I was very hungry (Erika Urban)

[Christine Daaé]

Christine began meandering her way to the kitchen again. She hadn't eaten yet that day, and it was just after lunch time now, so she was very hungry. Perhaps she could find some more of that thing that she and the other Raoul had made the day before. She remembered all of the instructions fairly clearly, and the thing actually didn't taste half bad, so if she could find another box, she would be fine. She remembered what the picture looked like, and that it had said 'tuna' on it. Finding another one shouldn't be too difficult...

Upon arriving in the kitchen, Christine was fortunate enough to find another box of the pasta concoction from before, along with two more cans of tuna in one of the cupboards. She went into the ice box and searched through, finding a large clear glass bottle full of a yellow beverage. Luckily enough, this one had a label in French. Citron... It was some sort of a gaseous lemon flavored beverage.

She took the beverage out of the ice box and set it on the counter with the box of pasta and the tuna cans, then got a chair to reach a pot. When she had got the pot down, and found the can opener, she began to make the tuna and pasta concoction from before and searched for a glass to pour out some of the limonade.

[jilltheripper]

Erika had not quite figured out the place, and thus hadn't even found her home. If she did indeed have one and that unfriendly floating fellow hadn't lied to her.

She stumbled out of the wine cellar which opened into a huge scullery which she recognized vaguely from the night before. The headache she had was splintering, and the railroad spike drove harder with every step she took.

Groaning, Erika tucked her mask under her arm and unlatched the wooden door leading into the sunny kitchen. The smell of boiling water and fish drifted over her and warmed her bare shoulders the moment she stepped in. She slowly came forward timid on her bare, bandaged feet.

"Hallo? Er, bonjour?" she groaned, one hand on her forehead as she squinted to see who was cooking in the kitchen. She saw the back of a nicely dressed girl, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. Erika lowered her hand, her large amber eyes staring curiously. She had stopped caring whether she scared people--this place scared her.

[Christine Daaé]

((Operation posts so Dalimar can come to the manor has commenced))

Christine was stirring the pasta when she heard a woman's voice groan a hello from behind her. “Bonjour,” she said without turning, still tending carefully to her cooking. “Are you feeling well, Madame? You sound a bit ill...”

Christine took that odd cold melted cheese packet and opened it, then squeezed it out over the pasta like she and the imposter Monsieur de Chagny had dome when they'd made the concoction together previously. She couldn't read the English of the instructions, but her memory was quite good, so she trusted she should be able to recreate the dish, especially considering how simple it was.

“Are you hungry at all? There's more than enough here for two, probably three.” granted, she didn't recognize the voice she was speaking to, but it really was no issue. As she had said, there was more than enough there and it seemed like such a waste to have to get rid of any leftover. If the woman was hungry, Christine would be more than happy to let her eat too. A meal and no food gone to waste: everyone wins.

[jilltheripper]

((We can call it ...Operation Robotic Chandelier...))

Erika crept closer, wincing when the woman spoke. Her voice wasn't so bad, though--it was lovely, actually. The timbre spoke to Erika the story of a voice trained with love and not with strict lessons and unfeeling sheets of paper. It was somewhat of a pleasant surprise. But she spoke French, and Erika knew little of it.

"Yes--er, oui..." she said softly, the smell of whatever the girl was making causing her stomach to rumble painfully. Erika's bottom lip trembled but she managed not to whimper. Gott, everything hurt.

She sighed deeply and set her mask on one of the counters, rubbing her aching cheeks. Hm. It hadn't occurred to her that she might have ripped open her scars... She didn't remember that part.

"What is it?" Erika inquired in her heavily accented French. She'd never liked the French, really--her father had always called them "cheese eating surrender monkeys". This girl seemed nice, though she had to remember that she hadn't seen her face yet. Erika covered her mouth with one gloved hand, self conscious, and kept her distance from the stove.

