Title : The Strange Case of Christian and the Duke
Author : peridot mousey
Rating : PG-13 (just because it may be quite dark - for lack of a better term - at some points, and for mild language)
Summary : This is a very different, darker twist on the Moulin Rouge story we all know and love. Christian, long before he ventures to Monmarte, is enthralled by the novella The Strange Case of Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He is quite sure that the ending isn't what would truly happen; it was merely ended like to keep people, like himself, from trying such a thing. Christian, within his ridiculous obsession with love, is quite sure that if he could successfully seperate the natures of good and evil, he would be able to find the fabled "perfect" love. He convinces himself to leave London and venture to Monmarte where the appropriate drugs to re-create Dr.Jeykll's potion are legal and easy to obtain. However, what our tragic Bohemian poet fails to realize is that by administering the horrid drugs, he releases a force too evil to control - the Duke.
Disclaimer : I don't own Moulin Rouge; I'm not nearly as brilliant as Baz. *smiles* Also, I don't own the novella or musical version of Jekyll and Hyde. I'm just borrowing quite a bit from each and twisting them together into one ulimately warped web of love and lust, reality and facades, good and evil.
Notes : As you know, the course of both musicals is quite different, yet quite similiar at the same time. However, to tell my story, I can't abide by the exact plot of either. So, with that in mind, I have to leave out several songs/scenes from each. Please don't flame me for that. This story isn't meant to be overly humerous, so I have to change things. Besides, there's the obvious detail that Christian and the Duke are the same; that alone should account for most of my changes. *smiles* Please review if you enjoy this. I'll continue as long as I have feedback and support.
Chapter 1 : In Persuit of a Dream
"In each of us there are two natures. If this primitive duality of man - good and evil - could be housed in seperate identities, life would be relieved of all that is unbearable. It is the curse of mankind that these polar twins should be constantly struggling," Christian recited to his father with determination flickering in his blue-gray eyes. He had a dream to persue, and he was not going to allow his father - no matter if the intentions were good or evil - stand in his way.
"Is that what you call justification for wasting your life with a Moulin Rouge can-can dancer?" Christian's father spat in a cruel, yet ultimately feeble, tone.
"I will find my perfect love!" Christian exclaimed in a suddenly impassioned tone. "It may be in the arms of a can-can dancer, but I assure you, she will be more wonderful in the world than one of the hypocriticial social butterflies you intend for me to marry!"
"And why is that? Because you believe you can separate good and evil?" his father inquired in mock-seriousness.
"Precisely!" Christian exclaimed, but it was after his father's short fit of laughter that Christian realized his father truly didn't believe in him.
"Christian, my poor, misguided son, you are a writer with dreams that are not meant to come true. You insist on performing a very complex, scientific procedure when you barely managed to pass basic chemistry. To make matters worse, this test you insist on conducting, it not one of reality. It is fiction, Christian, entirely fiction," his father stated.
"Father," Christian retorted, "if it is fiction, the test will be a failure, and I will return home just the way I am. But, if it could be made into a reality, I could finally find my perfect love. Everyone could find perfect love. Love is like oxygen! Love lifts us up where we belong! All you need is love!"
"Always this ridiculous obsession with love," his father growled.
"And what's wrong with that? All my life you've made me believe I was only worth a simple job in the family business with a pretty, little doll for a wife. I want more than that!" Christian yelled, infuriated by his father's incompetence, "I'm going away from here! Away from you! Away from the hypocrites! Away from London!"
Before his father could begin another of his senseless rampages, Christian raced for the open door with his suitcase clutched tightly in his hand. He was finally off to persue his dream. He was determined he would seperate the polar twins and find perfect love with or without the approval of anyone else. It was a quest he had begun alone, but he hoped, in the end, he could share his victory with one other - the source of his perfect love.
~*~
The train station was filled with an eccletic mix of passengers. Some were rich; some were poor. Some were wise; some were foolish. Some were good; some were evil. As they boarded the train, they filled the station and cars with their song.
