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Tweak says, "MOM! he poked me!!"

Bellum Anon (bellum_anon) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-04-27 23:02:00

Entry tags:

plot: fables

Who: Everyone!
What: Transformation Plot Post
Where: All over.
When: Moonrise on the 28th.
Warnings: All kinds, I expect.

The moon slipped up past the horizon full, round, and white. Its effects had been predicted, though perhaps not fully believed by the residents of the building.

Moonlight streamed through the windows of the building, washing the city in pale light. For the tenants of Bellum Letale, where ever they were, scattered in the night, it had a tangible effect.

Change rippled through the building, much as it had over a month before. But this was not simply a twitch in the fabric of things, gone in the blink of an eye. It was a rolling change, gradual as the moonrise, tangible, and, in some cases, likely terrifying in its inexorability. People became what they were, what they ought to have been, and what they weren't.

The moon was up, and trouble was about to run high in Bellum.

[Notes: Remember that the events of last month still apply-I.E, those who became vampires will be vampires when they take on their fable form, the Frog Prince will still be human after being turned back last plot, etc. Whether the fables are aware a month has passed since they were last around is up to the players. This log posted with the anon account so that the mods do not wake up tomorrow with 100 notifications in their gmail. Go forth and plot!]

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Re: 3rd floor (just before the moon rises)

lemortvivant
2010-04-30 06:58 am UTC (link)

Erik heard her explanation, but it didn't make any sense. She lived in this unfamiliar place? She had heard him here, but instead of appearing to her he had... simply let her leave? It simply couldn't be true. He would remember this place, and he would most certainly remember her being here with him. The thought that the voice might have been someone else, an impostor, briefly entered his mind; but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. That was impossible - Christine knew her Angel of Music. She would never have fallen for a trick, which meant he simply couldn't remember for some reason. What had happened to him?

"An invisible man?" He didn't break his stride, but he did glance back. "A trick, then; an illusion." The idea that he was truly invisible was immediately dismissed - he knew all sorts of illusions, and anyone with skill could do them.

He had to admit that he was surprised when she finally seemed willing to take his hand, and after a moment's hesitation he let his fingers relax and clasp hers tightly. Even that faint gesture of contact calmed him slightly, even though he still didn't like the strangeness of this place. "Patience, Christine. We are almost there." At some point he thought they passed a body of water, but it wasn't the lake - it seemed more like a contained thing, surrounded by cement and stone, which confused him. Yet still he went forward, deeper down until he finally stopped.

Something about this place felt right, but at the same time he knew it wasn't his underground. Where was his house? And the torture chamber, there was no room for it here. Erik turned to her, barely able to make out her face in the dark. "This is not the Opera house." It was spoken flatly, a statement rather than a question, but it was clear just how much he hated the words from the way he practically spit them out. "Is this a trick, Christine? Orchestrated by you and your Vicomte?" His hand tightened around hers, bordering on painful. It was irrational to say the least, but Erik was hardly a rational person. His Opera house, the house underground - they were his, and now they'd been taken from him. She'd said something about this happening before, which had to mean she knew more than she was telling.

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Re: 3rd floor (just before the moon rises)

still_lotte
2010-04-30 01:32 pm UTC (link)

Christine watched him, biting her lip as she waited for his reaction. There was a curious sensation of not being paranoid about being called crazy. She never felt that way about him. She supposed it was because he was the source of most of the insanity in her life. But she wanted him to understand, because if this was happening to both of them, he should be able to fix it. There was no doubt of his genius after all.

Yet at the mention of it being an illusion she frowned. “It would make sense,” she admitted. But there was a slight twinge that it wasn’t so. Maybe she had listened to too many stories when she was little, but she was almost certain that it had been magic. Christine had been wrong about that before though – the hand she was holding was proof of it. She tried to shake the feeling off, going on.“It was very well done – I thought he knew you…I don’t think he did. He was puzzling with his answers.”

She kept silent otherwise, trying to take in her surroundings in the darkness. As they passed the water, there was another sense of familiarity – the stairs in the dark hadn’t been as familiar as this was. Where she’d seen it and with who escaped her though. She knew there had been someone else, not Raoul and not Meg…the name and the memory wouldn’t place itself and she said nothing, though she continued to look back as they walked deeper into the catacombs.

