#and piangi well uh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milady-pink · 8 months

Text

Waitress AU

Warnings: Food/baking, domestic abuse, unplanned pregnancy, cheating

Summary: Working at a dead end job, waitress Christine soon finds herself with a new problem: an unplanned pregnancy. Life is all about trying to find the sweet spots and luckily this pie genius has a new (and pretty adorkably sexy) OBGYN, who isn’t too happy at home either.

TL;DR Quirky cute and sexy Erik as a doctor, lab coat and all.

Word Count: 1058 || Graphics: @firefly-graphics

"The Negative "

Recipe Book

AO3

“What the hell are y’all doin’?”

“This is a female emergency, Piangi! Your testosterone filled mind wouldn’t comprehend.” Replied Meg, said with not a drop of hostility.

Huffing out a frustrated breath from the antics of his waitstaff. Crossing his hairy arms he calls into the women’s bathroom, “There’s no one on the floor! Am I gonna have to put on a waitress uniform myself?”

Poking her red-beehive out, Carlotta responds, “The blue would do numbers for your figure”, before closing the door once again.

Brows furrowed in anger, Piangi threatens the girls. “Need I remind you that I can fire your ass—”

“Sorry Piangi we can’t hear you—water’s running”, Carlotta cuts him off.

At the end of his wit, the chef tries one last time to regain control of the situation. “Get out here! I am only gonna say it once….This is the last time I’ll say it!” Walking away, defeated, he lets out an aggravated, “dammit”.

Back behind his grill, he cocks the antics of his female workers as hysteria.

Now that the three light-blue dressed women were alone, Carlotta once again presented the pregnancy test to Christine, with Meg right there filling up a disposable cup with sink water.

“I gotta get back to my table” she trains to reason, wanting to be in any other musty, dimly-lit bathroom than this one.

Not having any of it, Carlotta crosses her arms and snarks, “Chrissy, it’s time.”

“You’ve been nauseous every mornin’ this week,and its only Wednesday.” Pipes in Meg, offering her the water.

Realizing she won’t be getting out anytime soon, Christine shared,”I don’t wanna know”, in a mumble.

“You’ve waited too long as it is.” Pushed Carlotta.

“It might just be a fluke! Don’tcha wanna know?” Asked Meg.

After some time of considering things, Christine took the test reluctantly, and went into one of the stalls shutting the door behind her. She heard Meg say in concern, “I hope you drank enough” through the metal door.

“Ya ever done one of these before?” Questioned Carlotta from the sinks.

“No”

The redhead points her nail file at Meg. “Read the instructions to her”, she told the blonde.

Squinting her eyes to read the fine printing on the pink and blue box, Meg started. “Se puede saber la duración—”

Carlotta quickly cut her off. “English, Meg, English!”

“Oh”, she exclaimed, “do not insert the test stick into your vagina!” She replied, happy to be of service.

“Thanks”, snarked the older woman, earning her a gleeful smile in return. She turns her attention to the waitress in the stall, “How did this happen anyway?”

“Yeah”, joined Meg, “I thought you didn’t sleep with your husband much nowadays?”

“Uh—well, it was after that girl’s night, few weeks ago, and I was wearing that stupid red dress.” Christine groaned, frustrated from her past behavior. Hindsight is 20/20.

“Oh! I love that red dress—the way it shines in the light! Reminds me of those figure skatin’ outfits they wear on TV!” Trailed off Meg, easily distracted by the smallest details.

Carlotta, not one to forget the catastrophe at hand, grabs Meg by the shoulders and shakes her. “Focus Megan!”

“Anyway”, continued Christine, used to her friends’ antics, “I came home and he was sittin’ on the couch with two beers. He got me drunk and, next thing led to another….Now I’m sittin’ on the toilet tryin’ to accurately pee on a piece of plastic.”

Trying to be helpful, the blonde questions aloud, “Maybe his ‘boys’ don’t swim as well as they used to, ya know?”

“Or maybe my life is ruined because of one stupid mistake.” Christine asks as she opens the door to her stall, leaving its confines; pregnancy test in hand.

“Or, you’re perfectly fine and just gotta head cold! One night is hardly enough time for… that.” She emphasized by staring at Christine’s stomach.

Rolling her eyes, she hands the stick back over to Carlotta. “Now what?”

“Now, we wait.” Making her point clear by starting the timer on her watch for three minutes. All three girls watch Carlotta place the test on the sink, window side down.

“Gah, my mind is racing! I feel like I can’t breathe, I’m panicking real bad!” Christine discloses to her two closest friends.

“Everything will be okay, what’s the worst that could happen?” Meg asked the other two.

Carlotta decided to answer her while Christine paced back-and-forth in the small restroom. “Well, Chrissy could get stuck with a parasite that she won’t be able to get rid of until the thing’s eighteen years old!” As she spoke her voice steadily rose until almost screaming at the last word.

“Oh”

“Yeah”

Fed up with how her friends were speaking as if she wasn’t in the same room, and whose life was really at stake, she decided to break their bickering. “Enough! The only way I’m gonna survive this won’t be with you two going on and on.” By now she had stopped pacing, choosing instead to stand in one place with her hands on her cheeks, eyes closed and head pointed upwards. “Dear God, send me a sign that these three minutes in the women’s restroom at the diner with these two crazies,” this earned her offended looks from her colleagues, “be the last few minutes of peace in my life.”

The other girls, who had watched their friend say a desperate prayer, each mumbled a quiet, “amen”.

Taking a deep breath, Christine crossed her arms over her stomach and looks to Carlotta. “How much longer?”

As the redhead opened her mouth to speak, her watch’s timer went off giving Christine her answer. All three restroom occupants looked towards the test sitting on the sink ledge, then to the woman of the hour who had to live with whatever results it gave.

Slowly walking over to the sink, getting a pat on the arm from Meg as she went, Christine looked down at the test, then back up at the mirror in front of her. Picking up the test, window side still down, she closes her eyes and flips the stick over. With a final breath of air, she opens her eyes and looks at the test’s answers. Seeing the result, she makes eye contact with herself through the mirror and lets out a sigh.

“Shit.”

#phantom of the opera #christine daae #raoul de chagny #erik destler #musical fanfic #sara bareilles #waitress #pies

0 notes

wheel-of-fish · 4 years

Text

By the Numbers: Ben Crawford, Ali Ewoldt, Jay Armstrong Johnson

By the Numbers: The Ben Crawford/Ali Ewoldt/Jay Armstrong Johnson Stream, August 22, 2020

[long-awaited submission from Aldebaran; I’m putting it behind a cut]

Oh my gosh, an epic stream deserves an epically long and epically late By the Numbers! Come with me back in time, all the way back to two weeks ago, which in pandemic days is a month and a half. Before we were treated to Giant Ivan and Tiny Tamara in Moscow, there was The Swagger, The Disney Princess and The Bot…

This was a fantastically fun boot to watch as part of a group of enthusiastic Saturday Streamers! Plusses included an earlier-in-his-run Ben “The Swagger” Crawford as the Phantom, with the spotlight on his booming baritone voice, and Ali “Paris’s Sweetheart” Ewoldt as an enchanting Christine. And—Jay Armstrong Johnson (we’re pretty sure) as Raoul. Or some semblance of Raoul. Something was up with Raoul in this performance and the consensus was there may have been robotics involved. I won’t say more here; the streamers have it covered below and a fantastic set of memes by Onthevirg/faunaproductions caught tons more great moments. Very very nice filming job by a master who clearly knew the show well and anticipated major moments and character moves in a smooth manner. Not a bot though. As far as we know. And featuring an AIAOY– let’s just say that has to be seen to be believed.

