see the few policemen declaring that Piangi was indeed alive, she knew she had no choices left. For as much as she had adored and pitied Erik as a child, she also knew how terrifying he could be even before he’d killed Buquet. It was likely that now that he’d been exposed, he may try to go after her for her betrayal by telling them about him. He’d escaped from the traveling fair by using that very fearsome nature after all, so who was to say he wouldn’t do it again. Lord only knew what he’d planned for poor Christine.
xxxxxTaking a deep breath, she quickly grabbed Raoul’s arm. “Monsieur le Vicomte, come with me!”
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor. xxxGrasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garrish light of day, xxxturn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light and listen to the music of the night."
Mayah Playah
My general idea of his scarring albeit more condensed to that part of his face and probably a smidge less prominent since he’s older now than having been burned as a child. I apologize if my description doesn’t quite fit well enough to it, but I tried. I also figured that parts hidden by his clothes would also have been burned, but I figured not as badly... maybe?
And I’m glad you liked the idea. 4laugh And it’d be like she’s also trying to help him modernize it a bit for the times so it wouldn’t be dependent on the organ.
Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2020 4:04 am
♫Christine Daaé♫
Little Lottie dreams of everything...
It was horrible. Simply horrible.
Christine had lived in an opera house for long enough to see what happens to the flesh when it was burned, but this was something else entirely. His skin had stretched and pulled, tight to his bones where it had been kissed by flames. It had long since faded to a pinkish color, but she knew it must have been so much worse when it was new. So many questions were finally answered in her head and she now understood why he'd kept this part of himself hidden from even her. And yet, she did not feel disgusted by his scar. She didn't feel pity either. She looked at him, pure and whole, and felt guilt and anger that it was her fault he'd been forced into exposure. How could she do this to him? Accidental or not, she had hurt the one she loved.
All these thoughts rushed through Christine's head in the mere seconds between the mask falling and his quick movements. She whirled her head around as she heard more shots ring out, Raoul's voice screaming "No! Don't shoot! Christine!" in between the bullets. Her dress caught her leg when he lifted her. She held tight to the mask, too shocked to even try to fight against him. Before anyone could make their way onto the stage and to the two, they were gone and through a trapdoor.
She was still struggling to get her bearings when he put her down and started to drag her through the tunnel. Her dress had torn in their flight, but she paid little attention to it, only absently noticing the cold. She grunted when he moved too fast, digging her heels into the ground once or twice in an attempt to slow him down. He was pulling her too hard and she was just so confused by the events that had just occurred. "Master! Please!" She cried out, her wrist aching in his grip. He probably didn't even realize that he'd grabbed her hurt one. Honestly, her adrenaline was pumping so hard that she'd hardly noticed it either.
They stopped by the boat and she felt her heart break at his words. She'd known he'd been cast down from the world for a horrible reason, but for his face? No wonder he didn't trust the world. Her eyes softened as she gazed at him, feeling a tear roll down her cheek out of sheer compassion for the poor man's plight. Christine glanced behind them at the sound of the chanting that strove to follow them, then looked back at him. She nodded, then stepped onto the boat and waited a moment to regain her balance, her hand that held the mask drawing up to his chest to steady herself. "The truth of it? No more vague answers, Master." Her hand fell to her side and she looked up at him fully, not avoiding the scar whatsoever.
✸✸✸✸✸✸✸ Elsewhere... ✸✸✸✸✸✸✸
Raoul ran from the box as quickly as he could, screaming at the soldiers not to shoot, but the two had already disappeared by the time he reached the stage. He looked around frantically until his eyes landed on the one person he knew could help him: Giry. She grabbed him and he nodded, allowing her to lead him away. "I cannot trust you, but I know that I must. Take me to them!" He commanded, fists tight, and a nearly insane rage to his eye.
...and of nothing.
Dantes_river
No no, I get it. Thanks for the reference pic, that really helps. I figured that was the case since he kept himself pretty covered up when they were in the caverns before.
If he's already written Beneath a Moonless Sky before they've tried anything, she might have to smack him around a little. "Do I look like I'd ever beg you?" kinda thing.
I'm trying to figure out how we can get that little thing with him saying she only has an eternity of his face to look forward to and her commenting on how his face doesn't scare her but his soul does. It's such a lovely line and you made him so niiiiice that she can't even say it.
"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.xxx Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
xxxxxGiving a slight nod as Christine stepped onto the boat, he gave a good shove off of the small pathway before steering the boat down the dark paths where torches had been lighting up along the way. “Erik,” he mildly corrected in a soft voice before glancing down at the blonde. She probably hadn’t heard it past the sloshing water and eruption of flames lighting the torches scattered around the darkness, but he wasn’t really counting on it anyways seeing as he’d said it knowing the sounds of the surrounding area would likely drown him out at such a low volume.
xxxxx“You’ll get answers, my dear, though some of it may sound vague. Only the truth since it appears that the cat is now out of the bag,” he answered loud enough for her to hear after some debate over what all he should say, his arm shifting the oar in order to bring the boat to a stop near his lair once again.
xxxxxThe trip seemed shorter this time than the first had, and quite honestly, he still wasn’t sure of how he should start off. Maybe he should start with a general idea of the traveling fair to break some of the ice. “I honestly don’t know how to tell people anything about myself. My current home in which we’re standing is the equivalent of my whole life. Merely thinking back on it, I once felt as if I shouldn’t have said or done anything to draw attention to myself. Maybe if I’d just blended into the background, things might not have ended up as it had. As I got older, however, I thought it was stupid I’d ever let that cross my mind,” he admitted whilst helping Christine onto the shore lit up in candlelight. Stepping up onto the shore himself, he subconsciously turned a bit so the scar couldn’t be seen by the girl anymore albeit he motioned her to follow him over to the seat she’d remember having seen him in when she’d awakened here the last time. “As a start, I should probably say that I started life in the intricate and extravagant lifestyle of a traveling fair. Some even called us gypsies. We were always moving, never staying long in one spot. On rare occasions, we’d pick up someone new or lose them, but it was to be expected. Nothing was ever really expected to be permanent. There were plenty of things done on a whim such as the destination of our travels, and then there were things that were actually set in stone such as eating and sleeping. Just be warned that it may not be as well said as my operas have been written, but we’re a little short on time.”
xxxxxSighing softly, he took a short walk over to his makeshift room just to retrieve the little music box with the monkey wearing Persian robes and return to her once again. After giving it a few gentle strokes on top of its head, he set it tenderly back down albeit still near. It was his one sense of comfort from the very start of his life after all so it may, in his highest of hopes, help him speak of his past.
xxxxxThe sorrow and vulnerability he’d shown not long ago seemed to have grown relatively cold now that the portcullis had finished closing. “Remember, Christine, this is what you wanted to see, what you wanted to know, and now you cannot ever be free. Stranger than you dreamt it? Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly, secretly... I can only believe that fear can turn to love. You’’ll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcass, who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly, secretly...” He paused as his gaze landed back on the blonde before him before glancing back at the little monkey. Great. Now it felt like the monkey was judging him with those eyes. He took a second to tap the little cymbals in the monkeys hands before nodding slightly.
xxxxx“My parents were performers, and in a world full of oddities, you’d think they’d be intrigued by and accepting of their bizarre son. I suppose I was too strange even for them, and that fate which condemns me to wallow in blood has also denied me the joys of the flesh. This face, the infection which poisons all love. This face, which earned a mother’s fear and loathing. A mask, my first unfeeling scrap clothing... I’ve worn a mask for the entirety of my life, even before it was permanently marred. Madame Giry has already told you some things about me I’m sure: scholar, architect, musician, composer, inventor, magician... They’re things that simply came easy to me even as a child.” He paused again so he could gingerly start pulling his sleeve up a little ways so she’d see the slightly less severe burn marks left from the past.
xxxxx“I apparently had far too many dangerous thoughts and ideas which eventually turned into them thinking I was possessed by the devil himself. I received a baptism by fire one night, and when that neither cleansed nor killed me, they locked me up in a cage to protect the world from the evil that is me. In one of the towns we stopped at, some children found me in the cage, and somehow that ended up with my being some kind of freakish attraction people would pay to see. Madame Giry would be the one to hide me beneath the opera house when I escaped from my cage in this city,” he continued, his fingers making a slight motion in front of him simply for the fires on the candles to flicker wildly when speaking of being set on fire. This ended up with another pause as he bit his bottom lip for a moment. Finishing straightening his sleeve back out, he briefly pointed to his arm then his face before continuing on towards the ending. “This was still healing when I made that escape so it was pretty painful, but I’d had enough of being called the spawn of pure evil by even my own mother. Madame Giry helped tend to it for a while, sneaking me up to the surface for a bath often to avoid infection setting in. And then she started showing the same fear that I had escaped from. I began hiding in shadow from even her. I can’t really remember when I made that switch between the Devil’s Child and the Phantom of the Opera. I just vaguely remember Madame Giry making references to the opera ghost causing mischief when things weren’t going a certain way, and it clicking that she was talking about my trying to keep the theater prosperous by getting the managers to do certain things. Then I found you, and it’s like a voice told me that it was you I was actually waiting for. You were the one I needed.”
xxxxx“I believe my sense of touch is somewhat damaged. I can’t tell temperature though I can’t be certain as to that being prior to or after becoming a human torch. I don’t recall differences in temperature at all so I could just be even freakier than I originally thought and have my body temperature change with the environment I’m in,” he added almost as if an afterthought as he removed his cloak from the coat rack and held it out to her.