[Christine Daaé]

((Then operation Robotic chandelier is a go XD ))

“I'm not sure I could tell you, to be quite honest,” Christine said, stirring in the cheese. “My English isn't very good, but there was a man who helped me to make it the other day. It's some sort of a cheesy pasta with tuna and vegetables in it. I know it sounds bizarre, but it is actually quite good, or at least it was the last time...”

She turned the little knob to the off position like she remembered having done before and took the skillet full of pasta off of the heat, setting it aside, then wiping her hands on the towel. She had noticed the woman's accent didn't seem French. Her own still had a touch of her native Swedish, but it wasn't very noticeable unless you were specifically listening for it. “I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Christine Daaé. I couldn't help but notice... French isn't your native language, is it? Talar du svenska?”

It was asking this that Christine turned around and couldn't help but to give a gasp in shock at the sight of the woman's face. It was covered in scars and seemed almost patched back together in places with a part of her cheek ripped open. She staggered a bit where she stood from the site of it all. It looked as if something had mauled part of her face. Her head was shaven and, overall, she looked a bit strange and frightening. Christine attempted a smile at the woman. She seemed pleasant enough to speak to, but to look at was an entirely different story and so she turned away again for a moment.

[jilltheripper]

Erika grunted at the woman's reaction and hunched over a little, rubbing her shoulder. She glanced at her sharply, daring her to say anything, and watched the nervous smile come to her face. "No, I don't. I speak German, however," she mumbled, going to the stove calmly and looking at the pot. It was obvious that she didn't feel comfortable around anything in the kitchen, especially the things that exuded heat.

"And Polish," she added, her voice barely audible. She could barely smell it with what was left of her nose... It seemed strange, pasta and cheese. She'd never liked the Italians either.

Finally, she looked over at Christine and noticed that she had looked away. Smart girl. Erika had struggled for years over the question of whether she wanted people to notice and accept her or just pretend it wasn't there, but she had since realized that she preferred the latter. Any "acceptance" was just condescension, or god forbid pity. She would appreciate not speaking of it far far more than having some bloody idiot act like they understand.

"I'm afraid I haven't properly introduced myself," Erika said stiffly, backing up to go get her mask. "And I owe you that, at least." She contemplated putting the contraption back on but decided against it.

"I'm Erika. Just Erika."

[Christine Daaé]

Christine nodded curtly and then turned back to the stove where the skillet of pasta was. “It is good to meet you then, Fauline Erika,” she said, removing the lid from the skillet and giving it a quick stir to make sure that it had thickened. Good to meet you... To be quite honest, she wasn't sure whether it could be called 'good' or not, but the woman didn't seem at all ill-tempered...

“Ich spreche bissechen Deutche,” Christine said in somewhat broken German as she went to the cupboard to get a couple of plates and glasses. I speak a little German... She knew a bit of the language from working in the opera. She had to, really, since there were a few roles in German operas that she had learned. That and she was required to take German diction during her time at the Conservatiore.

She returned to the stove to dish up the plates. She returned to the stove and saw how nervous the woman seemed. “It isn't poison if that's what you're thinking...” she said, making an effort to use her German. Her Swedish accent was more obvious when she spoke in German. The two languages were very similar, and she didn't have much experience in actually speaking German, and so there were moments where she ended up reverting back to her native tongue, especially for words that were nearly identical in both languages, perhaps with slight differences in pronunciation.

She began to dish up the pasta onto the two plates.

[jilltheripper]

Erika had to look away when she continued to work on the food in the pot, crossing her arms not to close herself off but rather to comfort herself. It was all going to be alright. This girl couldn't hurt her, and nothing in the kitchen could hurt her... it was alright.

She couldn't help but feel that churning in her stomach, though. The same feeling she had when she went to bathe.

Christine Daae. For some reason, it was a very familiar name... something about the initials... Erika shook her head slightly and looked over at Christine. She looked familiar too.