"There's a face that we wear
In the cold light of day -
It's society's mask,
It's society's way,
And the truth is
That it's all a façade!"
As they walked along past each of the rooms, each one glanced out the windows and continued in their haunting melody.
"There's a face that we hide
Till the nighttime appears,
And what's hiding inside,
Behind all of our fears,
Is our true self,
Locked inside the façade!"
When the train reached its destination, the ladies and gentlemen exited the train. The gentlemen tipped their hats to the ladies who sang in a soft yet nearly frightening tone.
"Every day
People, in their own sweet way,
Like to add a coat of paint,
And be what they ain't!"
The ladies stepped aside and followed the gentlemen who tried to escort their ladies past the 'evil' creatures of the underworld. With their noses turned up - the ladies mirroring the action - the gentleman sang darkly.
"That's how our little game is played.
Livin' out a masquerade,
Actin' a bizarre charade -
While playin' the Saint!"
Underworld creatures certainly held no respect or fear toward the ladies and gentleman of society. They danced and pranced around them with exaggerated expressions painted upon their faces and exotic costumes adorning their bodies. With their sarcastic cruelty, they sang out their reply.
"But there's one thing I know,
And I know it for sure:
This disease that we've got
Has got no ready cure!
And I'm certain
Life is terribly hard -
When your life's a façade!"
As the opposing groups of people strolled through the mazes of Monmarte, it became a complicated illusion. A lady would stroll with a parasol in hand, but when she turned around, a courtesan stood in her place. A gentleman would walk along and tip his hat, but once he turned around to speak, a criminal stood in his shoes. They continued to scramble themselves through the crowd as the song continued to echo through the streets.
"Look around you!
I have found
You cannot tell, by lookin' at the surface,
What is lurkin' there beneath it!
See that face!
Now, I'm prepared to bet you,
What you see's not what you get -
'Cause man's a master of deceit!"
The criminals on the street corners with a knife in their boot and a gun by their waist walked slowly through the crowd, finally separating themselves from the gentlemen. But as they began to sing, each turned around and walked toward a lady with a tipped top hat.
"So, what is this sinister secret?
The lie he will tell you is true? -
It's that each man you meet
In the street
Isn't one man, but two!"
The courtesans in their inappropiate attire and adorned with glitter and jewels sauntered through the crowd, finally separating themselves from the ladies. But as they began to sing, they mirrored the criminals' pattern by turning around and walking toward a gentleman with a parasol in hand.
"Nearly everyone you see -
Like him an' her
An' you, an' me -
Pretends to be a pillar of society -
A model of propriety -
Sobriety an' piety -
Who shudders at the thought
Of notoriety!"
Hand-in-hand, the ladies and gentlemen danced through the streets away from the criminals and courtesans. But in the middle of their singing, the underworld creatures danced toward them again joining the song.
"The ladies and gents 'ere before you -
Which none of 'em ever admits -
May 'ave saintly looks -
But they're sinners an' crooks!"
As the opposing crowds faced each other, they sang spitefully.
"Hypocrites!
Hypocrites!
There are preachers who kill!
There are killers who preach!
There are teachers who lie!
There are liars who teach!
Take yer pick, dear -
'Cause it's all a façade!"
Suddenly the two groups stepped toward each other and again blended into chaos as their song continued to the haunt the busy streets.
"If we're not one, but two,
Are we evil or good?
Do we walk the fine line -
That we'd cross, if we could?
Are we waiting -
To break through the façade?"
Upon the opposite side, the underworld creatures each held a sinister smirk as they glanced over their shoulders and darkly sang to their counterparts.
"One or two
Might look kinda well-to-do -
Hah! They're as bad as me an you,
Right down to their boots!"
Upon the opposite side, the ladies and gentleman each kept their noses in their air as they glanced over their shoulders and spitefully sang to their counterparts.
