phantomsdarkangel
Full Member
No thoughts within her head but thoughts of Love
Posts: 194
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Post by phantomsdarkangel on Apr 2, 2012 13:56:49 GMT -5
And because I know that many of you have great writing skills and a creative mind...
[glow=red,2,300]PROMPTS![/glow] Pick one of the topics below and write away! ~*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-~
Ever since your character got to the manor, they started to look for a way out. Any sort of escape was what they needed. But, sadly, there's no way out and your character has to stay in the manor.
If your character had to write a letter to someone -anyone- telling them what happened to them, as crazy as it may seem, and what are their thoughts about the place and maybe ask for help, who would they write to? What would they say? Why do they think they are in the manor?
Not everyone would believe what your character has to say, so they should be careful of who they write to and what they say. Otherwise, they could not be taken seriously at all.
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Your character has had many experiences in the manor ever since they got here, that's for sure. What's the most shocking/confusing/terrifying experience your character has had? What do they think about it?
And what was the best experience they had and why? They must have had something exciting happen to them!
~*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-~
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Post by ladybarbossa on Apr 6, 2012 12:07:42 GMT -5
My darling little Gustave,
I am writing to you from where I do not know. I have been brought to and lost within a grand Manor. Though I am not alone, those whom I have met have left me confused. Do not worry about your mother for I am fine. Your father is here with me. But I do worry about you so! I have been searching for you, and seeking a way to return to you, my dear boy. I do miss you so. You are still my little miracle. Fret not, for I shall find you someday again.
Granted, you may fancy this grand Manor for it is vast and enormous! Though rather dilapidated from lack of care and years of gross neglect, no doubt I would believe you to find this place wonderful.
Oh, I do miss you, Gustave! I will return to you soon enough, my son. For now, please stay where you are but at least notify Mr Hammerstein or the Coney Island manager of the circumstances that your parents have gone missing and that you are in need of temporary care and shelter until we have been found, say no more than that. I pray at least they shall send some form of search party to find your father and I.
Stay safe, my dear Gustave. I pray I see you soon.
Your loving mother
Christine
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Erik Lenoir
Hide your face, so the world will never find you...
Hide your face so the world will never find you...
Posts: 1,241
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Post by Erik Lenoir on Apr 8, 2012 23:21:35 GMT -5
My dear friend Giry,
It has been several months now that I have been away. I am sure you think that I escaped to a distant land to get away from the crowds. I sincerely hope that you did not show the crowds and the police where my so-called lair is. If you did, I shall surely find out and when I return, I shall have your head. I don't expect you think I had anything to do with the demise of that ridiculous actor Piangi. I can't imagine what happened to him, but of course, dear Giry, the ignorant masses are the first to pin something like that on me, the ugly and fearsome Phantom. I suppose it did work for a while, but somehow my secret escaped. I truly do hope you have not talked, for you know I shall find out in time.
So, you ask, where have I been since I left. Ah, that is a wonderful question. Would that I could answer it for you. I was planning, at the beginning of my escape, to hide below the lair and take the underground passageway to escape to the Seine, and thereafter to somewhere, anywhere else. Somehow, my plans went awry. The underground passageways seemed to take a turn of their own and I ended up in a very strange place.
If I explain this place of horrors to you, I am sure you won't believe me. I can't tell you where it is, I can't even tell you when it is. Yes, he's gone daft, you say, if he wasn't before.
All right let me explain. I awoke in this odd castle, mansion, whatever you would call it one evening, I expect it was, coming from the passsageway under the opera house. It led right into the mansion, into its library. The place was old and decrepit and covered with dust. Since then, it has only become stranger and stranger.
Rooms change and become new or old at will. There seem to be new parts to the house appearing every day. Rooms change place sometimes. New rooms, new people appearing, I can't really keep up with it.
I have met no less than five Christine Daaés, possibly six masked men named Erik including myself and three Raoul de Chagnys. Three to0 many, I say. I have also met your daughter Meg...well, she's Meg but she isn't Meg. And on top of this, I have met a murderous mermaid and a fellow who purports to be a ghost, saying he died in the sixteenth century or some such rubbish. There are some other people here too, and rather many I have not met. We all want to leave this place...although Giry, I must say, it makes a lovely hideout for me until the fuss over the so-called murders blows over. You don't believe I'm responsible, do you, my dear Giry? I can't imagine that you would ever think that.
