The Grande Tour ( Leroux Christine )

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

Raoul took off his hat as he entered the manor again, navigating his way through the winding hallways. He had just met yet another Christine, again adding to the already present evidence of a sort for his theory that there were different universes. This one had most of the same memories as the others, and she obviously wasn’t the one that he had seen perform Hannibal as they didn’t recognize each other at all. Granted, he doubted that she had seen him up in his box, but surely after him recounting the story of the scarf at the beach she would recognize him when they did meet again.

But right now all he wanted to do was get back to Paris. He would sort out what exactly was happening later. Until then he had to keep his promise to show Christine Daaé—the one that he had argued with for nearly half an hour—to the dining room. He already made a note not to mention the Populaire itself in running conversation, as that would just set off another tiring debate. He would try to avoid the subject of opera altogether…even though that really left nothing for them to talk about. Raoul could not really label himself as the quiet type, but nor was he boisterous. He was sociable now—unlike how he had been as a child, and awkward silences were just…awkward. Thus he would eventually have to come up with some suitable subject for them to talk about.

He decided upon the mansion in general as he approached her door. Checking his watch, he noted that it was four o’clock sharp. He returned the watch to his pocket in his waistcoat before lightly knocking twice on the door with his knuckles. “Miss Daaé? Are you ready?” he asked, holding his hat behind his back as he teetered up and down on his toes, waiting for her to answer.

[Christine Daaé]

It was around four o'clock in the afternoon, in what felt to Christine like two days after she had first arrived at the manor, when there came a tap on the door of the room which she had come to know as her chambers (since it was where she had first awoken and where she had slept since), when there came a tap at the door and the sound of the other Raoul's voice. "Just a moment," she said, as she pinned up her hair with a few pins she had found lying around on a desk.

She was dressed in a deep burgundy long-sleeved day dress with white lace around the high collar and sleeves. There was a dark brown ribbon sash and velvet detail in the same shade down every tier of the skirt. There was also a pleated ruffle in the same burgundy along each tier, and a burgundy gauzy bustle. It was a very warm dress. Much better than the nightgown she had been wearing before. She and the other woman who had claimed to be Christine -- the smaller one, not Ellen -- had found it after some digging. They had also found a pair of shoes that matched, but they were a bit big, so Christine had stuffed the toes with little bits of discarded parchment paper she had found lying around. It wasn't the most comfortable of footwear, but it was much better than going around barefoot, as she had been.

After finishing pinning up her hair, Christine splashed a bit of water on her face to freshen up a little, then dried off and went to go open the door. When she did so, she saw the other Raoul standing here, teetering up and down on his toes with his hands behind his back. She couldn't help but to chuckle a bit. "What are you doing?" she asked. He looked like a little boy waiting impatiently to receive sweets after he had been promised.

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

Raoul stumbled backward when the door finally opened and the woman laughed at him. It was then that he became conscious of what he had been doing for the past few minutes and immediately ceased the motion, ruffling his light hair in a slight fit of embarrassment before laying it down flat. “Just, er…waiting I suppose.” he replied, clearing his throat as he did so. “I trust you found something to wear then.” he observed with a nod. “You look lovely.” he commented genuinely with a smile.

“I think you will be happy to know that I have found a way out of this place—there is a garden as I have said before, and I took a look around and found a hidden gate that leads to a road, and I’m fairly certain that that road will lead to a town. I intend to use it within the next few days and see if I can get some help from the villagers. I will write a letter to some of my officer friends on your fiancé’s behalf and hand it off to the post once I get there.” he stated, tucking his hat under his arm.

“Now then, the dining room is just this way.” He jerked his head in the direction of said room and started down the hallway. “If you’ll just follow me.”

[Christine Daaé]

Christine smiled and gave a small nod in acknowledgement of his compliment. "Thank you, monsieur," she said politely. Christine was in a much better mood, now that she was clothed, warm, and had had something to drink. Granted, she was still hungry, but overall in a much more pleasant. Granted, anyone would be a bit edgy if they had woken up in a strange place, miles from home, where the your day started off my a strange man walking in on you while you were in a night dress, and where there were people everywhere you turned who just so happened to supposedly have the exact same names of people you knew quite well, yet they were clearly not those people!

