Erik Castagne
When you sing, the angels weep...
When you sing, the angels weep...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Castagne on Jul 19, 2012 22:16:07 GMT -5
Erik was wandering about a bit, trying to get a feel for this place. He had not yet found a way to leave the place and found that strange. How difficult could it be to walk away from a mansion?
Erik had found the way outside once before and had entered the woods and met the little Roselin. But he had not explored further than that outside of the mansion. It was a dark, starless night and that suited Erik just fine. He took a different turn thhis time and found himself in a lovely garden. Many colours of roses bloomed there and then as one walked, more and more varieties of flowers could be seen. Continuing to walk to the end of the gardens, he saw a far off stone building and stone crosses and monuments in front of it. Interesting. The house had its own graveyard. He walked toward the area and thought, At least no one will bother me here. The dead will not bother me or disparage me, for I resemble them.
Erik walked closer to the graveyard until he could read the names. Of course none of them looked familiar. Oddly, they were both in French and English. It made him wonder, is this place in France? How near to Paris were they?
He walked between the graves respectfully. Stopping at the mausoleum, he noticed the door ajar. He entered , noticing several pieces of cut rope on the floor. Very odd. He came out again and stood, just surveying the landscape. The gardens where he had come from were on one side, the house on another. He could see from this distance a small broken down gazebo and a tiny lake. He stood quietly and in one place for some time. It was peaceful here, no one talking, no noise but the tiny sounds of the insects, the night birds' sounds, and the silent yellow flash of fireflies.
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maria
Full Member
That spitfire American!
Posts: 114
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Post by maria on Jul 21, 2012 23:13:35 GMT -5
This place was strange, if not confusing to her. If it wasn't the building itself, it was the people. The grounds were vast of that she could deduce. And some in the manor seemed to take it upon themselves to do certain restoration projects. One of them she got snagged up into doing.
Tonight though, she found an apple and decided to take that out with a knife in hand, to the stables to at least offer apple pieces to the horses there. Hearing a whinny, apparently no one brought the horses into the stable for the night. Well, it was too late to do that so... they'd have to remain out at pasture. But she'll go to visit them anyways, make sure they had hay and water at least. Maybe one of them would come up and get some of the apple.
As she walked from the Manor, around through the gardens, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone when the horses whinnied. "Hello?" when she stopped where she was before hesitantly walking towards the cemetery. Granted it was off the beaten path to the stables and carriage house, but... she was curious to know who was outside at this hour. Dressed in those denims she was now fond of and a flouncy Edwardian blouse, her long brunette curls were tied back at the back of her neck and with victorian style lace up boots with a 1 and a half inch squash heel.
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Erik Castagne
When you sing, the angels weep...
When you sing, the angels weep...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Castagne on Jul 22, 2012 14:27:38 GMT -5
Just standing quietly near the mausoleum, enjoying the night air as he had not done in many years of living in his cellar, Erik became aware of a horse whinnying a short distance away. He looked in the direction of the pasture and saw someone there, a woman, her features indistinguishable in the dark, moonless night. Only her silhouette could be seen.
Erik saw the figure move toward the cemetery. He wondered if she could see him. He was well hidden in the darkness, but his flesh coloured mask might be seen. He should have worn his black one instead. But he hadn't planned on meeting anyone. In fact, he definitely did not want to meet anyone. He moved back, closer to the stone mausoleum.
The figure said, "Hello?" It was obviously a woman and she spoke English. Now what was he to do? She had seen him.This mansion had far too many people and they swarmed everywhere. Now he would have to show himself and say something.
"Hello," he said in English. He took a few steps toward the woman. The only person he really wished to see was his Christine. Although, chances are, after what had happened, she would not be happy to see him. He would forgive her for pulling off the mask, anything, just to see his beautiful Christine again.
Erik walked slowly toward the figure, his three-quarter length cape blowing out a bit behind him in the night breeze.
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maria
Full Member
That spitfire American!
Posts: 114
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Post by maria on Jul 22, 2012 22:55:26 GMT -5
Walking closer to the cemetery, which was rather creepy in her opinion. Slightly startled as a cloaked and masked man made himself known to her. After a wide-eyed gasp, had closed her eyes and rested a hand upon her chest and relaxed. But as she gazed back at him, this was a man she'd not seen before. Of course, from the sounds it, from what Lenoir said, there were lots of people there. Perhaps this was one of them she'd not had the pleasure, or displeasure, of meeting yet. Oddly, yet another man wearing a mask. This was apparently a common thing with men at this Manor.
Raising her brow as she stood there, "Evening. May I ask as to why you are out here?" By no means was it a crude or vicious tone, but one of curiosity. Placing her hands on her hips as another horse whinnied and ran off, though never saw it, only heard it's pounding hooves.
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Erik Castagne
When you sing, the angels weep...
When you sing, the angels weep...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Castagne on Jul 23, 2012 2:36:44 GMT -5
The woman seemed startled to see Erik, as most people were. He sighed. He did not feel like talking to anyone. He saw her gasp and close her eyes momentarily. He hated meeting anyone. It was always like this. He had even startled Christine when he had first shown his masked face to her. For that meeting, he had to take the risk or there would have been no meeting at all.