-_-_-_-_- Elsewhere... -_-_-_-_-
xxxxx“Monsieur le Vicomte, I know where they are. You must believe me, for it was I who hid him from the cruelties of the world. Just remember to keep your hand at the level of your eyes,” she spoke hastily with a hint of sorrow as she collected up a candle from her original meeting room with Erik and struck a match just to light it. It was indeed time that she took the man to where the boy she’d watched, in a way, grow up into a fine young man. As much as she had grown fond of him when she’d only see him occasionally creeping out of the darkness with the new mask she’d given him for his growing up on her, she had found the fear in which had earned him his stage name: The Devil’s Child. He had figured it out at some point and became a mere voice in the shadows. Now, he’d never come to her again and she feared now that his secret had been exposed, not to mention his killing Buquet, he would truly become the monster he’d been labeled as a long time ago.
xxxxxOnly just hearing Raoul question why he needed to keep his hand at the level of his eyes, Giry simply turned her gaze towards him. “The Punjab lasso, monsieur. First Buquet, and now Piangi. Now, come with me, monsieur, before we are too late,” she answered before heading onwards to a flight of stairs with various cobwebs hung above it. Motioning him to continue following her, she headed down the dark, damp stairwell just to stop at the very bottom and glance warily around. Of course, she was startled by a bunch of rats passing through, but she quickly recovered since Erik hadn’t come jumping out of the shadows to kill her yet. “He lives across the lake, monsieur. This is as far as I dare go. Just remember, your hand at the level of your eyes.”
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor. xxxGrasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garrish light of day, xxxturn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light and listen to the music of the night."
Mayah Playah
I could see that. It’d be hilarious.
I also figured that the picture might add some creative description between the two of us.
Maybe I can inspire it through this. I shall give it my best to get it in there with a bam! emotion_dowant
Dark Erik emerges with a placement of the previously discarded Stranger Than You Dreamt It.
Good? Bad? emotion_kirakira I figure it’s a good way to portray the distortion within him... After getting inspired by the soundtrack to Phantom Of the Opera.
Posted: Fri Jun 26, 2020 2:59 am
♫Christine Daaé♫
Little Lottie dreams of everything...
She didn't hear his correction, and how even could she with all the sounds surrounding them and her budding PTSD, but she knew he had spoken as her eyes had remained on his face for nearly all this while. She sat on the pillows as she had done so long ago and, as she no longer felt the need to let her eyes wander the surroundings having been here before, kept her gaze on the man who captured and yet evaded her. He promised her answers, as he always had, and she felt a deep certainty that "someday" was finally today. She would understand, at least she hoped she would, how the so-called Phantom of the Opera arose from the ashes of a shattered face and created a world for himself, befitting a broken man like himself.
Christine didn't realize she was shivering until they finally stopped. The splashing water beneath the boat and her sweat soaked through to her clothing. Her fingers clutched one of the pillows and she thought for a moment about bringing it with her. She didn't know if she felt in danger or what, she only knew that something uncertain in her stomach was bringing her discomfort. Absently, she berated herself for thinking to take a pillow for protection. It would only protect against other pillows. He took her hand and helped her to stand and she stepped onto the shore. Her heels caught the rocks a bit, but she didn't lose her balance and stood fairly upright as he began to speak. She knew he had much to say and remained silent as he unleashed years of pain unto her, revealing the truth of his dark and tragic past.
He attempted to hide his face from her, but it was no use. She had already seen it and could no longer ignore it. She could understand why. She could even understand why he went from doing anything to be a wallflower to fighting to be heard. He had ensured that she would do the exact same by taking her under his wing. She thought for a moment to herself, wondering if any of their feelings for each other had been intentional. Likely not, seeing as she was only a fifteen-year-old child when they first met. Christine scolded herself for even entertaining that thought and followed him to the seat. She folded her hands in her lap, discretely moving her dress to cover her legs and praying he would remember how easy it was for her to get cold, especially in a wet dress.
He spoke of his childhood as a traveling gypsy, a lifestyle that Christine was shocked to realize that she could completely understand having grown up with a famous musician for a father. She watched him as he left her and returned with a music box. It was rather startling to look at, an archaic-looking thing with a monkey in robes with cymbals on it, but he touched it so carefully that she could see the fondness he felt for it. She moved a little closer to him, waiting patiently for him to continue.
Christine did not let herself heave a sigh as he reminded her that she had wanted to know all of this. She knew what the stakes were when she first started asking these questions of her master. She swallowed hard and clenched her jaw. She couldn't bear to sit and listen to him degrade himself like that, although his insistence that she could now never be free was a little concerning. "Master," she tried to start, stopped by his continuation. After all, she'd promised to listen long before this whole mess had begun and she was going to listen now.
His story was more tragic than she'd ever thought it could be and her limit of understanding had far since been surpassed. While she had lost her family early, she'd always known that they loved her unconditionally and that they welcomed her gifts. His parents attempted to burn it out of him. Christine felt the tears dripping down her cheeks at his tale. The poor child, punished merely for being brilliant. In the back of her mind, she remembered that this was only one side of the story. Yet, it was the only one that counted right then. After all, it's difficult to contend with a victim when their burns were on display before you. She inhaled sharply at the sight of the scars, little in comparison to his face but still very painful-looking.
So, Madame Giry really did save him. She clenched her fists, her temper flaring briefly as she silently hoped the monsters who had harmed him were dead already. Fortunately, Giry had managed to get him to safety before he was killed, even saving him from infection after. Although Giry turned on him later, Christine was grateful that she'd helped him at all. She looked away when he commented on finding her, cheeks burning from the recognition and her head and heart disagreeing on the right thing to say. She turned back to him and accepted the cloak that he held out to her, grateful for something to warm herself back up. She pulled it around herself, mirroring her exact actions from the last time she'd been in these caverns. The bitter realization was not lost on her.
Christine bowed her head. "There are few words I can say to you, as I know nothing anyone can ever say can take away from your pain. Everything... I can only reassure that you were never the monster. Those fools were. The whole lot of them." She lifted her chin to look at him, their closeness and the lack of the mask leaving them both naked before the other. Her eyes were drawn to the scar briefly and she didn't deny herself the glance but returned her gaze to his eyes once more. "I don't even know your real name," she whispered, then chuckled bitterly and looked away. "All this time, and I don't think I ever even thought to ask. What a self-centered child I have been. Hardly anyone's saving grace." She commented. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, opening them once more as she exhaled. Their last visit, she had not wanted to leave. Now she knew that she needed to. He had left a mess in his wake and she could fix it if he let her out. Whether or not he would still remained to be seen.
✸✸✸✸✸✸✸ Elsewhere... ✸✸✸✸✸✸✸
He nodded and lifted his fist to the level of his eyes, although he was confused. "I don't understand. What good can this possibly do to protect me from him?" he asked, but she quickly answered him. The Punjab Lasso. Well, that just sounded made up. He didn't have the time to argue and followed her, although he did feel ridiculous for keeping his hand up in the air like an idiot trying to punch the sky. His mind raced as they rushed down the stairs. That beast- that thing - was definitely taking advantage of his Christine down below as they ran. He would save her! His future wife, the future mother of his children, the beautiful woman who would fill his days with joy and love as he wanted, he was going to save her! And if the monster perished in the process, so be it.
Stopping close behind the woman, he looked down a narrow hallway at the bottom of the stairs and then back to Giry. She was abandoning him to find Christine himself. What was there to be afraid of? He was just an animal, just like any other wild creature he hunted in the woods, and he would die like one. "Thank you, Madame Giry. Your assistance will never be forgotten." He nodded, then began to follow the rats to the water source. He only hoped he could get there fast enough.
...and of nothing.
Dantes_river
Oof, we might get there yet. He's been through it, man. I always forget, and your backstory for him is just messing me up.
I really like it. There's so much potential for adding to it and if we keep him angry, with the added stuff that Raoul coerced Christine into, he might become a two-time murderer yet.
