Don't forget.... LOVE NEVER DIES!!11!1 {Christine}

[erik]

{This takes place after the 'DO YOU LIKE MOOSIC?' thread, which will end in Erik going back to Paris}

The Opera Ghost had returned to his normal home - his lair underneath the lake of the Paris Opera House. If the time were what it was supposed to be, neither his lair nor the Opera House should be standing. However, it was. Erik was not about to complain that both his opera house and organ were intact. The Phantom approached his organ and ran a hand over the keys. It was just as he remembered - just as it had been what was supposed to be so many years ago. Any memory of the events of a night ago involving that girl and the Music Meister had practically left him as he looked around the lair.

There was... only one thing missing. His Angel of Music, who was now so far away.... The Phantom doubted he would see her again. To escape these thoughts, Erik reached his hands over his organ and began to play - it was a soft tune, one that reminded him of Christine. Eventually, Erik became entirely wrapped into his music, any thoughts of Christine or Raoul... or of anything else from his former life had faded - replaced by the Music of the Night.

In his mind, there was still the small feeling that he would never be seeing Christine again. It was a sad feeling, of course... Attempting to block it was hopeless. And yet, he continued to play, becoming more and more absorbed in his music as he played.

[jemi2]

Having arrived in this strange, new place, the only thing Christine could think to do was return to the Opera Populaire, in hopes of finding something familiar there. Quite frankly, she wasn't willing to spend more time outside, where things were...bizarre, to say the very least. The opera house seemed quite unchanged, and the sight of it among all these horribly unfamiliar things were a comfort if there ever was one. Drawing her cloak closer around herself, Christine rushed forward, eager to get inside, away from prying eyes and the stares that seemed to follow her everywhere.

The interior of the opera was cool and empty, strangely so, really. Normally, Christine would have been witness to a bustling foyer, filled with people buying their tickets and going to their seats for the next show. Now, however, it was completely devoid of any other person, which was quite a relief after the crowded streets. Reaching up, Christine lowered the hood of her cloak, revealing her dark curls underneath. She sighed softly, a sound that echoed around the empty room, magnified to a slightly louder volume. Starting off in a random direction, down one of the halls, Christine looked around, hoping to perhaps spot one of the dancers here, and maybe get a little more information on where she was.

However, the halls were just as empty as the entrance had been, which was rather disheartening. Christine had been lingering for a time under the hope that she might be able to take her place in the chorus, at least for a little while, and to make a little money. After all, she could hardly continue to sleep where she had been for the past day or so, and she certainly needed money for food and necessities.

She had tried to pay for something to eat just the other day, with the few francs she'd had in her pocket, but the man had merely laughed in her face and questioned why she was using such old-fashioned coins. He'd told her they belonged in a museum, not her pocket. Thankfully, though, after seeing the look of true confusion on her face, the storekeeper had allowed her to keep the food she'd been trying to buy, so at the very least, she wasn't starving in this place.

As Christine continued to walk, something suddenly caught her attention. She stopped, tilting her head slightly. From very, very far away, she could have swore she could hear organ music being played. It was faint, and one had to be listening to hear it properly, but it was certainly there. For a moment, Christine thought it might have been someone performing in the opera warming up or practicing for a performance, but no. There was only one organ in the world that sounded like that. But...no. It couldn't be. Christine wasn't even willing to allow herself to believe that he might be here, someone frightening...yet familiar. And, at this point, Christine would take all the familiarity she could get.

Almost against her will, her feet carried her down the hallway, which she now recognized as a row of dressing rooms. And, just as she'd expected, the door at the end was open, revealing the all-too familiar room beyond. Nothing in there seemed to have been touched, and yet the door was wide open. Had someone just been careless, she wondered, or was there some sort of meaning to this? Casting the thought aside, Christine stepped forward, towards the large mirror that took up a good portion of the nearby wall. Her hand rose of it's own accord, her fingers searching for the metal clasp that she knew had to still be in place.

Ah. There it was.