Her eyes darkened though when he mentioned his plans about the letter and the village. A few days? Raoul didn't have much time! Would a few days be soon enough for something that may determine her fiancé's life... Christine wasn't so sure. The thought frightened her that perhaps the letter would not arrive in time...

She snapped back into attention however when he started to walk down the hall. "Oh! of course!" And she hurried after him down the hallway, walking at a quick pace to catch up. It didn't help that her legs were much shorter than his and that the shoes she were wearing were too big...

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

He did catch the look in her eyes when he mentioned his intentions concerning the letter. He tilted his head at her. “Does that displease you, Mademoiselle? I thought you wanted me to write to his commanding officers on his behalf?” he asked, confused as to why she could be upset. He was doing the best he could for this man who strangely enough shared his name, and his former profession—it wasn’t as if he could simply whisk himself off to Paris now and tell these men to pardon him in person. This was all he could do for now. He assumed she was worried, which was understandable. “Mademoiselle, I am confident that we are not far from Paris and the letter will get there soon enough.”

He looked over his shoulder again, and saw that she had fallen behind. Hiding an amused smirk, he turned around and waited patiently for her to catch up, realizing that if he didn’t, then there was quite a large possibility that she may get lost. “At least we can be certain now that there is a way out of this place. I have to make arrangements before I do but I am going to see if I can find the village that the owners of this manor get their provisions from. Perhaps there is someone there who would be willing to help us.”

[Christine Daaé]

"No! Not at all, Monsieur," she said, practically running to catch up with him, stopping only briefly to slip her shoe back on. The wretched things... "I'm only afraid that 'soon enough' will not be soon enough. How long does it usually take after the arrest for a man to be tried for treason?" The expedition to the North Pole was scheduled to leave very soon, and if Raoul had chosen to stay as he had initially planned... Christine didn't want to think about the possibility that Raoul could be dead within the nest few days. He had risked everything so they could be married... and now she wasn't even there for that to happen.

“Do you really think that they will be able to help?” she asked him, quite happy when he stopped for a moment so she could catch up. After all, she was fairly certain that no one in any small neighboring village would ever have had to deal with such a thing as this. With a kidnapping on such a grand scale... What if the villagers did not even speak French? What if they spoke some other language which none of them knew? Or worse yet, their captor discovered the plans for escape?

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

“How long…well, that all depends—when did you say his ship was supposed to leave?” Raoul asked, glancing over at the woman. If it left within a few days then if he had been arrested for desertion he would probably be tried and executed within about a week or so. That didn’t leave them much time. He was resolved to visit the village either today or tomorrow, just to send the letter. “You don’t know for sure that he has been arrested for anything, do you?” he questioned again. That certainly made all the difference—he understood her concerns, and he would send a letter to Paris as soon as he could, but he didn’t want her to worry over something that may not even happen.

“I am certain that they will.” he replied with a confident nod. “Once I explain the situation to them, my colleagues will be sure to intervene.” The men he spoke of were all level-headed, good leaders, who cared about the men under their authority. They would be more than willing to speak with this man’s commanding officers. What was yet to be determined was whether the man’s commanding officers would listen. But he was certain that if he pulled some strings, he may be able to secure his clemency. “Really, Mademoiselle, there is no reason to worry. Now that we know that there is a way out, it will be much easier to get transport to Paris and leave this place. Depending on how close we are I can deliver the message to my friends personally if need be.”

[Christine Daaé]

To Christine, it had been two days before when she had met this other Monsieur de Chagny. She had been wondering what had kept him so long, but didn't ask. That would have been rude. besides, they didn't know each other very well at all, so it was natural that he might have made other 'more important' appointments which interfered with him meeting her at the time he had initially stated. Yes, it was about the same time of day, but it was not the same day at all... She had told him though when the voyage left before, but perhaps he had forgotten? " The expedition is set to leave tomorrow. Today was the day we were scheduled to leave Paris..."

"I don't believe he has been arrested yet, not unless someone found out about our plans and told the authorities..." And then she sighed. She knew there wasn't much time. She just didn't know how little of it was left... She nodded, distant in thought, as he reassured her of his faith in his friends to speak to Raoul's commanding officers. She only hoped that his faith in them was well founded...