Erik approached the woman a bit closer. He could see what she looked like now. A very pretty young lady. He wasn't sure until the moon came out from behind the clouds for a moment, but her eyes appeared to each be a different colour. Unusual, but not disturbing.
Erik removed his hat politely, his opera cap showing under it and covering the top of his head. "Good evening, Mademoiselle. Simply out for a pleasant walk. And one might ask you the same question." The piece of white material attached to where his mask ended, just under the nose and covering his mouth, fluttered in and out strangely as he spoke.
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maria
Full Member
That spitfire American!
Posts: 114
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Post by maria on Jul 24, 2012 13:02:58 GMT -5
Standing there observing the man that was approaching her. As he neared her, she saw he wore a mask! Another one with a mask? Was this a common practice of men these days?!?
"I went to check upon the horses," motioning as she twisted around for a moment, to the stables and carriage house before turning back around to face him. Then showed him the apple, "Thought they might like a little treat." And gave a weak smile. His mask was so very strange. Different from Lenoir's and different from her own voice teacher, too. That little flap over where the mouth was was a bit disturbing and she tried her best to not let it all get to her or show.
"I can't blame you for wanting to enjoy the evening, Mister...?" leaving it open for to get his name.
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Erik Castagne
When you sing, the angels weep...
When you sing, the angels weep...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Castagne on Jul 25, 2012 19:53:29 GMT -5
Erik was somewhat surprised that the woman was speaking English. The few others he had spoken to were French. He wondered why this woman was here. He switched to speaking English, a language he spoke well, albeit heavily accented with French. "Very kind of you to think of the horses, Miss."
Erik felt uncomfortable and really had nothing to say to this woman, nor did he wish to start a conversation. However, neither did he wish to offend her. He had only met a few people in this mansion and the less they saw of Erik, the better.
Then he realized she wanted his name. "I am Erik," he said, placing his hand on his breast to indicate himself. "Erik is trying to understand why he is in this strange place. Is it in France?"
When the woman stayed, not looking frightened, Erik was not sure if he liked it or not. He would rather not talk to anyone, yet, perhaps she knew the way out of the mansion. It was so confusing. How could he not be able to find his way out of a house? He felt almost as if he himself were under a spell, held by unvisible bonds that tied him to the mansion.
Perhaps though this woman had the answer. "You know the path out of here, yes? Where Erik may make his way back to Paris?"
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maria
Full Member
That spitfire American!
Posts: 114
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Post by maria on Jul 27, 2012 13:19:36 GMT -5
She smiled, fondling the apple in her hand as she smiles, glancing down at it before looking back up at him. "It's only right that I do." Still smiling at him. Trying to smile really as she looked at him, occasionally furrowing a brow. His mask was strange. Not that Lenoir's was common either, but... this man's mask was a little bit different and almost disturbing in some sense.
Raising her brows as he mentioned his name. Another Erik? This was utterly confusing. How many masked men were there here? "I think we all are trying to figure out where we are and why we are here." Then shakes her head. "No, it's not France at all, sir. England, I do believe."
Raising brows slightly, yes he was a strange one indeed. Well, not that others were not equally as strange. Shaking her head," There's a village just a little over a mile away," motioning with her hand and head. "I just there with another gentleman. But..." still looking rather bewildered. "A way back to Paris?" Shakes her head again, "I'm afraid I don't."
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Erik Castagne
When you sing, the angels weep...
When you sing, the angels weep...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Castagne on Jul 28, 2012 15:25:03 GMT -5
Erik noticed her eying his mask. He knew he was different, oh, how he knew it! And the mask always seemed to have this effect on people. He had crafted it to look serene and not fearsome. However anyone who wore a mask was deemed "strange and different" by society in general, so he expected stares. And he had no idea how odd the gauzelike material ove rhis mouth, moving with his every word, looked. However Maria seemed congenial and only surprised by his odd appearance..
Maria had a bit of a surprised look as Erik gave his name. And then she said they were not in France..."England? Forgive Erik. He does not understand. How can this be England when Erik was in France but two days ago..." This was all so confusing. Perhaps he was under a spell.
Erik took a couple of fast steps closer to her as Maria sp0ke. "A village?" He pointed in the direction where she indicated. He decided to start the next day for the village. It must be that he was stranded here, how he couldn't explain, but if anyone could leave to venture to a village, how could they not go further?
Then oddly, Maria said she thought there was not a way back to Paris. Erik frowned under his mask. She must be mistaken!
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maria
Full Member
That spitfire American!
Posts: 114
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Post by maria on Jul 28, 2012 20:06:21 GMT -5
Stiffening a little as he approached her at a faster pace, but held her ground. Not taking her eyes off the masked man in the slightest. She'd had enough exposure it seemed, that the masked men here were odd but would not do harm at least. Still... she would keep a wary eye upon those she did not quite no yet... like this particular 'Erik'?
