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milady-pink · 10 months

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Rosewood Manor

Summary: The first dinner at the manor, and meeting the fellow players.

Warnings: talk of delicious food

Word Count: 2432 || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Complete Series

AO3

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Chapter 2

After exploring her room a bit, Christine discovered two things. One was a walk-in closet that housed three times as much space for shoes, dresses, tops, bottoms, and accessories than she ever owned. The second was the bathroom; more specifically the bathroom's large claw-foot tub. She was currently relaxing and bathing herself in said tub, as the fragrance of lavender and rose filled the steamy air. Heaven, this is heaven.

When at last Christine decided to emerge from her soothing paradise, she wrapped a towel around both hair and body. She padded over to the vintage gold vanity to apply some light, but sophisticated, makeup that Meg had taught her when they were in their teens. When she accentuated every detail that her face had, and still felt comfortable, Christine walked over to the closet door for her dress. It was a chic 1960’s style sheath dress in red, with some gold accent jewelry to go with it. Once dressed the last thing to do was her hair; or rather what it wanted to do.

When she was little Gustave Daae had the hardest time as a single dad trying to figure out what to do with the mass of curls on his daughter's head. This, on top of a child that loved to sleep in on school days, led to many frustrated mornings. And tears. When Christine wanted a French braid, she got a bunch of knots going down her head; when she declared for half up, half down, she received a pompadour; and when she dared ask for pig tails, she ended up with two puffs of hair that made a boy in her class call her a poodle. It wasn’t until meeting Anette Giry through his daughter’s dance class that Gustave learned what deep conditioner was. Meeting Anette also gave Christine a lifelong partner in crime, so really it was worth it in the end.

Tonight however, Christine decided to let her hair do its thing, something she learned it liked to do a lot as it got longer and she got older. So, with her natural curls on full display, after defusing and conditioning, Christine was ready to meet her fellow guests. At the door she slipped on her gold strappy heels, and shut her door starting down the hallway that Erik and herself came up hours ago.

The short walk gave Christine the chance for more ogling of the incredible house, a manor not a house, as she searched for the dining room. Down the grand staircase into the ballroom she looked towards the back doors, which happened to be made of glass, providing the perfect view of the pool and yard. To the left and right of the back doors and windows were two sets of French doors, exactly the same in their cream coloring and ornate carvings, but only the right side was opened.

Ok Christine, you’ve got a fifty-fifty chance here. Please don’t be the first one to mess this up. Oh boy, if you think finding the dining room is hard, how are you going to manage the first challenge?

Walking over to the right hand side she heard some murmuring from the open French doors. You can do this Christine, and don’t be a doormat. Stepping into the dining room, she found herself staring at three people already sitting down.

“Ah,” one man exclaimed, “another one to arrive. We’ve just been getting to know each other please, find your seat.” He looked to be in his fifties or sixties with hair that seems to be graying in some spots, and a mustache that could rival Tom Seleck’s.

“Yes I’m sure everyone will be gathered soon,” replied a portly man leaning back in his seat. “And then we eat!” At this both men gave a hearty laugh.

Christine found her name at the table next to the portly man. The rectangular table was arranged with four people on one side, four on another, and one chair at the head of the table facing the French doors that all guests walk through. Christine and her neighbor sat with their backs facing the windows and subsequently the backyard, while the older gentleman sat at the far left of them on the opposite side of the table.

The large man was quite right in his predictions, for soon after Christine got comfortable more people arrived for dinner. In order of appearance walked in a short, skinny girl with equally short blonde hair; a man about the same height as the girl before him with a not-so-subtle comb over; a fairly tall woman with long dark hair and olive skin; and lastly entered a stout woman with hair so red it couldn’t have been natural.

“Ah, seems the best really are saved for last,” teased the red headed woman with a sly smile. After looking around for their respective placements, everyone settled down into polite greetings and introductions.

When at last everyone was seated comfortably at the dark oak table, a tall suited form walked into the dinning room from a swinging door that, supposedly, leads to the manor’s kitchen. All eyes were on Erik as he gracefully walked over to the head of the table, and placed both hands on the chair. With all eyes on him he announced, “I am afraid Mr. Joseph Bouquet will not be participating in the events these following weeks.” After finishing, he picks up the eloquent chair and retreats back through the swinging door to the kitchens. Silence befell upon Rosewood Manor’s guests after the interruption of the shadowed man.

