IT'S CURTAINS TEST DRIVE

[stagemanagers]

1) CURTAINS UP
You’ve just woken up in a small dressing room, which is certainly not where you went to bed last night. Actually, do you even remember going to sleep…? Regardless, this isn't where you last were, and if you leave your room you’re going to find a lot of other people in the same state.

Go out and socialize! Most of these people may be strangers, but you’re gonna all have to get used to one another. And who knows? There may actually be a familiar face in the crowd.

2) THIS PETTY PACE
By now, you're acquainted with everybody here and you're sloooowlllyyyy growing bored. Bored enough to kill? Hopefully not. You'd better try to find something else to do. You can always go hang out with your castmates, or maybe try and whip something up in the kitchen! There’s also a music room to keep you busy! I sure hope you like music.

3) BREAK A LEG
Comedies are fun and all, but that’s not quite what we’re about here. You’ve all just been handed this week’s motive. What do you make of it? Is it one that might actually tempt you to kill, or did you get off lightly this time? Either way, maybe you’d better look around the room and see who else is having a rough time.

4) CURTAIN
It was bound to happen eventually. Someone is dead, and now it's time to go off and investigate. Were they close to you? Are you, perhaps, feeling guilty? Either way, it's probably best not to leave anyone alone right now.

5) CUE MUSIC
Feelings in a murder-opera can get pretty gosh darn intense. Sometimes you’ve just got to let it out. And hey, if you sing a song about whatever’s going on in your head, maybe someone will hear and come help you? Either way, this is a musical – there’s not really any reason not to sing.

[Mod Note: The song mechanic is meant to be fluid and simple. You do not have to produce your own song lyrics, nor are you required to use show tunes (although we do encourage it!). If you want to rewrite existing lyrics to fit the situation, go for it! Anything goes - if Mumford and Sons expresses your character’s current emotions, then break out the banjos. We want to keep the musical mechanic as fun and simple as we can to encourage our players to use it as much as they like.]

6) WILDCARD
Make up your own prompt!

Comments

Jiminy Cricket | Disney's Pinocchio

[whistlenotchirp]

1 | Curtains Up

"Well this is a pickle..." Jiminy Cricket had only been in a dressing room twice few times. Once when he fell for some actress and followed her backstage (in his defense, he was young and stupid) and later, with Pinocchio. He had vowed to avoid the acting business after that mess and he certainly didn't plan on waking up in one.

Before long, he was walking through the halls, trying to get his bearings. This couldn't be one of Stromboli's tricks, right? No, Stromboli couldn't care less now than Pinnoc was human. The Coachman maybe? Yeah, this seemed like a Coachman thing.

"Pinoc?!" Where was that kid? "Pinocchio, where are you?"

2 | This Petty Pace

Jiminy Cricket is a professional. He's an experienced cricket who's lived off the road. He has no trouble getting food for himself.

And he's definitely not having an increasingly annoying amount of trouble trying to get to one of the food cabinets. He's a high jumper and can easily reach the handle, but he doesn't have the strength to pull it open. And he keeps falling off. But he can totally handle this.

5 | Cue Music

He's trying to be calm, he really is. He has to be the moral center. The conscience. Its what he was meant to do. But even he finds himself trying to find a private corner to talk himself down.

"Just get it together. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it." It'd be so easy to just... give in. Give a try. Who would suspect him?

He smacks himself in the face. No.

"Stop, look, and listen... and always use your head.
Look at all these people... Do you really want them dead?
First you stop, then you look, and then you listen hard.
You can't give into your fears, so just don't drop your guard..."

Curtains Up

[dechagny]

[Okay, so he's a bit calmer than he was when he burst into this place yelling for Christine, but Raoul is still relatively nervous. How can he know that this isn't some plot by the Phantom to confuse him? Or if there was some noxious gas wafting through the catacombs underneath the opera house that were making him hallucinate a whole other building and an entirely new group of people, to make up for the lack of oxygen in his lungs?

It certainly seems like that's a possibility when a dressed, talking cricket walks past. Raoul's not even sure he's seeing things correctly. He makes a strangled noise of alarm and stumbles back as the creature crosses his path.]

What the devil-?!

this petty pace

[dieformymusic]

[Okay Winslow may have a problem with a talking cricket since...unnatural (look who's talking). But as he's skulking towards the kitchen he can't ignore the cricket falling over and over.]

...do you want someone to do it for you?

[He's not gonna jump in just yet cause well. His everything.]

1

[littlegirl_littlecurl]

Darla has recently begun walking the halls herself. Still no sign of any of her things or of Max.
But she does spy a tiny creatire from the corner of her eye. Spinning about, she plasters on a big smile and waves as she skips over.
"Yoo-hoo~! 'Scuse me Mister..."

Wait what is this guy, he doesnt look much like any animals she knows of...

2

[breakingbread]

Good morning, Monsieur Cricket. Do you need help?