Once they stopped, Christine took a look around. It was too dark to make out, but it didn’t change the feeling of unfamiliarity. Her skin prickled as she began to feel frightened again – the brief comfort his hand had offered vanished as his grip tightened. She winced, a sound escaping her; she knew there was no point in hiding it down here. No one was here aside from him and they wouldn’t be able to hear her.

“I didn’t – he didn’t do this.” Her eyes sought out his – always the first thing to be seen in the dark. With his mask though, it was the only thing she could make out. Her tone turned pleading, “I don’t understand it either, Erik. Please, believe me. He’s-” She broke off, eyes looking away as something nudged the back of her mind. There was a moment of processing, piecing together how she couldn’t find him before and that he would have come and seen her before she was to sing…

Christine looked up and said, “He’s not here.” There were other memories that didn’t make sense – for a moment, she couldn’t even conjure a face to match his name. Her heart pounded. “He’s not coming, Erik. He’s not a part of this. You weren’t here before.” But where else could he have been? And where was Raoul? Her head hurt and she shut her eyes, trying to calm herself.

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Re: 3rd floor (just before the moon rises)

lemortvivant
2010-05-01 05:08 am UTC (link)

Erik had known others throughout his life who were skilled in the art of illusion, but none that would be here, not where Christine was. Not in the Opera house, much less - but then again, this was somewhere unfamiliar and foreign. This was not the same underground that he knew so well, but even so he felt no fear. He could, however, hear the fear in Christine's voice. He doubted that she would have been able to lie so convincingly if this was a trap, considering that it was so dark and it would have been easy for him to slip away with her before Raoul or anyone else could make a proper move.

He met her eyes for a moment before relaxing his grip, frustrated with the situation and his own inability to keep from frightening her constantly. Still, she wasn't making any sense. Raoul was here, he had to be here; where else would he be? And how could he, Erik, not have been here? Was Christine alone, wandering the halls of this strange place inhabited by... who?

"I believe you." He scowled, turning away in an attempt to re-orient himself. "Someone has done this, and I will find out who. A fool, only a fool would dare to even attempt this." He didn't quite know what 'this' was, not yet, but whoever was responsible would pay dearly for it. Erik turned back to her, most of the anger gone from his eyes - at least, it was no longer directed at her now. "Raoul may not be here, but I am. This may not be my underground, but it still feels... somewhat familiar. We can stay here - I will not allow you to wander here if it is not the Opera house."

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Re: 3rd floor (just before the moon rises)

still_lotte
2010-05-01 05:37 am UTC (link)

A sigh of relief escaped her once his grip loosened. Her whole body seemed to relax, though her hand still remained in his. It was still too dark to see and even if he thought the area was familiar, she still didn’t think so. She’d have preferred his house on the lake to this with the Louis-Philippe room that she could escape to safely.

Raoul, for how much she loved him and trusted, wouldn’t be able to fix something like this. Especially if he wasn’t here – Christine’s stomach clenched. He didn’t know where she was either. Relying on Erik like this made her slightly uneasy, even if she knew he was the only one that could fix this.

“Upstairs it’s familiar,” she protested. “The rooms up there were mine. It wasn’t a dressing room, Erik. I could be safe there.” The only danger she’d felt was him coming before – if she could reason, then maybe she could be in the light again. “Is there even anything here to make it so that we could stay? Food, water, a place to rest…?” She trailed off, eyes looking to his again.

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Re: 3rd floor (just before the moon rises)

lemortvivant
2010-05-01 07:03 pm UTC (link)

Erik would have been perfectly content with finding himself a corner and taking the time to sort out whatever was happening, but he'd forgotten that Christine was accustomed to a different sort of living, and he couldn't expect her to simply stand there in the darkness. She was young and still fragile, even though there were times when he forgot it.

"How could they be yours?" He shook his head, resolute in his decision. Until, that is, she managed to reach his reasonable side. If his house was not here, then that meant that everything that could have allowed her to remain here comfortably was gone.

But he didn't want to let her leave for fear that she would not return, so instead he focused on that distant sense of familiarity. There had to have been a reason it was there, and if he could remember anything about this place, perhaps from a time when he had been here before...