Some stats on the stats: An asterisk * indicates a recurring category. All numbers are accurate except where they are not. I was tempted last week to resort to making crap up for this recap, but resisted the temptation. I will occasionally add in a missing letter or two. If a person’s train of thought is split up, I will ignore intervening commentary and put that thought back on track. Occasionally, by design or by mischance, a comment or two will be moved slightly out of original chronological order. Or wildly out of chronological order to cater to a theme. Or a whim. Only when it’s funny. There is also no clean way to say the word “organ” which pops up a lot in this stream. (See what I mean? It can’t be done.)

*Suggested names for this boot: The Animatronic Boot, The Better Than Cooper Boot, The It’s Alive! Boot, Robot Roll Call Boot (Okay, nobody suggested these. It was me. I suggested these)

*Statistician’s Favorite Boot Name: mechanical hands down, The RaoulBot Boot

*Wow, we like to talk about Phantoms: It has become clear to me that we like to talk about everybody. And everything. Phantoms, Christines, Raouls, Mandalorians. Here are most of the people mentioned in the stream. There is no context. Just like a real stream!!!

John Riddle (9), Gina Beck (8), Ramin (6), Rob Houchen (2), Ethan (1), Eiji (1), Uwe (3), Jordan Craig (2), Sierra (1), Steve Barton (3), David Shannon (2), Norm (14), Earl (1), Cooper (2), Darua (4), Thiago (11), Rachel Barrell (1), Meghan Picerno (2), Cherik (19), Pedro Pascal (1), B*rbour (7), Eva Tavares (4), Ted Keegan (5), Maree Johnson (2), Quentin Oliver Lee (1), Jeremy Hays (1), Ben Jacoby (3), Andrew Keenan Bolger (1), Greg Mills (1), Michael Maliakel (1), KKA (8), Jordan Donica (1), Kyle Barisch (8), Andrew Ragone (3), Paul Stanley/Stankey (3), Hannah Gadsby (2)

Residual Stolle Thirst: Residual Stolle Thirst from the stream a week prior to this one, plus Mr. Stolle’s appearance as Passarino AND the Conductor in this boot resulted in >32 mentions. There may or may not have been comparisons between his Raoul and this boot’s Raoul. I certainly wouldn’t put it past us.

Epithets for Ben Crawford: Ubiquitous mentions of Crawdaddy and The Swagger. More personalized and clearly personal epithets: Big Ben—ktarinajones, BENBENBENBEN—whereisthepersian, OH HELLO VOICE—butdreamsofbeauty, my horny bastard and I love him—ktarinajones

Epithets: reader’s choice as to which Phantom(s) the following apply to (no one in this stream): Fuckface McGee–therosenpants Sir Scruffsalot—snows Voldemort—Benny-Lynne Traschcan–therosentpants

Antici_____pation:

I can’t wait for jay I honestly thought they’d slapped a human face on a robot and called it a day—angedelamusique

Let’s all just have fun trying to spy hints of actual emotion in Jay’s Raoul—GlassPrism

Oh there will be memes. Ben Crawford is a walking meme and there will be a robot on stage—ktarinajones

Oh boy, here we go—GlassPrism

We love a trainwreck:

I love this stream crowd because you all show up for trainwrecks just as enthusiastically as you do for good actors—wheel-of–fish

We love a trainwreck!—butdreamsofbeauty

we’re ready—angelofthelake

trainwrecks are v satisfying—christinegrrl

We’re here with roses, we’re here with rotten fruit, we’re versatile! A good tirefire is a marshmallow roast–snows

Debut of RaoulBot: Before the show even began, JAJ’s Raoul had a name:

RaoulBot—ktarinajones at 20:01:33 (historic occasions get timestamps!)

wait they can’t moisten the raoul if he’s a robot, can they?—butdreamsofbeauty

they can oil him—ktarinajones

oil the raoul, perfect—butdreamsofbeauty

He has a silicone exterior—Benny-Lynne

wd-40—wheel-of-fish

How do we know he is waterproof? Let’s see if he sparks when he hits the Raoul Hole—Aldebaran

Earliest Meme Generation: Our intrepid memester Virg had material for a meme within 8 minutes 27 seconds of the start of the stream.

Love is in the Air: There was a lot of love in this stream

Ali Love: >32

Laird Love: 28

Carlotta Love: 20

Filmer Love: 5

Extreme John Riddle love: 2

when there’s video of John Riddle the filmer can have a kidney if they want—ktarinajones, seconded by christinegrrl

And then there was Jay:

Oh he did a head nod. Well done.—Bozzleboz

At least Jay doesn’t shoot a policeman—PureAnon

Several head turns in succession there. Getting ambitious.–Bozzleboz

Illumination!: Auction Raoul set the tone for the evening to come, and the chandelier seized the moment to shine.

OMG, his jaw moves just like a real person….or a nutcracker—Aldebaran

His batteries are running down. Maybe they will wire him for the new electricity.—Aldebaran

Robot Raoul is using all the electricity—Aldebaran

That chandelier isn’t rising—Ladyrock18

It’s not rising because they have to unhook the cables that power Raoulbot—DocTy

The chandelier shows more emotions than Jay as Raoul—Maze-zen

Erik made a Raouldoll to add to his collection?—Benny-Lynne

The chandelier shows the full range of human emotions. That is why it was cast.—haunted-hideaway

The chandelier is more expressive than this Raoul—Carole

The chandelier can actually sing in morse code—DocTy

Meanwhile backstage Raoulbot is recharging in his alcove—Aldebaran

If you listen closely you can hear diesel generators in the background recharging the batteries—DocTy

C’mon guys, he’s solar powered—ktarinajones

is that why he stops working in the dark during AIAOY–christinegrrl

Statistician Aldebaran wonders if she will be able to handle viewing Cherik:

Oh I finally finished the 90’s miniseries! I have thoughts!—Abberina

Abberina do you have thoughts other than “I hurt, I am in pain”?—snows

@snows the ending was WILD—Abberina

Abberina, I spent the whole day lying and crying after the 90s miniseries, are you allright?—Carole

“Wild”??? How are you still living! That ending! Gghh!—snows

Do you need something? A glass of water? Therapy?—Carole

My heart hasn’t recovered yet. And I watched it 4 years ago.–Carole

Christine Who?: One would think that Christine’s debut in Hannibal would have the streamers’ full attention. But no. All eyes were on Raoul in his box. Or maybe just unpacked from the box he came in.

can it be? can it be a robot?—christinegrrl

can it be chreeeestineeee—butdreamsofbeauty

engage clapping program—Aldebaran

clap beep boop clap clap—angelofthelake

beep boop clapping action beep boop—Jadowdra

EXECUTE EMOTION—missbuster

Stache or cache?: Once we were beginning to get an idea of the limits of Raoulbot’s programming, we turned our attention to his most character defining feature—the mustache.

omg mustache—MelancholysChild

His mustache is a little full for me. Oh well. I guess that’s where he hides his secrets.—haunted-hideaway

wowWWWW—put that boy in a floofy shirt and stick him in the pirates of the caribbean ride at disney, damn—snows

it’s where he hides his processer—therosenpants

haunted he needs something to cry into—ashadeintheshade

That is not a mustache, that is fiber optics—Aldebaran

although he is stiffer than the other robotic pirates—snows

Haunted, his secret is his charger entrance—Carole

You keep your secrets then, Raoul—haunted-hideaway

Autocorrect Follies:

Pinging = Piangi–Bozzleboz

Paul Stankey = Paul Stanley—IamErik771

Ironic Statement is Ironic:

I always forget there’s an elephant–yiks

Cooper finds a role:

[as Buquet appears] oh hey look it’s cooper!—snows finally a role for cooper, buquet all the way—Aldebaran ohh wait sorry it’s the other scruffy creepy nasty weirdo—snows

*Best from Onthevirg’s Mom: “like stolles passarino cooper should always be buquet—it’s a fitting role”

Joseph Buquet job performance review:

DO YOUR FREAKING JOB BUQUET. –madamefaust I’ll never get over that line “i promise i wasn’t doing my job!!!!!”—butdreamsofbeauty

The Boy Ain’t Right: Little Lotte made it very apparent that Raoul may have been compromised.