And now we even have an opening to get her changed into that iconic white wedding dress,
"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.xxx Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
xxxxxChristine seemed to have been containing her every word as he spoke, her only slipping up once to use the name she used most often to speak to him. He didn’t dare stare her down for long to judge his tale. It’s not like pity for his dark history would help any at this point. The theater, his sanctuary and home for the longest time, was falling apart and he couldn’t stop it. The world knew he was as mortal a man as anyone else, and for those like Madame Giry that remembered the traveling fair, they knew that he was still alive.
xxxxxAs she spoke, however, his cold gaze turned to her once more and watched her carefully. She was right though. No amount of words would be able to heal the wounds of the past. All of the arguments of beauty being what was on the inside only seemed like an excuse when you knew you were ugly inside and out. Even worse was the exchange of you not being the monster, but the other person or persons being the true monster. Somehow, hearing it from Christine made it seem at least a little true. At least it did for that brief moment before reversing direction again.
xxxxxAt the mention of not knowing his real name, however, he glanced back at the monkey on the music box staring at him. Perhaps he should tell her again now that he’d told her that she’d never be free because she knew too much. And then she was calling herself a self-centered child. Well, that was a load of crap. Giving the little monkey a second brief petting with his finger, he gave a light scoff.
xxxxx“It’s more likely that the more you asked to know of me yet being denied that knowledge until a later date had you already knowing that I wouldn’t give it to you then. This wasn’t how I wanted the truth to come out,” he responded though his gaze eventually shifted elsewhere. That had been his ideal plan, no doubt, but he’d been forced to keep making stuff up as he went along with the way life was playing out. Would Madame Giry feel this was her fault? That she’d been protecting a monster all along? “You’re the first person since Madame Giry that I thought I could trust. You don’t know how many times I wanted to step out of shadow and just talk to you. I’ve always been skittish because I feared you’d end up like everyone else, fearing that creature hiding in the shadows. It’s as I said in the cemetery: I don’t want you to be afraid of me. And you said you never would fear me, but I’m not sure how that’ll hold up now. You’ve already turned against me once. Who’s to say you won’t do it again? True, you haven’t told anyone how to get here to me, but now it’s only a matter of time. That’s why you can never be free now.”
xxxxxBrushing some of his hair over the scar, a futile attempt really, he turned back to face her directly. “Erik. My mother gave me the name Erik. You know what they say about the name though, yes? Eric with a C is sweet as can be, but an Erik with a K is evil as sin. I suppose I merely proved that to be the correct assumption,” he finally stated, the nakedness of not wearing his mask starting to seem to get to him again as he once again tried covering the left side of his face with his hair. Much like the first time, however, it only appeared to frustrate him more. This ended up with a low growl towards how futile his effort was. “I wasn’t joking either, Christine. You know too much about me now, and I don’t know if you’re still going to remain loyal to me. You cannot ever be free.”
-_-_-_-_- Elsewhere... -_-_-_-_-
xxxxxMadame Giry had merely nodded before turning back to the stairs. The Lord only knew how much she prayed that nothing irreparably bad would happen in that world of unending night. Raoul had probably been a little more than doubtful of her warning about the Punjab Lasso before he left her side, but she did try to keep him from ending up a victim to what Buquet had once been scaring several of the chorus girls with: a magical lasso wielded by a humanoid creature with skin like yellow parchment. Oh what had she done?
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor. xxxGrasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garrish light of day, xxxturn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light and listen to the music of the night."
Mayah Playah
Perhaps. lol
And I’m leaving that as the end for Giry’s posting... for now.
And I also realized I made an error in the reveal post about which side of his face the scar was on so I fixed it.
Two questions: Are you going to have Raoul fall into the water trap that has the gate that tries to make him drown then have him escape on the other side of the gate (opposite side of the lair) where he’ll then confront Erik through the portcullis? Or are you not adding that in there?
And am I correct in assuming the painting was done by Dragon, or is it Phoebe’s painting?
Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2020 6:33 pm
♫Christine Daaé♫
Little Lottie dreams of everything...
It seemed that every time Madame Giry's name was spoken, she was being discredited as a valuable ally. Christine hid her amused scoff at this thought, wondering briefly why she'd ever looked up to the elder woman who seemed to make so many mistakes. Actually, it made sense a little now that she thought about it. Growing up meant seeing the truth of people, the real humanity of them. Madame Giry wasn't all-knowing and her master wasn't all-powerful. They were people, just like her, and made mistakes just as much as she did. Well, maybe not just as much, but mistakes were made nonetheless.
Christine reached up to push her blonde curls from her face, strands having long since escaped her chignon. He was bringing it up again, her "betrayal" if it could even be called that. Part of her wanted to understand him. She wanted to understand that leaving him as she had was a betrayal. However, her logic refused to let her. She had every reason to pull away from him after having witnessed his murder of Buquet. Christine crossed her arms and leaned back a little, looking away. "I was never afraid of you," she insisted after he spoke. She sighed softly before returning her gaze to him, shocked as he looked at her head-on.
"Erik." She repeated quietly, her plush lips curving around the name as if it were a song in itself. She smiled a little to herself, the name bringing her joy. He trusted her enough to tell her, that had to be something. Her smile fell at his comment, shaking her head and fighting the urge to roll her eyes as well. "I don't believe you're evil. A little misguided, maybe, but not evil." She shrugged, adjusting the cloak around her a bit, but then she froze. He wasn't kidding. She wasn't able to leave.
Immediately, Christine raised her voice to protest, only for it to fail at the sight of his poor attempts to cover his scar. "Enough. There's no point in trying to hide it." She reached up to touch his hair, hesitating a little before she gathered her courage and gently moved it from his eyes. She inhaled sharply at the sight of the scar once more, but her shock was no longer present. Instead, she felt a surge of compassion for the man before her. That is until he insisted once more that she was never to leave. Christine steeled her jaw, her hand falling to her lap and the cloak slipping from her shoulders as she did. Her dress was cold and heavy, but she hardly felt it anymore. However, that might have been hypothermia. Either way.
"I know you know that I cannot stay here. The only way I can fix anything is to return. And besides, even if I wanted to stay, they would find me." She shook her head and stood, leaving the cloak where she'd sat as she moved to pace in front of him. "Do you really think that Madame Giry will keep silent about where we are? If it's possible that she has even an inkling of knowledge about where you live, she will tell them. For all we know, they could be on their way to "save" me right now." She stopped in front of him, looking at him. "I ran away before because I believed you had gone too far, not because I was not faithful. Keeping me captive is not how you foster loyalty."
She fell silent once more, her defiant nature fighting to make her say more. She crossed her arms and turned away, closing her eyes for a brief moment to collect her thoughts. "I haven't felt this conflicted since Raoul asked me to-" She cut her mutter off short, shaking her head once more and looking back to him, eyes blazing with a fire of passion and desire and anger as she stared at him directly. "I will not stay. I will not spend eternity down in these depths, waiting for you to decide whether or not I will betray you." Her last words caught in her throat and she turned her back to him, closing her eyes again and trying to force herself to calm down and breathe. Her compassion was waning. As much as she wanted to pity him, he was making it very difficult to feel anything but frustrated with him.
✸✸✸✸✸✸✸ Elsewhere... ✸✸✸✸✸✸✸
Raoul stumbled over a step, gripping the wall tightly and pausing for a moment. He'd long since discarded his jacket and was now wandering around in the cold, becoming damper and damper with each movement of the underwater lake.. Even his boots might not last, given how much he was slipping. He tried to remember to keep his hand at the level of his eyes, but keeping it up and also gripping the wall was bringing more annoyance than a help. He looked around, eyes falling to the waterways beside the slippery little pathway he was struggling down. Wouldn't it be easier just to swim? He looked down at himself, then sat to tighten his boots around his calves and fold his sleeves up to his elbows. These were a gift, he couldn't lose them. He then stood, nodded to himself again, and then jumped into the water.
...and of nothing.
Dantes_river
Alright, so I couldn't get the "pity comes too late" setup to flow, but the "turn around and face your fate" is set to go. I'm thinking that he gives her the dress because hers is still wet and very cold, she calms down enough to talk to him about the Raoul thing, and then just as he gets pissed, Raoul appears. Sound good or do you want to do something else?
Here's the thing: I like the portcullis but I don't like the water trap, so I'm gonna mix the stage and the movie versions together in the next post. Right now, he's just bumbling through the little maze down there because he's just not smart.
It's Phoebe's painting but heavily inspired by his relationship with Dragon.
"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.xxx Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
xxxxxHe couldn’t contain the few bitter yet amused chuckles at being called misguided rather than evil, but other than that, he’d remained rather quiet. That is until she’d brought her hand up to move his hair back out of his face in which he flinched. It wouldn’t seem to stop bothering him that she now knew it was there. Even him knowing it was forever there bothered him.
xxxxx“It’s not necessarily just for you. I’ve spent most of my life seeing it before putting on my mask, and it still bothers me like it’s some physical manifestation of the evil within,” he grumbled as he watched her begin to pace. She began speaking of fixing things, and how she couldn’t stay down here forever. Oh how wrong she could be. Given the proper wear, she’d be able to survive much as he had all of these years. “Oh I don’t doubt she will tell them. I’ve said it before though: I don’t intend to be caught. You also have to remember, I know this place so much better than they do. I could have them walking in circles like those that entered the labyrinth of mirrors. That was actually pretty fun. Probably the only true fun I had as a child aside from giving... the firebreather of the fair a method of changing the color of his flames in order to keep the crowd‘s attention. He was my father, and why I‘m permanently scarred.”
xxxxxInhaling deeply before shaking his head slightly, he crossed his arms over his chest and raised his good eyebrow at her. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already told you that you don’t have the full picture of what happened, and that I was just trying to protect you. One of the things you might not know, is I’d been trying to play nice about getting Joseph Buquet removed from here for some time. My last resort that was only intended to scare him away, however, ended up with his death. Trust me, honey, killing him was not my intention,” he retorted with a growl only to make a slight rotation of his hand at shoulder level only to stop as it’d reached his face for a third time. “If I had to say, I’d have to say that pity came too late. Turn around and face your fate, an eternity of this before your eyes. An eternity of never-ending night...”
xxxxxHis irritation seemed to die out a bit at both neither seeming to realize she was shaking again and her mentioning some confliction from Raoul asking her something. Sighing softly, he vaguely gestured her to follow him over to a slightly smaller room than what he’d made his bedroom only to pull back the curtain so an off-white dress could be seen inside. Such was the color when given only candlelight to see by no matter how many there were.
xxxxx“Change. I don’t want you dying of hypothermia down here because your clothes are wet. Considering how this room’s built, it should contain heat better than out here does much like my own room. And before you ask, I’ve always given you privacy to dress so don’t worry about me peeking. Madame Giry was always giving me a cue as to when you were changing so I could be certain of that. Aside from warning the upper tiers of the theater not to disobey me, she still had some good qualities I had thought she’d follow through on.”
xxxxxWhen she finally seemed to give in and opt to follow through on getting changed, he closed the curtain fully behind her only to take his music box back to his room and set it at the head of the bed. He returned swiftly though simply to lean back against the stone wall a few feet away though his gaze was focused on the murky waters of the lake. He’d ask her what Raoul had made her feel conflicted about, but part of him feared she’d avoid telling him as he had her for so long. She had ended up disobeying his instructions before, and that backfired horribly. “Talk to me about it. Please. I was concerned about your well-being when you weren’t here.”