The door swung open and the music suddenly grew louder. There was no doubt now of it's origins and, under it's spell, Christine began her journey down to the tunnels below the opera house. She grabbed a torch off the wall to light her way, it's flickering light casting dancing shadows on the walls around her as she walked, nearing the lair with every step. The music grew louder and louder, soft and slow and sad, drawing her in with every note, as only one person's music could. Despite herself, Christine found herself vocalizing along with it, the music drawing her voice out into the open. It was a comfort as well, for she couldn't help but be frightened at the prospect of being here again.

As she reached the end of her little journey, Christine suddenly found her path blocked. Of course...she'd forgotten about the lake. Forgetting herself, she nearly let out a cry of despair, for there was no way for her to cross. The only boat down here belonged to Erik, and he didn't know she was here. Steeling herself, Christine stepped to the water's edge, as close as she could get without getting her skirts wet. Still holding her torch, she called out into the darkness. "Erik?" But no...that wouldn't be enough. Surely, he couldn't hear her from the other side of the lake. The music was still playing, and Christine found herself singing once more, drawn in once again by it's power.

Now, it was only a matter of waiting.

[OH MY GOD I POSTED.]

[erik]

Being deep within the secluded lair was a comfort for Erik. The presence of others in what was intended to be his new opera house {the one he'd had for such a short time} was intrusive and only served as a reminder for the Opera Ghost of why he'd kept himself hidden away from society. Allowing himself to take in the familiar chill and dampness in the air, Erik stood from his organ and let out a soft sigh. Although he knew deep in his mind that it was impossible, he longed for nothing more than for Christine to be there by his side - to breathe life into his music and perform it for the crowds. However long ago it was, the Phantom would always hold on to the one memory he had of his music being truly performed - watching them perform Don Juan Triumphant. They had reacted worse than Erik had expected; but it had turned out exactly as he had imagined it.

In retrospect the part of Don Juan was not meant for Signor Piangi. He did have the voice for it, but he simply did not look the part. Both aspects were important in musical theater. The character of Don Juan was intended to be thin and handsome - far from what Signor Piangi was. The part of Don Juan was eventually played by a better performer, one who understood what the part was intended to be. In all honesty, Erik believed any performance of his would be far superior to any of the lead actors chosen by the Opera Populaire, besides perhaps Christine in time. She was still his student. In time, however, it was highly possible she could rise to his level. Their duet in Don Juan Triumphant proved that she was likely the best actress and signer the Opera Populaire had seen. If only he were allowed to continue her lessons...

The Opera Ghost, his mind now clouded with mixed emotions as it usually did when he thought of his opera and what followed, sat at his organ and brought his hands to the keys. The organ was as beautiful an instrument as ever - one clearly made for his playing. Pressing his hands down, Erik began to play. The music, as it always did, had a haunting, almost hypnotizing sound to it. In the past it had managed to make Christine believe that he was her father in a desperate attempt for her to be with him instead of the Viscount de Chagny. Growling slightly at the thought of him, Erik closed off his mind to the thoughts of the past and continued playing.

Just as he became lost in his music, he heard the familiar sound of the mirror door opening. Ideas flooded his head as to who it could be. While he hoped for it to be Christine, he doubted it. It was probably some poor fool who had the misfortune of discovering his lair. The Phantom decided to deal with it as it came and continued playing. He didn't care if it lured whoever it was directly to him. If it did he would simply use the Punjab Lasso to kill whoever it may be - depending on who it was. In a brief moment, Erik found himself completely forgetting the door in favor of his music. It was stressful moments such as this, where he was hoping desperately that it was Christine, that he needed his music to allow him to get away from a world that would only continue to be cruel to him if he allowed himself to be tempted into believing it was Christine.