Don’t make fun of him, you guys. The tiny alien in his head driving his body is doing his best, ok?—haunted-hideaway

li tt le l ott e—tearoses

So….Erik’s looking like an awesome choice right about now…–HerbalPath

Usually i’m r/c but uh not today—yiks

His hat is just an excuse he’s going to recharge a bit—Carole

That was almost threatening how he said little lotte—Ladyrock18

*Vintage MadameFaust: Don’t quote me too much, my knowledge is based on judicious use of Wikipedia;-)

[inspired by Raoul’s Little Lotte performance] CHOCOLATES

HUMANS LOVE CHOCOLATES *Biggest Organ in Paris: The mirror scene included a thunderous organ accompaniment. It took me ten minutes to write a non-filthy sentence that conveyed that information while containing the word “organ.” The Saturday Streamers were fired up! Except for a certain statistician–

WOAH—therosenpants THAT ORGAN—PureAnon ORGAN—haunted-hideaway Wow—DocTy ORGAN!—butdreamsofbeauty did you hear that??????—therosenpants organ—DocTy Orrgannnnn—Xyloghost that roused me from Lore Olympus—therosenpants ORGAN!—Jawodra What’s with the loud organ?—maze-zen organ AWESOME—snows THE ORGAN WAS PERFECT—whereisthepersian I loved it!—MelancholysChild Is that new? that’s BADASS–snows Organ <3—Carole The organ is loud because Ben is loud—PureAnon Erik is playing his pocket organ–Abberina It’s the phantom of the phantom of the opera—wheel-of-fish

Oh God now I have to count Organ mentions (>20) and everyone is going to judge me—Aldebaran

*What scent are the Phantom’s candles: Previously established in the official “Love That Lair” candle line, in addition to Vanilla Brown Sugar, Cucumber Melon, Tobacco Spice, Underground Despair, and Hopeless Mist, the newest entry unveiled for this stream was Sepulchral Solitude, a light and airy blend of ennui, nihilism and condensation, perfect for occasional bouts of midnight composing.

*The Phantom’s pillows mentions: 2

obligatory pillow mentions, they are a nice colour scheme–missbuster

Baritone Love Fest:

we! love! a baritone! phantom!—butdreamsofbeauty

Baritones are the best!–PureAnon

Yes!—JacobZ

Yes to baritones. To whatever they ask.—Aldebaran

baritones are incredible—angelofthelake

I like em big and boomy—Bozzleboz

yes they are—MelancholysChild

The deeper and boomier, the better—PureAnon

*Erik has Skillz:

Okay so Ben just flipped through about six alternate personalities in a single line, and that’s impressive—snows

his voice is like chocolate sauce—Benny-Lynne

His voice is so deep I wanna scuba dive in it—Benny-Lynne

The Swagger at Rest:

Sir must you spread your legs so—snows

snows yes he MUST—ashadeintheshade

nice stance—MelancholysChild

Oo. Manspreading—Bozzleboz

but like… the good kind–snows

Sweet Music’s Throne: Ben’s nascent aggression came out in his organ playing. The INSTRUMENT!

OMG HIS KNEES This is really funny to me—madamefaust

He is def using his knees a lot—christinegrrl

Oh he’s….trying to play the keyboard—missbuster

He’s putting his back into that organ playing, there—haunted-hideaway

he’s definitely a more aggressive phantom I think—wheel-of-fish

A good squat workout I guess?—christinegrrl

Lift with your knees man—haunted-hideaway

The key to being an organist is all in the lumbar–Jacobz

Ben’s stance remains a source of….let’s call it concern. Yes, concern:

He’s got good stance—ashadeintheshade

why are his legs SO far apart though—butdreamsofbeauty

because they’re so loooong—missbuster

power stance—MelancholysChild

is he riding an invisible horse?—jadowdra

And, inevitably, boner mentions: 5 (You know who you are. Good thing, because I was watching Ben.)

The Phantom is pleased to announce: boner mentions are ummm holding firm

Christine makes questionable choices:

oh she looked down—christinegrrl

she totally looked down and then bolted but let’s be real WHY RUN—snows

Boner-adjacent vocabulary:

Horny and variants (>17)

Lusty (2)

Organ—THE INSTRUMENT!! (>20)

Christine does not stan a crafty Phantom:

he’s doing so well then he has to bring Barbara into it—Virg’s mom

SEE? I MADE THIS FOR YOU?

OOPS

THAT DID NOT GO TO PLAN—haunted-hideaway

Strange Ships: The debut of a long overdue category highlighting all the really random ships that are proposed during a given stream.

Erik/RaoulBot—haunted-hideaway

Andre/Carlotta–????

Barbara/severed Hannibal head—????

Christine/Luigi—ashadeintheshade

Barbara/new and improved sexbot from LND—Onthevirg

RaoulBot/Barbara—DocTy {streamers were split here that Barbara shouldn’t settle versus OTP}

Yes, I know, it’s a great disservice to Barbara but still, maybe they can bond over replacement parts—DocTy

Only in this streams I walk away with either a new favourite actor, a fanfic recommendation and/or a new pairing to ship—Jadowdra

*Education of the Innocent: Several seminars were held this stream. First, a wide ranging and frank discussion of historically accurate ballet rats, pimping and ummm social diseases. We segued from a dissertation on our own Madame Giry as a probable pimp to the topic of the hierarchy of French Royalty. These topics heavily featured our resident history buffs therosenpants, angedelamusique, PureAnon and madamefaust, with varying degrees of participation in the pimping and social disease discussions. Second, a discourse on “the catch” and variations, the catch being allowed in London and not on Broadway due to union rules. A variant unknown to me, the “half catch” was mentioned. Third, a sadly eye-opening (for some) discussion of the “horsey dance”:

Look, Norm was directed to do the horsey dance. Anything is possible on Broadway.—madamefaust

sorry a HORSEY DANCE—butdreamsofbeauty

HORSEY DANCE???—onthevirg

horsey dance…??—angelofthelake

ah yes the ever classic jumping up and galloping horsey dance—madamefaust

It was more of a forceful trot during ‘Order your fine horses’ in Final Lair—madamefaust

faust you can’t just drop that in chat and not explain yikes—butdreamsofbeauty

someone link the gif—andgedelamusique

[fatefully the gif was linked]

thanks, I hate it!—butdreamsofbeauty

OH I thought that was a JOKE, that was REAL?—ashadeintheshade

oh noooo I saw that in like a compilation of funny phantoms and i thought it was a joke oh no—ashadeintheshade

The Horsey Dance claims more victims–Aldebaran

STYDI Sound effects:

[the Phantom collapses]

plorp—wheel-of-fish

plorp—MelancholysChild

Now I want to hear his palms squeak on the ground—madamefaust

I’m Jewish and I don’t approve of this level of ham Curse youuuuu—JacobZ

Prior to Il Muto the organ makes another appearance. The INSTRUMENT!!!:

Organ boop!—Bozzleboz

Organ again. Oh God now I said it.—Aldebaran

Aldebaran, you can’t escape the organ. The Phantom’s organ WILL find you.—PureAnon

this Erik is so extra he took the organist’s place in the orchestra—DocTy

Il Muto Pillow Mentions: 1

Fascinating discussion about which is worse/better, bad actors or boring actors:

It’s the old argument between what’s worse bad or boring—GlassPrism

is it better to burn out or fade away—wheel-of-fish

Is it more fun to watch an Uwe or a Thiago—GlassPrism

Thiago activates my RAGE setting.—madamefaust

AIAOY is never make me watch this again: Words cannot capture AIAOY. Nevertheless we tried. Here are selected comments.

