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Name: Haley | Gender: mademoiselle | Age: 25 | Posts: 4,279 | Roses: 0
Old 04-12-2011 at 02:09 AM
angelofthenight
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OOC: I'm sick and ache everywhere but I felt compelled to post for you since I told you I would. Sorry if it sucks. BIC:

Alexandra Hunter

Alex had heard all kinds of stories about the underground of the Opera House. Not that she'd been one for myths or fairytales but she did enjoy a good legend here and there. Yes there was a difference. Myths and fairytales were fantastic stories weaved from the minds of people who wanted some attention. Or if you were the author of a story like Cinderella, a person who just wanted to be accepted by those around them. Okay so maybe the judgment was a bit of a generalization but the point was there were distinct differences between the stories that your mommy told you as you fell asleep and the legends that were passed down from generation to generation. With legends there was an attractive force, an appeal that drew people to it despite the tests of time. The cellars below the Opera House was definitely one of those intriguing legends. She'd heard from some of the stagehands (and a few others) that there were ghosts down here. Especially a specific ghost that would cause trouble for anyone who entered his domain. Cue the eerie music. That ghost was none other then the Opera Ghost. When something went wrong on stage that was typically who it was blamed on.

The sheer idea was absurd. Always the curious cat she had to go investigate for herself. She ignored the sign that told her that she was exploring at her own risk and squeezed her way into the underground. She was on her lunch break and rather then go and satiate her nagging appetite she had decided to satisfy her naturally curious nature. She had begged a flashlight from one of the stagehands and grabbed her jacket, not knowing how cold it would be down in the cellars on this brisk April day. She moved down the stairs one at a time, not one to trip as a result of moving to fast. She thought of all the critters that could be roaming around down there. Compared to the splendor of the Opera House above this place looked like death. The stark contrast made Alex shiver and wrap her jacket more tightly around her. She bit the inside of her cheek. A horrible habit that was bad for her and the weak skin that covered the inside of her cheek. She had the unmistakable feeling that she was alone, completely alone and for some reason that wasn't what unsettled her. She had been used to being alone a good portion of her life. What was so unsettling for her was the darkness that surrounded her beyond the security of the flashlight.

The darkness was almost tangible and Alex let out a breath as she moved further into the darkness. Curiosity killed the cat. the all to familiar voice played in her uncle. Often the little voice that her conscious seemed to embody sounded like her former fiance. She had always wondered why but she supposed it was because he had been the voice of reason in her life, the one that had helped her make all the major decisions up until that point. He was still there, in her head, guiding and directing her. She had not mentioned that to her therapist. She would if it started to interfere with her daily life but at this point it seemed to be keeping her company and she closed her eyes, thinking that maybe if she shut them for thirty seconds she would open them and her eyes would be adjusted to the swelling darkness. She reached the edge of the lake that she'd heard so much about. Shining her flashlight into the water she stared at the glassy surface, making out the shadow of her reflection in the dark water. She wondered what it would be like to fall in. To be lost in its murky deaths indefinitely... she wondered if anyone had ever been unfortunate to ever experience such a cold fate.

Alex jumped when the unmistakable sound of shoes hitting the wet pavement could be heard. Her pounded in her chest, beating so hard she was certain that the unexpected visitor could hear from wherever they were. Alex did something extremely stupid at that moment. Something that, had she seen it on a horror movie, she would have yelled at the tv screen for their stupid and naive actions. She yelled into the darkness. "Hello! Is anyone there?" It was a silly questions honestly. Ghosts couldn't talk to her. They didn't even exist. Right? She slowly walked towards the noise. Curiosity killed the cat... killed the cat... killed the cat... the voice in her head mocked her and she pushed it away. She held the flashlight with a shaky hand and called out again. "Hello!" this time her voice sounded weaker, not nearly as sure. Then she heard a voice. "Laissez-moi tranquille!" the voice groaned in the French language that she was still trying to understand. She wished that she would have taken it in high school instead of her stupid, useless Spanish class. She turned a corner shone the flashlight. Nothing. Alex breathed out a sigh of relief and leaned against a column sliding down to the wet floor. As she rested her back against it she felt something brush her hair. She froze and turned slowly, when she saw the white hand she let out a scream, quickly covering her mouth with her hand, her flashlight dropping to the ground, plunging them both into darkness. Part of her hope that in the darkness she wouldn't be seen but she knew it was to late. She had already given herself away.


