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Post by Raoul on Jun 9, 2006 9:12:41 GMT -5
((Note I am assuming this conversation is happening before coffee so am planning to smoothly lead in that one. Its getting quite confusing.))
*Raoul frowned.*
"I would rather not speak of it. It is a memory I would rather forget."
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Post by Rose on Jun 9, 2006 9:19:01 GMT -5
((You're right, it is getting rather confusing! How about we just stop this whole thread... let's make this post the last one, that's fine with me.))
Marianne nodded in understanding, and followed Raoul to the upper levels of the Opera house.
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Post by Nadir on Jul 5, 2006 11:41:25 GMT -5
*Nadir held the lantern aloft as he stumbled through the cobwebby passages below the opera, making his way to the house on the lake.* "Erik?" *he called out, his voice echoing richly.* "Are you there?"
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Post by Raoul on Jul 5, 2006 11:43:43 GMT -5
((Oh man, encourage Gerik why don't you?))
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Post by Erik on Jul 9, 2006 15:45:17 GMT -5
Erik carried the unconcious masked girl down to his home, no need for her to wake up in the stiffling darkness of the damp passage. There was something abut her that made his heart reach out for her, a heart that he usually ignored and didn't think could even feel anymore, but there it was, that feeling of guilt from attacking someone, a girl, who had suffreed the same fate he had. He could hear the Persian caling for him. let him look.... Erik gently laid the girl down on a couch and went to take care of Nadir.
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Post by Raoul on Jul 9, 2006 15:49:06 GMT -5
((Oooo. I'm sure Nadir wants you to take care of him...))
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Post by Erik on Jul 9, 2006 16:00:12 GMT -5
((oh shut up...you slash writer >_<))
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Sophia
- Masterful Virgin -
a mask, my first, unfeeling scrap of clothing
Posts: 47
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Post by Sophia on Jul 9, 2006 22:04:35 GMT -5
Sophia groaned and tried to open her eyes, her vision being stubbournly blurry. When it finally cleared she looked around from where she lay, and not reconising her surroundings, her hands flew to the mask. Feeling the cool leather under her fingertips she sighed. Sophie sat up slowly, noting her lightheadedness. When examined her surroundings better. She was in a simple room, stone walls, but lavishly decorated. She had been laying on a soft couch, the fabric looking oriental and the (stone, she assumed) floor was covered in Persian rugs. on the left and right were heavy oak doors. one was slightly ajar and she could see what looked like a keyboard to an organ or piano, but she couldn't tell which.
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Post by Demiselle on Jul 12, 2006 23:18:04 GMT -5
Demiselle waited patiently until she saw the slim, auburn haired beauty and the Vicomte leave the passage. Then she stalked in and slipped down a small path, leaning against the rocks with a sigh.
Honestly. Why were so many of the women beautiful? The opera house resembled more of the harems she'd seen in Persia than anything like a theater! Shaking her head, she glanced about the path.
It mattered little now, in any case. After several twists and turns, she'd found the way to the Opera Ghost.
Go left, then right, then left again until you come to the dead end. Take a sharp left, and then keep walking until you get to the lake.
Repeating the instructions to herself, she made her way steadily towards the sound that had been calling her; the beautiful, unearthly music that had ordered her from the foyer all the way down here, to the edge of this lake. She hadn't needed instructions; the music had been the instruction, giving it to her in terms as clear as rain. The music told her where to go; she simply followed.
And now, at last, she stood at the water's edge, and in the distance, it seemed to her that she could see a house.
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Post by Erik on Jul 13, 2006 12:17:59 GMT -5
Erik heard the soft footsteps of another person in his passages. Momentarily forgetting his annoyence with Nadir, he went to go see who would have found his home. Taking a new route back he found a blonde woman obviously looking for him.
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Post by Demiselle on Jul 13, 2006 13:11:17 GMT -5
Demiselle glanced up and simply stared for a few moments. This man wore the mask of Death like a shroud. His aura fairly shimmered with murder, and she smiled, pleased.
This one knows the meaning of Death. A willing apprentice, I'd wager.
Bowing deeply, she looked steadily into the Opera Ghost's eyes.
"My sincerest apologies, monsieur, if I have interrupted your day. But...the music showed me the way, and I have a great need to speak with the Opera Ghost. I am assuming that you are he?"
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Syrehn
- In the Duggins -
The Siren
Posts: 79
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Post by Syrehn on Jul 13, 2006 13:47:31 GMT -5
*emerges just slightly from the black lake, only the top of her head and her eyes visible above the waterline, and makes eye contact with Erik, waiting for any clue as to how he might want her to treat this woman*
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Post by Erik on Jul 13, 2006 19:46:13 GMT -5
Erik eyed the woman, his suspicions growing. "And who are you to know the idenity of the Opera Ghost?" he asked.
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Post by Demiselle on Jul 13, 2006 20:50:40 GMT -5
Demiselle studied him quietly. "Your legend is not unknown in certain circles. I come from a people like yourself, and I too, serve a Master that demands utter perfection...in all the arts we create." She sighed and faced him straight on. "I am here on behalf of an ancient lineage...a guild of assassins and mercenaries. Your...fame, shall we say, has reached the innermost ears of my people. I only wish to speak to you." Carefully, she held out a ring. "I offer this as a token of my goodwill."
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Post by Erik on Jul 14, 2006 7:27:22 GMT -5
erik waved her hand away, " I need no token. you have unfortunately caught my interest. Talk while you have time, what do you want?"
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