"I'm inclined to think -
Half mankind
Thinks the other half is blind!
Wouldn't be surprised to find -
They're all in cahoots!"
Each individual began to walk in a separate direction and sang in a tone that held no spite or darkness, only truth.
"At the end of the day,
They don't mean what they say,
They don't say what they mean,
They don't ever come clean -
And the answer -
Is it's all a façade!"
Hand-in-hand, the courtesans danced with the gentleman, and the criminals danced with the ladies as the song hauntingly continued.
"Man is not one, but two.
He is evil and good
An' he walks the fine line
We'd all cross, if we could!"
Finally the group stood together and sang in a truthful tone with hints of spite and bitterness beneath each word.
"It's a nightmare -
We can never discard -
So we stay on our guard -
Though we love the façade -
What's behind the façade?
Look behind the façade!"
~*~
With a box in one hand and his suitcase in the other, Christian stepped into the street long after the song was over. He walked with quick footsteps to the Le' Amoure Hotel where he exchanged his ticket back to London as collateral for a key.
Christian's garret was small, he had to confess, but he decided it would serve its purpose quite well. The simple garret held a small bed, table, and dresser. Beside the door was a decorative fireplace with a mantle that stuck out so far that upon walking in-or-out of the door, Christian would eaisly catch his arm on it. Along the opposite wall was a fairly large window and a so-called balcony.
He sat the box upon the bothersome mantle and as he unpacked, he continued to stare back at it as if to make sure it hadn't gone anywhere. Once his clothes were in the dresser and his typewriter sat contentedly upon the table, he gave yet another glance to the box.
"Finally, I've reached the place where my dream may be persued," Christian thought aloud as he sat down in front of his typewriter. He was determined to write during his experiment, for this way he would be able to compare and contrast his story to Stevenson's inspirational novella. Also, to prove his point that separating good and evil was not a terribly tragic thing, he decided to write about truth, beauty, freedom, and that which he believed in above all things, love - a truly perfect love.
Author : peridot mousey
Rating : PG-13 (just because it may be quite dark - for lack of a better term - at some points, and for mild language)
Summary : This is a very different, darker twist on the Moulin Rouge story we all know and love. Christian, long before he ventures to Monmarte, is enthralled by the novella The Strange Case of Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He is quite sure that the ending isn't what would truly happen; it was merely ended like to keep people, like himself, from trying such a thing. Christian, within his ridiculous obsession with love, is quite sure that if he could successfully seperate the natures of good and evil, he would be able to find the fabled "perfect" love. He convinces himself to leave London and venture to Monmarte where the appropriate drugs to re-create Dr.Jeykll's potion are legal and easy to obtain. However, what our tragic Bohemian poet fails to realize is that by administering the horrid drugs, he releases a force too evil to control - the Duke.
Disclaimer : I don't own Moulin Rouge; I'm not nearly as brilliant as Baz. *smiles* Also, I don't own the novella or musical version of Jekyll and Hyde. I'm just borrowing quite a bit from each and twisting them together into one ulimately warped web of love and lust, reality and facades, good and evil.
Notes : As you know, the course of both musicals is quite different, yet quite similiar at the same time. However, to tell my story, I can't abide by the exact plot of either. So, with that in mind, I have to leave out several songs/scenes from each. Please don't flame me for that. This story isn't meant to be overly humerous, so I have to change things. Besides, there's the obvious detail that Christian and the Duke are the same; that alone should account for most of my changes. *smiles* Please review if you enjoy this. I'll continue as long as I have feedback and support.
Chapter 1 : In Persuit of a Dream
"In each of us there are two natures. If this primitive duality of man - good and evil - could be housed in seperate identities, life would be relieved of all that is unbearable. It is the curse of mankind that these polar twins should be constantly struggling," Christian recited to his father with determination flickering in his blue-gray eyes. He had a dream to persue, and he was not going to allow his father - no matter if the intentions were good or evil - stand in his way.