A cry rang out, calling his name. It was a familiar voice - one that, once heard, could not be forgotten. Christine was singing with his music, making Erik want to continue. Hearing her sing once more was all that he'd asked for and he certainly wasn't going to stop soon. Suddenly realizing why she hadn't come closer before singing, Erik debated stopping. Her voice was all he had wanted to hear since he had allowed Raoul to have her. Now that he was hearing it once more, he didn't want her to stop. Knowing he had to if he wished to hear her voice more clearly, Erik ceased playing and stood. The Phantom put on his hat and cape before walking swiftly over to the small boat he used to cross the lake. Taking hold of an oar, Erik set off to see Christine once more.

The brisk air of the lake was also something of a familiar comfort. It reminded him of his brief visits outside of his lair to see whatever opera was being performed, but it Hannibal or Il Muto. Il Muto held particular memories that Erik would rather not think about. Instead he remembered the other operas that he'd seen. Although La Carlotta's voice was more reminiscent of a toad than a proper singer, most of the operas he had seen were at least decent. What he enjoyed most, however, was when the Opera Populaire had been forced to perform his opera. He ranked it far superior to the operas he had seen previously performed especially Il Muto.

It felt like hours until he reached the other side of the lake. There stood Christine, as if waiting for him to arrive. "Christine..." Erik said, his voice soft, yet holding it's constant haunting quality.

[jemi2]

The chill in the air didn't go unnoticed, and Christine found herself pulling her cloak closer around herself as she continued to sing. Her voice echoed around the caverns eerily, the high notes ringing out with perfect clarity. Her voice was every bit the wonder Erik had trained it to be, strong and lovely, with the ability to outshine even the Opera's prima donna. Though, she wouldn't be here, Christine supposed, and neither would any of the other performers. This thought bought about a certain heaviness in her heart as she realized that she may never seen Meg Giry, her closest friend, ever again. A note of sadness slipped into her singing as the organ music continued.

Suddenly, it ceased, and Christine blinked as she was released from the music's spell. She nearly cried out in despair at the loss of such a familiar thing, but calmed herself. Obviously, this meant Erik had heard her, and was coming to bring her to the other side of the lake. Normally, she might have been frightened, but at the moment, Erik was all she had in this strange, new place, and even the sight of him would be comforting. To guide him to her, she picked up another song, her voice reaching into the darkness to find him and let him know she was still there. Surely, he had heard her?

Had he stopped for another reason, she wondered. It was possible, but Christine put the thought out of her mind. There wasn't much Erik would cease his playing for, especially so abruptly. Straining her ears for any sound of water lapping against a boat, Christine continued to sing, peering out into the darkness. She could only see a little ways in front of her, even with her torch, but Erik's boat normally had a lantern attached to the front of it, so hopefully, it would be easy to spot when he came for her. How big was this lake, anyway? Christine had never really considered it, but now that she was standing in front of the water, it seemed vast, stretching out forever in all directions.

She shivered slightly, backing away from the water a bit and pulling her cloak even closer. How Erik could stand to be down here in the cold all the time was a mystery to her, though she supposed it was somewhat warmer in the lair than it was out here by the lake. Her singing was picked up once more, the only thing besides her torch that would help Erik to find her in this place. Surely it wouldn't be too much longer, would it? Christine couldn't remember exactly how long it took for the boat to cross the lake, she'd been far too under Erik's spell to notice anything like that when he'd first bought her down here, and far too frightened to notice on the second time. Still, she hoped it wouldn't take too much longer...

There!

A light suddenly appeared on the other side of the lake, moving closer and closer. Christine smiled despite herself, feeling her heart leap. Whether it was from fear or joy or some strange combination of the two, she didn't know. Her voice grew louder, more confident, as the light grew larger, quickly revealing itself to be a flickering lantern. A dark shape formed around the light, indistinguishable at first, but growing ever clearer as that of a small boat, and a man using a long pole to row it. Ceasing her song, Christine simply stood there, holding her torch and hoping the light was enough to guide him now. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the boat and it's occupant were bathed in light, and fully visible to Christine.