[The talking cricket was strange at first, but this whole thing is strange. May as well get used to it.]

[dechagny]

[Curtains Up]

[This is not the Opéra Populaire. It takes a few moments for Raoul to realize this, his mind hazy and his chest still burning, his neck still aching from the Punjab lasso - but once he does, he's up on his feet, half stumbling and half barging through his dressing room door. He grips the doorknob like it's the only thing keeping him upright, and looks wildly around.]

Chris - [His voice is hoarse, and he lets out a rattling cough, ducking his head out of polite habit. Let's try that again.] Christine!!

[This Petty Pace]

[Being a rich, pampered young man from the 1880's, it's safe to say that Raoul has not ever had to cook for himself beyond pouring something to drink. If you come into the kitchen, you'll briefly see him staring down the microwave before turning to look at you and quickly walking over.]

Excuse me. Would you happen to know how to operate the...metal box? [He promptly holds up a Hot Pocket, still in its wrapper.] I've been told this is food that can be cooked quickly, and I would like to eat it.

[Break A Leg]

[Okay what fresh hell is this. Raoul watches the video playing, an eyebrow raised, scoffing and gesturing in confusion.]

What is this - foolish thing? This would never happen. Nothing happening in these images could ever exist!

[He laughs, thinly and lightly. It's not clear if he really thinks the video is stupid or that he's trying very hard to convince himself it's fraud. Someone's gotta give him a good nudge back into reality.]

[Curtain]

[The victim wasn't someone Raoul particularly cared for, at least privately. You don't make that sort of thing public in tense situations, lest you want to be accused of murder - and let it be said that a Viscount did not stoop to such a low as to stab a person in the back in the dark. He was no Phantom with schemes and machinations, he had honor! Common decency!

He knew, however, that the victim had friends in their number. Friends who would be upset. If you knew this victim, there's a knock on your door. Will you answer?]

[Cue Music]

Give up on Christine...?

[Uh-oh. Hear that music swelling in the background, buddy? It means that you just suggested something to Raoul that has given him Feels to Sing About.]

Why, I could never! Not for all the time on earth - I would do absolutely anything for her! All she'd ask of me is to love her, but I'd scale mountains and topple tyrants! I...I would...

[He bows his head, and...]

Love of mine,
Someday she will die,
But I'll be close behind,
I'll follow her into the dark...

[Oh boy. Someone calm him down please - or sing along, if you know how that kind of love feels.]

curtains up

[littleingenue]

[Waking in a dressing room that wasn't hers... Christine wishes she could say that's the strangest occurrence she's been through, though that isn't the case by any means. Still, it's enough to shock and give her pause as she gathers her bearings.

She hears his voice, muffled through the walls, and pushes herself up and through the door to try and find him.]

Raoul?!

[As soon as she catches sight of him, she lifts the heavy skirts of her gown and rushes his way, all but throwing herself into his arms.]

Break a leg

[swearonallmyspores]

[How about a gentle nudge of a vine? Does that do you, Raoul? Towey leans in as close at it can, peering at the screen. How does it even see without eyes?

It makes a soft, sad, tsking sound.]

Looks to me like the dying doll has got a real thing for the guy in the mask.

Mal | Descendants

[callmeaschemer]

1) CURTAINS UP
[Mal groans a little, putting her hand to her head as if it would stop the feeling of pain stabbing through it. That had been a rough night of sleep, mostly because she got very little sleep. Blinking, she slowly looks around herself to see... not the disgusting pinks of her dorm room. She stand quickly, looking around warily.]

This is not Auradon

[She sees the door, and immediately heads for it, wrenching it open and looking out. She doesn't see anything familiar and steps outside. It isn't the Isle either, and she's sort of grateful for that. Mal's not sure how the Isle would be.]

So if it's not the Isle, and it's not sparkly Auradon, where the hell am I?


4) CURTAIN
[Someone's dead and people here actually seem to care about it. It's weirdly jarring. Back on the Isle... Well, it wasn't uncommon to see Hades hanging around. Mal just sits, staring around at how people are reacting. She's too used to people dying. So just sitting and staring is very much the normal reaction.]

[She wonders what happened though, to cause the death. That would be interesting to know]


5) CUE MUSIC
Can anybody hear me...

[Okay. What?]

Don't know what's going on...

[Mal looks incredibly confused, looking around herself to see who or what is causing this and how she can stop it all from happening. It wasn't that bursting into song wasn't an unusual thing - in Auradon they did it at the drop of a hat, and it happened occasionally on the Isle just to break from the dullness - but it wasn't exactly something she wanted happening, if that made sense]

Opened my mouth and it burst into song...


6)WILDCARD
[BRING YOUR OWN ADVENTURE!]