And I may be amazed some day to see you here. Would that you have not changed. And the woman who says she's your daughter...well, I don't really want to go into that. She would shock you. That's why I don't think it's sweet little Meg. Come to think of it, I didn't really know her too well, so perhaps it is your daughter. She is rather amazing.
So Giry, if you get this letter, which I am certain you shall not, considering I have no idea where I am or when as I stated before, consider it as a letter from a friend. You don't have to go looking for me. I suspect you'd never find me. I am safe from the police, I believe. By the way, how is that screeching woman Carlotta? I wondered if she would appear here, but I suspect only those who do not screech when they sing would be allowed to come here.
And my dear Giry, do not think me daft, until you come and experience it yourself...
Your obedient servant,
O.G.
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Christine Daaé
The Swedish Nightingale and Fairy of the North
If when the time comes, I refuse to go with you, well then, Raoul, you must carry me off by force!
Posts: 1,592
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Post by Christine Daaé on Apr 11, 2012 0:04:17 GMT -5
À Madame Adelaide Valérius
28 Rue Notre-Dame des Victoires
Paris. France 75002 April 7 th, 1887 Dear Mamma Valérius, I hope that you have been well the past few days. Please do not worry about me. I am simply on holiday for a few weeks. I decided it would be best to get some time to myself before the wedding, so I have come to an enormous castle in a far off land and the Angel of Music is here. I know that I told you there is no such thing as the Angel of Music, but I really do not know what else to call him. For he sings like an angel from heaven. But I digress... I have met many fascinating people here, many of whom go by the name 'Christine Daaé'. In fact, 'Daaé' and 'de Chagny' are very popular surnames here. Quite popular. Thus far, I have met a total of fifteen people here, within the walls of the castle. I suppose it would only be fair of me to tell you a little bit about each of them. The first person I met was a man named Raoul de Chagny. No, he is not the Raoul de Chagny who we both know, and who I used to play with as a little child, but that is what he says that his name is. Anyway, this Monsieur de Chagny and I met in the chambers where I had been sleeping. Yes, Mamma, I am still good. Do not worry about that. I had simply fallen and called for help and this man had come to help me to my feet again. A couple days later, after our first meeting, Monsieur de Chagny and I had lunch together and he gave me a tour of the castle. He is a very nice man. I told him all about the Raoul de Chagny that I knew, and he became so curious about him that he sent a letter to his commanding officers inquiring as to what he is like. The lunch we had was very strange. It was local cuisine, I believe. Some sort of pasta with tuna in it. It was actually not half bad though, and did not have a bit of garlic in it. You would be proud of me, managing to keep up with Lent so well, even away from home. Not a single bit of garlic and it's nearly Holy Week! And you thought that it would be too difficult... The second person I met was a young woman by the name of Christine Ellen Daaé. While our names were very similar, we looked and acted nothing alike. I met her in the dining room after having been walking around for quite some time. She had dark eyes and brunette curls and was about average height. She offered me a bowl of soup, but I did not take it. It probably had garlic in it. She also told me that there were people who disappear before your eyes here. There must be many trap doors about, like there are at the Opéra. I have not come across any yet, but she has obviously been here much longer than I, so that would probably explain it. The third person I met was a man by the name of Erik Lenoir. He is a strange fellow and wears a mask over half of his face. He also talks quite a bit. The first time we met, we took a walk together and saw many things. I believe it was a museum of some sort that we were walking through, because there were many old artifacts on display. All sorts of bones and tools and even a few creatures. Perhaps it was a museum of science. The second time we met, it was at the local opera house. The ma seems to quite enjoy teasing me, for he does it often, but I'm sure he's a good man despite it, Mamma. You know I would never stay around someone I felt might put me in danger. The fourth person I met was another woman apparently by the name of Christine Daaé (I told you that it was a very common name here, Mamma). She was a bit smaller than I and had dark brunette hair and blue eyes. I met her in a lovely ballroom and the two of us went to share a cup of tea together and go searching though all sorts of clothing to try on. She was very nice, and I do hope to meet her again soon, although who can know really with how things are here. So many people bustling about, you never