“Strange man, that one is,” was heard murmuring near the mustachioed man’s seat. Thankfully the awkward silence was disrupted when several women wearing maids uniforms and identical hair buns entered carrying platters with food. Placed in front of her, Christine was once again amazed by the mystical Manor and its inhabitants. Sitting on bone white china sat two legs of lamb laying over some roasted carrots and golden potatoes, with a garnish of thyme rested on top. Once the maids left, the masked butler reappeared, much to the party’s dismay.

“Tonight Rosewood Manor greets our guests,” he started, seemingly reading from a notecard with the Manor’s crest elegantly printed on the facing side, “with an herb roasted rack of lamb on this, your homecoming. After introductions have been, made and dinner eaten, my associate Erik shall read yet another card describing the games to be played along with my role. Until then, Bon Appétit.” With that, Erik makes his exit swift, leaving the dining room to converse amongst themselves.

“Well, I think we take Y’s advice and start with introductions,” suggested the bright redhead who had entered last.

Starting at the far right was the older of the two men who were already waiting when Christine arrived. Richard Firmin was a young boy in Philly who saw first-hand how much money affected everything; health, happiness, and home. His first and only goal in life was to buy everything he ever wanted; and he accomplished just that by playing by the rules, well, his rules. Now residing in California as a man of 62, he had a very reputable career as a financial administrator. Those who worked with him had the pleasure of learning everything there is to know about accounting and numbers, in the form of cash that is. He decorated his home very nicely, choosing to show his wealth off through expensive and rare items found throughout; even his bathroom had hand-made tile from Iran. Even if sometimes he wished he didn’t, his wife spends most of their income on her dog’s collar and matching outfits. He thanks Tootsie the Yorkshire terrier every night he doesn’t have to attend one of his wife’s friend’s parties because he pooped on their hand-knotted Prussian wool rug.

Next to Richard sat Jamie. She was short and frail looking with blonde hair that looked like wheat in the sun. She grew up with two older brothers and one younger sister so sharing was a word she learned very early on in childhood. She never got anything of her own, usually they were handed down from her brothers then onto her sister once they didn’t fit anymore. The first thing she got that was ever truly her own was a My Little Pony hairbrush. Well, maybe it wasn’t hers to start, but when she saw that ginger girl take it out of her bag, she knew it had to be hers. So, during recess Jamie pretended she forgot her scarf in her backpack; and the teacher didn’t know whose backpack was whose, so when she went to the ginger girl’s and grabbed the brush she hid it in her pocket then retrieved her scarf and acted like everything was normal. It was Rainbow Dash, her favorite because Jamie always wanted to be that way; outspoken, athletic, and a go-getter. The next day at school the ginger girl didn’t even know it was gone, so it must have been fate; she still has that brush, in fact it’s in her room at the manor.

Beside Jamie was the empty seat, but across from that was Carlotta Guidicelli. She had a rough life; no, really. First her father leaves for another woman, can’t blame him, and her mother wanted a boy. So really, she had to fend for herself. Skip to puberty and suddenly everyone wanted her! Even if “everyone” meant boys and “her” meant her breasts, she wasn’t complaining. Over time she learned how to wield the power that came along with God’s globes that he gifted her and landed a husband. And not only a husband, but one with a HUGE….wallet, tee hee. Alas, over the years their marriage dwindled and sparks fizzled out but it wasn’t Mr.Big who wanted out, oh no, Big Red had set her sights on a much older man; Ben Franklin. Thankfully, by some cosmetic cosmic magic, a divorce was agreed upon; and after some more magic in the form of lawyers and, double d bribery, an alimony was agreed upon. Now, she never has to work a day in her life again, so what if she'd wed then fled? Carlotta is not a gold digger; she would never risk breaking a nail!

Across from Jamie and next to Christine sat the plump and pompous Piangi. Surprisingly, Ubaldo was a healthy sized child living on the outskirts of Genoa, Italy. It was only when his family moved to America that he first learned about hunger; and not only for food. As he grew up and made his way into the world of law and order, wanting to do right by his immigrant family, he landed a job at a prominent firm and built his name, salary, and belly. So what went wrong? Well, on the night of his law school graduation he participated in the celebratory ritual of getting plastered; he figured that after going through both a bachelors and law degree, one beer couldn’t hurt right? Wrong; one turned to five and five turned to a twelve pack. And it didn’t stop there, as a matter a fact he almost missed his bar exam because of the all night bender he pulled the night before; evidently when he showed up barley on time, he still had some of the buzz left. Along with all that drinking, a boy’s gotta eat and boy does he. The drinking isn't a problem, he’s simply a social drinker, even if the maiale is alone.