Curtain

[dechagny]

[Good God. Raoul's seen two dead bodies in his entire life, and now there's another one that's popped up. Granted, this one hasn't been hanged, but even death reminds him of Buquet and Piangi's corpses dangling before a sea of horrified opera-goers, of danger, of whispers in the night. So when he notices Mal just sitting there, looking around, he completely misinterprets her confusion for shock. He can't blame her for it, either - who wouldn't be shocked, especially a lady?

He comes to stand beside her, at a considerable distance.] Miss. If you are feeling faint, perhaps you might be better retiring to your room for now.

Shilo Wallace | Repo! the Genetic Opera

[wanttogooutside]

1 - Curtain's Up
[Shilo looks around, panicked and worried. This isn't home. She's not at home and her Dad isn't here and she doesn't know where she is. She grasps at her wrist, feeling her watch there and running her fingers along it for comfort. Slowly, she opens the door and looks out. A wave of fresh air hits her and she's almost overcome by it. Her eyes widen and she looks around. A single thought comes to her mind: she's outside]

Where is this...?


2 - This Petty Place
[Shilo's never really had to cook for herself before, so she stands in the kitchen with a rather blank looks on her face. Her Dad had always taken care of everything, and even on the rare times he let her come out of her room to eat, the meals were always already for her to have and then return to her room. She looks around]

Um... do you know how to work... anything here?


5 - Cue Music
[Singing to herself was nothing new, she did it a lot in her room. Practicing Mag's songs into her mirror and dreaming stupid dreams about maybe one day getting up there to sing herself. She knew it could never happen but her dreams were all she had]

Now I am ... outside.
Not sure what to do ... outside.
Wondering if I should have stayed... inside.

[Having one of them come true wasn't as great as it seemed]


6 - Wildcard
[Bring Your Own Adventure]

Cue Music

[dechagny]

[A child in the middle of this mess. A child. It is absolutely deplorable, in Raoul's opinion, to throw a child (though she may be 17) into the middle of this. And when she sings...well, it's beautiful and small and a bit haunting in its words. If this was outside, then what was inside to her? He wants to ask...]

What would you do...outside
If this, to you, is outside
And not inside, which is inside to me

Inside of what I cannot say
But outside, where night and day
Can be seen is outside to me

Max Bialystock | The Producers

[alongcamebialy]

[curtains up]

[This isn't his bed, it's too comfortable for that. After a few seconds, he realizes it isn't Hold-Me-Touch-Me's, Kiss-Me-Feel-Me's, Lick-Me-Bite-Me's, Yank-Me-Spank-Me's, and most certainly isn't Suck-Me-Fu...well, it isn't any of their beds.

That leaves one option, and thus, Bialystock can be seen roaming the halls with some sort of makeshift weapon. Not really so much of a weapon as he is holding the hat-rack from his room like a moron.]

Oh, Franzzzyyyy, oh Mr. Liepkindddd~! I know you're mad at Maxy Waxy about your play-e way-e, but you can't just kidnappp a famous produceeeerrr~

[the petty pace]

[Max Bialystock is a man of wealth and taste, who eats the finest foods and bangs only the richest senile old women. So when he comes down to the kitchen in his regal red bathrobe and starts going through the cabinets, he's pretty disappointed in the selection.]

Canned foods, let's see what we've got here! Mm. Oysters. Oil. [immediately groaning] Oy vey.

[cue music]

[So, all the murders might be getting to Max juuuusssttt a little bit. and a tune starts

Just watch them plot their schemes and plan for the slaughter,
I know exactly what I'll have to do,
It's undeniable, these guys are liable
And if I don't do something than I'll be the one who is dead...

The Petty Pace

[dechagny]

[Dude. DUDE. Fucking same. What even is half this garbage, are they really expected to eat this? Raoul looks over from where he's rummaging around in the freezer, which is admittedly a wondrous device, but how even do you boil water? Raoul doesn't know.]

Those are by far the saddest looking oysters I have ever laid eyes on. [He shakes his head and goes back to digging, wrinkling his nose as he pulls out a box of fried clam strips.] Eugh. Is this really what passes for seafood here?

Elphaba Thropp | Wicked (Act 2)

[wickedestwitch]

1

While she doesn't have her broom in hand, Elphaba does have her hat in place and is knocking on ever closed door.

"Fiyero? Fiyero are you in there?" She shouts, there's a rising fear in her chest the longer she searches.

2

This definitely isn't Oz anymore.

"So... who wants to try to break down a wall to get out of here?" She suggests.

She might be able to get something going, if nobody's going to flip out about a try at magic.

[callmeaschemer]

"Now, that's one of the best ideas I've heard," Mal steps forward, a small smirk on her face. "What do you suggest, Green Girl?"

Audrey II | Little Shop of Horrors (movie- bad end)

[swearonallmyspores]

[1. This Pretty Place]

[Perhaps you've noticed the strange and interesting plant, just sitting in the corner of the kitchen. It looks like a very, very large flytrap. The kind that would probably eat those man-sized bugs that are properly out there somewhere, right? Right?