"Wait." His eyes snapped open and he pulled her forward, spurred by a sudden memory that didn't quite feel as though it belonged to him. Despite the darkness he wove himself in and out of tunnels, not bothering to explain to Christine where he was going until he got there. He stopped abruptly, a small triumphant smile behind his mask. He knew this room, because he'd been here before - he'd used it, although he didn't remember when or why. There was a chair, matches, and a few covered candles apparently used for illumination. No food, but there was water, although he doubted that it would be very refreshing. Still, he decided, it was enough to keep her content until he came up with come sort of plan.

"You can rest here, Christine." His eyes fell on a violin case in the corner, which brought forth another odd sense of familiarity. Perhaps he might even play for her.

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Re: 3rd floor (just before the moon rises)

still_lotte
2010-05-01 07:20 pm UTC (link)

There was a small shrug at his question, barely seen in the darkness. Christine had no good answer for that, other than familiarity and feeling safe within those walls. It had been her mirror she’d covered and her closet she’d hid in. Even if it wasn’t in the Opera precisely or in Mamma Valerius’ house, it had seemed as natural as being elsewhere. “It just was.”

Though she didn’t particularly want to go deeper into the catacombs, she followed without fighting. Her eyes were becoming more used to the darkness and if she squinted, she could make out his shoulder in the darkness. She kept her eyes on him, hand still clutching his until he stopped in the little room. At the sight she had to force a neutral expression on her face. She hadn’t wanted to be down here and had thought she’d made sense…and instead it only made her trapped again.

She looked over everything once more, before turning to him. “Thank you,” Christine managed – her gratitude was more out of habit, than truth. She bit her lip, before tentatively pulling her hand from his.

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Re: 3rd floor (just before the moon rises)

lemortvivant
2010-05-01 10:19 pm UTC (link)

Erik seemed satisfied with himself, as though he'd found a temporary solution to their problem. The fact that she had wanted to leave didn't occur to him, because if he let himself think about that then he'd just get frustrated all over again. She wasn't fighting or pleading, which he decided meant she wanted to be here.

He hesitated before releasing her hand, expecting her to sit on the chair or do whatever it was that she wanted to. After pacing around the room a bit, he found that he didn't like the silence. Perhaps music might even soothe her, allow her to relax slightly.

He didn't need to sit, snapping the case open and easing the violin out with obvious care. Watching Christine carefully, he began to play, slowly at first, his movements becoming smoother and more fluid the more time passed.

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Re: 3rd floor (just before the moon rises)

still_lotte
2010-05-01 10:35 pm UTC (link)

There was another sigh of relief when she had her hand back. Yes, she'd moved to take his hand afterwards, but there was something reassuring about having some freedom. After all this time, Christine had learned to take advantage of the bit given.

She didn't head to the chair, lighting one of the candles at first. There was a glance towards him, almost asking if it was alright, before she moved to the chair. Her hand rested on her hand, her elbow in her lap as she tried to calm down and think. She tried not to follow his movement back and forth, instead letting her eyes fall to the ground. It caused his pulling the violin out to be a bit of a surprise, though a ghost of a smile crossed her face.

No one could play like he did, something she could never forget. Watching him play could have been enough to entrance her - especially as he was wearing his mask. As she felt her body relax, she couldn't help but feel gratitude over the piece chosen though and the opportunity. Before he'd reached the end however, her exhaustion caught up to her and she fell asleep, head still propped on her hand.

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Re: 3rd floor (just before the moon rises)

lemortvivant
2010-05-01 11:54 pm UTC (link)

Erik tended to lose track of what went on around him whenever he was composing, and the same applied when he began to play a piece, whether it be on the violin or the piano. Christine may have recoiled at his touch, she may have been unable to look upon his face when he didn't have his mask; but despite all that he knew his music was different. It was what had drawn her to him as the Angel of Music, what had kept her with him... until she learned that he was just Erik, not an angel at all.

He didn't notice that she'd fallen asleep until he reached the end, and any bit of harshness remaining in his gaze disappeared entirely when he looked upon her sleeping form. "Christine," he sighed softly, moving quietly to stand over her.

She couldn't be afraid of him when she was asleep - he could even pretend that they were like any other couple when she was like this, instead of knowing what he was beneath the mask. Le mort vivant, the living dead. He sighed again, letting a gloved hand ghost over her hair before turning away, beginning to play again in an attempt to occupy himself until she awoke.

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