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor. xxxGrasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garrish light of day, xxxturn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light and listen to the music of the night."
Mayah Playah
Muahaha! I managed to get it in there, but with a few minor changes in wording to adjust to the setting. I even kept it in tune, and added a line because I realized as I was listening to the soundtrack that the lines of “pity comes too late. Turn around and face your fate, an eternity of this before your eyes” actually sounds like angry lines to Music of the Night. lol
I apparently like to readjust things like the previously discarded Stranger Than You Dreamt It being reinserted nearer the end, and minor wordplay with the original songs. emotion_facepalm
It’s fine about the water trap too. I was just curious about if you were going to use it or not. I was just meh about it too, but I remembered it when Raoul actually started down the path to find Erik’s lair. By the way, calling it his lair makes me snicker every single time ‘cause people see him as evil so it’d be his “evil lair”.
And I also figured that it was actually Phoebe’s work, but there was that nagging question in the back of my head asking if Phoebe had perhaps taught a little bit of painting to Dragon during what time they had together which was longer than Lurtz had with him. Then I also remembered Dragon’s greatest artistic skill he ever showed was a mud pie from construction mud when Lurtz was fixing a giant hole in his bedroom closet.
Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2020 6:15 pm
♫Christine Daaé♫
Little Lottie dreams of everything...
Christine tensed as he spoke, her back to him and her fists clenched. She was angry, no doubt, and afraid. No, not of him, despite how much he seemed to wish it to be so, but of never seeing the real world again. She couldn't live down in these depths as he did. He talked about it like it was an adventure that they two could have, as though they could live down here for the rest of their lives and coexist peacefully without ever wandering back to the world above. She looked down at her flesh, the goosebumps risen from the cold and her pale skin already losing what flush it had from their race down below. She would probably get even paler from living down here. Oh God. No, no she couldn't. This wasn't fun for her. It hadn't been fun for a very long time and he was insane if he thought it could ever be.
Christine spun to face him, arms crossed and expression serious and angry. She shook her head and tensed her jaw. For a moment, her eyes flashed with a hatred that she'd never felt towards him before. Maybe she'd pushed things along into this situation, but he wasn't blameless. She glanced away, collecting her thoughts before looking directly back at him. Her eyes blazed with fire, not unlike the one that had so scarred his skin. "Forgive me, monsieur, but I have never known you to play nice." She sneered, then inhaled sharply and gestured vaguely towards him. "This haunted face holds no horror for me now." Christine insisted, taking a step towards him and allowing a measure of sadness to creep onto her face. "It's in your soul that the true distortion lies, Erik." She shook her head once more, then closed her eyes and breathed in and out a few times to force herself to calm down. She was a mess of emotion, all different shades of angry and hurt and depressed and afraid.
Christine rubbed her upper arms in an attempt to warm herself, looking back to him as he stood and led her over to a small room. She followed cautiously, peering behind the curtain to see a white dress on a mannequin. She paused, looking at it and then back to him. "A wedding dress? Really? Why do you have a weddng dress?" He wasn't intending on having her marry him, was she? She shivered once more in her costume and contemplated for a moment whether it was better to get married or die of hypothermia. It depressed her greatly to know that she really had to think about it. Christine finally sighed and nodded, walking into the little room. She stopped before entering, turning to him and looking just over his shoulder with a reluctant expression. "I never... I never thought you peeked. Hoped once or twice, maybe, but I never thought you would." She looked down, then nodded as though confirming something to herself and ducked inside, her cheeks feeling warm as she did. Ugh, screw that. She was still angry at him. Now wasn't the time to let her feelings for him pop up again.
Christine began to remove her costume, the laces bound very tightly behind her. It wasn't exactly easy, but it wasn't her first time getting stuck in a costume by herself so she knew she could worm her way out. She managed to undo the knots that kept it closed and took a moment to breathe before starting to unlace the back. There were still the petticoats, the camisole, the corset, the chemise, so much left to handle. Being a woman was just horrible. The heavy dress fell to the ground with a wet plop. She grimaced, then stepped out of it and kicked at it until it rolled over to the side in a damp, uneven heap. Her fingers were nearly frozen, but she was grateful that it was a little warmer in there than outside. As she started to untie the first of the petticoats, she heard him speak to her. She could pretend like she didn't know what he was talking about and honestly, she wanted to. However, she knew that he knew she wasn't stupid. Christine sighed heavily and removed the first petticoat, tossing it onto the dress and biting her lip. She couldn't just keep this to herself. It was eating her up enough as it was.
She licked her lips and cleared her throat. "It was nice at Raoul's home. I was surrounded by beautiful things, he denied me nothing, servants waited on me hand and foot. I really had nothing to complain about." She removed the second and third petticoats, her camisole damp to the touch. Hopefully, there were underthings with the wedding dress. She raised a hand to touch her hair, looking into a mirror at herself. She could fix her hair after. Right now, she needed to work on getting dressed and gathering the nerve to tell him the truth. It was probably best that she was speaking while she was unable to see him.
"However, Raoul was a little persistent about a few things. We're supposed to be engaged and I've never really known any engaged people so I just followed his lead. I assumed he knew what we were supposed to be doing, although it did make me a little... uncomfortable." She stopped, both in her work and in her speaking. She didn't know how to tell him the full extent, halfway hoping that, by some miracle, he would just know about it and she wouldn't have to admit it. She swallowed hard, then reached behind herself and started to unlace the corset. Once it and her chemise were set aside, she started to remove the dress from the mannequin. Getting dressed alone was somehow much faster than getting undressed, and she was already in the dry chemise, stockings, corset, and camisole before too long had passed. She didn't speak outside of commenting on how difficult it was to put a corset on alone, and it wasn't until she held the dress in her hands that she finally gathered her remaining courage. "He didn't force me to do anything. I want you to know that. I was living in his home and had already agreed to marry him, I was doing what you're supposed to do when you're going to marry someone. It's what you're supposed to do." Her voice grew thick and she felt tears p***k at her eyes. She raised a hand to her eyes, closing them tight and trying to force the tears back down. Why did she feel like this? Raoul didn't force her to do it, right? He was persistent, yes, but he didn't hold her down. She could have left whenever she wanted to. So why didn't she? "I couldn't just leave," she muttered. "He did so much for me, he was so kind to me, it was the least I could do. I owed him. I-" She stopped again, then cleared her throat and began to pull on the dress. Christine tied the laces of the dress and slipped on the shoes, her hands moving up to take her thick curls out of the messy chignon and allow them to be free. Once her hair was down, she moved the curtain back and stepped out of the little room. Her tears were gone, but she could still feel them threatening to return. Her nose was pink, although she couldn't tell if it was from crying or from the cold. Possibly both.
"How do I look?" She asked, wanting nothing more than to change the subject. She was a lovely sight to see, even with a red nose and messy hair. The dress fit her very well, as she suspected it was made to measure. It was entirely likely that Madame Giry had given him her measurements and that was how he got such a perfect fit. She squirmed a little. Well, not perfect. The neckline was a bit of wishful thinking, but she could work with it. Christine ran a hand over her hair, fingers running through the long curls before her hand fell to her side. "I wonder if you have a veil to cover my rat's nest hair," Christine joked, trying to laugh away the confession from before. She didn't know why the entire ordeal made her feel the way that it did, why she felt more safe and treasured with Erik, an actual murderer, over Raoul, the man who wanted to marry her. Either way, maybe staying down her wouldn't be that bad if it meant she didn't have to actually marry Raoul.
...and of nothing.
Dantes_river
Oof, I love this. So very much. It's perfect and I love how sassy he is. Now all we need is for them to see each other as equals trapped in cruddy circumstances and we have a recipe for a happy ending.
I'm gonna leave him swimming for now and hold off on his appearance until Erik is good and mad. Christine is going to try and calm him down again, but that'll be when Raoul pops up. "Evil lair" does sound a bit like "Dexter's Laboratory", tbh. This is where I concoct brilliant schemes as the incredible evil genius I am!