Like the sound of silence calling I hear your voice and suddenly I'm falling lost in a dream
Like the echoes of our souls are meeting you say those words my heart stops beating
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Name: Cassie | Gender: Señorita | Posts: 4,083 | Roses: 185
Old 06-24-2011 at 01:46 AM
Mrs Nadir Khan
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 Post [82] »


OOC: Rose/Santiago... Finally! XD And I hope it's okay that I placed him outside the dungeons... I just couldn't come up with how to get him in the dungeon part! BIC:


Santiago Ortiz

Santiago was used to being able to escape into the ocean when the day just got too hot. Growing up in Malaga, heat had been as natural in the summer as the tourists laying out in the sun or the fishing boats coming in after sunset. But in Paris, there was no ocean to jump into to cool off. There was a river, but Santiago had too often been chased off by angry fishermen for loitering on the docks. A dip in the Seine would probably get him arrested. He knew there was a lake under the Populaire. It was tempting to disrobe beneath the opera where no one would see him and just swim around for a while. But the water was murky and the caverns dark. Santiago, risk take extraordinaire, would have rather been found with his throat slit in a back alley way than naked, drowned, and floating around on a lake below his place of employment. He kept his clothes on. Besides, the caverns were surprisingly cool compared to outside. A little dew tickled Santiago’s brow, but it was all humidity come to rest and not sweat. It felt good. The best he’d felt in a while.

Santiago sat on a mostly dry rock and slid off his shoes so he could stick his feet in the water. That, at least would be safe. Or, so he figured. But as he stretched on the rock and a distinct “plop” sound echoed in the caverns, Santiago realized he’d maybe been a bit foolish. In the faint light, he could see his left shoe bobbing up and down in the lake. He lay flat on his stomach and reached for it. His arm stretched out after it. His fingertips brushed the now-wet leather. And then the shoe moved closer to the center of the lake. Futilely, he reached again. This time, his muscles went extra taut, as if to ask Santiago just what he thought he was doing.

“Maldigalo!” he growled, sliding further on his belly towards the water. He reached again in vain. So much for a perfect lunch break.
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Name: Kathleen | Gender: female | Age: 22 | Posts: 17 | Roses: 10
Old 07-12-2011 at 07:58 PM
WanderingChild96
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 Post [83] »


OOC: This is my first attempt, but I'll try to get into this. BIC:

Genevieve Lerouge

Genevieve wandered the halls of the Opera Populaire, utterly bored, seeing as that day's rehearsal was over. She pulled her long brown hair out of its bun as she walked, and absentmindedly played with the elastic hair tie. She needed something to do!

Her mind fell on the dungeons that she knew lay beneath the Opera House. She was one of the few chorus girls who hadn't already gone down to explore them. Genevieve, though she would never tell anyone, was afraid of the dark. But still... She could overcome her fear for an hour or so, couldn't she?

Genevieve headed with purpose backstage to get a flashlight from one of the stagehands. You could never be too careful, after all. She then changed into the comfy pair of Nikes that she kept in her bag, and with determination, strode to the doors that led to the underground, hoping and praying to any God that would listen that nothing terrible would happen. Such as: her flashlight dying, the tunnels caving in, or her simply getting lost in the labyrinth.

With a deep breath to steady herself, Genevieve began her trek through the dungeons, aware of every little sound that met her ears and trying to ignore the uneasy feeling she had due to the sign outside that had read: Enter at your own risk, and the stories of the Phantom of the Opera.