know when you will see someone again. The fifth was a man I met while I was at mass in a little chapel. We only spoke. He went by the name of 'Lavalais'. He was apparently hired by the Shah of Persia to work on some sort of architectural feat. He seems to have a keen interest in music as well, and was very fascinated when I told him my occupation and that I was a lyric coloratura soprano. Perhaps I shall see him again the next time that I go to mass. He was very kind to me when I told him about my fiancé, Raoul. He seemed happy to hear of young people being married. The sixth person was a woman by the name of Christine de Chagny. She was a bit older – I'd estimate late twenties to early thirties and had auburn hair and bright blue eyes. She was very kind, and asked me for directions briefly. Luckily, I was able to give them to her and she was most grateful afterward. The second time I met her was in the kitchen of the castle and we baked a cake together along with another woman I met, whom I will tell you about later on in this letter. She (Christine de Chagny) reminds me a little bit of you, Mamma. She has the same sort of homey warmth you seem to radiate. Whenever I'm around her, it reminds me of being at home with you, Mamma. Don't worry though. She could never take your place, and soon I shall be home again with you. The seventh person I met was a miner man by the name of Thomas Boehm. He didn't tell me himself that he was a miner, but his pants were made of that de Nimh fabric, and he seemed quite rugged. I met him in the library and he was reading Edgar Allen Poe's Annabel Lee. I told him how you love it when I read to you and Poe was one of your favorites to hear. He seemed very intelligent for a miner. Perhaps he went to university, but mining was a family tradition so he decided to continue with it like his father before him. The eighth was another man by the name of Raoul de Chagny. He appeared to be in his mid thirties and was of middle height, perhaps a bit shorter. He is apparently married to the Christine de Chagny that I met and it would seem that they are missing their son, Gustave. I do hope that they find the young boy. He must be so frightened without his parents there. The man was very polite though. I helped him to find his wife, whom I had met prior to meeting this particular Raoul de Chagny. Perhaps I shall find their son for them. They are so worried. It would certainly help ease their minds a bit. The ninth was another man in a mask by the name of Erik Carrière.. He was not a very talkative man at all, but claimed to know yet another woman by the name of Christine Daaé. Considering how extremely common the name seems to be around here, it would not surprise me if he did. I met him while I was exploring an art gallery within the castle. He seems to rather enjoy opera and painting, so he must be a man of high culture, but one would not know it when first meeting him. For as I said before, he is quite shy. More shy than Raoul even when he was a little boy!.... and by Raoul here, I of course mean the Monsieur Raoul de Chagny whom you and I both know, Mamma, and whom I am to marry. The tenth person whom I met here was a blonde woman, a bit taller than I, who wore the most scandalous of clothing! She also spoke far too much, though I believe it is merely because she is a very forward person. I think that she might be a prostitute, though I am not sure. It would be ruse to ask, especially if she were not, so I have avoided doing so. The eleventh person was another masked man, also by the name of Erik, but this time with the surname of Baissé. When I found him, he was banging on a piano-forte in a music room. That poor, poor instrument... It was a very pretty room though. All full of instruments and scores... Monsieur Baissé and I did not speak much. He seems to be the type who prefers to keep to himself. There is nothing wrong with that though. Many people are like that, at least on occasion. The twelfth person that I met was a blonde woman of middle height with dark brown eyes who went by the name Christine Nicole Daaé. She wasn't the brightest thing, and obviously not the best of musicians either. She cannot even apply the term “maestro” in proper context. I don't like her. She yelled at me. Thank the Lord that most of the people here are absolutely nothing like her. The thirteenth person I met was a very strange woman by the name of Erika, who wore odd clothing and a strange and frightening looking mask with goggles and hoses coming from it and she had shaved her head completely bald! But we shared a meal together – some more of that local tuna and pasta cuisine. The fourteenth person I met was a bizarre man who lived with the rats. He was tall with long blonde hair, and very crude manners. He was polite enough, however, to show me about his home and invited me to stay there as his guest for a short time. I would prefer, however, not to meet him again, as the man seems rather clingy (for lack of a better word) and difficult to separate oneself from. The fifteenth and final person that I met here was none other than the Angel of Music himself! He still acts as guide and protector to me, and tries to share his words of wisdom with me whenever possible. I have no doubt that he will be guarding me and keeping me during the entire duration of my stay here in this castle. Please, do not worry for me. As you can see, I am quite fine here. The people, for the most part, are very kind, albeit a bit odd. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I am perfectly safe and will be coming home as soon as I feel it is time and fate allows me to do so. Give Raoul a big hug for me and make sure that my fiddle is put away (for I believe I may have left it out before I left). Bisous! ~Christine P.S. Please post the enclosed envelope to Monsieur le Comte Raoul de Chagny
À Monsieur le Comte Raoul de Chagny
245 Boulevard Saint-Germaine
Paris, France, 75007 My dearest Raoul, Please come as soon as you can, Raoul. I worry for your own safety and now I find myself in greater danger than I had initially thought I was in. Please do not disclose any of the information in the letters I have written to you to Mamma Valérius. I have written to her a very watered-down version of all which has occurred during my time where as Érik's hostage. If she speaks to you of any of the events, simply smile and nod and play along. It is best she does not no. The poor old woman would be worried to death if she learned the truth. Please come for me as soon as the good Lord wills it, and please stay safe yourself. You know that I worry about you with all that the press had said of our flight. I love you, ~Your little Christine |
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Raoul Christophe de Chagny
I?m here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.
Love me, that's all I ask of you
Posts: 414
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Post by Raoul Christophe de Chagny on Apr 11, 2012 18:04:33 GMT -5
My Dearest Brother,
I write today thanking you for attempting to separate me from Miss Daaé. I know you had my best interests at heart. I have now realized the truth. She is, as you said, after only one thing, and that is our fortune. You were only trying to protect me—as I genuinely loved her believed that she felt the same, however it is upon being reunited with my childhood friend that I’ve realized that I was wrong. I was a fool to believe her to be that seraphic little girl I was so fond of.
Allow me to explain myself, as you are no doubt, dear brother, surprised and confused by this revelation. I came to this conclusion several weeks after my arrival here, and a week or so after my last letter. I am not entirely sure where here is, as I said in my other letter, but I believe that we are somewhere in France—we meaning myself and several other people—in a manor house of sorts. My last letter was sent via a post office in a small village not too far from this manor.
I am not sure how I came to be here. All I know is I was at the performance of Hannibal, and I had the intent of going to see Miss Daaé in her dressing room. The door opened, and suddenly I felt faint. I must have fallen unconscious, and the next thing I remembered was waking up in a chair in a music room. I thought I had merely gotten lost and fallen asleep at the opera house. I saw a woman with brown curls and chocolate eyes and inquired as to where I was. She informed that I was not at the Populaire as I had thought, but in some sort of manor. I couldn’t believe it at first, but I took her word for it. I introduced myself to her, and she gave her name as none other than Christine Daaé! She was obviously not the auburn-haired, blue-eyed girl I remembered so well from the days of my youth, but as I told you in my previous letter she had her memories, her mannerisms—almost everything aside from her appearance was the same. She believed me to be her Raoul, and I believed her to be my Christine.
Next I met a man by the name of Erik Lenoir. He called me by name—to my surprise—and demanded to know if I remembered him. How could I? We had never met before in my life. I told him as much, and then he decided to show himself. The man was a bit shorter than me, and he wore black evening wear, an opera cape, and a Homburg hat, and half of his face was covered by a plain, white mask. He then went on to explain how I had ‘stolen’ Christine from him, and how he had kept us in his lair and tried to kill me. I didn’t understand a word he was saying. It was then that I recalled how the Christine I had met—Christine Ellen, as is his full name—told me how she had met a true-to-life Angel of Music. She said the man hid behind her mirror and would give her singing lessons. I of course found this suspicious, and had told her such, thinking that he was trying to win her affections. Well, it turns out that he was. Erik admitted to being this so-called Angel, and he also admitted that he loved Christine—our Christine—the woman who I once loved. We ended up forming a truce in order to get out of here, and agreed to meet again in three days’ time.