"Is that what you call justification for wasting your life with a Moulin Rouge can-can dancer?" Christian's father spat in a cruel, yet ultimately feeble, tone.
"I will find my perfect love!" Christian exclaimed in a suddenly impassioned tone. "It may be in the arms of a can-can dancer, but I assure you, she will be more wonderful in the world than one of the hypocriticial social butterflies you intend for me to marry!"
"And why is that? Because you believe you can separate good and evil?" his father inquired in mock-seriousness.
"Precisely!" Christian exclaimed, but it was after his father's short fit of laughter that Christian realized his father truly didn't believe in him.
"Christian, my poor, misguided son, you are a writer with dreams that are not meant to come true. You insist on performing a very complex, scientific procedure when you barely managed to pass basic chemistry. To make matters worse, this test you insist on conducting, it not one of reality. It is fiction, Christian, entirely fiction," his father stated.
"Father," Christian retorted, "if it is fiction, the test will be a failure, and I will return home just the way I am. But, if it could be made into a reality, I could finally find my perfect love. Everyone could find perfect love. Love is like oxygen! Love lifts us up where we belong! All you need is love!"
"Always this ridiculous obsession with love," his father growled.
"And what's wrong with that? All my life you've made me believe I was only worth a simple job in the family business with a pretty, little doll for a wife. I want more than that!" Christian yelled, infuriated by his father's incompetence, "I'm going away from here! Away from you! Away from the hypocrites! Away from London!"
Before his father could begin another of his senseless rampages, Christian raced for the open door with his suitcase clutched tightly in his hand. He was finally off to persue his dream. He was determined he would seperate the polar twins and find perfect love with or without the approval of anyone else. It was a quest he had begun alone, but he hoped, in the end, he could share his victory with one other - the source of his perfect love.
~*~
The train station was filled with an eccletic mix of passengers. Some were rich; some were poor. Some were wise; some were foolish. Some were good; some were evil. As they boarded the train, they filled the station and cars with their song.
"There's a face that we wear
In the cold light of day -
It's society's mask,
It's society's way,
And the truth is
That it's all a façade!"
As they walked along past each of the rooms, each one glanced out the windows and continued in their haunting melody.
"There's a face that we hide
Till the nighttime appears,
And what's hiding inside,
Behind all of our fears,
Is our true self,
Locked inside the façade!"
When the train reached its destination, the ladies and gentlemen exited the train. The gentlemen tipped their hats to the ladies who sang in a soft yet nearly frightening tone.
"Every day
People, in their own sweet way,
Like to add a coat of paint,
And be what they ain't!"
The ladies stepped aside and followed the gentlemen who tried to escort their ladies past the 'evil' creatures of the underworld. With their noses turned up - the ladies mirroring the action - the gentleman sang darkly.
"That's how our little game is played.
Livin' out a masquerade,
Actin' a bizarre charade -
While playin' the Saint!"
Underworld creatures certainly held no respect or fear toward the ladies and gentleman of society. They danced and pranced around them with exaggerated expressions painted upon their faces and exotic costumes adorning their bodies. With their sarcastic cruelty, they sang out their reply.
"But there's one thing I know,
And I know it for sure:
This disease that we've got
Has got no ready cure!
And I'm certain
Life is terribly hard -
When your life's a façade!"
As the opposing groups of people strolled through the mazes of Monmarte, it became a complicated illusion. A lady would stroll with a parasol in hand, but when she turned around, a courtesan stood in her place. A gentleman would walk along and tip his hat, but once he turned around to speak, a criminal stood in his shoes. They continued to scramble themselves through the crowd as the song continued to echo through the streets.
"Look around you!
I have found
You cannot tell, by lookin' at the surface,
What is lurkin' there beneath it!
See that face!
Now, I'm prepared to bet you,
What you see's not what you get -
'Cause man's a master of deceit!"