Phoebe did actually try to teach Dragon how to paint, but it just did not go well. There's still a framed stick figure painting in his studio with Dragon's name on it. I completely forgot about that until you reminded me and I'm not sure it wasn't unintentionally blocked out emotion_facepalm
Also, I'm so sorry I disappeared for a week. Life got in the way and I just couldn't wrap my head around things, but I'm back and ready to get this thing back on track if you're willing to forgive me for being stupid.
"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.xxx Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
xxxxxGiving a soft snort at her stating she’d never known him to play nice. If she thought she’d never seen him be nice, then she’d hate to know that she hadn’t seen him be mean then too. Then again, Christine was raised in a civilized society whilst he was raised amongst the outsiders to their fanciful world. If not for years of observation and what few lessons he got from Giry in the beginning, he’d likely still find his old way of dressing and behaving was perfectly acceptable. He wasn’t going to say that though. He didn’t even have to say it. She was a beautiful, proper Swede, and he was a mere mutt of the strangest parts of all cultures where they lived closer to the law of nature: survival of the fittest. Even worse, he was distorted from the inside out and now even she could see it.
xxxxxHer questioning his having the wedding dress had simply earned her a pointed look, but no real verbal response. It wasn’t quite that important what kind of dress it was so long as it’d keep her from dying. Had there been a purpose for it? He’d hoped that perhaps things may come to a beautiful ending like in those little fairytales though he’d never wanted it to go so horribly wrong first. He even felt a little iffy about certain parts of it, but things had gone awry and things simply weren’t going his way.
xxxxxHer comment on hoping once or twice he’d peeked in on her getting dressed made his face ignite into flames. Weren’t girls supposed to be grateful or happy about boys not peeping on them when getting changed? He was pretty sure Madame Giry had said that such uncouth behavior was frowned upon in proper society, and yet here she was stating that she’d had the hopes that he had done it!
xxxxxBy the time he’d have calmed his rapidly beating heart from hearing that, she’d be telling him of how nice Raoul’s home had been. That part was no real surprise. The Viscount de Chagny could give her so much, and all he really had was a world of unending night. Gently touching the scarring near his eye, part of him asked if he was just ruining her life at this point. She could still live a happy life on the surface with a normal man, and they’d be able to have beautiful children together. Unfortunately, her comment about Raoul’s persistence at some things snapped him out of that thought and made him narrow his eyes.
xxxxxThe more she spoke of her time with the man, the more he began to bristle. No matter how she attempted to brush it off, it only just drew out more and more of his hate and anger towards the man. That’s it. He’d played nice with Raoul for her sake, but this man just knew what specific buttons to push with him simply to piss him off. Erik had let him push them for some time now merely for his angel’s sake, but at this particular moment, it was as if Raoul had hit the big red button meant to launch nuclear missiles at foreign enemies.
xxxxxAs she drew the curtain back open, he shifted his gaze back towards her just as he was lowering his hand back down from his face. Peeling himself back off of the wall, Erik moved to stand before the girl and gently brush her blonde locks behind her ear then tap her gently under the chin with two fingers. “Magnificent as always, if not more so now than ever before. A little more upset mind you, but quite a bit warmer if I were to say,” he answered somewhat softly, his gaze somewhat unamused by her attempted joke of having a veil for her unruly hair. Whilst he’d normally admonish her for speaking ill of herself even in something of a joke, he was a little more focused on the undertones of what all she’d been telling him. With a brief brush of his thumbs beneath Christine’s red-rimmed eyes, he gave her a stern gaze. “You may say that you’ve never known me to play nice, Christine, but that’s all I’ve ever been. To the civilized world you know, my demeanor may seem somewhat cruel and perhaps even barbaric and childish in a way, but you have to understand, I was a member of the uncivilized portion of the world first. To them, almost anything goes. Unlike them and some others, however, I’m not a complete animal. Some kind of physical manifestation of evil perhaps, but at least I can be cordial.”
xxxxxTaking a moment just to give a curt nod and shift his gaze towards the portcullis, a dark sort of smile crept across his face as he cracked his knuckles. “I’m afraid you’ll have to endure the evil that mankind believed me to be though for when I see the Viscount de Chagny next, he’s going to be a dead man. I was nice to him for your sake before, merely shooing him away like the pest he is, because he was a dear friend from your past. That, however, has changed due to more recent events. Unlike the incident with Buquet, I wholeheartedly intend to kill that which calls himself a gentleman without remorse,” he growled as his dark grin snapped back into a serious expression. Moving over to his desk, he took a moment to put his black gloves on once more. No one liked rope burns after all, and he held no qualms about bringing his magical lasso back out to be put to proper use. Raoul took advantage of Christine, the girl not seeming to realize this notion, and that was unforgivable. Whilst not entirely positive on how the other man would arrive, the man seeming to love acting like a knight in shining armor, he’d be prepared either way. “I definitely refuse to let you return now that you’ve told me that. Part of me would have to say that it is now rejoicing my previous childhood travels through the Middle East. Old skills and their accompaniments can come out of retirement and get put to proper use now.”
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor. xxxGrasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garrish light of day, xxxturn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light and listen to the music of the night."
Mayah Playah
Thank you. I do try. Sometimes it decides to make a few detours, but I do try.
Christine’s attempts at trying to defend Raoul’s actions is only going to piss him off more. It just feeds into the “your lover makes a passionate plea.”
Lol It’s fine.
Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2020 1:06 pm
♫Christine Daaé♫
Little Lottie dreams of everything...
She stood silently as he approached her, her teasing smile fading into a much more apprehensive expression. She closed her eyes as he touched her hair and moved her head to press her hair into his hand. When he tapped her chin, she opened his eyes again and smiled softly at him. No matter how irritated she was and no matter how much she wanted to run back to the surface, it was still lovely to hear him compliment her. Her cheeks turned a pretty rose color and she wanted to reach out and touch him as well. For this brief moment, she wanted to feel the emotions she tried so hard to deny herself since she'd agreed to marry Raoul. Her bare ring finger suddenly burned from the cold as she remembered that she was supposed to marry Raoul. Well, at least she wouldn't have to marry him if she remained down in these depths.
Christine did not wince under his sharp stare, although she did suppress a shiver when his thumb brushed her cheeks. She swallowed hard and felt her spine straighten just a bit under his eyes. He spoke as though he were a beast incapable of self-control, but his behavior at that very moment was proof of the opposite. He was attracted to her, she knew that. Their performance earlier was proof enough of that. A man couldn't touch her the way that he did and not have something dark and lustful hidden deep down under his mask.
And yet, he had not preyed on her while she slept or while she changed. She was freezing and weak from performing on an empty stomach and clearly open to him even after all this time, and yet he still had not tried to take advantage of her. He could deny it all that he wanted, he could insist up and down that he was a monster, but Christine did not and would never agree. Even when he was acting like an ogre, she didn't call him a monster. It was possible that she was just entirely too idealistic. Christine, however, wanted to stay positive rather than putting herself down.
She followed his gaze to the portcullis and then looked back to his face. Ooh. That didn't look good. Concern fell over her features and she hesitantly placed a hand onto his chest. "No. No, please don't do that. Raoul has been incredibly kind to me during this whole mess, and he didn't force me to do anything I didn't consent to." Sure, she did feel pressured into most of the things he asked of her, but she did everything willingly, didn't she? She's the one who removed her clothes and laid back on the bed. Raoul didn't hold her down at any period of time! It wasn't like that! She drew her hand back as he moved away, gaze following him as he did.
"Please!" Christine stepped quickly after him, her hands on his back, and her head bowed. She couldn't let someone die because she didn't keep her mouth shut. "Not again. Please, not again." She clenched her fists, then let her hands fall to her sides and stood straight. "Keep me for as long as you want, never let me return, but please don't kill Raoul. Despite everything, he is the oldest friend that I have and the only person left who remembers my family. Without him, my father will fade into obscurity and my mother's work will be forgotten. I beg of you, Master. Please."
Christine had never thought of herself as prideful in the past. She had needed to set aside a lot of how she felt in order to succeed on the stage with someone like La Carlotta undermining every move of the chorus due to her lover's wandering eye. She'd more than once needed to protect herself against the vengeful attentions of the violent prima donna, and then beg forgiveness with bruises on her arms. She'd suspected this was partly to blame for La Carlotta's downfall. Overall, Christine had needed to set aside her pride for a great many things in the past, but she'd never felt this low before. It was a great burden to beg for Raoul's life when it should have come much easier. What she was begging for, really, was peace. No more death, no more pain. Just peace.
"Erik. Please." She moved to his side to face him, unflinchingly staring at his full face and reaching to take one of his gloved hands. She held tight, eyes brimming with tears that she was afraid to let fall in front of him. "No more. I will stay with you down here for as long as you want me. I'll sing for you and write with you and take care of you for the rest of our lives. All I ask is for no more death. My life has had so much loss already. I couldn't bear much more."
...and of nothing.
Dantes_river
I'm hoping that we can inch him closer and closer to possibly killing Raoul until Christine calms him down with the kiss.