For a moment there was silence, save for the lapping of water at the boat as Erik held it still. Christine stepped forward, her feet finding a small dock. Her lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but Erik's voice claimed that right first. His voice was just as unchanged as he was, hypnotizing and powerful, almost deceivingly gentle and soft at the moment. "Erik..." her own voice filled the void of silence left behind by his. She walked to the edge of the dock, switching her torch to her other hand. "W...what are you doing here?"

{Feel free to move them on in the boat if you need to ^^}

[erik]

Christine's voice, the voice he hadn't heard for far too long, broke the silence. Hearing her voice was what he once lived for, and truthfully what he still lived for. He'd once thought ever hearing it again would be an impossibility. That man would never allow her to see him again, as far as he understood. As far as Erik would ever think, that man would never deserve Christine by his side. But, it was not Erik's choice. No matter what he thought of the fop Raoul, he knew that it was Christine's choice. He'd been forced to learn that lesson and forced to let her go with him. What else was there to do? He knew that Christine could never be happy with him and it was Christine's happiness above his own. In truth, the only reason he'd kept himself living was the possibility of eventually seeing Christine once again.

Erik gently took Christine's hand and lead her onto the boat. The Opera Ghost took hold of an oar and began to row the boat to the nearby Lair, not yet answering her question. It would take quite a bit of explaining and the circumstances were not quite what Erik would want to do to get back to his own home. It involved... helping another, which was certainly not Erik's forte. He preferred staying as far away from others as much as possible, which was why he lived underneath an Opera House as far away from human society as is possible in Paris. Soon enough, the boat reached the Lair. Erik stepped out and offered his hand to Christine, a means of showing her he meant to help her out of the small boat.

As soon as the two were out of the boat, Erik silently approached his organ and sat down at the nearby chair. He desperately wanted to hear Christine sing, but he felt as though he needed to be less demanding if he wanted to keep her with him. Behaving as his once did would only scare her, as it did before. Erik put his fingers over the organ's keys and began to play, hopefully showing that he wanted her to sing.

[jemi2]

Christine was briefly confused when Erik didn't answer her question, but she tentatively placed her hand in his as he helped her into the boat, settling down. The last time she had been in here, it had been Raoul rowing her away from this place. That thought sent a stab of pain through her heart, but she tried to push it away. It would only hurt Erik more if Raoul was on her mind. Instead, Christine looked up at Erik as he rowed, watching him thoughtfully. She should be more frightened than this, she realized, and yet, the sight of something familiar in this strange world, even Erik, was comforting.

Water lapped at the boat as they traveled through the caverns under the opera house, and Christine was rather surprised to see that nothing had changed much. Mist still swirled over the glassy lake, disturbed only when Erik set his oar down to push them forward. Idly, Christine hummed to herself, letting her fingers trail in the cool water. Honestly, why was she not frightened? Erik was taking her to his lair, a place that inspired fear in everyone's hearts. But, to Christine, it was a place to stay that wasn't out in this new Paris, which was much, much more frightening than Erik's lair.

Candelabrum came into view as they approached the lair, and Christine was surprised to see that they weren't lit. Had Erik simply not had the time, or was there some other reason? It was very strange, considering that they had been lit every other time she had come down here. The boat glided into the dock, and Christine once again placed her hand in Erik's and let him help her onto solid ground. Quietly, she followed him into the lair, her eyes widening a little as she looked around.

There was an inch of dust on everything, except for the organ. It looked as though no one had been here for years and years. Had Erik been living here with all of this? Christine frowned, but continued to follow after Erik, already making plans to maybe tidy up a little. She watched as he settled onto the organ bench and began to play.

"Wait," Christine quickly stepped forward and touched his shoulder without thinking. "Erik, I'd like to know what's going on. Why is Paris so different? Why does your...home look like this? What is this?" In her world of uncertainty, it was odd that Erik would be the one to perhaps provide some answers.

