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((omfg incest. XD Okay, no. [/Random moment of stupidity] ))

It was safe to say Joseph was causing more harm to himself than to the masked creature he was after. The perspiration he was exerting was making his grip on both the knife and the ropes he swung himself about very difficult. Once or twice he almost fell over the sides of the ropes or tripped over from a knothole in the wooden planks of the catwalks. But all he had to show for it was a newly defined odor and red face.

He'd noticed the change in attitude in the Phantom, but it wasn't like he cared. He knew he struck a nerve with that insult and it was what he wanted. It would be that much more satisfying when he brought this man down amidst a fight.

"I 'eard 'bout that," He grunted, going for a side-swipe but missing. "Some little demon boy killed 'is cage master and ran away with a pretty li'l thing, he did. Was the panic of France for weeks, you know. They thought you ate human flesh." Oh yes, Buquet could still do a bit of connecting even in such a state. Actually, some people were more logical intoxicated than sober. Buquet liked to think he was smart either way, but then again he had an ego that was making up for something quite irrelevent to the goings on.

He coughed, spitting out over his shoulder as he took another swing at the monster before him. Down below a ballerina slipped on the bloody spittled, arousing more laughter from the audience.

"That Antoinette really musta been stupid to think you'd ever amount to anything here." He continued on with his insults, grunting and making more animalistic noises than necessary for such movements. "Takin' a boy with a sack over his head to an Opera house. Hah. Hell, I'd even go as far to say that she's as stupid as you are ugly."

His vision was crossing and doubling, making it hard to see which direction his target was going in. A couple of times he jabbed left when he'd meant right and ended up slicing his arm up pretty good.

After a few minutes, Joseph hit another knothole in the wood under his feet and fell forward. The shock rattled his brain and jolted his body.

And the knife fell from his hand.

Meg helped some of the ballerinas with the sheep. She noticed a racket above but ignored it. After she finished helping she got some makeup and brought it to Christine's dressing room.

" Mother? Here is the makeup. Good luck Christine. "

With that Meg went back to the flies of the stage.

(( I ment the wings -_-;; It's easy to confuse them. Wings fly ))

His face would have blanched had all the blood in his head not begun to fester from the rough circulation. His larynx was getting crushed from the rope which made even taken small gasps of air as difficult as getting a lungful had been a moment ago.

Desperately his hands clawed at the rope, but his nails broke and chipped, a couple even ripping from his fingers from the pressure he was putting on his fingers. The words he'd shrugged off as anger from the night before suddenly rang through his head like the tolls of a bell.

Keep your hand at the level of your eyes!

Why hadn't he known sooner? His death was nigh and all he could think about was the words Madame Giry had hissed at him after he'd scared the ballet rats for the umpteenth time with the same story of the dreaded "Phantom". Not only was this man, this creature, a Phantom, but he was soon to be a murderer.

He opened his mouth to say something or to even scream, but a weak choking sound merely croaked forth from his throat. Carlotta had been made a toad tonight and now he was the one sounding like it. Joseph kicked his legs wildly, perspiration rolling down his reddening face as he tried desperately to find some way to be released before his throat was crushed by the rope.

Malakai's pure heart ached at the sight of darkened struggle above him. He knew Buquet was more evil in every way shape or form than the phantom himself, but humanity had gotten to him. He considered saving the b*****d. ...considered.

Though he could not easily make out who was who, he assumed the more round of the two was Josef, face down on the plank of the catwalk, struggling and making the whole loft shake. Malakai looked toward the stage floor and noticed the few gobs of crimson saliva tracked the stage and, in a few cases, the shoes of the dancers.

His gaze drifted upward again and a surge of adrenaline went through him as he saw the vague outline of a noose being pulled around Buquet's fat neck. He had to go. Wether he would be too late or not, his conscience would be fulfilled if he jsut tried.

Malakai let go of the curtain rope, which incidentally moved a few feet inward and downward releasing the audience to another one of thier uproars. He shoved through the gel controllers and up the spiral staircase to the loft.

He would surely be too late, but at least he could send the fire curtain down to cover the stage later...

During these events, Christine was getting changed into the costume for the countess. She took gasps of breath as the corset was being tightened on her. She was used to it, though. Thoughts still raced through her head, she had heard Erik's voice, and she was partially scared. Taking yet another breath, she flinched as the corset was tightened a bit too much.