Perhaps you haven't noticed the plant at all, but the plant has certainly noticed you. It waits until you're alone in the kitchen with it, before it suddenly opens its trap and-]

Well, well, well. Alone at last.

[3. Break a leg]

[Twoey has watched the goings on with some interest. Whatever the motivation is, it largely doesn't bother the plant at all. It has bigger plans. Bigger fish to fry. But Towey is nothing if not a schemer. It knows how to take advantage of people on the edge. And right now? People are on the edge.

It drapes a comforting vine around your shoulders, tone dulcet and gentle. Promising. Soothing. The plant is your friend. ]

I got a way to make all of this go away. Make you get out of this sittin' real pretty like.

[5. Cue music]

[Perhaps you have been made aware of Twoey's...particular dietary needs. Perhaps this is the first time you've been seduced into murder by a talking plant. Either way, It's singing at you now.]

Come on, Sweet Thing,
Just one quick jab and you'll rule this ring
Ain't no body, don't need no alibi
They got no motive they need to imply
Just off the guy and give me some grub
And you'll be skipping right out of this club

[6. Wildcard]

[Go nuts! ]

5

[solomonjihad]

...

[Its...tempting? The Presence certainly likes the idea, at least, of offing. If not feeding this clearly hungry plant. Odd. Didn't Lilith call the Presence an ally of monsters?]

Well, she said humans were on par
to a plate of raw and bloodied tartare
But...couldn't you do it, just as well?
No alibi, you said - and I've no reason to tell.

Christine Daaé | Phantom of the Opera

[littleingenue]

[ Curtains Up ]

[It may not be the first time Christine has awakened in a place that was not her room nor dressing room- which was an odd sort of expectation for one to hold anymore. Regardless, those times that she did wake up somewhere different than expected, it had been at her Angel- the Phantom's- whim and not her own.

And with that in mind, the young ingenue took a closer look around the room, her brow furrowed as panic set in.]

Raoul? [Called out tentatively, softly as she finally left the room. The last she remembered was him saving her from the Phantom's thrall at her father's grave...] Meg? [Should she go down a list now? But surely if Raoul and Meg weren't around, any of the girls from the ballet, the managers or even La Carlotta herself wouldn't be around... Was she truly going mad?]

[ Curtain ]

[Shock was perhaps what kept her standing upright for the moment. She had seen far too many dead bodies lately, and although the Phantom had yet to show his face (peculiar, given his obsession with her and threat to never leave her alone), it seemed all too familiar a situation. White faced and frantic, Christine observed the rafters and the shadows for any signs of him, or the culprit in general.

She wanted to run as far as possible, but her feet felt of lead and instead, she dropped to her knees, skirts surrounding her, and buried her face in her hands as she attempted to calm herself out of the panic she felt.]

[ This Petty Pace ]

[The monotony of day to day could be boring to many, but to Christine it felt more welcome than not. She can often be found in the music room, practicing her scales. If one pays close enough attention, they'll take note that she pauses infrequently for varying intervals, listening at points... scanning the room.... and starting up again, as though nothing's wrong.

Other times, she can be found en pointe, practicing various sets of classical ballet styles. She is more than open to conversation, smiling at anyone who she catches coming across her.]

Curtain

[solomonjihad]

[....Oh no, the...really nice singing human is...crying? Yes. Crying. Good. Let her cry over her pathetic, fallen human comrade. Astarte tries to ignore the Presence as she shuffles towards Christine. Ok, so...how does a human comfort another human?

...

She...awkwardly pats Christine's head as she looks at the body. Oh, wait, no, her shoulder makes more sense.]

There, there.

[Pretty sure that's how it works.]

Its ok.

[Right? Is Christine comforted yet?]

Winslow Leach | Phantom of the Paradise

[dieformymusic]

[Curtains Up]

[What day was it?

Winslow remembers working on his Cantata for Swan...working tirelessly and long for the producer in that walled-off studio in the Paradise. He doesn't know what happened, he dozed off and now...it' gone.

His music, the studio, it's all gone. All that remains is this...this place. The burning gears in his mind began to work, crackling and fuming. Swan. It had to be him. He rushes, looking like a flowing black cape and spaceship.]

Swan...Swan...SWAN!

[This Petty Place]

[It wasn't the Paradise...nor was it anyplace that looked like Swan's Death Records studios. It felt so strange...it was a prison, but he had been in one prison or another, hadn't he? There were others trapped with him this time. Misery in company, after all.

But he kept himself at a distance. After all...his face was hidden under this mask. His voice...it was gone, all he had was but this box to speak with. To the outside world Winslow Leach was dead. He may as well be a ghost here as well.

Winslow has a talent for hiding. He likes to hid in the main rooms, looking for a way to escape, watching the others occasionally. But hey, sometimes others may see him.]