Erika cleared her throat and nodded hopefully when Christine mentioned that she spoke German. "Good, good." Slightly less of her Polish accent came out when she spoke German, but more of Christine's Swedish emerged. It brought a little smile to the Opera Ghost's face.

The smile faltered when Christine seemed to notice that she was nervous around the food. "Oh, no... it's not that," she said with a little shake of her head. "I just... it's silly." Erika put a hand over her mouth again, trying to hide just how demented her smile really was. Her pale cheeks went the slightest bit pink, and her brow furrowed stiffly.

"Fraulein Daae... have we met?"

[Christine Daaé]

((The initials are also that for “Charles Dalimar” XD *randomness* Yes, I know that's not what you were referring to though.))

Christine decided that it would be better to continue in German. She could speak enough to keep up conversation, although she was certain she must sound a little funny to the other woman. Her suspicions were confirmed when a small smile came to the woman's face (which she caught only briefly, as she was trying to avoid gawking at it), and the girl couldn't help but to blush a little in embarrassment. Nailing foreign accents had never been her specialty, which was part of the reason why she didn't sing many German roles – it was difficult for her.

Christine paused a moment when the woman asked if they had previously met. There was a vague familiarity about here, but Christine could not quite put her finger on it. “I do not believe so,” she said “I never forget a face... Although there is something familiar about you, though I can't quite place...” It was true! Christine never forgot a face, though names would sometimes elude her. She could recognize every single person who worked at the opera, and made an effort to try to get to know them all – their little quirks and hobbies, their families, their daily jobs...

Then it struck Christine that what she had said to this woman could have been taken with a bit of offense. “I'm sorry,” she said, quickly apologizing before the woman could say anything about it. “I meant no offense by the statement, I assure you.”

Quickly, she finished dishing up the two plates and set them on the table, then went to go get a couple of glasses. “Would you like some?” Christie asked, signifying the bottle of limonade she had gotten out previously, hoping to change the subject. “Apparently it's some sort of sparking lemon beverage. I haven't tried it yet, but it sounded interesting.”

[jilltheripper]

“I never forget a face..."

Erika grunted a bit, looking away. As if Fraulein Daae would ever be able to forget her face. All things considered, the girl was being exceptionally polite... and there was something about the way she acted that seemed more and more familiar by the minute.

“I'm sorry, I meant no offense by the statement, I assure you.”

"Don't worry," the ghost said with a little wave of her hand, leaning hesitantly on the counter. "I'm not exactly a face to forget." And she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Erika watched Christine dish out the pasta with a little distaste--she needed to eat, but did she really need to eat now? It wasn't the most attractive sight in the world, her scarred jaws dropping open and chomping down. The scars moved very strangely when she ate. She actually wanted Fraulein Daae to be able to keep her food down.

She smiled softly when Christine told her about the lemonade she had found, without realizing how darling she found her at first. The shock crept up on her as she explained: "It's lemonade," Erika said softly. She remembered little boys who would carry coolers of it on their backs, and who would sell it to her when she was just a girl. "If you heat it up and add honey, it does wonders for a sore throat..."

And then it hit her. Christine Daae, the beautiful woman who stood before her, could have been Conrad Daecher's twin sister, both in manner and in looks. Erika stared at the girl for a moment, feeling a horrible stinging in the corners of her eyes.

[Christine Daaé]

Christine bit her lip a little, not making eye contact when the woman said how she wasn't exactly a face one would forget. Rather than responding, she gave a quick not and kept her eyes averted from the woman's face and its tremendous scaring.

She listened to, but dare not look at the woman as she poured the yellow beverage into two tall glasses. “Lemonade...” she repeated softly, tasting the way the word felt on her tongue in German. She wondered if there was a French equivalent to the word.

Christine took the two plates to the table and set them down before returning for the glasses. After setting the glasses down beside the plates, she went back to go search the drawers for some cutlery, still doing her best to keep her eyes averted, not wanting to seem like she was gawking.

If you heat it up and add honey, it does wonders for a sore throat... “You don't say... I shall have to keep that in mind the next time my throat is sore...”