EXECUTEEMPATHY2.0—missbuster

Maybe there is a rat driving him by his mustache like in Ratatouille. Raoultatouille.—missbuster

turn.her.90.degrees—Aldebaran

if she shakes him, I bet we can hear him rattle—DocTy

Raoul.exe has stopped working—christinegrrl

he bluescreened—butdreamsofbeauty

error 404—angelofthelake

can you even play Doom on this Raoul?—Jadowdra

Does he even like her?—madamefaust

He’s just staring into the abyss—angelofthelake

Why did no one tell him that wooing does not involve low-level dread—JacobZ

<10> no more talk of darkness GOTO20—snows

<20> forget these wide eyed fears GOTO30—snows

his wooing program has bugs–Aldebaran

YOU ARE NO BETTER THAN MY ARCH-ENEMY THIAGO–madamefaust

are they actually kissing?—madamefaust

now you must place your face upon her face and remain still—butdreamsofbeauty

this is depressing—virg’s lil sister

It’s more fun to suffer as a group—wheel-of-fish

Prevailing Theory:

The Phantom clearly switched Raoul with a mannequin—Maze-zen

Fondly Remembering Christian Lund during this AIAOY: 4

Fondly Remembering “the Boop” during this AIAOY: 5

*Requests for AIAOY Kiss replay: 0

Priorities Straight: Host Fish caller for dog pictures on her blog during the stream, resulting in the following mentions

Dogs (35, may need to be adjusted as one of Flora’s dogs is large enough to count as two), Goats (6), Cats (9), Rabbits (5), Chickens (3) Regular non-Cherik deer (1) Pig (1) Cherik deer (9) actual human children (1)

The Masquerade, or as some wags had it due to the mannequins on the staircase, the de Chagny family reunion:

Let’s see the robot try to dance—katarinajones

dance.exe—whereisthepersian

dance.exe failed to start—phantomofthebasement

He is going as a robot to the masquerade–Aldebaran

People gonna trip over his charging cable—whereisthepersian

Relief is the wrong emotion to feel when the Red Death arrives:

Why at a costume party is everyone afraid of a costumed man? How do they know to be scared? Do they hear the background music?—JacobZ

It’s his authoritative stance—madamefaust

Christine’s reaction maybe?—ktarinajones

I think they’re afraid he’s going to drop another chandelier on them. Which, valid.—madamefaust

They saw the bead work. They know who it is.—haunted-hideaway

*Sad comment is sad: commenting on the ornate bow on the score for Don Juan Triumphant

He wraps it up like the present he never received.—haunted-hideaway

*Fathering Gaze lyric: 1

*That staff tho:

“I’m going to a graveyard. I should take my shooty stick with the skull on it!”—haunted-hideaway

We passed the Point of No Return long ago. From the auction, in fact:

his accent, lol–ashadeintheshade

Accent—Bozzleboz

itsa me…—Aldebaran

ITSA HIM—madamefaust

I hate you all—wheel-of-fish

And Ben plays videogames backstage. His inspiration is literally Super Mario.—madamefaust

That was some nice cup stroking—GlassPrism

The Raoul Hole holds no dangers for Raoulbot:

Oh no he’s going to rust and shut down in the lake—wheel-of-fish

They spray him down and moisten him before he jumps in, otherwise he’ll just float on top—haunted-hideaway

Raoul’s wifi is down once more:

Is the boat stuck? Oh, there it goes—madamefaust

The radio signals running Raoul confused the boat—Aldebaran

The organ makes a return in Down Once More: The INSTRUMENT!!!!: 2

Veil Fluff Mentions: 2

he didn’t fluff the veil—ashadeintheshade

I like the veil fluff–ashadeintheshade

Veil Yeet Mentions: 11

The Kiss. An actual human kiss, unlike AIAOY:

ohhh he bends into the kiss—Aldebaran

Aw he’s TRYING to figure out how to kiss—Flora-Gray

He done touched a lady.—haunted-hideaway

That was a good kiss—Abberina

Bozzleboz breaks me, as the Phantom approaches hanging Raoul with a candle:

I burn him now, yes?–Bozzleboz

The Phantom breaks us:

oh god. He just broke me.—Bozzleboz

ohhhh poor angel—Aldebaran

aw erik :(–angeloflake

he’s so resigned:(–Benny-Lynne

we love an exhausted depressed sewer man—butdreamsofbeauty

This Phantom survives just so he can go disassemble Raoul—Aldebaran

Looks Like We Made It:

Time to go plug Raoulbot in for the night—angelofthelake

Performance Comparisons for Raoul/Career Suggestions for Raoul, You Decide:

Nutcracker—Aldebaran

Mannequin Bride—coroaline

Tin Man—christinegrrl, yiks

Edward Scissorhands—GlassPrism

Calculon from Futurama—IamErik771

C3PO—wheel-of-fish

Automaton—ktarinajones

Dalek–missbuster

Cardboard Cutout—haunted-hideaway

Hat Stand–Bozzleboz

*Things I wish I had said:

Christine in Final Lair: She has to go put Raoul in a bag of rice but she’ll be back—Benny-Lynne

*Statistician Aldebaran’s two favorite personal quotes:

little known fact, the red scarf is actually a fanbelt from Raoulbot

19 years on the score, 1 year on the bow

Phew! See you shortly with the By the Numbers of Moscow from LAST week!!! Aldebaran

#saturday streams #aldebaran #by the numbers #submission

36 notes · View notes

gwenore · 4 years

Text

The Demon’s Opera house. Chapter 16.

Chapter 16: An accident postpones the opening night.

Note: Barley is my own character.

What the two remaining in the abyss under the Opera house did not know was that there were no rehearsal that day.

This was because when the stagehand named Barley Heidern rushed across the stage before practice, the floor gave away under him.

Luckily the nineteen year old survived with a massive bruise down his side, but nothing broken, though it was advised he would take it easy for the day.

It was when Barley was being hauled out of the hole by some of the other stage hands, another ran to get the two managers.

Raoul had a meeting with Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre in regards to the opening of the new show when the news of the damaged stage was relied, so rushed down with them to see the damage.

It was… drastic.

“Oh, Andre! How could this have happened?! What did you brutes do to ruin an entire stage floor?!”

Joseph Buquet, the chief of the stagehands pointed towards young Barley who was comforted by some of the dancers, since they all wanted the latest gossip out of him.

Barley, noticing that he was being pointed at, stared at the managers and the vicomte with big nervous eyes.

“I did nothing, just ran across with some equipment… that is all we do it dozens of times a day… in fact that is just about all we do!” he protested against any wrong doing on his part.

Many of the workers were already removing the loose boards caused by the accident.

“It looks like the boards were heat damaged,” one of them piped up.

“Amazing they held this long,” another said.

“They would not have held up at opening night that is for certain,” a third asserted.