[Break a Leg]

[Who doesn't love music? Winslow gets his own special record, courtesy of everyone's favorite nostalgia band The Beach Bums. The song pours out. Already his eye twitches.]

That music...that music....

[His breathing gets uneven. That damned bastardized version of his song...that Swan STOLE. He can see the producer's sick grin his head.]

That's my music.

[No more. Winslow lets out a blood-curdling electronic scream. That's it, he needs to destroy the music right now.]

Where is it?!

[Cue Music]

[In the end, all Winslow knows and has is music. And when his life reaches a low, it's what he ultimately turns to. He knows this situation is dire, but all he has is his own bitterness to vent.]

Save some face
You know you only got one
Change your ways
While you're young

[Wildcard]

Curtains

[solomonjihad]

[Woah woah woah...that is one very imposing monster.

Astarte blinks, before she steps forward, asking the very obvious and pertinent question when one starts screaming about SWAN.]

Where?

[She tries to peer into his room. Is there...is there a swan in there...]

Sibella Hallward | A Gentleman's Guide

[shadeofsadness]

[ Curtains Up ]

[Finding herself in a dressing room was peculiar at best. She wasn't made for the show business, just to be entertained by it. Still, Sibella found herself curious of what was available to her- and became momentarily distracted by her reflection in the mirror. Good God, was that how she looked?

With a wrinkle of her nose, she closed the distance between herself and the mirror and leaned in closer.] Ugh.

[Reaching for a brush, she smoothed her carefully coiffed hair to perfection, and set it down just after. Minor issues with her makeup were quickly fixed, her corset properly tightened to give the proper amount of... fluff... and she was turning from her spot to peer outside the door.]

Monty, darling? [Cooed in a sing song voice as she glanced down the hallways.] Phoebe?

[ This Petty Pace ]

[Sibella made her way to the wine as soon as she found her way to the kitchen- she could not bear the thought of stomaching food just yet, but when she found herself hungry, she would do best by fluttering her eyelashes at anyone who looked like they knew what they were doing.

Until then, this beautiful red wine looked like it would do, and because she didn't want to be caught drinking alone, she pulled two glasses. If you come across her, she smirk and coyly glance your way.] Would you care to join me?

[ curtain ]

[Sibella wasn't a woman that scared easily- though one would argue that a dead body was plenty scary. She stared at the poor soul, with a look easily confused for shock as one eyebrow raised and she pressed her fingertips to the stomach of her corset.]

That poor fellow. [She may comment breathlessly if someone approaches the scene, tearing her gaze away from the body in a practiced motion. Though morbid curiosity may get the better of her, it is still a dead body- and appropriately grotesque as one might expect of the recently deceased.]

Petty Pace

[wanttogooutside]

[Shilo looks over, curious and cautious]

Is... is that alcohol?

Henry Jekyll | Jekyll & Hyde

[lostinthedarkness]

one. curtains up

[This feeling... it's not unfamiliar to Henry. At first it's easily mistaken for the results of another long night of failed experiments that ended with him drifting in and out of a short, restless sleep. It takes a moment for the reality of his situation to sink in; although it doesn't take long for panic to take root.

This was bad.

But he absolutely could not let those negative feelings take hold. With slow, deep breaths, he worked hard to regain his composure. He needed to analyze his situation, not unlike he would his work. He needed to be calm. In control. He couldn't be allowed to slip free. The sooner he had his answers... arrived at a solution... returned to the safety of his lab... the better. Straightening up his hair and his clothing, he departed the dressing room, looking for someone who could tell him how he might have ended up here-- and more importantly how he might return to a place of familiarity.]

...excuse me. [Although he was an odd one, he was still a man of high society. Even in this situation, there was an air of dignity about him.] I'm afraid I've made some mistake-- can you tell me the name of this establishment?

four. curtain

[They said it was inevitable but to be faced with the reality was another matter entirely. Just to see it, it had been a crime of passion. Or perhaps it was simply the result of a struggle. Nonetheless there it was. The body. Just like the scene itself, it would require thorough examination.]

Perhaps I can be of some assistance-- I am a doctor, after all.

[Autopsy was by no means a focus of his, but he should be able to shed some light on the incident with the knowledge he did have.]

five. cue music

[Too much, the events of their situation hinge upon the same questions that torment his soul. When he lets himself drown in his worrisome thoughts; what emerges is...]

I need to learn--
the secrets of the mind that we cannot discern.
I need to learn--
the things that make men pass the point of no return.
Why does a wise man take leave of his senses?
Where is that fine line where sanity melts?
When does intelligence give way to madness?
A moment comes when a man becomes something else...

Curtain

[swearonallmyspores]

[It's, quite frankly, a waste of a good corpse. People milling around the dead body are really making it had for Towey to sneak a meal out of that. It might be reaching out to pick up the deceased's leg with a vine. It drops the leg with a hollow thud. ]

Hate to tell ya, Doc, but I'm pretty sure they're beyond help by now.