Wandering child, so lost, so helpless... Yearning for my guidance."
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Name: Seren | Gender: Nonbinary/androgyne | Age: 28 | Posts: 1,031 | Roses: 10
Old 08-11-2011 at 09:57 PM
xXphantomaddictedXx
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Saphira Anne Kingsley

Saphira was restless. Rehearsals for Carmen had finished for the day, and now she was wondering what on earth to do. Suddenly, her big, blue eyes landed on a door which she knew would lead to the dungeons. After borrowing a lantern from a passing stagehand, Saphira headed down the descending steps and into the darkness.

"It can't hurt to have a little peek," she thought. "Maybe some remnants of the Phantom still exist!"

What she found, however, was rather disappointing. There were bits of bone fragments and such, but most of them were from various rodents.

"Oh, well," Saphira thought. "It was worth a try."

Saphira picked up her lantern and made her way up the stairs. When she tried the door, it was locked!

"That's odd!" she thought.

Sighing, she pounded on the door with all her might, yelling at the top of her lungs for someone to please let her out. Moments passed like hours, but finally someone heard Saphira's pleas for help.

As soon as she was freed, she rushed to her dormitory -- breaking the lantern in the process -- vowing never to go down to the dungeons again.


There are many bodies of water in this world;

Yet none would quench my thirst for you.
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Name: Nancy Lee | Gender: Ninja Squirrel! | Age: 25 | Posts: 1,140 | Roses: 20
Old 08-17-2011 at 02:52 AM
SocialMisfit
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 Post [85] »


OOC: Soooo, Amorette is having a major manic episode, and is a bit... well, a lot bonkers. Approach at your own risk. BIC:

Amorette Cheuvront

Wandering the dark, damp tunnels of the dungeons, Amorette looked a haggard mess, with her white-golden curls a dirty, tangled mess, and her clothes wrinkled in mismatched disarray. She was even paler than she normally was, and her enormous blue-green eyes were wide and glazed over. She almost looked like a female, prettier version of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. She had to stop her roaming every now and then, when a sudden surge of searing pain ripped through the center of her forehead, eventually tripping, and falling when a particularly bad one made her lose her balance. Feeling the cold, damp stone cut into her hands and knees, Amorette lost it and let out a shrill yowl of hysterical laughter. She hadn't been taking her medicine like she should have. That made her laugh harder. She suddenly stopped, and looked around frantically with those glassy eyes, before jabbering nonsensically in a bizarre mix of French and English, to someone named Jacqueline, though there was no one in sight.

"You can't trust her! Elle est un fou!" she hissed, before cackling psychotically once again.


I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky!
I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like!
Awesome Banner-ness made by PJ!
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Name: Kitty | Gender: female | Posts: 9 | Roses: 10
Old 02-05-2018 at 07:26 PM
KittyLydia
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 Post [86] »


Jacob Inkstone

Jacob was not certain whether he held his breath in fear or because the air down there was so rank. It was tepid slime and thick, bitter dust, memories that had gone stale, and they scrabbled at his lungs, twitching his nose to sneeze.

He passed under an archway and dust trickled down his dark ponytail. Each step was followed by the gentle splash of water, droplets shimmering on his mauve wellington boots. The others backstage had teased him about them -- asking him whether he expected the Seine to flood (which they soon stopped saying when it did happen) -- but he shrugged them off. There were only scant chances for him to slope off and explore the bowels of the Opera house, which were as complicated as the internal workings of a person. He would not waste time with changing his shoes.

There were scenes and props abandoned down there. Backdrops of lava vomiting volcanos loomed out, faintly lit by his penlight, and a paper mache skull bobbed in a pool. At least, he hoped it was paper mache. It made him think of his own handmade skulls: a row of grimacing and grinning heads currently drying off on a Grecian pedestal for whatever show was planned.

Jacob did not often pay mind to what was happening upon the stage. The music twisted and jumbled in his head, unable to make sense. Better to think of the peaceful darkness below.