"I'm quite sure it's England. Everyone in the Village spoke fluent English with a strong British accent," she tried to re-enforce what she had seen earlier at least. Hopefully it will dispel any doubts.
Barely a rise from a brow when he continued on speaking in a third person which she found rather strange. Why ever would he do that? "I suppose, if you have a way to get to Paris, you can try. IF you have a way there." Smirks, curious to see if he can actually accomplish this.
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Erik Castagne
When you sing, the angels weep...
When you sing, the angels weep...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Castagne on Aug 3, 2012 21:36:29 GMT -5
"England?" said Erik. "Erik does not understand," he said softly, rubbing his chin, under the flimsy bottom of the mask. Gesturing rather dramatically, he said, "And how can one not find the way to Paris, even if this place is in England...He acted puzzled and distraught.
Erik stood, looking at Maria, his strange eyes behind the mask, glinting yellow in the moonlight. He gazed at her intently, as if trying to decide if he should say something. Then He launched into the longest stream of words to come from his mouth since he had been speaking to Christine.
"How is it possible to come here in the wink of an eye? " Then Erik thought of something. "You say there are many others here. Erik has only met a few...but, is there perhaps a beautiful girl here with curly brown hair and beautiful blue eyes? A small girl, she is the most beauutiful Erik has ever seen and her voice...her voice makes the angels cry with joy...Her name is Christine DaaƩ. Have you seen her?"
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maria
Full Member
That spitfire American!
Posts: 114
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Post by maria on Aug 5, 2012 16:43:53 GMT -5
Gazing back at him with a lack of a better word - bewilderment. Not only did he talk in the third person, which she'd not heard before, but he was rather... again, for another lack of a better word - contemplative. If not inquisitive.
"There apparently are a few women here who have that name. I don't know what they look like," She replied with barely any glance away from him. Not frightened, but she was a bit uneasy. More and more, this Manor confused her. She'd not met the other women yet. Barely a shrug, a slight shake of her head, "No one knows how we all got here. It's a question another man is trying to find the answer to." She simply put.
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Erik Castagne
When you sing, the angels weep...
When you sing, the angels weep...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Castagne on Aug 12, 2012 15:05:40 GMT -5
There apparently are a few women here who have that name. I don't know what they look like...said Maria, to Erik's utter bewilderment. How could it be...more than one Christine DaaƩ? "Impossible..." he muttered under his breath, in French. He looked down at his feet thoughtfully, considering this strange turn of events. Arriving here with no remembrance of it, being told there is no way to get home...what strange bizarre and hellish place had be been thrust into? Perhaps he was indeed dead and this was his punishment for some of the unsavoury things he had done in his life. Or as he had surmised before, perhaps he was under a spell. Maybe just a bad dream after being rejected by Christine...But still, Erik didn't know that....
He looked at Maria. She seemed sincere, but perhaps she was puzzled at his appearance. Erik was somewhat at a loss for words. He never had many, it was true. The only one he had poured out his heart to was Christine, and now...where was she? His darling Christine...perhaps she would not care for him anyway. She seemed afraid and he had not had a chance to show her that he was not a threat...of course she had spoiled it by pulling off his mask and having angered him greatly. It was the one thing he had asked of her and she couldn't even do that for him! With the thought of that, Erik bristled visibly. He clenched his hands and closed his eyes momentarily, taking in a deep breath. Then he opened his eyes again and smiled under the mask.
"Erik is sorry to have disturbed you. Please tell him why you are in this graveyard at night...other than to feed the horses..."
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maria
Full Member
That spitfire American!
Posts: 114
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Post by maria on Aug 12, 2012 19:04:40 GMT -5
Watching this strangely masked man with an ever changing face from furrowed brows and not, blinking a few times, all in bewilderment with tilts of her head, lips barely moved. Trying to understand his body language. He was far more mysterious than the other masked men she had met. More and more, they were confusing her.
Raising her brows slightly, "just to feed and check upon the horses," she replied. Then made a bold move. "Would you like to join me?" Bold. Very bold. But... what further could she do? Leave him here alone at night? Simply not a friendly thing to do.
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Erik Castagne
When you sing, the angels weep...
When you sing, the angels weep...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Castagne on Aug 15, 2012 18:02:12 GMT -5
Maria's body language changed as her thoughts and emotions changed. Erik didn not think he frightened her, which was good, but clearly she was puzzled. Erik couldn't do anything to relieve her puzzlement. There wasn't anything he could do to make himself look different, other than remove his mask and that surely would not have a quieting effect on anyone.
Maria told Erik that she was only here to feed and take care of the horses. Then she invited him to come with her. He hesitated at first, but she seemed a good sort, and sincere. He nodded and followed her into the stable. Erik liked horses and other animals. He cared very much for Cesar the horse he had "kidnapped" from the Paris Opera House to let Christine ride upon for her journey down into the cellars. He had no pets of his own and often wondered how it would be to have one. He had met with stray dogs and cats on his travels and often fed them. They cared not what he looked like...
Entering the stable, Erik touched one of the horses gently and it gave him a soft whinney. Why couldn't people be as accepting?
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