Seymour Krelborn | Little Shop of Horrors (1986 movie version)

[dontfeedplants]

1) Curtains Up

[Seymour had only seen dressing rooms on movies. So everything felt incredibly disorienting when he woke up in one, much less in a room so much more fancy than anything he's ever seen on Skid Row.

For a moment he thought he must have died, but nothing about this room would indicate that he had died. However as he traveled the building and found no apparent exit he started to worry. Even if he was still alive something bad had to be going on.]

I... is this a kidnapping? W-whoever you are I promise I have nothing for you!

[A small pause.]

I-I mean unless it's about Audrey II but this can't be worth kidnapping a guy, right?

2) This Petty Pace

[One of the worst things for Seymour was the lack of any good plants to take care of. It was almost even worse than being trapped in a building and being forced to kill each other.

Frankly, too much of his free time is spent checking on the plastic plants in a vague hope that they turn out to be living.

Otherwise, he does spend a little time in the kitchen, mostly out of amazement with how clean and high tech everything looked than anything else. Gosh if only Audrey was here to see this...

But the moment he picks up a blender to examine it, it slips out of his hands and crashes to the floor.]

I'm not going to be punished for that, will I?

4) Curtain

[Of course Seymour was horrified when he found the body. The motive wasn't the most appealing thing to him so he had just hoped that no one else would have been interested in the motive. But now someone had died and they

Seymour almost looked a little too calm looking at the body, however. It wasn't a particularly gruesome death, to be fair, but he almost looked lost in thought rather than actually horrified that someone had just died.]

why hello there, curtains up

[swearonallmyspores]

[Being kidnapped was not something that was on Twoey's to-do list. In fact, it was nowhere near. Nothing puts a crimp in world domination attempts like being taken to who-knows-where and dumped in a room by itself. It has opened the door with a vine, and dragged itself to the doorway, but for now had contented itself with staying there, peering at people as they went past.

At least it could get dinner and a show.

And then it saw Seymour. Wonderful, trusting Seymour. Okay, sure, the business with Audrey had probably soured their relationship somewhat, but it could still work with this. Seymour, after all, was a born schmuck. Twoey would always work with that. ]

Seymour! Old buddy, old pal, it sure is good to see you wanderin' around here. For a second there, I didn't think I had a friend in the world.

[By 'friend' it of course means 'willing patsy' but th feeling remains the same. Probably. ]

Shiva Shingetsu Astarte | SeraMyu

[solomonjihad]

Curtains Up

[Right. This...this isn't...Japan. Or Transylvania. Or Eden. Or anywhere.

Who did this? Who was responsible? Why? Why is she gone from the places she knows!? She didn't fall asleep, she's sure of it. Oh Lilith, oh Lilith, oh Mother--

Little girl. The Presence in her mind, meanwhile, simply laughed at her panic. Look, you're all alone. What can you do now? Do you think she will save you? No.

"Stop...I...I'll save myself!"

And so, she bursts into...the hallway? The open? She doesn't process enough to care - and just shouts.]

Moon Astarte Power, Make-Up!

[.....]

Moon Astarte Power, Make-Up!


MAKE-UP!!

[She feels soft, throbbing pulses in her chest and stomach - the Presence always did that when she tried to transform, tried to hold her back - but...nothing. She felt nothing of her crystal. Nothing of her core. No power. Zero.

Her breath begins to quicken as she realizes. Even the Presence is silent. Then that means...her hands go to her head.]

Its not you...no, no no...help...me!!


This Petty Face

[Humans. So many of them. Not many monsters or true creatures of the night. If Mother had been here, maybe things could be different. Lilith could find their kind so quickly. Here, alone? She feels nothing.

Still, she...can't help but want to try to...be cordial, at least. The Presence mocks, always, when she tries. You're mine now. One day you will disappear. What do you care? How long will you cling to the silly hopes of a human psyche? How long will you buy into the foolishness of a sailor soldier's existence?

"I...want to do this."

So she approaches. Chances are, its during something awkward and not conducive to friend making. Its interrupting. But she'll come up close anyways, shoulders hunched and hands folded.]

I. Hello. What are you doing?


Break a Leg

[Astarte's hands shake as she folds the note up. No one needs to know, right? No one. Its a lie, always a lie. Humans and their allies lie. Why is she so sure the conductor of this farce is a human?

Because...humans lie. Except when they don't. When they are callous and follow through with their threats. Except...she doesn't know. She's trying not to panic. If this is revealed, she can't imagine how things will go. But...she can't just give into the game, right?

Even if not doing so would lead these humans to learn things they shouldn't know.]

I-I'm all right.

[Its clear she's not.]


Curtain

[Dead. Oh, the blood. All the blood. There's the ghost of a smile as the Presence watches, just for the moment, in the front of her mind. Good. Good. A dead human. Pitiful.

