Who: Christine Daae and Lydia Martin What: Christine finds her roommate has been murdered and Lydia finds dead bodies When: 17 January 2015, night Where: Christine and Jammes' apartment Warnings: HIGH - Blood. Dead body. Status: Thread | Complete
Christine still wasn't sure what to make of her new set of Dreams. It made perfect sense that she'd start singing again (admittedly when she was apparently drunk as the fear had returned) that she would get a new set of Dreams. Different, but the same. So far, she was brunette, she and Meg were actually friends and it seemed the Phantom, Erik, was much quicker to anger while Raoul was more confident with himself, more sure. Whatever was going to happen would continue to do so and she at least knew the trajectory it would take. It was a trajectory she would have preferred not having to go through again, but there was little she could do on that front but watch the horror story take place all over again.
The good news though was that it had yet to interfere with her singing. She'd been practicing ever since she had gotten her music. She still remembered her old warm ups, knew the notes on a piano so she could play her part as well as listen. She would meet with the director of the chorus and orchestra weekly to go over her pieces and then she would practice on her own. There was the worry, of course, though so far she hadn't felt herself slipping as she had when she was younger. The stress of the Dreams made it difficult, but she pushed through them. She had to. It had almost become something she needed to prove to herself as much as not wishing to let people down. Oh, Armand and Lydia had said it was fine to back out if she felt uncomfortable and she would if absolutely necessary, but Christine also didn't want to let people down. Or herself. Or the part of her that still felt her father would be disappointed if she didn't take this chance, if she continued to let fear control her.
Still. It had been going well for the past few weeks. Classes had started and those were going well also. Because it was Saturday, Christine had gone from work, to practice and then had locked herself in a music room for a couple of hours to work on the parts that had challenged her that day. By the time she had finished, the blonde was feeling confident that the following week's practice would go much better. Calling Jammes to see what she wanted for dinner, Christine blinked as she got no answer but shrugged it off. Jammes was either out or in the shower so she'd just pick something up that would hold for a few hours. Despite the current state of Orange County with the crime rates rising, Christine wasn't terribly worried. Or she was already hyper vigilant thanks to the first round of Dreams and what had happened there. Either way.
Arriving at the apartment with her bag of food, Christine paused, eyes narrowed. The door was unlocked. Odd.... There was also a sort of..heaviness in the air? It was hard to describe, just something felt off.
"Jammes? Are you home?"
Christine lived a horror story in her Dreams, there was no need to watch horror movies. Even though she was probably breaking every horror movie trope by announcing her presence. But as she didn't watch those movies she was personally unaware of that fact. Besides, there was the part of Christine that was bolder than even she gave herself credit for. This was just a stupid idea. Bag placed on the stand beside the door, Christine stepped into the hall and swallowed hard. If Jammes was playing a prank on her... But no. Jammes may be more out going than Christine, but she knew that startling her and pranks were just a bad idea. No, Jammes wouldn't do that, especially with everything going on at the moment.
She should have called someone. Or gotten a neighbor to help. Or anything other than what she had actually done. First step into the kitchen and there didn't seem to be anything amiss, but then she saw it. The body on the ground. The blood and disheveled appearance of Jammes.
"JAMMES!"
Rushing over, she tried to stop the bleeding.
"No no no, come on, wake up please!"
Yes. Christine was panicking but she couldn't just not do something. Not that breathing was happening either. Gasping for breath, Christine could feel herself slipping away. The room around her kept altering between hot and cold. Images of things she and Jammes had done since becoming roommates. Deep down she knew that Jammes was dead. Someone had killed her in a fit of rage and Christine was now covered in her blood but she was do desperate to try and save her. She didn't even realize that she had left the door open or that someone had entered the apartment. She was just focused on trying to revive an already dead body.