Yet, even here the music crept. Someone was perhaps auditioning, and their high, sweet voice, pretty enough for the chorus, drifted down. As it fell from the surface, it echoed and became watery, whispering and ghost-like.

Perhaps that was all there was to ghosts -- an echo and a memory. He might find nothing here. Jacob was not certain if it should be something to hope for.
It was cold, the chill seeped past his sweatshirt. He tugged the hood up to cover his ears. A gentle mist crawled from his lips, over the small scar on his bottom lip. His pale eyes flicked left and right.

A carving on the wall, near indistinguishable from water (or perhaps scuffed by a furious hand), caught in the light. He took out his camera and took shots of it in about five different angles. That night, in bed, he would go through them, hunting for any sign there might be a notch or dip in the wall to be pressed and reveal more -- hidden alcoves! Passageways! Mysteries answered.

Could it be possible the Phantom's tricks and passageways remained? There had been a rumour someone had discovered a true architect's map, and replicated it in the Opera house's restoration. But rumours could also be lies.

Why did he do this? There was no one he had to share such discoveries, only he would know and keep it jealously to himself.

Deep in every heart was the dark corner: the hunger of curiosity. No matter how dark a passageway, the sharpness of a spiked wall, there was that urge to go further.

Cats lost more than a claw with such urges.

There was a vibration, a footstep perhaps. It could be nothing. Most likely his own imagination.

"Hello . . ?"

Nothing answered back.
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Name: Natalia | Gender: Female | Posts: 2,744 | Roses: 50
Old 02-08-2018 at 05:32 PM
witch
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 Post [87] »


Cara Blaze Andovea

The underground on the Opera House, it had been awhile since she had last been here last let herself remember all the things it had once meant, all the things that she had lost.

As Cara walked slowly around the maze her mind picturing every turn and shadow that her eyes couldn't see she couldn't help recalling the tales of the phantom and how he must have felt alone, losing the people he loved and the rumours of the curse seeming too childish and silly all the way back when but now...

She had grown up within the Opera House, belonged to it as the phantom once had and maybe, maybe that was the problem the curse rubbing off on those who knew the layout between heaven and hell like the back of your hand the cost everything you loved. For no longer did she spend her free time camping out near the underground river with her father, no longer did she hear her voice echo joining her mother in song and no longer did she find shelter in the shadows with her husband instead the empty passageways and trickling water acting like the jumbled dark maze inside.

It was times like this when she was alone and with nothing to really do that her mind went back to those dark places, her kids nor Calvin being there to pull her back from the edge that she lost herself, in herself, in memories in time only her guide dog at her side.

"Right Cody" she voiced softly her voice again echoing as did everything down here sometimes making it seem like ghosts or other beings where lurking around every corner when truth be known half it came from the rooms above but that didn't stop the strange tickling thought in the back of her mind that she wasn't alone, that the footsteps she heard were more local then the floors above and the soft:

"Hello"

Was right in front of her Cody actually having found something this time.

"Is someone down here?" she questioned silence seeming to fall back into place even as her words traveled.


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Name: Kitty | Gender: female | Posts: 9 | Roses: 10
Old 02-11-2018 at 06:32 PM
KittyLydia
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 Post [88] »


Jacob Inkstone

Jacob stiffened. The sounds were not the usual trickle-drip of water or dusty echo. They were vowels, words, a woman's voice. At first, it was a tumbled swirl, a noise strung together like teeth on a necklace, and he had to slowly, carefully, unthread them to loosen it into a sentence.

He wanted to pretend this was a ghost, and that she was speaking to another and would soon disappear. Slowly, he swung the penlight, quickly snapping it out of the way before it could hit her face -- never aim at the eyes, his sister had often shouted at him about that. Long, long ago . . .

It was difficult making the woman out in the darkness. He tried to remember the face, perhaps having seen her dance or walked past her backstage, or had one of his skulls admired (though pretty and like wisps of pastel, the corps de ballet could be ghoulish sprites), but, no, nothing stirred at his memories.

He was taking his time, trying to form the things he was thinking into words. His tongue was heavy, and throat like a knot.