She shakes her head, and she's confused as she looks around. Did...it did, didn't it? Oh. Hopefully, no one thought she did this. She really didn't.

Oh, wait, in the corner--]

I...is that a knife?


Cue Music

[Ah, its all terrible. Astarte is so...confused. Conflicted. Without Lilith to explain things, how is she even alive and functioning as a human? With humans? She doesn't know.

Before she knows it, she is singing.]

There are so many things that I don't understand
There's a world within me that I cannot explain
Many rooms to explore, but the doors look the same
I am lost, like I don't even know my own name

I've been, for sometime, looking for someone
I need to know now
Please tell me who I am...

Curtains Up

[onthebusagain]

[Heathers still confused. This isn't exactly new for Heather-- but this girl seems just as confused and distressed as she is, if not more. Thankfully, she has the cure!!]

Make-up? [She holds out the lipgloss in an offering. Her makeup bag is in her locker at school- but she does have this, at least!]

Eponine / Les Miserables

[lutin]

1. Curtain's up

Eponine stirs and settles down again without properly waking up. She's never been so comfy, nor so deliciously warm in her life. When her eyes eventually do flicker open, she finds she's somehow curled on a velvet chaise long in a strange, oddly grand room. Gas lights smoke and a sweet smell seems to cling to the air. Slowly, she pulls the thick gold brocade that had been covering her from around her so she can sit up and properly take everything in.
It's not a prison and it's not like any house she's ever been it.

Eponine wanders over to the dressing table: the source of the sweet smell is evident in the crystal glass of powder, complete with the fluffy pouf on top. She pockets an odd silver looking hip flask that was on the side, before picking up a patterned hairbrush and stroking it gently over her matted hair. She poses in the mirror, fixing her hair, and plucking at her rags in an attempt to make herself the more appealing. She hums tunelessly as she goes. But then the door creaks, and Eponine's head snaps round. She drops the brush, and it falls with a clatter onto the dressing table.

"Monsieur? Madame?" She feigns a boldness she doesn't feel. "Do you… I didn't quite mean to come in 'ere."

4. Curtain

Eponine looks sullenly at the dead body in front of her. She'd been a good woman, that one. She'd helped Eponine to brush her hair once. But deaths happen. It's just how it is. It's nothing that can be helped, and Eponine will not be losing sleep over this one.

Or she wouldn't… except. Well. Well, it looks bad. There's a knife, the small one, like what Montparnasse had. And there's the fact that the woman had been robbed blind. There was nothing left on her that was worth taking. Even her boots. It was just a coincidence, of course, that Eponine had found some boots just recently. She hadn't done it. But it certainly looked as if she had. And what decent person would not suspect the scum of doing it?

Eponine decides to make a run for it, and begins to push her way quickly through the crowd gathering around her.

Cue music
For the last few days, Eponine's been wandering around almost in a daze. It's just so glorious. Food whenever she wants. A comfy place to rest her head, proper blankets, the most strange clothes in the world. But oh - how glorious to be able to try on a pretty dress rather than her rags. She's smiling the more every day.

And one day, she can't help but hum, "A whole new world. A new and dazzling point of view. No one to tell me no, or where to go, or say I'm only dreaming."

Darla Dimple || Cats Don't Dance

[littlegirl_littlecurl]

1) Curtains Up
Darla is used to waking up in strange dressing rooms. She is a movie star and a sweet little innocent girl who needs her beauty rest after all. This one, however, is not to her specifications. There's no toys, no snacks, no Pink. Ugh. There's just no good help these days.

Speaking of help, where is Max? Hopefully hes found someone to deal with this excuse for a room.

She spends a few moments rustling through sub-par makeup boxes and flinging open drawers.

Bored with it, she straightens herself up and wanders out the door.
"Max? Maaaaaaax?"

2) This Petty Place
This music room isnt nearly large enough, but it will do. Darla's sprawled over the piano top, sighing dramatically. There's no Max. There's no one here to worship her. This stinks.

She decides waiting around a little longer, add some pitiful pouting. If that doesnt get her any attention, she's going to go somewhere else and do more of the same.

(ooc:I'm also voice-testing please be gentle UwU)

oh my god Darla (also 2)

[swearonallmyspores]

[Though she may not find an audience in the music room, should Darla find her way into the kitchen, a huge flytrap will be sitting in the corner- a legitimate captive audience. It tilts its head in her direction as she enters. ]

What've you got to sigh about, little lady?

Elle Woods | Legally Blonde

[thatblonde]

1. Curtain's up

When Elle wakes up, she blinks sleepily at first. But after a moment or so, as she gradually becomes more and more alert, she sits bolt upright and shrieks blue murder. "This isn't where I fell asleep. In fact, I don't even remember falling asleep!'