In that window of time I met three other Christines. One was very short and had blonde hair and blue eyes. Our first meeting began rather awkwardly so to speak, but by the end of it the situation improved. She was engaged to a man with my name—I have no idea how—and the title of Comte de Chagny. She said that he was a lieutenant de vaisseau in the Marine Nationale. The two of them were planning to elope, but she had been taken here somehow, and he was scheduled to be on a voyage to the North Pole. If he did not show up for his voyage, then of course he would be executed for treason. I offered to write a letter to one of my friends in the navy, who would be able to speak with his commanding offers and perhaps grant him pardon. I sent the letter the day I sent the other one to you. She also informed me that Erik was a criminal mastermind, and the so-called ‘Phantom of the Opera’ that there are rumors swarming around about at the Populaire. With this in mind, I was determined to warn Christine Ellen of the danger of her Erik.
The other Christine I met was short as well, but had brown hair and blue eyes. We did not speak long, but I found her in the garden.
The last Christine—she was the one from my childhood. Of this I have no doubt. By this time I had proposed to Mademoiselle Christine Ellen Daaé, and as I said, we plan to wed with or without your consent, do not misunderstand me. This was soon after finding a village a mile or so away from the manor house, the village from which I sent my letter. It is very strange…the people there claim that it is the year 2012, and that francs are no good, and instead they use a currency known as euros. It is a bizarre sort of place, but so is the manor…
But this Christine’s surname was de Chagny—yes, she claimed to be my wife. But apparently she was my wife from the future. Let me explain, brother—in my stay here I met a woman named Meg Giry, an old friend of Christine’s. This Giry claimed to be from ten years in the future. She let slip that Christine was going to run away with a ‘him’—I asked her what she meant, but she did not want to explain herself to me. But as I was saying, this Christine seemed to recognize me—and I her. She had aged of course, but she was still the same beautiful singer I had seen that night that seems like an eternity ago. She kept asking for a ‘Gustave’, which confused me at first until she explained that he was her son. She broke down crying, and I comforted her until she appeared stable again. I then proceeded to ask her questions of our future. She told me that we had a son named Gustave—after her father no doubt. Upon asking her if she was happy with me, she told me she was—but the way she had answered was not convincing at all…which was funny, because she acts—or acted for a living. You see, brother, I asked her if she still sang—which no matter what you may say, I still believe is her gift—and she told me she did. But if she still did, then why was she so unhappy with me? It was then that I remembered what Meg had told me—about running away. I asked her about that, and she lied to me again. And then I demanded to know if she still loved me. She gave me another cryptic answer, about how it was possible for someone to love more than one person. At that, I left the library.
It was just yesterday that I saw her again. I was in a music room playing piano and she heard me. I know you don’t like me playing it all the time but honestly it calms my nerves. I apologized to her for being so inquisitive. I had asked her what I was like in the future, and she had been guarded about answering that question. I now knew why, as I…met myself from the future, and let’s just say he wasn’t a man I wanted to become. I apologized for him as well, and she pleaded with me to stay the way I was and allow her—meaning my fiancée— to sing. I promised her that I would. Since we were in a music room, I then asked her if she would grant me the honor of a song. She agreed, and brother, if you had heard her voice I don’t doubt that you would have been in awe as I was. It had grown more mature of course, but it was every bit just as beautiful. To my surprise, she began crying in the middle of her song. I tried to comfort her as best I could, and for a while it worked. But then she mentioned that accursed Angel of Music again! She wanted me to let her sing with him. The little blonde Christine had been traumatized by Erik—so traumatized that she had tried to commit suicide. I couldn’t lose my Christine—the one that I am to marry—to him. I told this Christine that he was a criminal, and for a short while we had a debate of sorts about his character, and I won out. But then she said that my soul had become just as dark and twisted as his. I could not believe that this was the Christine I’d known so well and loved so much even as a child, but it was. She loved this Erik man—probably more so than she loved me. I concluded that she had only married me for my money, and my status. I wonder if she ever loved me in the first place. You ripped me from her, brother, but I loved her and only upon coming here did I realize that. But she is not the angelic soul I once thought her to be. Granted my fiancée is different—and I trust her, do not get me wrong—but you were right about the girl we are both familiar with. That Christine Daaé means nothing to me.
