Christine has been quiet lately; one can only suppose that she has been spending her time with her husband but where she has been and what she has been doing is hardly the point. The point is that Christine de Changy (nee Daae) is settled in the main room with the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe on her lap and an untouched cup of Russian tea with ( Read more... )

Music can once again be heard throughout the Mansion. If one were to look for its source, they will see it is the usual culprit, seated in her usual spot at the pianoforte. Today Georgiana is playing selections from Mozart's opera Die Zauberflöte, and while she is quite lost in another world at the moment, is free to be bothered by any passers-by.

The last thing the Vicomte remembered was dropping through the trap door behind the set piece. Perhaps he'd hit his head on the way down, for this was certainly not where he meant to be. He kept his pistol high, taking careful steps in order to further explore his whereabouts.

Typist: Raoul, from Gaston Leroux's Phantom of the Opera. Reset and ( Read more... )

She's managed, somehow, to convince Erik to picnic with her. After dark, yes, but is a step. Christine has, from somewhere in her frightened heart, managed to decide that it is in Erik's best interest to learn that here he is not in such company, that here he will not be shunned ( Read more... )

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 ( Read more... )

She's young and pretty enough. Her eyes are bright and her hair falls in blonde curls. Truly? She's nothing out of the ordinary. Until she opens her mouth, in which case there is nothing ordinary about her. However, for now she's quiet, a perplexed look across her features as she moves about the Mansion ( Read more... )

*on this rather uneventful and unremarkable day, the closet door in the mansion opens abruptly, pushed open by a slim and dainty hand, and out of the plothole climbs Christine Daae Le Fantome, leading a mule laden down with crates of tea*

Oh! Oh dear, I - I have found my way back again. I was quite afraid I might never see this place again!
*sits ( Read more... )

*in an upstairs room of the DF mansion (the room she had taken up residence for the last month and a half) lies the body of Christine Formerly-Daae-Now-Le-Fantome-Was-Soon-To-Be-Daae-Again. Strewn about her is her wedding dress, her finished needlepoint, a few sheets of music that belonged to her husband, and a now-empty glass that contained ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( A note addressed to M. le Fantome... )