Raoul furrowed his brows. Heat damage? From under the floor boards? How was that even possible? Especially when he could not see any damage from above it.

As he walked over to access the damage he could see what the stagehands were talking about.

The underside of the boards were cracking, even scorched black in several places. After that with performances and such having happened… well… at least they were lucky that the only one who had come to harm due to this.

Looking down to the hole he tired to figure out if there was a source for the heat. Had there been a fire?

It was possible… but it would have to have been sustained for a long time to cause that damage, especially as it had gone some time between when the heat had weakened the boards and when they broke.

However all that could be seen down there was a throne. What? Some sort of prop?

He was certain there was several thrones laying around the opera house in some sort of storage at the very least, but…

Why would this one be under the stage.

He glanced towards Buquet. “Is there a way under the stage normally? I have heard several stages that has that.”

The stage hand shook his head. “This was constructed without it. If we need to make a drop for a scene we have a false floor to put on top of this one… at least partially.”

Raoul sighed. “Any reason why that is there?” he mentioned towards the chair.

“Must have been there when the stage was created,” the other man shrugged the shoulder. “Who knows. Perhaps a prank.”

Raoul’s eyes then went again to the glass pillars and he remembered Meg’s words about them and what they were for.

“Do you know how the pillars worked?” Raoul asked. Joseph Buquet followed his eyes.

“No one knows sir… only the architect did and well…” the man held up the piece of rope he was carrying as he mad an exaggerated hanged man’s grin.

Raoul had spent enough time around sailors not to have his sensibilities shocked, deciding to ignore it.

“Bet it is the demon’s!” Barley piped up, though the rest laughed at him.

“I hardly think it is the demon’s,” even Raoul had to scoff at the young man’s claim.

“Well… it fits don’t it?” Barley attempted to defend himself. “After all no one knows how the pillar works, everyone assuming it has to come from under the stage, and yet… well I have been under the stage and there ain’t anything there except for the chair. Also would he not want to watch the performance or something, being with the primadonna and all?”

“You need to stop listening to the stories of the ballet girls!” Buquet scoffed.

Raoul had also decided to disregard what the young man said, after all… it could only be nonsense of an overactive imagination. Nothing more.

He glanced over towards where Meg and her mother stood. Meg seemed to try to speak with her mother and ask questions… Raoul was certain that Madam Giry had been at the opera house the longest… at least from what Meg had been saying that she was just about raised in the opera house.

He took some time to simply watch her expression.

Her lips were taught… as they always were into that stern frown… but there were… concern in her eyes.

Worry.

Fear…

He just about moved to confront her when Carlotta’s voice practically rang through the opera hall. And when a primadonna chose to use that powerful voice to shout about how dare the managers put her and everyone else in danger… you certainly heard it.

Of course the new managers couldn’t have known, but Raoul figured that it was for the best that they got this scolding. After all… he imagined if his friends were on stage and it collapsed…

He tried to tune out Carlotta as there wasn’t much he could do about that fact, but that was just about impossible.

It all ended with her demanding that the entire floor had to be taken out and replaced. The managers tried to say how expensive that would be and how long it would take, which resulted in another screaming fit from the primadonna who Raoul noticed was quite red in the face at this point as she lamented about how they didn’t care about her safety.

Again… her demands were really to the benefit of all in the end… though his ears did wish she would go about it in a manner which did not remind him of a foghorn.

Still… it wasn’t likely that the managers would listen to anyone but Carlotta so… the foghorn was excused.

The whole thing ended with Carlotta storming out and proclaiming that she was travelling to Milan and that she would not be back until the floor was fixed and unless it was to her standards, she would not be back.

Her co-star… and many thought lover… Ubaldo Piangi stormed out with her, mirroring her complaints.

Raoul was just rather happy that his ears were given a rest. It was clear now that opening night would have to be postponed… again for the best.

He had already made a mental note to make out a check to aid with the finances of such an endeavor… however his mind was now on more urgent matters.

He was certain Madam Giry knew something that she wasn’t telling… but as he moved to confront her he noticed that during the spectacle that was Carlotta… Madam Giry had already vanished.

Erik’s red eyes were glowing down as he observed the reparations done on the stage. He and Christine had learned about what had happened and about the play’s postponement the day after when Christine had returned from the abyss for practice.

Standing up on the walkway above the stage looking down he could easily see his father’s throne.

Apparently people had tried to move it, but had only burned their hands. After that there was no payment large enough for anyone to dare to touch the cursed demon’s throne, believing something bad would happen to them should they do so.

Of course they were not wrong about that…

Christine was down there with her friend, the ballet girl and that… boy!

Erik felt his lips twitch ever so slightly and he pondered if he could heat up the boards under the nobleman’s feet to the point that they would crack and break, sending him tumbling through.

Perhaps that would get him to leave the place…

Christine wouldn’t approve of that however…

He could of course say that it was a simple matter of the floorboards being unstable due to the heat damage that they had suffered, but at this point he was certain that she would look through his lies…

She was far too clever to fall for any of his lies…

A bit unfortunate at times, but he certainly wouldn’t want to change anything about her. Still… perhaps just… singe the tip of his mustache perhaps?

It would most certainly cause an amusing reaction if nothing else…

“Are you Mephistopheles?”

The voice of someone standing right next to him was nearly enough to make the demon startle violently enough to fling him over the railing and send him tumbling down towards the stage.

Turning to his side he saw a young boy of perhaps ten standing there and looking at him without an ounce of fear.

Where the hell had this spawn come from?!

“Uh… excuse me?” he had to ask even as he tried to desperately catch his breath.

“You are playing Mephistopheles aren’t you? That is why you are dressed like that? With the horn and all? A bit odd that you only have one though.”

The child went on as if he didn’t stand before a terrifying being from the underground, but simply another actor in costume.

“Uh… I suppose I am…” was all that the demon really could say.

“I didn’t know they were putting on Faust…”

“Early stages…” Erik glanced the brat up and down. Certainly he was dressed well. Blond hair… smug look. The family resemblance was rather… obnoxious. “How does someone your age know Faust?”

“Duh… I am ten, I go to school, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Still… you certainly look the part, do you have a tail too? How does that attach?”

“None of your business.”

Even with how court he was, the child hardly seemed deterred from his questioning.

Christine who was standing down at the stage, listening to what sort of work would be started soon glanced up to the platform where she was certain that Erik was standing. Sure enough she saw him standing there…

And… Philippe…

Christine felt her heart drop.

With a quick excuse that she was going to look for the boy, she practically ran back stage and up the well worn stairs, for now not worrying that also these could have suffered some of the same damage as the stage might have.

At the top she was struggling to catch her breath when she heard the young boy’s voice.

“How does your horn attach? How does the mask work? Do you have makeup under the mask which is going to be revealed later? Oooh can I see?”

The questions were riddled with the excitement of youth, which didn’t look to be letting up at any point.

Erik had been practically pushed back as he did his best to not let the boy come any closer to him.

His eyes met Christine’s and it was now she realized that perhaps it wasn’t Philippe that she had to rescue from Erik… but rather the other way around.

“Philippe!” she exclaimed, drawing the boy’s attention from Erik, who looked absolutely relieved to have someone else handle the little blond gremlin.

“Christine! Are you going to be in the play too?!” the boy seemed far too excited.

“Play?” Christine could not keep the befuddlement from her voice.

“You don’t have to treat me like I am stupid, I know about Faust, and who else would he be dressed up as?” the boy pointed towards Erik who was glaring down at him.

Even then it took Christine a while until she realized what was going on.