Her gaze soon drifted from her reflection in the mirror to the rose, lifting it in her hands. Yet again, her thoughts drifted to her Angel, no.. Erik. It seemed awkward, calling him such a name after a long while of referring to him as Angel. Her fingertips ran along the black ribbon tied to the long-stemmed rose, her gaze softening. She couldn't say whether she loathed or loved the man who gave her the roses. The mixed feelings were indescribable.

"Thank you." She managed as a feeble whisper to the maid who had took the effort to help her get the corset and costume on. She sighed softly, stepping quietly over to the wardrobe, pulling out a rose-red velvet cloak and draped it over her arm. She had a hunch that she would need it. She quietly made her way out of the room, slowly making her way back to the stage.

((BUUUUUUMMMMM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUUUUUUUUM!!! ....yeah, you can't have the man's death without the music.))

Only once did he get to breathe before another rope was tied around his neck even tighter than the first. This was it. He was as good as dead now.

Writhing and gasping, Joseph was dragged to the edge of the plank they had been on. Erik's final words to him left him cold.

And then he dropped.

Immediately the audience had their eyes upon the hanging, writhing with death's spasms Joseph Buquet. A ballerina below him shrieked violently, then fainted as did many women in the audience. The men were sickened and even a few turned to gag. One man on the balcony even heaved up his stomache contents on his wife who had passed out on the floor.

Pandamonium struck and a few people tried fleeing in fright as others simply sat and sadistically waited to see what excuse the managers would come up with for this.

A few minutes later due to the weight of the man hanging and the weak weaving of the rope, Joseph's dead body fell on the middle of the stage. The sheep ran as more ballerinas scattered offstage in tears and flailing limbs.

~~**~~
((quickly taking control of m. le managers since eric is not here))

Firmin and Moncharmin had just returned to their lovely little box when the body of Joseph the chief scene-shifter fell from the flies and writhed like a puppet being jerked about by its master. Firmin shouted in surprise, covering his mouth with a handkerchief as Moncharmin turned away.

Moncharmin frighteningly noticed a few people rushing for the exits. Oh God, how would he get them to stay now that a body was in the middle of a ballet scene? This could not get any worse!!

"Please everyone, be calm and remain seated!" He cried, trying to shout over the screaming crowd. "This was an accident! Simply an accident!"

"An Accident?!" Firmin shouted, not removing the kerchief to speak. "You insolent boob, this was the work of the Phantom!"

"Shut up!" Moncharmin yelled back, slapping Firmin so hard the man spun right out of his chair.

~~**~~

Antoinette had dutifully seen to it that a maid helped Christine with her corset and gown. It wasn't that she wasn't capable of doing it, but her hands were so weak and full of some joint disease. The herbal creme she'd been putting on her hands dutifully for years had not helped one bit, but she was too strong-headed to convince herself it would not work.

Leaving both women to get the young brunette ready, Antoinette decided Monsieur le Vicomte could fend for himself in Box 5. She wanted to see how the ballet was faring. As she came to offstage left, she sighed as a few girls went out of step and even one slipped on something wet on the stage. The sheep were trying to eat the scenery again and even one had taken to jumping off the stage and landing in a violinist's lap, baa-ing the entire time.

The audience was eating this up like bon bons. Her distress was their comedic relief and she was having a hard time swallowing the lump growing in her throat.

And then something fell from the flies.

Instinctively her eyes were drawn to the unfortunate man hanging from above the stage. Only when the body turned toward her direction did she catch the red-faced bulging eyes of the now dead Buquet. She didn't need or want to look further up to see the culprit. Antoinette already had a fine idea.

Putting her hand over her mouth, Antoinette gagged and dropped her cane which caused her to fall over on her knees. The pain from such a feat coursed through her body unnoticed. Why..? Why had Erik done it? What purpose would that man's death serve but to further hurt him in the end?

Hot tears trailed down her cheeks, passing over the wrinkles that her shock had given her face. At this moment, she trully looked old.

"No... No..." She could say nothing else. Her mind was blank. Her mind wasn't registering anything but the silence of her inner self. Where was Meg? Where was Christine? More importantly, where was the murderer?

((And thus I sadly say bye bye to Buquet. I hardly knew him and I don't think I wouuld've cared to. *throws body in hole* nighty-night Bucket.))