All the world's a stage [Open/Active]
Characters: Xerxes Break, Patchouli Knowledge, anyone else?
Setting: The backstage area
Time: Night 11, midish night?
Summary: Break gets a wig and Patchy gets buried in a costume avalanche.
Warnings: The stage is covered in icky things?
A theatre, hmm? Break surveyed the area, stepping gingerly over the mess of organs and limbs that covered the stage. He couldn't imagine what a theatre was doing in a place like this. Perhaps the master of the house was a patron of the arts? The previous master, of course. A gentleman of high society who really loved the arts wouldn't have left his stage such a mess, even if it fit the rest of the house's decor. So either this was some sick mockery of the residents, or the house had changed hands in the past.
He nudged aside a length of intestine to open the door to the backstage area. He didn't have much experience with theatres himself, but it was common sense that they would keep the props and costumes back here if the theatre had ever been in active use. If it had, then perhaps he could find a wig and do away with this idiotic bandage over his empty eye socket... he'd forgotten what a hassle it was to have bandages there. They were always coming loose and falling off, and he had to re-do them every time he washed his face. Not to mention it took precious gauze that ought to be covering the surgical incision on his head. The wound was starting to itch horribly and having bandages there helped him resist the temptation to scratch it. But if he took the bandages off his eye, he'd have to walk around all the time with one eye closed... quite a dilemma, really.
The cabinets at the back caught his eye. They looked more like props than like real wardrobes to him, but he supposed one couldn't be choosy. This was a theatre, not the master's bedroom. The backstage area needed to be functional, not elegant. Also notable was the girl among the cabinets- she had purple hair, which was unusual at best, and appeared to be in a nightgown. Break raised his eyebrows- he supposed it was technically nighttime, but still... he approached the cabinets quietly, not bothering to announce his presence until he was nearly beside her.
"Good evening, little girl!"
Setting: The backstage area
Time: Night 11, midish night?
Summary: Break gets a wig and Patchy gets buried in a costume avalanche.
Warnings: The stage is covered in icky things?
A theatre, hmm? Break surveyed the area, stepping gingerly over the mess of organs and limbs that covered the stage. He couldn't imagine what a theatre was doing in a place like this. Perhaps the master of the house was a patron of the arts? The previous master, of course. A gentleman of high society who really loved the arts wouldn't have left his stage such a mess, even if it fit the rest of the house's decor. So either this was some sick mockery of the residents, or the house had changed hands in the past.
He nudged aside a length of intestine to open the door to the backstage area. He didn't have much experience with theatres himself, but it was common sense that they would keep the props and costumes back here if the theatre had ever been in active use. If it had, then perhaps he could find a wig and do away with this idiotic bandage over his empty eye socket... he'd forgotten what a hassle it was to have bandages there. They were always coming loose and falling off, and he had to re-do them every time he washed his face. Not to mention it took precious gauze that ought to be covering the surgical incision on his head. The wound was starting to itch horribly and having bandages there helped him resist the temptation to scratch it. But if he took the bandages off his eye, he'd have to walk around all the time with one eye closed... quite a dilemma, really.
The cabinets at the back caught his eye. They looked more like props than like real wardrobes to him, but he supposed one couldn't be choosy. This was a theatre, not the master's bedroom. The backstage area needed to be functional, not elegant. Also notable was the girl among the cabinets- she had purple hair, which was unusual at best, and appeared to be in a nightgown. Break raised his eyebrows- he supposed it was technically nighttime, but still... he approached the cabinets quietly, not bothering to announce his presence until he was nearly beside her.
"Good evening, little girl!"