Philippe thought… he thought Erik was in costume and not an actual…

“Oh… well, perhaps… but it is early days… very secret…”

Philippe looked at her with a raised brow towards her.

“Why is it secret?” he then asked.

“Well… wouldn’t want to spoil it… especially not before the details are worked out… wouldn’t be fun if everything was known beforehand,” Christine of course did not enjoy lying to this young child, but… she really didn’t have much of a choice. As the alternative.

“Well… I think you would make a good Marguerite,” Philippe then said.

Christine let out a soft laugh. “Thank you, but it will be a while before I am going to get any such role… even if I wouldn’t mind it… it goes to the primadonna.”

“Well I think you sing much better than Carlotta,” the boy said earnestly. Erik had to raise a brow at the child. Seemed the gremlin had taste at the very least. Annoying though he was.

“Something which I absolutely second,” he could not keep himself from saying.

Meeting the demon’s eyes, Christine felt herself fluster again.

“I… well… you are very kind to say that… but…”

“It is not just us who think so… everyone thinks so! I am certain that you will be the next primadonna in no time!”

The boy’s voice piped up. Again… the demon found himself agreeing with him.

“As she should be…” he murmured softly.

Christine tried her best to fight the blush which krept upon her face.

“Uh… Philippe… I think your brother is looking for you, you should…”

“Oh, Raoul is busy with-”

“PHILIPPE?!” Raoul’s voice was heard coming from the stairs, making both Philippe and Christine freeze.

“Best you hurry,” she said, letting the child past her on the walkway seeing how he vanished down the stairs, but when she went to follow, she felt Erik’s hand on hers.

“Uh… I should… what if Raoul comes…” she stuttered, but Erik simply glanced down over the railing.

“Still standing where he was… doubt he even knows about this place…” he then said. Christine furrowed her brows, but moved towards the railing where she indeed saw Raoul standing there talking with some of the workers as he had before, Meg standing not far.

“But…” her face showed the confusion that she felt when she turned towards him. “I heard him! That was the voice of my friend… how…”

It was then that she noticed the faint smirk on the demon’s lips.

“You… that was you… how?”

Erik flicked his forked tongue slightly as she heard his voice from behind her. “One of my talents.”

Even though Christine knew that the voice was coming from the man before her, she could not keep from turning around. Turning around she saw that grin had only grown wider.

“But that was Raoul’s voice.”

Again he grinned, showing that forked tongue slightly as Christine coming from above her.

“As long as I have heard a voice I can speak with it as if it was my own.”

Christine could not keep from looking up, hearing her own voice coming from the outside was bizarre.

“That is…” she said stunned. “It is impressive, but please stop, I do not know what to do with myself.”

“I do apologize… it was just far too amusing for me to resist…”

“I can imagine it was rather amusing… yet… it makes me feel… weird…” she swallowed.

“Hmm… yes… I can see how this can be the case… after all… it was not a talent that my mother passed down after all… rather… well…”

He didn’t need to finish that sentence.

“I figured as much… still… thank you for not doing something to Philippe… I didn’t think you would… just…”

Her voice faded as she gave an apologetic smile.

“My father’s nature holds no sway of children… you need not worry…” he then said softly.

Christine’s mouth made a soft o’ sound.

“The whole; ‘Let the little children come to me…’ bit.”

Erik nodded his head. “I assume as much… though I wasn’t exactly taught about… well… scripture. Certainly did not expect the little gremlin to sneak up on me though. Nor show any fear of me. Then proceed to talk my ears off with inane questions!”

Christine could not keep from smiling at the suffering which Erik had been through.

“He is a child… that is how they are…” she had to say. Erik let out a disgruntled huff.

“Well… they are still insufferable,” he grumbled. Christine simply moved closer to him and gently placed a kiss on his lips which froze the demon in place, his claws digging into the wood of the railing ever so slightly.

“There… does that make it better?” she then asked.

Erik swallowed, licking his lips with that forked tongue, every bit of him just wanting more.

“I suppose it does…” his voice barely broke a whisper.

Christine gently patted his cheek before she proceeded to move to descend the stairs.

“I will see you later Erik…”

“Yes… don’t be long…”

“I promise I won’t.”

And with that she vanished down the stairs, leaving the demon there to touch his lips with trembling fingers, not used to this new version of reality where she would do this so easily… yet not wanting to trade it for the world.

#the demon's opera house #poto erik/christine #phanfic #poto fic #poto e/c #demon au

4 notes · View notes

wordsmith-in-purple · 4 years

Text

The Phantom of the Odd-pera: Ch. 1

Summary: The time: 1881. The place: The Opera Populaire, the glittering jewel in the diadem of the Paris skyline. The players: Orchid, who wants the spotlight. Xena, who wants to keep it for herself. Oprah, who wants to keep everyone safe. Ori, who wants to keep his crush safe. Oona, who wants to keep her BFF safe. Oscar, who wants to do his job. Xavier, who wants the same. Olive and Otto, who want to leave the past behind them. Olympia and Otis, who want to preserve both the present and the future. And the Phantom, who... well... perhaps it would be better if we didn’t know what he wants.

Chapter Warnings: Falling objects, religious imagery

Word Count: 3451

----------------------------------------------------------------

"How long has it been again?"

Otis dug a watch out of his pocket and gave it a glance. "Longer than we expected," he answered, met with a groan from Olympia. Otis couldn't say he blamed his best friend. She'd dragged them here, to the Opera Populaire, about an hour before they technically officially took over ownership and management of the place. About fifteen minutes had passed since their appointment was supposed to have taken place. Olympia had been spending that time pacing up and down the corridor, humming tunes from her favorite operas to herself, expelling the energy that constantly seemed to bubble from within her heart. This section of the place was almost entirely deserted, aside from the occasional stagehand - or maybe it was the same stagehand; it always seemed to be a redhead - dashing by. And yet, there was the constant feeling that someone, something, was there with Otis and Olympia, watching their every move…

Otis shook off his fears and took another look at his watch. What was taking them so long?

The office door swung open. Olympia's glasses nearly flew off her face as she turned to face the tall young man in the door. "Sorry about the wait," he said with a warm, friendly expression. "Olive and I got lost in conversation."

"It's not really a problem, Otto," Otis said as he gave Otto's hand a single firm shake. "We really can't thank you enough."

Olympia bunched herself up beside Otis. "Can't help but notice how deserted this place is," she said in the tone Otis recognized as curious without being explicit about it.

Otto seemed to pick up on Olympia's curiosity. "Oh, the dress rehearsal for Hannibal is happening as we speak," he explained. "Come on in, and let's get this paperwork signed!"

As Otis entered the near-immaculate office - the current managers must have already cleared out their personal belongings - he noted a young woman sitting at one end of the large desk, her chestnut hair done in a simple bun. She looked up as Otto led Otis and Olympia inside. "Thanks for coming in on such short notice," she said in a polite, professional tone.

"You're welcome!" said Olympia with a wide grin. "It's an honor to be here, really it is, Madame Olive. You couldn't be leaving the opera house in more capable hands!"

"I'm counting on it," said Olive, a slight smirk slipping onto her face. "We have the paperwork all ready. Just sign here, here, and here, and we'll be good to go."

Otis took the pen Otto held out to him, scribbled a signature on one of the documents, and passed it to Olympia. She took her time with an elegant signature, one containing a fair amount of loops. The second signature she made was slightly different, and the third little more than a straight set of loops. Typical Olympia, Otis thought with a tiny grin. Always finding a way to make the mundane fun.

"Congratulations," Otto said as he collected the papers. "Now let's go introduce you guys to the cast and crew."