[erik]

It was a simple fact that tidying his lair was not on the top of Erik's 'to-do' list. Far from it, actually. Normally, his lair would remain clean enough, particularly when he had brought Christine there. Since he had first brought her to the lair it had been that Christine was one of the main reasons he kept his home in relative neatness, though before it was hardly a terrible place to live. It was usually covered in crumpled up sheets of music that Erik had deemed unworthy to be a part of his Don Juan. Now that he had finished Don Juan Triumphant, Erik truly had no idea what to write. Inspiration, such as the inspiration he had from the tale of Don Juan, had not struck him. Perhaps he would try his hand at another opera? Or perhaps something smaller, like a sonata? Ideas rushed through Erik's head, making him completely unable to decide what he wanted to do.

It was just because Christine had entered his home that he noticed it was in poor state. Erik was usually an observant man, but he had allowed himself to be distracted by the need for music and the lack of inspiration. Truly, he was unable to write anything worth something unless he had some sort of inspiration. Perhaps Christine was the inspiration he needed? Her voice was the best soprano he had heard, after all. It did make him slightly proud that he had been the one to train such an amazing voice. He did accept that, without a voice like her's, his music would be reduced back to the nothing it was before she entered his life.

The feeling of Christine's hand on his shoulder while he played surprised him. She had only ever interrupted him during his playing once, and that hadn't ended at all well. Erik ceased his playing and turned around. Normally, he would be positively enraged if someone interrupted his music. Christine was different. Besides, he had her with him now, without that awful fop there to take her away. Yelling would only serve to scare her away, which would leave him alone with the awful music he'd been composing since she left. Instead, Erik opted to speak with her. "I would surely give you answers if I knew them myself." The Opera Ghost said, standing up from his chair and gazing out at the lake. "From what I have gathered, it seems we are in a year far beyond our own. My lair hasn't been touched since..." He cut himself off. Bringing up what happened might put guilt on Christine, guilt that Erik would be ashamed to put on her.

[jemi2]

Christine knew that she might be tempting fate when she touched Erik's shoulder to make him stop playing. The last time she had interrupted his music, things...hadn't gone well, to say the least. But now, with her curiosity burning, there wasn't anything that was going to stop her from getting answers. She was frightened, and very nearly alone in this new Paris. Erik was the only person she had seen that she knew, and that made Christine want to stay with him, if only due to his familiarity.

However, it seemed that Erik didn't have the answers she sought either. Admittedly, this threw Christine off a little bit, for she knew Erik was an intelligent man. Still, how was he, or anyone, supposed to explain what had happened to them? Now, clearly, they were years into the future, and nothing made sense anymore. "I can see that..." she replied after a moment, looking around at the dusty interior of the lair. It was odd to think that it had laid empty for so long, and almost a little frightening. Christine pushed the thought from her mind.

"I know...you have reason to not want me here," she spoke after a moment, following after Erik as he stood to look out at the lake, "and I will leave if you'd like...but I have nowhere else to go." Of course, a cellar wasn't the ideal place to stay, but it meant a bed and a roof over her head. It might have been cold and damp and dark, but honestly, it was the only place she could go.

She had already been here for a day, and sleeping in some park again wasn't exactly how she wanted to spend her night. And, he had taken her here, hadn't he? He would have left her on the dock, or not come at all if he didn't want her in his home. "Do you know what year it is, exactly, Erik?" Christine asked suddenly, the thought occurring to her that she didn't even know the date or the year, even if she had spent a day out in the world outside the lair. Strangely, she felt safer here than she had out there, which was probably not the best of ideas. Erik was here, after all, and who knew what his feelings towards her now were?

[erik]

As Erik looked out at the lake, his mind wandered to the subject of the other inhabitants of the Opera House's cellars. Erik was not... altogether familiar with each and every one of them and he certainly avoided them and only spoke with them when it was completely necessary. Erik was a very anti-social one and was perfectly satisfied with keeping away from the other cellar inhabitants, thank you very much. The Opera Ghost stepped away from the organ and walked over the door of his house, which was actually quite normal for a house on an island underneath a famous opera house. The idea would normally be considered silly, but Erik simply had to live in such conditions. Besides, it was away from everyone... much more comfortable than a house where anyone could simply knock on the door and force one into conversation.