Sincerely Yours,
Raoul Christophe de Chagny
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Erik Carriere
For I am blackness itself...
"When you sing, I live in the heavens, and when you do not, down below." ~ Erik Carriere
Posts: 359
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Post by Erik Carriere on Apr 30, 2012 2:26:44 GMT -5
Gerard Carriere,
Though you will never see this letter, I thought that I'd write to you. Even if I did want to send this to you, I don't think I would have any way too seeing as I have no idea as to where I currently am. What I do know though is that this place I am residing in, is a very strange place. There are other Christine Daaes here and men named Raoul de Chagny, though I have only met one of them and I have not found out if he is related to Philippe de Chagny, and most surprising is other men named Erik. Alright, its not that the name that is surprising, but the fact that all of us Eriks here ware masks.
I am not sure how any of this is possible, but it seems real enough. As far as I know, I am the only Erik here currently that looks like me, and have my kind of masks. I have only met one out of the few Erik's that are here. His name was Erik Lenoir. He had a half white mask. He seemed fairly pleasant. Then the first Christine Daae I met here, as I said that there seems to be quite a few of them, she said that some of the other Erik's were not quite as pleasant and I believe it. After all, I don't think many a man could be quite pleasant at all living underneath the Opera house for most or all of his life.
This first Christine I have met was blond like the Christine we know, surely you remember her from the night she sang at the Bistro and quite overwhelmingly but unsurprisingly beat Carlotta at singing when she tried to ruin her moment of greatness, but this one was quite different from my Christine. Then the second Christine I have met is my own. She had somehow appeared in my domain, I'll get to that explanation in a moment, she recalled leaving about the same time I had also seemingly to have left though woke here at a much later time than I did.
Now about my lair. This place has an almost exact replica of my lair. And I assume this to be the same with the other Erik's since to get to my lair, the transpiration system had a list of all the other Eriks, though I have never visited any of those other lairs. The few differences is that there was a door in the middle of one of the hallways that lead to my bedroom, that lead to hallways that lead to bedrooms that must have been in the manor. I do wonder who's rooms they belong to and what purpose they served and why my lair was linked to them. The other difference... came about from a recent event.
Christine has told me that she loves me. She even saw my face! Though, she had fainted when she first saw it and I came fairly close to taking my anger out on my replica lair here, but some how restrained. But, I did brake a mirror and ended up shredding my hands a bit. Once Christine came about from her faint, she hugged me and asked for forgiveness! Really, I though it should have been me asking her forgiveness though, for frightening her. But then she took off my mask for a second time and this time kissed my forehead. Oh things have really changed since we last spoke.
I wonder what you would think if you came here. But most of us here are mainly Eriks, Raouls, and Christines so I doubt you would show up here. Though if you did, I would certainly hope that you would know something about his place. If we are still in Paris, for sure you would know something about this place since you know quite a good deal about Paris. I am not exactly sure how I got here, none of us are. Christine said that she had tripped and hit her head before arriving here. I had fallen asleep and woke up here. This seems to be more and more unlikely that this was from a kidnapping.
After all, it would be slightly difficult I would imagine to carry around a masked man and a young woman to a strange place without getting noticed, plus all the other people. Who I don't think I mentioned before, shared quite a few similar experiences and... life style's as us. For example, the Christines seem to all be opera singers in Paris. And all the Eriks that I know of wear masks as I've said... but also live under the Paris opera house. I would love to figure out how any of this is real, and though none of it make sense, it certainly feels to real to be any strange dream or anything.
~Erik
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Raoul Jacques de Chagny
We Have All Been Blind!
"Christine, don't think that I don't care, but every prayer and every hope rests on you now..."