"Aren't they in rehearsal right now?" Otis asked as he stood once more.

Olive stood up and moved to the front of the desk. "Rehearsal should be winding down. We'll find a quiet moment to interrupt," she explained.

"Sounds good to me!" said Olympia, her face exploding in a smile.

Olive and Otto led Otis and Olympia out of the office, down the corridor, and eventually into the front of the house. As they quietly slipped through the doors, the first thing Otis noticed was the chandelier. A beautiful affair of crystal beads and golden vines, it beamed from above the seats, rocking ever-so-slightly back and forth. A high-pitched note hit Otis's ears, and he turned his attention to the stage. There, a shortish woman in an elaborate outfit, complete with full skirt and headpiece, sang cadenzas over a severed head crowned with a wreath of leaves.

"Perfect timing," Olive whispered. "We'll only have to wait a couple minutes before this scene ends."

Olympia gave a little gasp upon looking at the stage. "Is that…"

"Xena Giudicelli," Otto explained in a loudish whisper. "She's been our leading lady for five seasons. I should warn you guys, she can really be a diva when she wants to be. Really expensive tastes…"

"We've handled worse," Otis shrugged as the orchestral accompaniment began with a flourish and the landscape of Carthage became visible onstage. The chorus and corps de ballet filed on, in elaborate (and surprisingly skimpy) outfits of red and green, with a heavy dose of gold trim. The chorus rang out, a tune very familiar to Otis:

"With feasting and dancing and song Tonight in celebration We greet the victorious throng Returned to bring salvation The trumpets of Carthage resound Hear, Romans, now and tremble Hark to our step on the ground Hear the drums, Hannibal comes!"

The chorus line parted to reveal a man in exquisitely detailed armor, including a ridiculously large feather in his helmet. "Xavier Piangi," Olive explained, still whispering. "Our lead tenor, and Xena's boyfriend. He's almost as bad as she is, if you want to talk about being a diva."

"Shh! He's singing!" Olympia was right; Xavier had begun his solo section of the scene. His voice, while powerful, seemed to be simply going through the motions of the music, without finding any amount of emotion in his part.

"Sad to return to find the land we love Threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grasp-"

Someone with a mustache dashed onstage as the music ground to a halt. Olive and Otto let out a simultaneous groan.

"What's wrong?" Olympia asked, a cloud of concern darkening her normally-bright features.

Olive pressed her palm to her face. "It's nothing," she said evasively.

Otto shook his head. "There's nothing wrong with Obfusco, he's just… well…" "He's recently become interested in… certain poets. We can't get a straight sentence out of him anymore. Everything's a metaphor for something else."

Otis nodded, his attention firmly on the events onstage. "Roma is the muddied path compared to Rome's clear sunset…" Mustache Guy - Obfusco, apparently - was musing.

Xavier interrupted, "I get it. I'll sing it the boring way." His speaking voice was almost as emotionless as his singing voice.

Obfusco started offstage, adding, "Let the grasshoppers commence at the sorrowful reunion!"

"How… how do you understand him?" Olympia said, her eyes as wide as her mouth.

"It's mostly context clues," said Olive with a sigh and another shake of her head. Xavier began singing again:

"Sad to return to find the land we love Threatened once more by Rome's far-reaching grasp Tomorrow we shall break the chains of Rome Tonight rejoice, your army has come home-ah!"

"He, uh, doesn't take kindly to criticism," Otto explained with a nervous smile as the leads stepped to the side of the stage while the ballet girls began to dance. An older woman in a black dress and holding a cane observed the dance, her dark eyes scrutinizing every move they made.

"That's Madame Oprah Giry," Olive explained, gesturing towards her. "She's the ballet mistress, but she basically runs this place. Been here longer than anyone." "She was the manager before we stepped in. You don't want to mess with her," Otto added with a shudder.

Almost immediately, Oprah brought her can down with such force that the bang echoed through the theatre space, making all four in the front of the house jump. "You! Orchid! Get your head out of the clouds and get back in time!" she thundered with the volume of a trained singer. The offending dancer, a smallish girl, stuck her tongue out at Oprah before complying, earning a worried glance from the dancer next to her.

"Orchid always had a bit of a rebellious streak," said Olive.

Olympia adjusted her glasses and observed, "That girl next to Orchid, she's really good!"

"That'd be Oona, Oprah's daughter," Otto explained.

"Explains where she gets it," Otis added. The music reached a climax, and the singing began anew:

"Bid welcome to Hanibal's guests The elephants of Carthage As guides on our conquering quest Dido sends Hanibal's friends…"

The leads stepped up to the front of the stage as a giant mechanical elephant was rolled on behind them. "This is my favorite part," Olympia squeaked, clapping her hands together in rapid succession. Once the leads' little duet ended, the chorus took over again as Xavier struggled to get on top of the elephant, requiring a boost from a soldier. He barely made it on top as the scene came to a close.

"This is a good time to introduce you two," Olive suggested as the singers and dancers broke off from their formations to chatter amongst each other. A red-haired stagehand brought on a rope ladder so Xavier could get down from the elephant, and he almost instantly returned to Xena's side. The managers all stepped up to the stage from a staircase.

"Excuse me - excuse me!" Otto called while Olive cleared her throat and Olympia and Otis stood there awkwardly. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to them. Otto turned to Oprah. He didn't even have to open his mouth before she banged her cane again and yelled, "Everybody shut up and listen up!"

"Thank you," Olive said with a genuine smile before turning her attention to the assembled performers. "As you all may or may not know, there have been rumors that Otto and I will be stepping down as managers of the Opera Populaire. I can tell you that they're true."

Otto continued, "But we managed to find a pair of great successors. Allow me to introduce Monsieur Otis Firmin and Madame Olympia Andre!"

Some polite applause came from the crowd as attention fell on the new managers. Olympia dipped into a curtsey, and Otis gave a timid bow.

"So you two think you can run this place?" Xena asked, pushing herself to the front of the crowd and giving a mocking laugh. Before Xena could make another comment, Olympia had run up to her.

"It's an honor to meet you face-to-face," Olympia said in a blur, her words running together, as she pressed her palm into Xena's. "I'm a big fan, I've experienced all your greatest roles!" As Olympia began to list and describe some of these roles, Xena still retained her scowl, but her expression softened slightly upon hearing herself praised.

"Suck-up," Xavier commented dryly. Otis ignored him, also turning to Xena. Olympia's on to something, he thought. It can't hurt to have a good relationship with our employees. Aloud, he asked absently, "Doesn't Ellisa have a nice aria in Act Three of Hannibal?"

"Among many," Xena snarked. "Your point?"

"I was thinking maybe you could sing it for us...unless our musical director objects, of course."

'Well, does he?" Xena looked suggestively at Obfusco, who was already moving to a piano in the wings.

Obfusco's answer rang out dramatically. "The planet-sized nightingale has spoken! Would she enjoy a piece of juicy fruit?"

"Uh, yeah, two bars should work," Olive answered as Otis and Olympia locked eyes in complete confusion. Obfusco began playing a short introduction on the piano, followed by Xena's glistening tones:

"Think of me, think of me fondly When we've said goodbye Remember me every so often Promise me you'll try On that day, that not-so-distant day When you are far away and free If you ever find a moment, Spare a thought for me…"

As Xena took a breath in preparation for the second verse of the aria, a flicker of motion caught Otis's eye. He glanced upward - and saw a backdrop plummeting from the rafters, right towards Xena's elaborate headpiece. "Xena, look out!" he called, just in time for Xena to register the falling fabric and dash out of the way. The backdrop crashed to the stage, sending most of the cast into a tizzy. "He's here!" Otis heard distinctly. "The Phantom - he must be in the rafters!"