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

“Tomorrow?” Raoul stopped walking and raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You didn’t say it was tomorrow!” he exclaimed. That would certainly make things a lot harder. Even if he did go today, there was no guarantee that his letter would get to Paris by tomorrow. In fact he was almost certain that it wouldn’t. Then again…he was three and a half hours away from Paris, wasn’t he? It had taken that long to get here from there, and if he was able to get transportation back then surely it would take just as long. Unless he had come by railroad…but there couldn’t be any stations around here, and he knew that they were nowhere near a big city. He had not heard any whistles or engines. He hadn’t even heard any horses, so he wasn’t sure just how far away this village could be.

“But you don’t want to wait until that happens. I understand completely Mademoiselle. Just allow me to warn my friend of Erik’s intentions and I shall go immediately to send the message.” he replied when she responded to his inquiry as to whether this officer had been arrested yet. “If necessary I will deliver the message in person. Ah, here we are.” His tone changed from serious to pleasant when they arrived at the dining room door. He opened it for her and swept his arm out as he gestured to the table as well as the door in the back leading to the kitchen. “The glorious dining room…I’ll admit it’s a bit strange…and the kitchen as well. But then again mostly everything here is.” The dining room itself looked normal—a long table, chairs, a small chandelier that lit the room—but the kitchen had these odd machines. The stove was like no stove he had ever seen before, and the icebox held foods he had never even heard of before arriving here.

[Christine Daaé]

Christine opened her mouth to protest that she had told him (after all, why wouldn't she when her fiancé's life was at stake), but she kept silent. The last thing she wanted was for him to become cross with her and change his mind about helping her fiancé, and so she merely bit her lip instead. It was a curious thing. She was normally such an outgoing and adamant young lady, but when Raoul was in danger... she would become so submissive. Even before they were engaged, she entreated Erik so much on Raoul's behalf, her last request after she had agreed to become his wife, before he had allowed her to be free, she begged that the only thing she received in return was that he spared Raoul's life. She would have done anything at all she was told to do if it meant that he would be safe...

In regard to his comment about not wanting to wait until Raoul had been arrested, she nodded softly. " Thank you, monsieur, for understanding the urgency. I... I don't know what I'd ever do if he..." She stopped short. She hated even thinking those words, much less saying them aloud. if he ever died...

But pushing this thought aside, she looked around as they entered the dining room. She had been there twice before. The first time was simply trying to find somewhere to sit down and rest, when she encountered a woman who was clearly not completely right in the head, and the second time had been to have tea with a woman who she had met previously in the ballroom. Both of these women claimed to be Christine Daaé, which did not cease to frustrate her.

Though Christine had been in the dining hall, she had never actually set foot in the kitchen before. She could cook, but she didn't do it very often any more. With Mamma Valérius having lost use of her legs, and Christine singing at the opera, they had hired a maid who took care of most of those sorts of things...

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

“Of course.” Raoul inclined his head when the woman thanked him for agreeing to help. “Happy to be of service.” He did note what she was saying, and he shook his head. “You needn’t worry about that, Mademoiselle, I will do everything I can to secure his release. I promise.” He figured this would do little to assuage her fears, so he changed the subject. “But as I said before, this is the dining room…not a bad one I would say…it is the kitchen that’s particularly troubling…” he stated as he entered the room after her. He was actually a bit hungry—he wanted to find Christine, meaning Christine Ellen, but he supposed he had time for a snack and a short tour. It wasn’t as if either of them really could leave, so finding her wouldn’t be too much of a problem.

The reason he found the kitchen so troubling was the only things he knew how to make were potatoes—which were a staple on his voyages, and as a common sailor he had often gotten the much-hated job of peeling them—as well as sandwiches, eggs, and canned goods. Naturally these had been the main foods he had eaten in his time here. He did take tea—which was absolutely his favorite beverage—but not as often as he had at home.

However he was happy that there was food here in the first place, so he didn’t really complain. Nonetheless he longed for at least the cuisine he was used to at home.
“Are you hungry, Mademoiselle?” he asked, folding his hands behind his back as he glanced over at her, watching as she examined the room. He had not planned on eating an entire meal, just showing her the dining room—as she said—and whatever other parts of the mansion she was curious to see. After all, his knowledge of cooking was rather limited, and the prospect of them sharing a meal was…awkward at the least after their last conversation.

