{Sixty-One ~ Food Run} {Audio//French}

[chorusangel]

[The transmission begins with the sound of footsteps, and when Christine speaks, she's evidently annoyed, but anyone listening closely might note that she seems rather afraid, too.]

Oh, parbleu! Pourquoi maintenant? S'il... Mais non, c'est fou.

[And that's it! The transmission cuts off.

Anyone who happens to be wandering deck 8 might notice Christine

Comments

[asoutcastshear]

[He's been watching you, Chrissie, ever since you left your room. So she is very right to be paranoid. Erik's patience has been stretched thin with her and he wants to know what's going on. And he wants to know now.

But he'll wait.

He figures she must be going back to her room with the tray of food. Just imagine her surprise when she reaches her floor, the elevator doors slide open, and there he is waiting for her. Just like old times.]

[chorusangel]

[...No. No, this cannot be. Her luck is not this terribly, surely?

Yet it is, and Erik is here. He has found her, and he will be so angry. Christine heard his last post, but the music he wrote was beyond her with her voice in its current state, and she thought that perhaps she could lie, say she had missed the post.

He will not let her lie. He will see in her eyes that she is being untruthful.

...Her eyes. Oh, God in heaven, her eyes! Because she was so sure she would not meet Erik or Raoul on this little journey, she had neglected to put on her sunglasses, and her eyes - her freakish eyes - are on display for Erik to see.

Christine takes several steps backwards, a shriek falling from her lips, poised to flee as fast as she can.]

[asoutcastshear]

[Oh no, my dear, you won't be escaping that quickly. He reaches for her hand and moves to pull her back toward him. At the sight of her eyes, his own narrows.

She is clearly not the same Christine he has nurtured and tutored. And loved. He silently curses this ship for changing her.]

We must speak, Christine.

[chorusangel]

[She looks down, avoiding Erik's gaze. Fear - of what he will say, what he will do - fills her, and if she thought she stood a chance, she would try to break free of his hold and run. His grip is too strong, though, and his very presence seems to anchor her to the spot.

There can be no escape from the Angel of Music.]

Wh-what of?

[asoutcastshear]

You have been avoiding me. You have been lying to me. What troubles you that you would turn your back on me?

[His voice remains calm. No need to stir up unnecessary fear in the girl. He's not angry. Irritated, yes. Hurt, definitely. But not angry. So she had nothing to worry about. At least for now.]

[chorusangel]

[Too late for that, Erik; Christine's terrified already, and fear is not helping her think what best to say. She can hardly tell him the whole truth, lest she unleash the full fury of the Phantom of the Opera upon the boat, but perhaps... perhaps part of the truth would suffice? A part that he would consider sufficient, would make sense to him? It will be easier for her, too, for God knows she is and always has been a terrible liar.]

I... I... was afraid that you would be disappointed in me.

[asoutcastshear]

[He nodded and seemed mollified. He knows she's still hiding something from him. You see, Chrissie, Erik's been checking up on you and reading your old transmissions. He knows enough about Erol to be suspicious and is incensed that Christine refuses to mention him at all. He'll give her a little more time. But she'd better speak up soon.

Or Erik will have to speak with this Erol person himself.]

I will admit that your voice has fallen below my standards. But this can be rectified. If you wish it.

[And he knows she does. Christine, you can't escape. He won't let you.]

[chorusangel]

[Christine, under the impression that Erol is still a well-kept secret, will not willingly speak about him if she can avoid it. Unless, that is, Erik gets her drunk or hypnotises her.

She considers the offer of improving her voice to its previous splendour. Of course, 'offer' is the polite way of putting it. Christine is smart enough to know that this is a nicely-worded order. Erik will not allow her to carry on like this.

Strangely, though, she finds herself longing to be able to open her mouth and sing as she used to. And, in some ways, she has missed her lessons from the time when she thought of Erik only as the Angel of Music, as her friend. Things can never be that way again, yet still... Oh, it is foolishness.]

Yes. Yes, I do.

[asoutcastshear]

[Good answer, Christine. Erik doesn't hesitate and brushes a hand along her arm. It's only a matter of time now. She would be his again and it will be as if nothing has changed. He moves behind her, mindful of the tray of food and careful places his hands on her forearms. And when he sings, somehow, it sounds as though his voice is coming from everywhere at once.]

Wandering child, so lost. So helpless. Yearning for my guidance...

[chorusangel]

Angel or father, friend or Phantom... who is it there staring?

[The response comes almost instantly, almost instinctive. Erik sings, Christine responds. It is simply the way of things. She does not even know where the words come from, unless Erik is somehow putting them into her head.]

[asoutcastshear]

Have you forgotten your angel?

[He ensures to stay out of her gaze; he doesn't want her to see how he is smiling. Luring her back into his arms had been a challenge, but this victory here was very very sweet.]

[chorusangel]

Angel, oh speak, what endless longings echo in this whisper?

[She can feel herself falling under the power of his voice, and although it should frighten her, it simply feels so right.]

[asoutcastshear]

Too long you've wandered in winter, far from my fathering gaze.

[His grip on her arms tighten just a little when he hears her sing. It is so close to the Christine he remembers. Just a little more and she would be his again.]