Phantom?

One of the ballet girls - Oona, maybe, Otis was having trouble telling the difference between them - was running around in a total panic. She ran straight into Olympia, who grabbed her by the shoulders and said calmly, "Okay, okay, let's get ahold of ourselves, Oona. Breathe… Breathe…"

Otto had rushed to Xena's side. "Signora, are you okay?" he asked, brushing off her dress before getting his hand slapped away by the soprano.

Olive shouted into the flys, "Can you guys get Oscar down here?" "Yeah!" came the response.

"Thanks, O'Conner!"

Otis slipped up to Olive's side. "Olive, what's going on?" he asked in a hushed tone.

Olive whispered back. "It's fine. Oscar probably let go of a rope or something on accident. He's our chief of the flys."

"Yeah, but what about the Phantom everyone's going crazy over?"

Olive paused for a second, but a tall, bespectacled man dashed onstage, coils of rope draped over his shoulder. "Hey guys!" he said in a shaky tone.

"Oscar, what happened up there?" Otto asked.

Oscar shook his head rapidly. "I have no idea, I wasn't up there, no one was up there, I know, I checked, although it's really hard to tell the difference between stagehands, seriously, how many redheads did you guys hire?"

"It's the Phantom!" Oona screamed again as Oscar slipped backstage. "He's gonna kill us all one of these days!"

"Geez, calm down," Otis groaned. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

On the edge of his hearing, Otis heard the slightest hint of a chuckle.

Olympia had joined Otto in calming Xena down. "These things happen," she said with a grin.

Xena was not grinning. She snapped, "'These things happen'? 'These things happen'?! You've been here for five minutes! You know nothing! 'These things' have been happening for three years! Three! Years! And our incompetent managers couldn't even do anything about it! I should have gotten them fired sooner! You guys are gonna be as bad as they were! 'These things happen'? Well, until you can stop 'these things' from happening, this thing does not happen! I QUIT!" With a frustrated snarl, Xena threw her scarf to the ground and stormed offstage.

Xavier turned to the stunned crowd with a smirk, quipped, "Amateurs," and smugly followed his girlfriend.

A moment of awkward silence took the stage. The ensemble seemed very interested in their feet. Olympia stared after Xena, stunned. No one felt comfortable enough to make eye contact with anyone else.

"I believe that's our cue to go?" Olive prompted, starting off the stage.

"Yeah, we should go," Otto said, turning to the new managers one more time. "Good luck, you two," he said with a smile. "Feel free to call on us if you need any help. Honestly, I don't think you'll need it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Otis replied, a smile tugging at the edges of his own lips. Otto followed Olive off the stage and through the house. Otis watched them as they slipped through the house door and left, the shutting door echoing through the house.

"Soooooo…. When's Xena coming back?" Olympia posed to the crowd.

"Not tonight, that's for sure," said Madame Oprah, stepping through the clusters of singers and dancers from out of a shadow. "She's gonna need at least a night to cool off after a rant like that. Anyway, the opera ghost asked me to tell you two a few things..."

"This is starting to get ridiculous," Otis muttered under his breath. Oprah, meanwhile, pulled a piece of yellowed, water-damaged paper from somewhere in her dress and read the text on it aloud:

To the new managers of the Opera Populaire: Welcome to my opera house. I am sure you have already received a warm welcome from the singers, dancers, and stagehands here at the Opera. Perhaps you have already met some of the more… colorful characters. But you have yet to meet me - although I am already well acquainted with the both of you. With luck, we will have no need to see each others' faces during your period of ownership. Follow my instructions carefully, and I assure you that you and all others here will be safe. To begin, you may already know by now that the fifth of the publicly available viewing boxes provides the best view of the stage as well as the best acoustics. I am used to nothing but the best. Therefore, my first request is that you leave Box Five empty during all performances and rehearsals for my private usage. Then there is the matter of my salary. The former managers were generous enough to offer me twenty thousand francs per month. Now that the Viscount de Changey has offered his patronage of the opera house, perhaps you can afford to pay me more than that. For now, that concludes my commands. More of my comments will make themselves noticeable as I observe how you perform as managers. Remember, you may own the opera house, but it belongs to me. I have the honor to be Your Obedient Servant, O.G.

"You sure you didn't write that yourself?" Otis asked after Madame Oprah had finished reading.

"I can't write that eloquently," replied Madame Oprah.

Olympia rushed to Otis's side and added, "Um, that's nice and all, but we have an opera tonight and no leading lady. Who's Xena's understudy?"

"The examination takes place on the rooftops," Obfusco declared from the wings. "The hippopotamus was born today!"

"Translation…" Otis said with a sigh.

Rolling her eyes, Madame Oprah said, "He said there's no understudy, since the production is so new." The newly minted managers let out a simultaneous groan.

"I'll sing it!"

Otis and Olympia turned around to see that one of the other ballet girls, the short one, the one Olive had identified as Orchid, had stepped forward. "I can sing the part," Orchid continued. "I've been taking lessons from a really good teacher."

"Oh, really?" Olympia asked hopefully. "Who?"

"Like I'm gonna tell you, Sherman," said Orchid with a smirk.

"Actually, my name's Olympia…"

"We don't have time for this," Otis interrupted. "You're Orchid, right?"

"Orchid Daae, yeah."

Daae. That last name sounded kind of familiar. "Any chance you're related to the violinist, I think his name was Gustav Daae?" asked Olympia.

"Oh, that's my grandpa," said Orchid, a slight shadow passing across her face.

Otis laughed, a dry chuckle. "Okay then, Orchid Daae, let's see for ourselves if you inherited any of that musical talent. Obfusco, can we start from the beginning of 'Think of me'?"

Thankfully, Obfusco's only response was to begin the introduction in a more accessible key. Orchid started the song quietly, but intensely. Unlike Xena, she sang with her heart as well as her vocal cords. By the time the bridge rolled around, everyone was staring at the surprisingly powerful singer with awe. A few of the girls had even been reduced to tears.

Olympia, a huge grin on her face, whispered to Otis, "Yeah, she gets the part."

Otis simply nodded. Y'know, this isn't going to be nearly as hard as I thought…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dulcet tones of Orchid's song carried through the house, directly into the waiting ears of an onlooker. Having wrapped himself in a cloak of embroidered black silk, he was virtually indistinguishable from the shadows in and around his perch. He watched as the lady manager rushed up to his pupil, absolutely beaming. And why shouldn't they be impressed? Her voice was only an extension of his own, after all. She'd been able to sing when they met, of course, but not like him. Never like him.

So glad to see that Oprah is cooperating, he thought with an inward grin. I'd hate to see something happen to her… or that nutcase of a daughter she has. And that man - Otis? Whatever his name is, he's going to be trouble. I'll have to keep an eye on him.

And Orchid - my dear, sweet, innocent Orchid… my training has clearly paid off. Your time has come. You'll be prima donna in no time, just like you always wanted.

As he slipped further into the shadows, a flash of paleness caught his eye. He turned. There was a mirror, his reflection barely visible in the dim light. A human head, the only feature. One half was a handsome face, but a mask of beautiful, flawless porcelain covered the other half.

He grinned and slicked back his hair. You handsome devil, you.

No. No, not a devil. Tonight, you're an angel. Just for tonight. Just for her.

It's time I showed her who I really am.

#odd squad #phantom of the opera #musical theatre #fanfiction #crossover

8 notes · View notes