[Christine Daaé]

Christine nodded in acknowledgement as the man spoke, looking him in the eyes, but her own were distant, like her thoughts, as if looking almost through him. Past him... Pensive and full of worry, still unsure of whether she would ever see her beloved again. But then her brow furrowed a bit at his statement about the kitchen. "What makes it so troubling?" she asked. The child's attention seemed to be diverted, or at least for the time being. She had seen the dining room, and it appeared to be quite normal (if not, a bit over-sized for the number of people there seemed to be residing withing the manor), but she had never been inside of the kitchen. She had only seen the two who claimed to be Christine walked in and out of it.

Christine was hungry. She hadn't eaten since dinner the evening before she arrived. She had had a bit of tea, with the smaller "Christine" (for lack of any other name to call her), but that was it. It wasn't much. "I... am actually," she admitted, which was difficult for her. She really didn't like the prospect of being forced to suddenly trust so many strange people she did not know, but, after all, this man had offered a way for her husband to escape punishment for desertion. Perhaps she and Raoul wouldn't even have to leave Paris now... That was, if they ever saw each other again and if they ever got back to Paris... and then, of course, there was also the matter that several of the authorities had suspicion that it was, in fact, Raoul who killed Philippe. Though that was preposterous! The Raoul she knew would not kill a man in cold blood, especially not his own brother...

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

“What makes it so troubling, you ask? Well, I think you’ll find that some of the items inside are rather odd—let me show you.” Raoul rounded the table and opened the door to said kitchen. Inside was a stove, a rather strange looking icebox, and a few things that he wouldn’t be able to name if he tried. Once of such was a peculiar box of sorts that would heat up whenever one pressed the ‘ON’ button. He had never actually used it for anything, only tested it to see what it did, but he surmised that it was for cooking food. Nevertheless it was like no kitchen tool he had ever seen.

“The stove for one thing—is not powered by wood. However it does work fine. What’s curious is that I have not heard of half of the foods in that icebox. I have settled on the canned goods in these cabinets here—as well as potatoes, and of course eggs and tea with my breakfast.” Of course those were pretty much the only foods he knew how to prepare but he wasn’t about to tell her that. He began opening some of the cabinets that held the cans and glanced back at Christine. “Is there anything in particular that you have an appetite for? There are a lot of soups here actually—canned soup, can you believe it? I tried it once…horrible, just horrible—especially this French onion…it’s an insult, is what it is, trying to pass this off as the real thing. There are also some vegetables here as well.”

[Christine Daaé]

Christine looked over the kitchen appliances with curiosity, not quite venturing out so far as to touch any of them, but she was certainly tempted to. So many flashing lights and knobs and buttons... They looked so surreal and futuristic. And they were all bright and shining whites and blacks, and sleek, steel metal. Christine had never seen anything like it before! A few of the appliances had glowing numbers on them, green in color.

Christine frowned at his comment about the stove. "Is it a gas stove then?" It was possible. They were fairly knew, though she had seen them a few times. There was one in the house on the lake, in fact. Though she had never seen a gas stove that looked anything like this before... "I don't really care much what food at this point... as long as there is no garlic or red meats."

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

Raoul stared at Christine blankly. “A gas stove?” he repeated, his voice reflecting his confusion. “As in a stove powered by gas? I have never heard of such a thing…only wood burning stoves and coal stoves…” His own estate had a cast iron wood burning stove, and even then, he was not the one using it—it was the chef. In fact, other than when he was in the Marine Nationale, he had never cooked his own meals. Even while a sailor, the majority of his meals came from the ship’s cook—the only time he had ever cooked was when he had kitchen patrol. Yet even then the cook rarely let him near the stove—he was usually assigned to cleaning dishes or potato peeling.

He nodded when she said that she did not much care what sort of food she had as long as it didn’t include garlic or red meat. “I trust you are not very fond of Italian cuisine then?” he asked as he began opening up various cabinets for something to eat. Most of the canned items were beans and vegetables—he had eaten the latter at first, and then he began adding sandwiches to his diet so that he could still eat meat, but since his culinary skills were limited that was pretty much the only sort of food he had eaten since coming here. “Aha! What is this?” He withdrew a differently labeled can from the cabinet with a picture of a fish. “Chicken of the Sea…tuna?” he read, eyebrows knitting together in bewilderment. “Canned tuna?” He didn’t know whether to be disgusted or glad that there was something different to eat. “Well then…do you like fish, Mademoiselle?”