'Don't be afraid,' was the first thing, though that might be strange, might even make her more afraid. He'd fallen through a hidden revolving door once, in a theatre in Britain, straight into a dressing room, and been beaten with pillows and slippers by the shocked dancers. No, definitely not that, it always made him look suspicious.

There was something near her. A dog. Jacob smiled. He loved dogs. Sometimes they loved him back (though often when he had jerky in his pocket, which he didn't have right now). He knelt down and held out his hand.

"H-Hello. Nice to meet you." It felt a little easier saying it to the dog instead; his tongue did not trip so much. "I'm Jacob -- I work backstage."
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Name: Natalia | Gender: Female | Posts: 2,744 | Roses: 50
Old 02-12-2018 at 06:39 PM
witch
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 Post [89] »


Cara Blaze Andovea

There was nothing quite like the Underground of the Opera House, one could lose yourself so easily in the silence the shadows. You could let your mind and spirit run wild conjuring up all kinds of mythical creature for it seemed that if you looked hard enough a ghost may just flit across your path, the boggy man might jump out and claim you or the very gates of hell would open themselves up before you beckoning you in, calling:

'Don't be afraid,'

The very words snapped Cara back to the here and now, though laugher would have fallen from her lips. Nothing scared her anymore not Death for she had already faced and become chess mates with him, nor demon...for how could she fear something that she had so quickly come to love? Nor bloodthirsty stranger intent to kill her. Been there, done that, old news, time to move on. Next.

Still, that didn't still her soul altogether nor Cody's it seemed for no sooner where the stranger's words spoken did he pull forward, his nose twitching, the noise claiming her ear along with shuffling feet.

"H-Hello. Nice to meet you." the voice in the darkness came again though this time lower seeming to match the hight of Cody's panted breath. "I'm Jacob -- I work backstage."

"Cody" She voiced the dog sitting before her his paw placed gently on her foot, a sign from him that he was there. "His name is Cody and I'm Cara. I used to be a dancer and singer here though I'm no stranger to the inner workings behind the curtains."


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Name: Kitty | Gender: female | Posts: 9 | Roses: 10
Old 02-18-2018 at 10:13 PM
KittyLydia
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 Post [90] »


Jacob Inkstone

"I'm," Jacob shut his eyes, thought the words before he spoke them, "I'm newly joined here." That's probably why I've never seen you before, he thought. "The skulls -- that's what I, I make. You might have seen them." Then, he looked closer, finally realised, and said to himself, "Fool." To her, he said, "I'm sorry."

His tongue was tripping. Normally, he kept it tightly coiled, because it wasn't worth it seeing the sneers or confusion on other people's faces.

It was the not so silent dribbling drip echo of the water; he desperately needed to drown it with human noises.

Jacob stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. Why was she down here? He could always ask, but experience told him that most people lied. He would too, if someone asked him.

Although, as he watched her, a part of him wanted to share what he was doing. A kept secret was a lonely secret.

It wasn't as though he was doing anything wrong . . . not much, anyway. If he found a prop that had been abandoned, and he fancied the look of it, he would salvage it. His trunk back in his room was full of glass necklaces and metal roses, angel wings and statuettes, more so than his clothes. There wasn't anything personal to get in the way.

Yet, the longer he hung about, waiting, hoping for her to leave, meant time was being wasted. He would have to return to the surface soon.

Perhaps, if he mentioned what he was doing casually, she wouldn't care, and then no one else would hear about it, and he wouldn't need to worry about snide remarks.

"I . . . I'm just exploring down here, looking for anything of interest." His tooth caught upon his tongue, and he grimaced at the small, sharp taste of blood. "Never know -- the Phantom might leap out!"

And, at that moment, in the maw of the absolute darkness that was behind them, something heavy crashed to the ground.

A body? A piece of scenery? A skull? Or perhaps a cat, fat on shadows and rats, was marking off its territory.

Whatever it was, it did not emerge, only waited to be discovered.
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