On the left side of Christine sat André. Oh, André. He’s had furrowed brows and a yell in his throat since he was born; and it only got louder as he grew. With five rowdy older brothers running around the house, he had to find his voice somehow. And when he did he never stopped using it, all the way through school and getting his diploma. The voice that got him through practice trials in school would ultimately garner him relative fame within the legal community; unless he lost. Heaven forbid he lost a case without any soundproof rooms nearby. If such circumstances ever did happen, and they have, Hell was to be paid. It has been said that not even a spoiled toddler who dropped their ice cream could rival the tantrums that he would routinely throw. Feet stomping, petty insults, and cranky faces anyone who witnessed such a loss from the famed attorney would have thought they were watching an episode of Toddlers & Tiaras. These immature outbursts eventually cost him his job and wife of 14 years, ouch. Seems like someone suffers from anger mismanagement.

Finally, at the very far left, across from Firmin, perched Sorelli. Her beauty has always been a staple, giving her enough tips at her bartender job to buy a small apartment. Her childhood was fairly normal for this tall drink of water; the only real strife that seemed to plague her was when she dropped out of college for a boy. Her family was furious but she couldn’t understand why; after following him from The Bronx, NY to sunny California, she found out. In an unfortunate twist of irony it was the day she just got back after nailing her interview at Populaire: bar and grill, that she stumbled in on her boyfriend hooking up with their neighbor. Luckily, after she kicked him out, her first week at work ended up being the best week of her life; she met a man. After multiple nights of the handsome stranger hitting on her and asking for her number, she finally told him about her last relationship and that things were a bit too raw to start again; even better, he replied stating that if she ever needed someone to talk to, he was available. Really, what was a girl to do? Living across the country, finding out her beau was a cheating scumbag, and dwindling on finances, but accept dinner with the sexy stranger from work; and if he happened to kiss afterwards, where’s the harm? After a few short weeks of meeting, her casual lover turned into a patron after hearing her complain about paying rent for an apartment by herself without her ex. And thus the two have been meeting and “chatting” for the past three years. Bottom’s up!

“Sorry I’m late, traffic was a nightmare.” Announced a voice with a boyish charm. If she weren’t already sitting, Christine would have had to have taken a seat. For the face, nay, person who inhabited the voice was…

Raoul

#phantom of the opera #raoul x christine #christine x erik #erik destler #christine daae #raoul de chagny #musical fanfic #andrew lloyd webber #carlotta giudicelli #la sorelli #little jammes #Richard Firmin #Gills Andre #ubaldo piangi #phantom x reader #foodporn #murder mystery

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polikszena · 1 year

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Ficlet Advent Calendar - December 10

Title: Christmas spirit Fandom: The Phantom of the Opera Characters: Giles André, Richard Firmin, Reyer, Carlotta Guidicelli, The Phantom (Erik) Relationships: André/Firmin Word Count: 1069 Rating: Teen and up audiences Summary: As Christmas is getting nearer, The Phantom of the Opera decides to add his own touch to the festive decoration of the Garnier Palace. Notes: A little bit of festive crack straight out of the Paris Opera House.

December 10 - Christmas spirit

Dear Directors,

As Christmas is getting near, I have decided to collaborate in the decoration of the theatre to spread out a little Christmas cheer in the Opera Populaire. Keep them intact and nobody gets hurt. You do not want to see any alterations on the Nativity set in the hall, or do you? And, as usual, leave Box 5 empty for me.

I shall remain your obedient servant,

O.G.

Monsieur Giles André swallowed thickly as he put the letter down. What on earth did the Phantom add to the otherwise tasteful decoration inside the building? His imagination began to run wild and he envisioned cut-off body parts hanging from the pine branches and red tinsels. And how dare he threaten them again? And what did he want to do with the Nativity set? Rumours had it that a few years ago someone stole Baby Jesus and replaced him with a cabbage.

“What is this supposed to mean?” he burst out.

“Don’t worry, André, I checked it,” Monsieur Richard Firmin assured him. “I thought it was going to be something outrageous, but it’s actually some mistletoes only.”

“Mistletoes?” André raised a brow. “Why?”

“No idea,” Firmin shrugged his shoulders. “It’s still better than body parts. Or cabbages.”

“I’m not complaining, I just don’t understand. Mistletoes are not that beautiful. I think he put them up for a purpose other than decoration.”

“Perhaps he was just touched by the Christmas Spirit,” Firmin mused. “He’s human after all.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Maybe he is a Christmas Spirit himself,” the other director continued. “The Ghost of Christmas That Never Comes.”