Christine couldn't help but to feel the woman's gaze seem to fix upon her and so she turned to look, seeing tears beginning to form in the eyes of that mangled up face. Oh dear.... what had she said this time?.... “Are.... Are you all right, Erika?”

[jilltheripper]

Erika averted her amber eyes, brighter now that she was becoming increasingly more sober. Had Christine caught her staring? What would he have done if he'd seen her staring? She imagined he would be quite concerned and try to give her a hug. But she didn't want a hug from Fraulein Daae--it would remind her far too much of him and how he wasn't there.

She debated for a moment on whether or not she should tell her why she was upset. Erika tipped her head back a little, as if willing her tears to fall back into her eyes. She just winced at the light ahead and made things much worse. "You just..." She raised the back of her hand to clear the tears away before they fell, still trying to look casual. "You just remind me of someone."

That was all she dared say. She didn't want to give Christine the wrong idea--and she could easily get the wrong idea, considering she looked and acted exactly like the man she was madly in love with and yearned for increasingly.

Instead, she stepped forward and took the bowl of pasta in one hand and managed the glass of lemonade between her arm and her chest, her other hand occupied with holding her gasmask by the nozzle. Finally, Erika felt as though she might not cry, and took a deep breath.

[Christine Daaé]

Christine looked at the woman, trying to examine her closely without staring at her face for too long, though it was quite a difficult feat, as she usually liked to make eye contact with the person with whom she was speaking. It was just a thing of common courtesy.

You just... You just remind me of someone...

The girl couldn't help but to fall a bit in spirit at this statement. Of course she reminded her of someone. Everyone here seemed to know someone like her, but not her. No one knew her. Apparently she wasn't even herself, as there was an abundance of other women about the manor claiming that they were in fact Christine Daaé.

“Oh....” she said simply. “And who exactly” – dare she ask – “is it that I remind you of?... I'm sorry if my question seems a bit rude, but... I'm just.... curious, I suppose...”

The woman's next actions, however, confused Christine a bit, for she once more took up the bowl and glass. “Fraulein Erika? Do you need any help at all? It would be terribly unfortunate for you to drop something. Here...”

She offered a hand out, hoping that she would accept the gesture, or at east explain to her what she was doing...

[jilltheripper]

Erika groaned slightly. As the booze began to wear off, the pain relief that came with it also did. Her left side ticked and threatened to make her collapse if it wasn't supported soon. That damn American...

"You have your own things to carry," she said quietly, and staggered to the dining table in the adjacent room, setting all of her things down. She leaned on the table and held her side, biting her tongue. She figured Christine would still want an answer to her question about who she reminded her of, and so she waited for her to come in as well.

Erika had taken a seat by that time, her things out in front of her and her mask next to her bowl. She played with the fraying edges of the placemat, before mustering the courage to speak about Conrad: "A boy I used to know," she said. "He was very handsome and kind, like you."

It was obvious that the topic upset her, and so now she just sat in front of her food with her hands in her lap, trying to think of a way to eat this without scaring her. It would be terribly rude not to eat any, because she'd made it, and she'd taken everything with grace and was polite. But still...

[Christine Daaé]

Christine bit her lips and carried her plate in silence. This Erika didn't seem much to like help of any sort. It reminded her of someone she knew, but she could not quite place her finger on who. Instead, she moved silently and set her things on the table and sat. looking at the other woman.

She listened as she spoke about this boy that she reminded her of, but her mile quickly faded when she glanced up and saw how upset the other woman seemed. “I'm sorry. You... you must miss him,” she said. At least, that's how it seemed from the fond way in which Erika spoke of him.

She couldn't help but to feel a little awkward in the moment, a dreadfully still silence falling between the two of them. Trying to think of what she could do, she looked up again and managed a smile. “We should probably say grace before eating... if you should care to join me?” She crossed herself, still looking at the other woman, wondering how she would react.[/b]”