Three Month's Pause
Chapter One: Intro of a Sort
A/N: My sister (Alda Rethe) and I like to roleplay, so we often do so over email. This is our Phantom of the Opera Roleplay. 'Tis a mixture of the Andrew Loyd Webber movie(mainly), but alsothe Gaston Leroux book and Susan Kay's book. It takes place during the three month period, where Phantom is supposedly dormant. "Three months of Ellysian peace!" As one of the managers said.
Disclaimer: My lovely sis and I own nothing you read. The plot is barely even ours. Based soley on the plot of ALW movie and the characters of the book.
Um, the rating of 'T' is as a slight precaution, seeing as there is some violence and tense moments in the coming chapters.
"Dear Most Respected O.G.,
As a manager of your enchanting opera
I feel that I speak for all
When I say that these notes are as annoying
as the deity Hera snoring.
We'd appreciate it if you cease your calls.
A good evening to you sir,
Andre"
Folding and sealing his letter in a tan envelope, Andre stuck it in his sleeve and glanced around Opera Popularie. He did not know where to place it (how would the ghost find it?), so decidedly took it out of his sleeve and, with an eye-catching flourish, um, placed it on a staircase.
2 Days Later
On her way to the ballet rehearsal something caught Madam Giry's attention. An envelope made of rough parchment and sealed with a crimson skull was placed boldly on the bottom of the grand stairwell.
Madame G muttered, "Oh, mon dieu," her forehead creased as she frowned. She bent to pick the letter up and hurried off to find one of the moron managers.
"My Dear Managers,
I fear your last letter's message was lost on me.
So, excuse me when I remind you
That my salary is well past due.
I believe this was a slip of the tongue on your part.
But, if you are not using the young Ms. Daae,
I should like to borrow her voice for a while.
Your most dutiful servant,
O.G."
Monsieur Firmin made an odd noise, blowing air out between his gritted teeth, resulting in a sound much like a horse. "The utter gall!" He bellowed, throwing the letter on the marble floor.
"I recall this has happened before, Monsieur..." Ms. Giry prompted.
"Indeed it has. And none too well was the result," growled said manager, chewing his lip and thinking.
Monsieur Andre found his way to the two worried figures. "What is the matter this tim--? Ah." Upon spotting the foreboding skull seal his question disappeared and a new one took form. "What does the monster want now?"
"That beast wants his 20,000 francs," M. Firmin, said, putting a sarcastic emphasis on 'his.' "And apparently he's rather fond of Ms. Daae, because he wants to 'borrow her voice.'" Firmin's face grew sour, as he addressed his next question to them both. "Whatever in God's name does that mean?"
Nearby….
Blissfully ignorant somewhat to the absences of the ballet teacher and the two managers, Christine continued her stretches and warm up exercises for ballet with Meg. She attempted to keep her "Angel of Music" out of her lurking thoughts.
Even if Christine didn't notice that the ballet students weren't being supervised, Meg did. She furtively glanced around the practice stage, making sure that no one was watching them.
Her petite pale face broke into a smile as she grabbed her friend's hand. "Come, Christine. Let us take a break. We've practiced enough and I want to talk with you."
Despite the young Meg's belief that no one was watching the ballerinas practice, there was a single shadowy spectator. He silently studied the two young girls as they exited, and waited a moment before following them.
Meanwhile…"Well," Meg began in her small, quiet voice. "You seem so frightened, Christine, ever since the performance of Il Muto. What's happened? The police are positive that Buquet's death was a suicide and I'm sure Carlotta will be fine, if that's what you're worried about." Meg paused as a troupe of young ballet rats giggled past, all dressed in their tutus, ribbons and slippers, even though they were only to practice.
She continued in a concerned voice. "Vicomte de Changy has spoken with me and he's worried about you, too."
At the mention of the young sailor's name, a quiet, disapproving hiss seemed to come from the depths of the shadows.
Sensing, more so than hearing, a faint sound of displeasure, Christine froze. Was that him? Could it truly be? No, she assured herself in seconds, he'd be too preoccupied in his lair to torture me today.
Putting on a brave face for her dear friend, Christine smiled. It looked slightly painful combined with her frightful pallor and tired red eyes. "Oh, I'm fine, Meg. You and the Vicomte have nothing to worry about. I'm just a little weary. But we'd better hurry back to practice before someone comes looking for us. We don't want to anger your mother now, do we?"
She took a step towards where the stage was, following the direction that the ballet rats had gone not a moment before.
A/N: It's a really short chapter, we know. Sorry about that.
They will get longer as the story progresses.
Erm, this first chapter might not make complete sense, so forgive us for this. Please review! Questions (if any) will be answered, compliments are welcomed, and critisism is embraced.