“This is not a joke,” André warned him.

“I know. But I think mistletoes are pretty harmless.”

“Well, a few kisses cannot hurt, can they?” André said after thinking about it a little.

At that moment the door opened and Monsieur Reyer stormed into the directors’ office, followed by an enraged Carlotta Guidicelli.

“This has to stop!” the man said.

“Good morning to you, too, Monsieur Reyer,” Firmin greeted him.

“What is it that has to stop?” André wondered.

“Someone hung a mistletoe above my piano, and we cannot start rehearsing because the girls keep kissing me!” he told them, with his moustache trembling with anger under his nose. “On my cheek, of course, but still, it stops us from working!”

“You can go to the other rehearsal room,” Firmin suggested. “Nobody is using that right now.”

“Or we can take the mistletoe down,” Reyer said.

“To have a cabbage instead of Baby Jesus? Thank you, but no.”

“The mistletoes are presents of the Phantom,” André explained.

“Of course,” Carlotta snorted. “Should have known.”

“And what about you?” Firmin asked. “Does the mistletoe stop you from rehearsing a well?”

“No, and that’s the problem! Nobody wants to kiss me!”

Firmin had to press his lips together to suppress his laughter. He could understand the others not wanting to kiss their primadonna – he wouldn’t want to kiss her either, and no mistletoe could make him change his mind.

“Well, according to his letter, there are several mistletoes in the building,” André said, showing her the Phantom’s letter.

“You might get lucky under another one,” Firmin added, and now André had to struggle with laughter. “Just keep on trying.”

“The rules are whoever is standing under the mistletoe can be kissed and not has to be,” Reyer pointed out.

“But what’s the point of mistletoes if nobody wants to kiss me?” Carlotta continued.

“Perhaps they are intimidated by you, Signora,” Reyer said.

“We suggest talking to Signor Piangi about the case,” André said.

“Unless Monsieur Reyer volunteers,” Firmin added.

“My apologies, but I’d rather not,” he shook his head. “I don’t think I’m worthy.”

Nice save, Firmin thought to himself.

“Indeed, you’re not,” Carlotta said then she left the office with a huff and her head held high.

“We’ll continue in the other room, then,” Reyer said and he left as well.

“Harmless, huh?” André asked once they were alone again.

Truth to be told, The Phantom didn’t place the mistletoes just for the Opera Populaire’s delight: he put them up because he wanted to kiss somebody. Christine Daaé, the young and talented soprano. However, he wasn’t lucky. Christine either managed to avoid standing under the mistletoes, or she was always with company. The young ballerinas and the chorus girls soon realised that moving in groups could prevent the men asking them for kisses, even if they were underneath a mistletoe, so Christine was always walking around with Meg Giry or with some other girls from the choir. The Phantom didn’t give up; he continued hanging mistletoes in other places inside the building as well: such as above the door leading to the stage, or some more on the corridors (including one near the directors’ office), and he kept his eyes open.

The cast and the crew got used to the mistletoes within a few days; some of them even forgot that they were there. The Nativity set in the hall remained intact as well: no-one touched Baby Jesus or any other figurine either. One Day, when Monsieur Firmin came to work, he stopped in the corridor to take of his thick, leather gloves, when Monsieur André stepped out of the office.

“Good morning, Giles, how are you?” Firmin greeted him with a smile.

André opened his mouth to reply, but he noticed the mistletoe hanging down from the ceiling, right above his co-director’s head.

“What is it?” Firmin asked, seeing his eyes going wide.

André pointed upwards, and when Firmin saw the mistletoe, he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t mind if you don’t either,” he said. He’d rather kissed André than Carlotta.

“Alright then,” the other man said.

The Phantom, who was hiding in the walls, watching the situation unfold, couldn’t believe his eyes: he had just witnessed the two directors kiss each other.

“Wow,” André mumbled when their lips parted.

“This was much better than I thought it would be,” Firmin admitted.

“Definitely,” André agreed. “Do you think we can run into each other under a different mistletoe?”

“I hope so. Just don’t tell my wife.”

“And to mine.”

They both laughed then Firmin went into the office and André headed to the rehearsal room. Hiding in the walls, the Phantom of the Opera had to admit that for this kiss only it was worth putting up those mistletoes.

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#the phantom of the opera #giles andre #richard firmin #andre x firmin #carlotta giudicelli #monsieur reyer #my fics #ficlet advent calendar 2022 #playing around in canva

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