Within seconds, she's on her feet, looking around the room, distaste evident on her face. "Not even a bit of pink," she mutters to herself. Quietly now, she goes to the door, and opens it, poking her head round to stare into the corridor. "Margot? Serena? Pilar?' She calls, hoping desperately that one of them will answer.

4. Curtain
Elle had been quite happy, bobbing about in the theatre. Always chatty, she'd made friends quickly, learning names and giving beauty tips as freely as rain falls in England. But today, now, she's not chatting. Instead, her face is quite serious.

"You guys, I've called you here to show you something so horrifying, I can even see it when my eyes are shut." She points dramatically to the suspiciously bulging thing covered hastily by a rug.

"I came in and - and - OHMIGOD!" She whips the rug from the body. Blood drips morosely down from the stab wound to the chest. "I think that legally, this is called… MURDER!"

4

[callmeaschemer]

[Well... that's a lot of pink. Mal stares]

Yeah, we can see that.

Galileo Figaro | We Will Rock You

[selfconfessednutter]

1) Curtains Up
[Galileo looks around, a very confused look on his face. This is ... way too cluttered to be anywhere on Planet Mall, that's for sure. He stands quickly, pinching himelf to make sure he's not in one of his dreams. He winces at the brief flash of pain. Okay, so awake then]

W-where...?

[He goes out of the room, there's no where to go but out, after all. He can see a lot of different people. They... they all look different, which has him staring. Where are the Zone Clones?]


3) Break A Leg
[Have all your dreams come true... ]

Wh-who sent me this? I wo... I can't do that!

[Galileo's eyes are wide, wild and panicked. He longs to have his dreams be real, to not just be the mad boy in the corner muttering to himself, and to have that handed to him, as long as he does this one thing... He's shaking, looking down at his hands as though he's scared of what he might do. He is muttering, softly to himself]

So you want to be free to live your life the way you want to be...


5) Cue Music
[Galileo singing? Nothing new there, then. No, but, seriously, he's been watching the people here. They're all so different, no one else seems to be from Planet Mall, and none of them have heard of Globalsoft or of C.R.A.P. He's somewhere where he doesn't stand out in theory, and yet he still does. Having noises running through your head all the time does wonders for a person's sanity. ]

[He doesn't see it like that though, as his quiet singing makes clear]

There's something wrong with me, chemically,
Somethin' wrong with me inherently
The wrong mix in the wrong genes

Scaramouche - We Will Rock You

[nogaga]

Curtain Up

Scaramouche wakes up swearing. It only continues as she actually takes in her surroundings. And then she shuts up.
"Have I actually been turned into a GaGa Girl?" she wonders aloud. To reassure herself, she stands up and peers down at her costume. Arm tie. Check. Skirt. Check. Red corset - squee! - check. So no. She's not been captured.

She goes to the door of the dressing room and sticks her head out. "Oy! Gazza! Are you here?"

To anybody giving her even the remotest strange look, she gestures eloquently with her hand, and snaps, "Do one!"

This Petty Place.

Scara doesn't do friends. It's not that she doesn't want to. It's just that every girl she knows is a brain dead, mindless sheep, humming the same sound, and clacking on about their identical makeup and hairdos.

So Scara sits back, openly hostile, with her arms folded and a deadly glare for anyone who so much as glances her way. As soon as anybody does approach, she bristles. "Go away - bitch."

curtain up

[notaloser]

"What are you on about?" comes a very, very, agitated reply from the strange man with four legs.

"Obviously, you're the one responsible for sticking me in this boneafide death trap in the first place!" Squidward hisses, accusingly. "So how about you wave your wand or whatever it is you people do, and send me back to my tiki this very second!"

Squidward Tentacles | The Spongebob Musical

[notaloser]

1. i'm not a loser

[There's what appears to be a very angry man stomping down the hallway, with an odd shade of sea blue hair and...two extra legs. When he catches you in his sights, he angrily stomps towards you with a cry of "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!"]

You've got a lot of nerve interrupting my beauty sleep! [He jabs a finger at you.] I'll have you know that Mr. Krabs demands that I be at work at 6 a.m. tomorrow! [jab.] Ohhhh, but now, because of whatever stupid game you're playing, my beauty sleep has to be interrupted! [jab.] So either you fess up and get me back to my abode right now, or I will be forced to contact the proper authorities!

2. i'm not all alone in thinking that i am not all alone

[Outside of the whole...murder thing, Squidward is slowly growing more accustomed to life here. In all honestly, the idea of just sleeping all day and skipping work is an appealing thing, and he's more than happy to exploit that fact whenever he can.

But no. Today is an artistic day. One of creative pursuits. Perhaps this explains why, in the hour or two you were gone from the art room, Squidward has painted approximately 20 self-portraits of himself. They range from the common, to the abstract, to the undecipherable.

Perhaps his mother would be proud.]

Weeellll? What do you think of my masterpieces, hm?