Just as Erik was about to open the house's door for Christine, she spoke again. Words that Erik had honestly not expected to hear. "Any reason I have would be because of my own actions." Erik replied, looking at Christine again. Indeed he believed this to be this the truth and it likely was. Erik had not been thinking in his mad drive to make Christine his and had done far more harm than good... Not that Erik honestly cared about the lost lives of an opera singer and the 'chief of the flies' Joseph Buquet. The latter had been spreading rumors about Erik and deserved his death. The other... well, he'd gotten in the way and done poorly in his role as Don Juan. The character of Don Juan was not supposed to have as much weight as Piangi did and... He payed the price for his faults. It was no large matter to Erik that he'd killed two people {and likely more when he'd dropped the chandelier} so he could gain the love of Christine. He only cared about it because it made Christine so frightened of him...

"...You may leave if you so desire." Erik said, his voice showing a hint of sadness as he spoke. He understood that Christine would never want to be with him. Not when there was a possibility of her.... fop being about. And there was certainly a possibility. "I believe it is 2012 at the moment. I have no idea of the month or day..." Erik had caught a brief glimpse of a newspaper dated 2012 before even arriving in France. Unless the trip to France had changed the time period as well, it was likely 2012 still...

[jemi2]

"But, I don't desire!" Christine protested, a little panicked as Erik walked to the door and began to open it. A silence hung in the room after her outburst, and she immediately turned her gaze to the floor. "Where would I go?" she added in a much softer voice. Erik was the only person she knew in this place, and even if he still frightened her, he was the only familiar thing she'd seen thus far.

Raoul and Meg and everyone Christine had ever known where nowhere to be found, and the small amount of money she had wasn't good anymore. She had no idea how to go about getting more. Well...there was one option, but the very thought of it horrified her.

She clasped Erik's sleeve desperately. "Please, Erik...let me stay with you. I won't be much trouble, I promise, I just have nowhere else to go!" Why was she pleading with him? Of course he was let her stay...right? Forcing her hands to unclench from the black cloth of his jacket, Christine attempted to calm herself. "I'm sorry....I'm afraid I might be just a bit...hysterical from all of this." She sighed, sinking onto a divan nearby and resting her head in her hands. This was all too much for her and she was beginning to feel mentally exhausted.

"2012..." Dear god, they was more than 200 years in the future. How Erik was remaining so calm was completely beyond her. "Erik, what's going to happen to us?" Christine looked up, tears rimming her eyes. "We don't belong here...and there's no way to go back..."

[/size]

[erik]

At Christine's statement, Erik was confused... Perhaps even a bit startled. Appalled, even. How could any human, especially Christine, desire anything other than running away from him? It was all explained in Christine's next words. She simply had nowhere to go, so she was forced to stay with him. It was always a sad thing when someone had him forced upon them. His mother, for instance, had been burdened with his presence. Erik did hate her, though he understood that she was in a terrible situation. Christine was now in the same situation, or at least a similar one. It was a tad strange how often people were stuck with him, seeing as he was exceptionally anti-social.

If Erik had the choice, he would have not practically forced Christine into living with him. But, he did not have the choice and if he were to not force her into living with him she would surely die. It was the only option. "I see no reason to not allow you into my home." Erik said, attempting to rectify his mistake of seeming as though he wanted her gone. Though he would have much rather allowed her to leave instead of being forced to live with him, he would rather she not be murdered by any marauding idiot in Paris. And if she weren't murdered, the only real means of getting money she had were all terrible choices. "I simply meant that I will not force you to stay here."

Christine was far more stressed about the future than Erik. Perhaps because she had the ability to make connections with others and had known life beyond the cellars of the Opera House. Erik remembered when he had traveled the world and seen glimpses of such life. He understood that he would never be a part of normal life. "...We will stay here." Erik replied, now certain that Christine wanted to live with him, if only because she had nowhere to go. "Nobody will find us here and we will not have to live among the residents of this year."