InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Oh noes!"

lotte karsten {christine daaé} (still_lotte) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-03-22 12:44:00

Entry tags:

christine daaé, phantom of the opera

Who: Lotte and Bran
What: A first encounter.
Where: 1206-ish
When: Morning after the Fable plot
Warnings: A little creepiness? Nothing, really.

Tea was the usual cure to her problems. A warm cup in her hands calmed her, by making her focus on the warmth and the warmth alone. But the morning after the memories, Lotte knew tea wasn’t an option. She didn’t think to take the mixture from Ella or even to dig through her cabinets for a spare bag.

Instead she stared at a box of tapes, her tape recorder moved to the floor in the living room while her copy of The Phantom of the Opera remained abandoned next to her.

Several tapes had been taken out and put back in, as she inwardly debated their usefulness. Memories which shouldn’t have made sense said that they were useful – music was a good thing, she didn’t need to run from it as she ‘now’ did. (Right?) Lotte frowned, mind moving towards how she’d woken up that morning.

This time, she only shivered slightly. There was no questioning this time – the book and what she remembered from yesterday was enough. Lotte picked up the book, flipping through it once more before falling on the last paragraphs. The fact that she didn’t agree with the ending – that his skeleton should be put on display…Lotte shuddered.

Of course if it was real – and she was Christine once or even yesterday…then it was ridiculous that she was too scare to even sing. There was no Phantom, no Erik, nothing except for James. (Meg? Her head hurt.) And it wasn’t like sixth grade could happen again…

Setting her face, Lotte swallowed before digging a tape in the back. The sixth grade talent show had been a disaster, between her freezing up on stage and the voices coming back. There was no reason to be scared now though, right? Lotte put the tape in the player, looking over her shoulder despite herself. The room was quiet until the instrumental came on.

Her eyes shut as she waited for the cue. The tape had been made for that performance, simply as an accompaniment. There was a CD somewhere too, but she’d never understood that craze, sticking with the tapes her father had relied on.

“If today were the day you had to stop dancing…how would you feel?”

Lotte swallowed, then began to sing quietly. She started out shakily, as she always did. Her voice wasn’t used to the movement, though it definitely knew the right techniques. She paused to breathe, as the music got ahead of her. No voices and no panic attacks.

“Look my eyes are dry,” Lotte sang, more confidently. Little lies were alright, so long as she could sing and not sound like a toad. The music and her worked together – she knew the tape, knew the lyrics, and first-hand knew the meaning behind the words.

The only thing that messed her up was the end of the soloist’s part where a belt was required. Eyes squeezed shut, Lotte forced out the, “Won’t forget! Can’t regret what I did for love-” The half-note’s misstep was enough to make her fall silent, biting her lip as the music went on.

There was just a certain irony in the fact that if she was once, an operatic soprano, she couldn’t even manage a mezzo’s pop ballad now. Lotte shut off the tape player, pushing her box to the side of the room. Perhaps the tea would have been a better choice in the long run.

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lemortvivant
2010-03-22 08:15 pm UTC (link)

Bran's initial opinion of the building's residents was that they were like all the others he'd encountered, tiresome and selfish creatures barely able to hold his attention for more than a second. Still, that restless feeling which had driven him all over the world had led him here, which meant he was staying for the time being.

He was contemplating this as he crept up the stairwell that morning to the twelfth floor - having no clear intention in mind other than a need to do something other than sit still - when he heard a voice. The instrumentals that proceeded it hadn't caught his attention, as he was accustomed to hearing melodies nearly all the time, and they varied from day to day. This was the first time they'd ever been accompanied by words, however; and it made him pause. No, this wasn't coming from within his mind... there was someone actually singing, a female, and she was close. It began softly, almost hesitant, but steadily grew louder as the singer's confidence increased. He didn't even have to be in the same room to be able to identify that - lack of confidence could destroy even the loveliest of voices.

It wasn't by any means the best voice he'd heard, as there was a certain lack of discipline audible, but something about it made him stop and listen. Perhaps it was that brief hint of emotion that so few seemed to possess, that element that transformed good into great and great into something beyond words. Bran moved closer to the source, only stopping when he was mere inches away from the apartment he was fairly certain it came from. He found himself unconsciously holding his breath as her voice rose-- and then faltered when it should have excelled, ending in silence as the music went on unheeded without her. Instead of attempting it again, the music stopped entirely, leaving him in a state of half-frustration without truly knowing why. His initial impression was that there was a complete and utter lack of musical appreciation in this building, never mind actual talent; but whoever this female was, she had something. He listened for a few minutes longer before realizing that she'd given up - for now, at least. 1206 was her apartment number, which meant she lived right above him - a coincidence, perhaps, or maybe something more.

He turned to leave but found that he couldn't - not yet. What would the harm be if he stayed a little longer, after all? The hallway was silent, and if anyone did appear he could either make a quick getaway or introduce himself as a new neighbor - luckily he was wearing his 'mask', which meant that he would appear almost completely normal. Bran eyed the door for a moment before trying the next apartment - 1207 - which was, luckily enough, unlocked and empty. He slipped inside without a sound, pressing his ear against the wall. Ventriloquism was a skill he'd learned in the circus, and although he was still perfecting it, now was the perfect time to see just how well it could work - and if it did, would it work from the floor below as well?

With any luck his voice would sound as though it was coming from somewhere within her apartment, rather than right next door. "Why do you give up so quickly?"

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still_lotte
2010-03-22 08:35 pm UTC (link)

Lotte had stood, moving towards the kitchen for that tea when the voice came. Somehow, after yesterday and the failed singing, she wasn't surprised. Scared and disturbed, but not surprised. She reached for the nearest wall and closed her eyes. Back against it, she began to mutter.

"It's not real, just my imagination going wild-" Except it wasn't, right? If Ella was right and the voices had matched up to certain characters she had known in the book, then it wasn't. A memory, then? Lotte shivered, hands moving over her ears even though it'd be useless. Hearing that voice or any of the others never had anything to do with her ears. Even she knew that.

She swallowed, waiting to see if it was enough to get it - him - the voice to be quiet.