Alright, I'll bring Raoul in on the next post. I do, however, request that we up the adrenaline and piss Raoul off. Maybe Erik holds her? Or something? Just amp up that jealousy "get your hands off my woman" bs.
"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.xxx Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
xxxxxOf course she’d plea for her precious Raoul’s life. He was just oh so kind throughout this whole mess, and could do absolutely no wrong. Ugh. Just thinking those words made him feel somewhat ill much like when he’d agreed with him before the opera had begun.
xxxxx“He was incredibly kind throughout this whole mess? He’s the cause of the entirety of this catastrophe! Before Andre, Firmin, and the Viscount, I had this theater running with a mere note and the minimal amount of poltergeist activity. Now I have to make the world think I’m dead again because I had to go entirely off-script to compensate for their ineptitude. The only good he’s brought with his very existence was in bringing to light something I hadn’t been able to put a label on up until a short while ago. It’s as if his greatest skill is knowing which buttons to push in order to piss me off,” he started off with a soft chuckle, only to give her a sharp look where the golden coloration of his eyes seemed to dance as if it were a freezing flame. His words were true though. If Raoul hadn’t ever entered their lives at this point, they wouldn’t be here with all of this tension. If anything, it’d be more likely that they were meeting each other face-to-face for the first or second time rather than being hunted down like an animal.
xxxxxSighing heavily, his gaze seemed to fall a bit and he curled his fingers around the fair haired Christine’s hand holding his. “Don’t defend him, Christine. He’s far more vile than I am, and he’s why I’ve exposed myself as something horrible even though I never wanted you to see me that way,” he breathed out simply to gently kiss her on top of the head. “He used you, my dear, in a way that is unforgivable. I suppose you could say it was his way of claiming you as his own under the guise of trying to free you of the bond we’ve developed over the years whilst he came and went like the tide. He‘s the kind of possessive and controlling character that’s dangerous. It makes me quite the hypocrite in a sense, but I’m more along the lines of anxious and untrusting. The world above didn’t exactly leave a good impression on me nor did the people that lived there. Raoul’s only helped in proving that the world has changed little since I’ve come to live here. I took a chance on you, and you never did disappoint me until he began fixing things that weren’t broken. There was nothing in what he did that could be justified through any means though. Praise him all you please, but telling me what he did to you wouldn’t have you so upset if some part of you didn’t know the truth about it. I’m doing this for you, and I pray that one day you’ll come to understand and forgive me for it. Even if you don’t, I’m still going to defend you with everything I have.”
xxxxxWhilst some of the things he said maintained that stern and relatively irritable tone, other things had taken on a far more gentle tone and matched the way he’d always been with her aside from dragging her down here this time. Even now, he held her in a gentle embrace with his gloved hand still holding hers settled between them. Erik had never wished to harm the girl, but he’d very much accept her hatred of him if it meant he defended her from the true evil of the world. She’d understand this one day, he was sure. When it was, however, he couldn’t even begin to tell.
xxxxx“Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest,” a dark sort of cheer came bubbling up from deep within his chest as there came the sloshing of water making him turn towards the portcullis more fully with her still held close to him. Even if she tried to struggle against his hold, Erik would keep her held firmly by his side as his golden gaze danced dangerously towards the man reaching the gate that kept Erik and Christine from him. “Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight. I had rather hoped that you would come. And now, my wish comes true. You have truly made my night.”
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor. xxxGrasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garrish light of day, xxxturn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light and listen to the music of the night."
Mayah Playah
Time to bring in the the pest!
And I tried. I brought in some gentleness for that show of him not aiming to hurt her yet still leaving it obvious he’s still wanting to kill Raoul.
Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2020 3:22 am
♫Christine Daaé♫
Little Lottie dreams of everything...
The water was cold and thick with something that a spoiled little rich boy like Raoul didn't want to speculate about. He swam until his lungs felt like they were going to give out and he was forced to come up for air. Fortunately, the lake wasn't really that deep the closer one got to the shore, but Raoul wasn't about to just put his feet on the ground and risk falling into a booby trap. Instead, he swam close to the side of the cavern and swam against the current and horizontally. This was nothing like the ponds back home, he thought bitterly as he neared what looked like a giant grate. Looking at it from underwater was basically worthless so Raoul pushed himself upwards and planted his feet firmly on the sand. He immediately wished that he hadn't.
Even an idiot could tell what a lover's embrace looked like.
✸✸✸✸✸✸✸ Elsewhere... ✸✸✸✸✸✸✸
Christine hated it when he was right and he was almost always right. That included now. If she had truly felt the way Raoul wanted her to and if she'd truly consented to it all, she wouldn't feel as used or as filthy as she had ever since all this had happened. Part of her truly believed that Raoul loved her and that his feelings weren't all about possessing her. It was that same part of her that believed that Erik's feelings weren't just possession as well. Really, it was just the part of her that desperately wanted to see the best in people. Yet, the cynic in her did insist that everyone's intentions were skewed. Could Erik truthfully admit that his affections for her had nothing to do with his desire to own her or her voice? On that road, would he ever tell her the full extent of his intentions with her?
Ugh, who knows? All this musing was just giving her a headache. The dress was warmer than her damp costume, but the cold still wasn't doing her any favors and she was squinting in the candlelight. By her estimation, they'd been down below for a few hours. She wasn't sure her constitution was strong enough for a full night without sleep down here, much less an eternity. Oh God, eternity. He was really telling the truth about keeping her down here, wasn't he? She was so pale already. A lifetime without the sun would almost certainly turn her a shade of white that she was not comfortable with.
She felt his fingers tighten around hers and let out a small exhale as he held her to him. He was so warm, always so warm. She was sure that if she commented on it he would bring up something about the hellfire burning through his veins, something melodramatic to that caliber. She tentatively placed her free hand on his waist, allowing herself this measure of closeness. At least she would never be cold with him beside her. She let her mind settle on that. He would always be beside her. She might be trapped down in these depths, but he would always be there. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out, inhaling the scent of the lake, the fire, and him. Something in her burned as it always did when they were in close proximity, but this was different. This was theirs alone. There was no way anyone would be able to come down and find them like this. He vowed to protect her and for the first time in a long time, Christine felt like she was safe. "Erik, I-"
His attention was caught by the sound of water splashing by the portcullis. She opened her eyes and looked over, unable to hide her shock at seeing her fiance. "Raoul?" Had he swum there? She glanced over to the side, seeing a tiny but present walkway that even Raoul would have been able to tiptoe down. Okay, so maybe he wasn't the smartest person in the world, but he was here which had to mean something good. Maybe.
Christine felt the grip on her tense, as though he were afraid that she would try to struggle away from him. Honestly, the look on his face was making her want to stay by his side if only to stand and prevent him from rushing up and straight-up murdering Raoul. She looked back over to Raoul who was now pressing himself up against the portcullis and reaching for her through it. Oh. Oh, that's not a great look. "Raoul, please. It's not what you think." She resisted the urge to scold the Phantom who held her for not helping by mocking Raoul.
"You beast!" shrieked Raoul over Christine's pleas, his arms stretching through the grate and grabbing at the air. "Free her! Do what you like, only free her! Have you no pity?!" He cried, pausing in his weak attempts to grab her to begin beating at the gate. "Christine!"
She glanced to the side, unsure of how to really proceed from here. She could always struggle and make a great show of getting free, but that would really do very little to ease the tension in the room. She was trapped between two men who very much wanted to kill the other. That made for a lot of potential for violence and she was not comfortable with that at all. "Please, Raoul. It's useless." She gently reminded him, her hand leaving Erik's waist to gesture to the portcullis. It wasn't like he could just get through it. More than that, this was Erik's turf. Raoul didn't stand a chance.
He wasn't about to give up, though. "I love her! Does that mean nothing to you? I love her!" He threw a look at her as though he were trying to convince her to fly to him. When that didn't work, he turned his fiery gaze to the beast who dared to keep his arms around the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. "Have some compassion, you animal!" He gripped the gate and shook it as much as he could. "Let me see her. Let me through!"
Christine turned her eyes back to Erik, unsure of what his actions were going to be. She knew his motivations, his intentions, but not his thoughts. Either way, she knew it probably wasn't anything good. He already wanted to kill Raoul without Raoul even being there, it was almost definitely going to be hard to fight through urges with Raoul there. That is if Erik even felt a desire to fight them.
...and of nothing.
Dantes_river
It's absolutely perfect. He's in that sweet spot of pissed off enough to kill but in love enough to walk away and that's right where he's gotta be.
This week has been a constant sh-tshow, man. Just one thing after the other. Positive covid results, people moving, my cousin was in the hospital for a couple of days, I just lost track of everything and this got lost in the fold. Fortunately, I'm moving across the country in a week so I don't have a job to distract me every day so I can actually post more and we can get this season finale bowl rolling.