The criminals on the street corners with a knife in their boot and a gun by their waist walked slowly through the crowd, finally separating themselves from the gentlemen. But as they began to sing, each turned around and walked toward a lady with a tipped top hat.
"So, what is this sinister secret?
The lie he will tell you is true? -
It's that each man you meet
In the street
Isn't one man, but two!"
The courtesans in their inappropiate attire and adorned with glitter and jewels sauntered through the crowd, finally separating themselves from the ladies. But as they began to sing, they mirrored the criminals' pattern by turning around and walking toward a gentleman with a parasol in hand.
"Nearly everyone you see -
Like him an' her
An' you, an' me -
Pretends to be a pillar of society -
A model of propriety -
Sobriety an' piety -
Who shudders at the thought
Of notoriety!"
Hand-in-hand, the ladies and gentlemen danced through the streets away from the criminals and courtesans. But in the middle of their singing, the underworld creatures danced toward them again joining the song.
"The ladies and gents 'ere before you -
Which none of 'em ever admits -
May 'ave saintly looks -
But they're sinners an' crooks!"
As the opposing crowds faced each other, they sang spitefully.
"Hypocrites!
Hypocrites!
There are preachers who kill!
There are killers who preach!
There are teachers who lie!
There are liars who teach!
Take yer pick, dear -
'Cause it's all a façade!"
Suddenly the two groups stepped toward each other and again blended into chaos as their song continued to the haunt the busy streets.
"If we're not one, but two,
Are we evil or good?
Do we walk the fine line -
That we'd cross, if we could?
Are we waiting -
To break through the façade?"
Upon the opposite side, the underworld creatures each held a sinister smirk as they glanced over their shoulders and darkly sang to their counterparts.
"One or two
Might look kinda well-to-do -
Hah! They're as bad as me an you,
Right down to their boots!"
Upon the opposite side, the ladies and gentleman each kept their noses in their air as they glanced over their shoulders and spitefully sang to their counterparts.
"I'm inclined to think -
Half mankind
Thinks the other half is blind!
Wouldn't be surprised to find -
They're all in cahoots!"
Each individual began to walk in a separate direction and sang in a tone that held no spite or darkness, only truth.
"At the end of the day,
They don't mean what they say,
They don't say what they mean,
They don't ever come clean -
And the answer -
Is it's all a façade!"
Hand-in-hand, the courtesans danced with the gentleman, and the criminals danced with the ladies as the song hauntingly continued.
"Man is not one, but two.
He is evil and good
An' he walks the fine line
We'd all cross, if we could!"
Finally the group stood together and sang in a truthful tone with hints of spite and bitterness beneath each word.
"It's a nightmare -
We can never discard -
So we stay on our guard -
Though we love the façade -
What's behind the façade?
Look behind the façade!"
~*~
With a box in one hand and his suitcase in the other, Christian stepped into the street long after the song was over. He walked with quick footsteps to the Le' Amoure Hotel where he exchanged his ticket back to London as collateral for a key.
Christian's garret was small, he had to confess, but he decided it would serve its purpose quite well. The simple garret held a small bed, table, and dresser. Beside the door was a decorative fireplace with a mantle that stuck out so far that upon walking in-or-out of the door, Christian would eaisly catch his arm on it. Along the opposite wall was a fairly large window and a so-called balcony.
He sat the box upon the bothersome mantle and as he unpacked, he continued to stare back at it as if to make sure it hadn't gone anywhere. Once his clothes were in the dresser and his typewriter sat contentedly upon the table, he gave yet another glance to the box.
"Finally, I've reached the place where my dream may be persued," Christian thought aloud as he sat down in front of his typewriter. He was determined to write during his experiment, for this way he would be able to compare and contrast his story to Stevenson's inspirational novella. Also, to prove his point that separating good and evil was not a terribly tragic thing, he decided to write about truth, beauty, freedom, and that which he believed in above all things, love - a truly perfect love.