Posts: 73
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Post by Raoul Jacques de Chagny on Apr 30, 2012 19:04:27 GMT -5
Dearest Christine,
Oh my love, what a strange event has occurred, a very strange event indeed! Dear, where am I to begin, I haven’t got the slightest! Perhaps the beginning would be a good place to begin. I was sitting in my room at the Opera Populaire after you were kidnapped at Gala. I’d received a note from the Opera Ghost telling me to stop seeing you. I suspected the managers sent it, and demanded that they explain, only to find they had notes as well. Then Carlotta comes marching in screaming that I’d sent her a note telling her that a great misfortune would befall upon her should she try to take your place in the showing of Il Muto. Outrageous! Her claims were simply outrageous. But, back to the general point, my dear, I was sitting in my room, and now I am here. God knows where!
So far I’ve met two people in this place, which resembles a manor house of sorts. In a ballroom I came across another women with the name of Christine Daae, what are the odds? Unlike you she had blonde hair and didn’t seem to care that she was where she was. I can’t say I can say the same. She claims that there are many Raouls and Christines in this place – well Raoul de Chagnys, Vicomtes as well, and Christine Daaes…all opera singers. I’d been feeling rather ill upon hearing that, it was too much to take in.
The second person I came across is a pleasant man by the name of Erik Lenoir. He wears a half mask that is white and tells me that he has plans for the opera house at the manor. Again he didn’t seem too confused (unlike myself) at the fact that he was where he was. I don’t think I’ll ever know how the two of them can look past it. I can’t tell you much about him as I barely know much myself, but if I did I certainty would tell you my dear.
One question that has been bothering me is, why am I here? For some reason all of us are here, but why? I’m afraid I haven’t got the slightest clue. I haven’t done much exploring yet, but I plan to in the near future after I’ve gotten over the general shock of it all. In a way I’m hoping to find a way out, but I’m afraid I can’t find a way. So I guess I’ll just wander around like it seems everyone else does. I hope to see you soon my dear and hope you are faring much better than I.
Sending my love,
Raoul
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Post by Carlotta Celestia Giudicelli on May 12, 2012 2:47:54 GMT -5
((Yes, I totally stole her lawyer's name from “Le farce de Maître Patlin”))
To Messieurs André and Firmin,
Before you once again begin to consider giving my position to that ingénue, let me remind you that the contract I have with the Opéra Populaire clearly does not expire until March of next year and that such a thing is legally impossible. Should you actually go through with such a thing, expect to be contacted by my layer, Maître Patlin.
I have not abandoned the opera, as you may think. I am simply taking a brief holiday. It was an early birthday present from my dear sister, who I have not seen in quite some time, and who wished to surprise me, and believe me, I was quite surprised!
I am afraid that I am unable to share with you the location of my holiday, as I am not yet quite sure of it myself. Though believe me, I do not intend to be gone for long. I have a sneaking suspicion that that your new patron, the Vicomte de Chagny, had a hand in this little “surprise.” Once I return to Paris (which will be quite soon, I assure you), I expect to be immediately re-cast into my usual role as the leading lady in whichever production is upcoming. If I recall correctly, that is to be Meyerbeer's Roberto le Diable.
Please be sure that the cleaning staff does not slack off in maintaining my dressing room in my absence and that my paid holidays be used during this time.
I also expect that you, as managers, are doing all in your power to find a way to prevent the “accidents” which have been occurring for the past three years to come to a halt. This holiday I am taking will not only give you ample time to correct this, but also to discover the identity of this “O.G” who has written to me with such contempt, as I showed you yesterday before the gala.
When I do return, I trust that there shall be no more outrageous notes, falling get pieces, missing costumes, etc.. It is the duty of the both of you to see to it that such things are fixed immediately.
Cordially,
~Signora Carlotta Celestia Giudicelli
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Post by ciera800 on May 14, 2012 18:31:02 GMT -5
Christine sighed and she sat alone in her private room in eriks domain. She had been quite done for the evning and needed to be by herself if only for a little while, to think over all that had happened since arriving here at the manor.