"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.xxx Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
xxxxxAnd there it was. The very kind of danger he’d been telling Christine was in Raoul’s person: obsessive possession. Lord only knew how he’d respond to being rejected by Christine at this point in time simply for his words settling in with the young woman. He even gave her a brief look that seemed to ask her if she saw what he’d meant about the loud man now acting the fool at the portcullis. That was, unfortunately, when he opted to use a certain word that made his eye twitch.
xxxxx“Stop calling me that, you obnoxious little banshee,” Erik snapped back in a deep sort of growl, his thumb rubbing the back of Christine’s hand still in his. Oh sweet, gentle Christine. Her words only echoed in the back of his head making his dark grin a mocking smirk. His next sentence was much too obviously containing a specific word dripping in both spite and sarcasm. “Your lover makes a passionate plea.”
xxxxxAt the man beating on the gate in a futile attempt to get through, Erik suppressed a laughter bubbling up from his chest at how stupid that was. Even worse was his reaching through the bars as if he could pull Christine through the small openings. “Imbecile. It’s metal with holes too small for a human to fit through. The portcullis was made to fortify defensive strongholds. Were you born under a rock or just too privileged to learn about defensive measures?” He threw out the words for both his sake and his own whilst adding in a jab. Someone seriously should have pointed out the stupidity of this man an eternity ago.
xxxxxThe man then continued on with his declarations of love with some insane look that was likely trying to convince her to flee from Erik’s side and somehow walk through the metal gate. Jesus. This man was back to pushing his buttons and he now had Erik’s fiery glare on him yet again. What would set him off, however, was the next sentence: Have some compassion. Have some compassion?! How dare he even let those three words pass his lips in the same sentence structure!
xxxxx“The world showed no compassion to me,” he roared back, the raw anger and hatred for man laced into every word. Releasing Christine’s hand and his arm from around her, he stepped from the girl whilst letting the man continue pleading to see her. As his feet sunk into the water only covering up to half of his calf, he gave a snap of his fingers where the portcullis gave a jerking motion. The air of having bitten the man’s head off of his shoulders for such a simple comment, metaphorically speaking, seemed to have returned to an eerie sort of calm as he added a simple, “Be my guest, sir.”
xxxxxThe portcullis began to slowly rise as Erik continued walking through the water with far less trouble than the wild sloshing Raoul left in his wake. Such a spoiled brat this man. “Monsieur, I bid you welcome. Did you think that I would harm her? Why should I make her pay,” he gestured ever so graciously, his words making it seem like that was where he’d ended that question, only to snap the fingers on the opposite hand twice simply for the portcullis to drop once more now that Raoul had passed its threshold. Unfortunately for the man in his graceless stride through the water, Erik having partly circled around him, he wouldn’t get too far before he was snatched back by a rope that had dropped down around his neck. “For the sins that are yours?!”
xxxxxMaintaining his grip on the rope, he casually walked back in front of Raoul with a much too predatory grace and a dark gaze to match. “Order your fine horses now. Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes,” he started as a bold taunt, the first line as a jab at the rooftop scene with Christine whilst the second was a jab at Giry’s constant warnings of people crossing the phantom’s patience requiring them to be wary of his wrath. It then settled into a growl where he added, “Madame Giry surely warned you about it, about the Punjab lasso, but you still fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Mercí, Vicomte, for making this much easier on me. Even if you hadn’t, I’ve plenty of other ways to kill you. It’s been quite the nuisance trying not to do so until this point, but now I’m considering the pros and cons of either making it a quick death just to get rid of this catastrophe that is you or making certain you suffer over a lengthy period of time. Your ability to royally piss me off with your name-calling just adds to what anger and annoyance I’ve built up for you since you first set foot in my theater so it’s not quite looking good for you on it being quick and painless. You brought this out of me so do understand that you’re merely reaping what you sowed.”
xxxxxAs Christine’s words ran through his head again, he glanced back at the girl briefly before giving the rope a sharp tug just to keep the man from focusing on freeing himself from the noose - not that he could. “Nothing can save you now except, perhaps, Christine.” Turning back to the blonde, he took a deep breath and tightened his fist. “Start a new life with me, Christine. Buy his freedom with your love. Refuse me and I send your lover to his grave.” Giving yet another tug more to make his point if not simply because the very thought of this man defiling the girls innocence royally pissed him off, his gaze seemed quite focused on her standing upon the ground not covered with dark waters. There. Now she had a choice to make, and the options were laid bare before her. “This is the choice! This is the point of no return!”
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor. xxxGrasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garrish light of day, xxxturn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light and listen to the music of the night."
Mayah Playah
Yay! I was struggling so much with how I was writing it ‘cause it wasn’t quite how I wanted to portray it, but when nothing about it really changed, I figured I’d put it up and if you didn’t like something, you’d offer up an idea to alter it.
And it’s fine, hon. Real life takes precedence. As for you and your family, whether you’re religious or not, I offer up my prayers for healing, health, and safe travels. People are going crazy out there in the world, and I feel it’s a little bit of something that needs to be done lately. sweatdrop Seriously though, please don’t take offense to that as it’s just my point of view. I try to pray for all of my friends and family, and all of their loved ones, to have those things even in times with less struggle than a pandemic.
I may add the No One Would Listen song from the movie with Gerard Butler after the mob leaves the lair and he steps back out of hiding to “live in loneliness” seeing as Christine’s helping Raoul at the time.
Posted: Wed Jul 29, 2020 10:43 am
♫Christine Daaé♫
Little Lottie dreams of everything...
Oh, geez. Well, he certainly wasn't doing himself any favors. She questioned her own intentions for a brief moment, wondering if she should even bother to make her way over to Raoul. Erik had a pretty solid hold on her at the moment so she'd have to yank herself out of that first. That, and Raoul seemed fairly insistent on making a fool out of himself. What did he think he was going to do? Beat down the portcullis with his bare hands? Raoul was literally nobility, he had property with more than one portcullis. He knew that these things were built to last. If she'd had the ability to do anything else but stand there in shock at the outcome of her life's choices, she would have rolled her eyes and said something to him. Definitely something scathing, if she could ever get her legs to work.
Her gaze snapped back up to Erik as he rubbed her hand, swallowing back the lump in her throat as she looked up at his face. She was becoming accustomed to the burn, but that smirk was miles and miles of nothing good. He seemed to spit venom as her as he referred to Raoul as her lover, her jaw tensing in response. Hadn't he just forced her to realize what Raoul had done? What the- Maybe La Carlotta was right. Maybe men really were just a constant boat ride to disappointment and demolished pride. What she wouldn't give to be back home in the dorms with the chorus girls, ignored by the masses and still technically single. Life was so much easier before the stage became her playground and her body became the object of obsession.
The Vicomte let out a noise that was more animalistic than human as the Phantom finally released Christine. He paid little mind to what the beast had to say, pulling his arms back through the grate as it began to move upwards. Sorcery, witchcraft, whatever it was called! He was a creature that needed to be destroyed if only to break his curse on poor Christine. Oh, the sweet, simple, devastated thing! He looked over to her with an unsettling mix of pity and desire on his face, stepping back just enough to be clear of the portcullis. He wasted little time, ducking under it once there was room to get through and standing upright quickly. Whoa, headrush. He raised a hand to his head briefly, letting it fall to his side as the Phantom advanced.
His bare feet slipped on the lake floor as he walked slowly towards the two. He was visibly shivering, his hair sticking to his neck and face as he struggled through the water. He dismissed the beast's lack of trouble as further evidence of witchcraft, despite the obviousness of the truth. As he neared the center point between them, he reached out towards Christine, her helpless expression focused solely on him. Unfortunately, he didn't get very far. His beloved Christine let out a scream as the rope encircled his neck and he was yanked back. His hands quickly jumped to the rough rope, clawing at it in a desperate attempt to get free. His wild eyes turned to glare at his enemy. "Fine horses, yes, fine horses! Kill me if you must, but from that night, she has and will always belong to me!" He spat at the monster before him, wilfully ignoring the fact that he wasn't helping matters.
Christine, who had been spending this dramatic encounter trying to decide whether or not she should use the time allotted to sneak away, felt eyes on her just as she finally willed her legs to move towards the water. She knew she'd have to get wet, but God, she wasn't looking forward to the cold. She looked up when addressed, slipping a little and catching herself on the wall. She hissed, feeling the sting of a cut, and raised her left hand up to assess the damage. It wasn't a horrible cut, but it was definitely going to hurt until it healed. She couldn't explain it, but this was enough to push her past her limit of what she could handle. "Are you finished? Have the two of you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?" Her gaze turned quickly in their direction, rage coloring her pretty face. "Am I now to be prey to your lust for my flesh?!" She stared silently at the two of them, waiting for someone to say something, to accuse her of overreacting when these two grown men were threatening to kill each other over something that had happened to her.
She paused, closing her eyes to inhale and exhale slowly. "The tears I might have shed for your sad fate," she whispered, her voice echoing in the cavern as she opened her eyes and stared directly at Raoul, "grow cold and turn to tears of hatred of what you have both done." Her eyes moved to Erik's, brimming with angry tears that she would not let fall. "I have no reason to choose either of you after what you have done to me. Kidnapping me, manipulating me, using me!" She clenched her fists, blood dripping from her injured hand onto the cave floor.
Raoul spoke first, lips trembling from both the cold and fear. "Christine." He stammered out her name, then cleared his throat and tried again. "Christine, forgive me. Please forgive me. I did everything all for you and all for nothing!" He clawed once more at the rope in his attempts to go to her.
