Why so silent?

[away_from_all]

A tall, impossibly lean man steps into the mansion as silent as a ghost and moving just as fluidly. Long, elegant fingers are encased in black leather, the rest of him clothed in a black evening suit with an opera cape fastened around his skeletal shoulders

Comments

[gavehersoul]

Christine would know him no matter how silent and careful he is. She feels it. She feels him and she stills. Her eyes dart about the room and she holds herself some, lowering her eyes. Her voice lowers. "...Angel?"

[away_from_all]

Of course. Christine of all people would recognize him, his movements and natural grace. Even if she had not seen him.

The man's mind rages against itself, deciding whether or not to remain silent, speak, or lunge at the girl.

In the end, his draw to the girl wins out, though he slips as far back as possible into the shadows.

"Christine..." So many emotions in that one word, laced throughout a voice that could make angels weep at its beauty. Longing and loathing, love and hatred, admiration and envy, bliss and pain... All in one simple little word. The name of one simple little girl.

[gavehersoul]

"You're here." She looks to the shadows, wincing a little at the negative undertones in his voice, and she steps forward, just a bit. She's looking away again, deciding whether or not she should stay. She remains though.

"I doubt that you meant to come..."

[away_from_all]

It would be easier if she had run. No, not run... turned and walked away slowly, perhaps. Running would only cause him to break and hunt her down, like the animal he had become.

He nods from the shadows. "I am. I am everywhere, Christine." Though by now she ought to know better than that.

"You are right." The masked madman admits. "I did not mean to come. I do not know how I came."

[gavehersoul]

He would have followed her regardless, she imagines. He has seen her, and she knows better than to leave when he knows she is here.

"...I suppose you must be. It's not possible, but you must be." Christine tucks a strand of hair behind her ears.

"I can help you find your rooms if you would like. This place is enchanted."

[away_from_all]

Likely. After all that had happened, there was very little chance he wouldn't follow.

How easily influenced the girl still was. Erik (for that was the aparition's name) was honestly surprised. As naive as she had ever been, even after everything. All the better for him.

"I will find them on my own." The shadow snaps instinctively before catching himself and softening his voice. "Thank you, though. It is beautiful enough to be haunted, though enchanted I very much doubt."

[gavehersoul]

She draws back when he snaps and makes a face that is quite frightened and hurt before relaxing her body. "All right. If you insist."

"Oh! But it is enchanted, Erik! The dead walk, and you mustn't eat anything set out or else you will act strangely. People come, with no explanation and they cannot go. It is a magic mansion." And she nods her blonde head eagerly at that.

[away_from_all]

He had not meant to startle or hurt her. The figure had a reputable temper, back at the opera, even if he was known by most as little more than a troublesome (and expesive) spectre.

"Certainly it is." He is obviously humoring the girl, like a parent would humor a child. "I am living proof that the dead walk, Christine. Or have you forgotten so soon? It isn't an enchantment." Oh no. Far from it.

[gavehersoul]

What he had meant does not matter though, what he did does. And he had startled and hurt her when he snapped.

"You don't believe me." She'll sulk a little. "Philippe de Changy was here." She tells him with an even look, as if to prove that the dead really did walk here. "And I have seen magic for myself. Not a week ago this place was but rubble and it has rebuilt itself!"

[away_from_all]

Indeed. The road to Hell was paved on good intentions, after all.

"I do, I do." He promises. "That is extraordinary, isn't it? Well, I shall have to see for myself. The only magic I know if is my own." And he knew for certain his magic was not truly magic at all. Merely an illusion, like everything else

[gavehersoul]

"Good." Christine melts a few degrees and holds herself a little tighter. "It's a very queer place, I have found...You're the first person I recognize here."

[away_from_all]

She has always been putty in his hands. "I thought you had said the Count de Changy had been through?"