Her thoughts began to drift through many different memories of her short time here as she prepared for bed. She had met so many people who were all very interesting indeed. Some she were fond of....others....well not so much. She recalled the run in she had become involved in with the youngest christine, who in a fit of frustration had yelled at her and made her feel quite alone and useless though she dared not tell anyone how truly she was hurt.
Then of course there was the vicomtesse who had been so kind and understanding, patiently listening to her problems and soothing her fears, because of her remarkable patience and loving nature christine had already adopted her as a mother figure who she was grateful to have around.
And of course one could not forget her very own Erik who she could now refer to as hers truthfully. Having been simply intimate aquaintences or close friends when they both arrived here, the manor had pushed them closer, caused them to become protective of the other and both wanting to constantly be with the other. In so doing christine had realized her long buried feelings for him, feelings she had tried to deny in fear of being rejected and losing him forever.
She remembered how scared she was the day she had confessed to him and yet how joyous he was upon hearing her confession, to realize she had no need to have waited at all, that he had been quite impatient as it was to hear her tell him he loved her!
Then of course she had kind of spoiled the moment by demanding to see his face and being totally unprepared for what lie behind she had fainted leaving eriks heart in peices all around the floor. She had awoken to a tormented, angry, and heart broken erik who had cut his fists after breaking a mirror in rage!
She tended dillegently to his arms and hands wrapping them in bandages before begging his forgivness and a second chance at his love and upon being granted such she felt desirous to prove she could handle his face if she had to faint five more times in the process!
In doing so she had managed to turn the worst situation into the best, for she had indeed not fainted, han dled his face calmly and kissed it, securing his everlasting affection it seemed with that one simple gesture!
Coming to this manor had also brought hardships though, mostly by making her aware of things that she would have rather remained ignorant of......phillipes love for her.
She had found out thanks to the moving picture that phillipe had not simply sent her to paris in an effort to get her to spend the night with him in thanks, he had done it because he had thought her voice truly was amazing, even telling one of his friends that she, "was different from the rest", convincing carlotta to give her voice lessons since he was unaware of her complete lack of talent. It made things so difficult now for if they ever returned home how would she choose, and was it even fair to be with erik while her heart was untrue to only him?
Christine sighed and crawled in bed. Time would only tell what would happen and she could only keep on living both this nightmare and dream they had been thrust into.
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on May 24, 2012 5:35:12 GMT -5
Dearest mother, I'm practicing my letter-writing again, see? I do love writing to you, mother. Father and I are still looking for you. I am very glad that father found me too. I had run off with Mr. Squelch, Miss Fleck, and Dr. Gangle to go see Mr. Y's workshop while you were talking with your friend and then was very frightened when Mr. Y took off his mask in front of me. I ran away and was crying and then I was in a library where Father found me. We've been looking for you ever since. Father left me in his room for now, while he went to go get me a snack from the kitchen because I was very hungry. But it is quite boring here in father's room. I miss you so much, mother. Look! I drew a picture of a beautiful butterfly for you. When we do find you, can you hang it up on the wall? Love, GUSTAVE  |
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Christine Svenna Daaé
Twisted every way, what answer can I give?
Screw being ladylike; Imma Pageboy!
Posts: 230
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Post by Christine Svenna Daaé on May 24, 2012 5:45:58 GMT -5
Dear Madame Giry,
Something very strange has happened to me.
I recall being onstage at the Opera Populaire during the final bows for Il Muto when the chandelier fell and nearly crushed me to death. You were there that evening and know as well as I that I have Monsieur le Vicomte de Chagny to thank for even being alive at this very moment, but it is not the chandelier falling which was so strange, nor was it Joseph Buquet's death, nor Carlotta's strange toad noises which are the very strange thing that I am referring to.
When I came to after having fainted when Raoul pushed me out of the way, I awoke within the opera house, but it was not the opera house which you and I both know. Monsieur de Chagny was there and explained to me that we were somehow in the future and in England. Needless to say, I find this whole thing rather confusing, and I know that you probably do as well.
Either way, please have no concern as to my well-being, as I assure you I am quite well here and in the mean time, I send you and Meg my love.
Hugs and Kisses
~Christine Svenna Daaé
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