She turned her head and closed her eyes. "Farewell, my fallen idol and false friend. One by one, all of my delusions are now shattered." Christine couldn't hold back a sob and raised her unharmed hand to her face. "However, I can't... I can't just let you die, Raoul. No matter what's happened. I can't be your death." As much as she hated to admit it, Christine was ultimately a good person. She couldn't handle any more death. If she could prevent it, she would. Of course, this meant the loss of her freedom, but would she be free either way? Probably not. At least with Erik, she could be herself.
Raoul shook his head violently, retching when his own movements caused the rope to strain against him. "No! If you say that you love him, then my life is over! You must see that either way you choose, he has to win." He turned to glare at Erik, sneering at him. "She could never love you. Not really. Why make her lie to you to save me? You would always know that she's only done it to keep you from killing me, her real true love."
Now at this, she rolled her eyes. For the second time, Christine wished to return to her life of simplicity and anonymity. She had dreamed of love and adventure before, but this was a nightmare. Loving Erik was not a lie. It was a long-time coming and had been in place since far before Raoul had reentered her life. Could she really live down here? With him? She took a careful step into the water, facing them both and hiding her brief shock at her ability to stand upright. "Angel of music, who deserves this?" she sang softly, her exhaustion and her sadness finally breaching into her voice. She no longer looked at Raoul, only keeping her eyes on Erik as she stepped slowly into the water. "Why do you curse mercy?" She continued to walk towards him, her sole focus a fact that was not lost on Raoul.
"I tried so hard to free you," interjected Raoul, seeking to remind her that he was still fighting for her.
She didn't even bat an eye in his direction, choosing to respond without turning her stare away from Erik. "I don't think "trying hard" and "immediately failing" are the same thing, Raoul." She licked her lips, stopping when she was only a few feet away from Erik. "Angel of music, you deceived me. I gave you my mind blindly." She was no longer singing, her voice quiet but deliberate. She felt her anger ebbing away the closer she neared him. It was being replaced by something else, something she'd forgotten she could have for someone else: complete understanding. Their lives, while not equal in suffering, had both been laced with endless sorrow and pain. In all the world, it was likely that only the two could truly understand the other. They had lost so much and had so much taken away from them, finding comfort in the one thing that could not hurt them. It taught them to rely on no one else and she was sure that they two would have remained closed off for all eternity had fate not intervened and pushed them into the other's path. Like it or not, they were destined to be here with each other.
...and of nothing.
Dantes_river
Oh def. Trust me, I'll let you know when I don't like something. I suffered through enough iffy arcs with past rpers to know not to stay quiet about that stuff. I hope that you feel the same.
I'm not very religious, but my family is like uber Catholic so I know exactly what you mean. I know that for spiritual people, that's one of the ultimate forms of kindness that can be offered and I really appreciate it. Thank you very much. heart
I'm totally on board with that. Christine can even have a few lines from Learn to be Lonely as she's climbing back out before we have the time skip, just to illustrate how connected they've become. Speaking of, how long should the time skip be? I was thinking just a few weeks but we could bump it to a few months if you think his sanity can stand it.
"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.xxx Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
As Christine began to speak up, the darker of the two men began to bristle at her words and his eyes to narrow as behind the anger, he was highly unamused by her questions. There was no critiquing for her dramatic change as she was being placed in dire straits at the moment. It was simply her word choice that he found unamusing, even a little upsetting, whilst the anger was wholeheartedly directed towards the man behind him.
“That’s not funny,” was the bitter and very simplistic response he’d made towards her words. Erik had never said anything of physical relations being part of the deal, simply that they reverse this whole course with Raoul being cut out of the picture permanently along with a brief separation from the world above. Okay. It may have been insinuated that this would be her new permanent residence, his word choice having been so very lacking of tact, but his insides had been freaking out all throughout today even if he seemed relatively calm on the outside. A mistake as small as poor word choice could be amended, but that really wasn’t his main focus. Her word choice, however, had cut deep to the bone seeing as he’d used several of them when he’d told her the truth about why he was always hiding in shadow. “Are you sure you don’t want to add a little more salt to that wound?”
Hearing her say that her sorrow for his dark fate had made a sharp turn into hatred made Erik flinch slightly. Hate? Well, he probably looked as evil as others had claimed him to be at this point. It wasn’t his fault though! He’d just gone so far off-script because of the fool trying to be a knight in shining armor that nothing was working out like it should have. This wasn’t what he’d wanted.
Wait. What? Kidnapping? Manipulating? Using?! Was that how she was seeing this now? Was that now her whole perception of their time together? Fine.
“Just living up to the expectations of the name I suppose. We needed to have a serious conversation, and he was preventing it from happening,” he retorted sharply, his free hand motioning between him and the girl before making a sharp accusatory point at Raoul. He really hated this man ever since he’d first laid eyes upon him. He just screamed trouble, and look at where they were now.
Taking in a deep breath at this point in an attempt to slow the rapid beating in his chest, not to mention drawing back the darkness clouding his sight in anger, he curled his toes up in his boots as a mild distraction from the way his stomach churned from simply hearing she was feeling hate torwards him. “It’s too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity. Past all hope of cries for help, no hope in fighting, for either way you choose, you cannot win.”
The way Erik’s own improvised response to the words of the duo seemed to dance between them, even how he deliberately synchronized with Raoul’s words, just seemed far too eerie in making their point. “So do you choose to end your days with me, or do you send him to his grave? Tais-toi, corbeau détestable. No one wants your input, and I’m quite positive that she spontaneously went with you because it was convenient in putting a distance between us after a complete misunderstanding. Lord knows all you’re good for is convenience sake, and it’s only because you were a dear friend that you’re still here today. I absolutely loathe you, always have since I first laid eyes upon you, but she seems to care enough to keep you breathing.”
Hearing Christine’s initial step into the water, his gaze immediately snapped back towards her. He spoke no lie to her. They’d set foot in uncharted territory with no ability to turn back into what they had been. “Past the point of no return, the final threshold! His life is now the prize which you must earn. You’ve passed the point of no return.”
Shifting his gaze to the side ever so briefly to glance at Raoul being oh so stubborn. “I’ve already answered that question. I don’t see a reason to show the world what it denied me,” he breathed in retort, a slight smirk flashing at the girl ever so briefly, as he took a second to loosen then tighten his grip on the rope once more. She wasn’t just going to avoid making this decision until the two men had calmed themselves down. No. She wanted to be treated as an adult, well, adults had to make decisions and this was one of them even in a spur of the moment. “Do let me remind you though, Christine, that the first time you came here was of your own volition. Everything until he showed up was your own decision. I made an offer, and you accepted all of the terms and conditions of agreement. You had every opportunity to refuse, to turn away from the shadows, but you didn’t. I let you in, fell into a false sense of security, and look at where we are now... Failing miserably seems to be his second greatest skill. And just think, you agreed to marry him.”
Taking a second deep breath, her words of him deceiving her seeming to drive the knife in his back that much deeper, he made a brief gesture towards the other man. Fine. She could hate him all she’d like. Not only would she lose no matter the choice made, it seemed he would too. They were meant to share a similar fate as the other. And then it clicked in his head just how close she’d come, the warmth she’d carried with him for so long returning to the space between them. He couldn’t let her trick him into just giving her what she wanted through that sense of security she’d already dragged him into once before, but he could feel it in his hands how he was loosening his grip on the rope. It wasn’t by much, but he now had a fuzzy sensation in his fingers from where he’d cut off blood circulation by gripping it so tightly. It was perhaps all of the things said down here, perhaps how this was playing out, but he managed to utter in a low growl, “You try my patience. Make your choice.”
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor. xxxGrasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garrish light of day, xxxturn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light and listen to the music of the night."
Mayah Playah
Yep. I totally agree on that. Even worse is when you tried being subtle in wording to get them to go down a set path you’ve pretty much written for them and they end up somewhere else entirely making you read through their response multiple times then go back and then reread everything entirely simply because the only word that comes to mind is “what?”
That’s good. I’m not overzealous religious so I won’t beat people in the head with the Bible to make them understand or believe, my go-to church probably having been destroyed by that last horrible hurricane, but I will still do what I feel needs to be done whether people agree or not. It may be selfish to do so, but it makes me feel a little at ease. It helped put my entire family at ease when my dad got deployed to Iraq when we lived in Texas and we had this random white dove following us around only after we’d pray for his safety. Call it what you will, but we believe it was a sign that he was being watched over.
And that sounds like a lovely idea. It can be a few months, depressing ones of attempting to recover from heartbreak for poor Erik mind you, so Christine can have some time trying to convince people that he’s not as evil as they think he is. Then she’ll just have to convince Erik to come back out of hiding where he’ll see that she’s convinced them to give him a chance and take credit where credit is due.
Sorry. I’ve edited this a bit. I didn’t really feel that the last one was any good, but I’m kinda iffy on this one too. :/
I also added a French comment, courtesy of Google translate since I don’t actually know much French so don’t blame me if it’s wrong in some way. •• Tais-toi, corbeau détestable. - Shut up, hateful crow. I chose it since crows are pretty obnoxious with their constant “caw caw caw.” and any time I’d write out something along the lines of Raoul’s being obnoxious, it kept coming back to calling him a hateful crow. Weird, but whatever.
