Authoresses Note: Attention to all members of the DBCA. I've been bullied by my muse into writing a cameo chapter some time in the future, (it wont be showing up for a good while, so be patient, please) and it basically involves an attack of any and all members of the DBCA. If you wish to be included, please review and add the following information.
Cloak lining colour, weapon of choice (no Punjab lassos, my apologies) any catch phrases you often use, gender, looks (about 3 words), nationality, place in the DBCA (see above chapter for optional positions) and your personal preference out of the following: Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Buffy, Pirates of the Caribbean, Van Helsing, Batman (I just saw the movie, he has the coolest cape!) and Dracula (Either Dracula 2000 with Gerry, or the Van Helsing Dracula with daddy issues "Gabrielle…Oh Gabriel…").
Review Replies
IflyNAVY: More is here! If your interested, you will most likely have Gandalf the Grey's staff as well as your other deadly instrument of torture, please bear that in mind and tell me if it bothers you terribly
MetalMyersJason: Addicts are bad, and kicking them is hard, as you will soon find out.
Pertie: Always a pleasure when I get such rave reviews
Cap'n Meg: Always a pleasure to hear from you, I don't have that much against Carlotta any more, but she's good to torture (anything to keep me on Erik's good side).
PhanomsAngel102: Morphine? No real reason, but I live in a small town and there are a lot of druggos I know and a real lot of underage smokers and it breaks my heart because some of them are really great guys and gals.
xLetYourDarkerSideGiveInz:
AngelofMusic15:
Kooz:Um, I'm not a Melburnian, I live two hours away, but I was there yesterday! Yes, Adriana is cool. Strange...but cool.
Kudokadvakch: Erik strikes me as a lot of things, I had to give him a slightly longer fuse t deal with Adriana though, until he learns to tolerate her anyway.
Laivine Rose-Head: Thankyou! Update has arrived!
trisana: (sings) and were doing the time warp! (err yeah, grins) I love my double. And no I haven't! Gr, but Im planning a vampire night with red wine, chocolate, icecream and Van Helsing, Dracula 2000 and Underworld, I have a weakness for Vampires, its the fangs, gets me every time. swoon. Authoresses sound so mystical, its fun!
Phantomchild199: Soory (begs forgiveness) it was late(ish) ODn go on AIMsorry, but I am a member of the Phantom's Opera
Madame Opera Ghost: Raoul is an idiot
Masked Grace: Thankyou (acceps kudos, even though I don't know what they are) Raoul, heh, ya gotta hate him, its impossible not to. Grr...lurker(is melted by innocent look) I guess I can forgive you (Erik, I cant)
Disclaimer: Not mine, and I owe a huge apology to one of the masters of the fantastic Stephen Donaldson, whose title of one of his real stories I have borrowed to name this fic (I hadn't realised) My apologies (bows extravagantly).
The next month was hell for Erik. For the first week, his hands shook uncontrollably, and he spent much of his nights in fitful, sweating hypnic sleep. Adriana took over everything, cooking, cleaning, and fixing the lair, although she left his organ alone. And due to her lack of success in cooking meat, a lot of pancakes made their way onto the menu.
All of this passed unnoticed by Erik, who wandered around in a drug-relieved state. Twice, he nearly left the lair to seek out his precious drug, and both times he was stopped.
The first time was by Madame Giry, who stood waiting for him at the
Rue Scribe entrance.
"No, Erik" she said, firmly blocking his
way with her cane, "I will not allow it." Had she been anyone
else, Erik probably would have killed her, But Mme Giry had been his
only friend and confidant, apart from Nadir, in all those years
beneath the Opera house, and he had no intention of harming her. He
had turned away with a sigh, making his way back to the lair in both
relief and disappointment to throw himself into his music.
The second time had been by Adriana herself. Two weeks without morphine had Erik screaming in his sleep and tearing his hair out in agony. He had finally jumped out of his coffin for the fifth time in one night and dressed himself without thought. Black cloak swirling around his shoulders, he swept into the main room with every desire to spend all the francs he owned merely for a single hit of morphine. A single candle greeted him, and the sight of Adriana, nose buried in a book, curled up on one of the recently restored divans. He caught a glimpse of the title, Macbeth.
"A drum, a drum, O.G. doth come" she said quietly, closing the volume, then looking up. "Go back to bed, Erik."
"You were waiting for me," Erik's voice held an accusing note, she shook her blonde head,
"No, I just keep strange hours." (Actually, it had been her DBCA senses tingling that had woken her. Any member can always sense when a black cloak is swirling nearby). She laid her book aside and looked at him expectantly, "If you truly wish it, I will not stop you. But it is your decision to make."
She appeared so calm, so soft, so unmoved, and yet so ready to do battle at the same time. Her position and simple nightgown spoke of a gentle shepherdess, but her grey eyes were colder than ice and steel combined.
"Hard as lightning, soft as candlelight…" the melody slipped from between Erik's lips before he knew what he was singing.
"Dare you trust the music of the night?" she returned slowly. "Do you trust yourself Erik?"
He gave a short barking laugh in reply and gestured to his clothes, "Does this answer your question mademoiselle?"
"Do you trust me?" that question caught him off guard, he paused a moment then spread his hands helplessly, "With the way you have simply barged into my life? It appears, mademoiselle, that I have no choice."
A silent flicker at her lips told him his comment had found its mark. She rose and walked towards him, reaching one hand up to cover his eyes, his long lashes brushed her palm in a soft butterfly kiss as he closed his eyes. She stepped beside him and reached her lips up to his ear, murmuring softly.
"Close your eyes
For your eyes will only tell the truth,
And the truth
Isn't what you want to see.
In the dark
It is easy to pretend
That the truth
Is all it ought to be."
She brushed her lips against his cheek, and with a whisper of linen and bare feet on flagstones, left for her own bed, leaving Erik standing there, lost in a skeltering myriad of memories, feelings and emotions.