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~~**Broken Angels**~~ A roleplay by me and polaprincess
Everything in bold is mine
The masked figure sat in front of his instrument of sorrow, his gloved hands dancing gracefully across the keys as he began to play Bach's Toccata & Fugue. The cavern echoed with misery, as the Phantom thought of the great joy that had no doubt befallen upon Christine now that she was free of him. He stopped after the first few bars and turned to the wilting bouquet of roses that sat in a glass vase beside the sheet music. A small tear rolled down his deformed cheek, and he collapsed on the keys, a sad melody ringing through out his lair, and he cried even more as the notes returned to his ears, sad, and unaccompanied by the voice of the angel he was sure to never hear again. It had nearly been three months since he last saw her in the cemetery, and he had ceased his tutoring as well. He turned his yellow eyes to the operatic score he'd spent his entire life on, Don Juan Triumphant, and thought of his beloved Christine. She fears monsters, yet she agrees to live that abusive Vicomte?! He grit his teeth in anger, and immediately returned to his Opera, scribbling the notes in his prominent red pen, and his gaze continued to fall on the wilted bouquet of roses, "Soon, my love. I shall free you!" he commanded, as he struck the lower keys violently.
Christine sat on the velvet stool in front of her mirror, finishing her makeup for the Masquerade. She glaced at the full bouquets of white roses Raoul had sent her. Everyone was cooing about how lucky she was. She sniffed. If only they knew. She made sure to put extra powder on the places on her arms where the horrible purple bruises showed. she looked at herself in the mirror. True, she looked beautiful. But empty. She lacked that glow she should have, the glow of a woman in love. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to force herself to belive she loved him. But she couldn't. She titled her head back, making sure that the tears didn't mess up her makeup.
The Phantom added the last few notes to his score, then tossed the quill aside. He glanced to his room, catching the glimpse of the red suit and gruesome mask that stared at him. Erik stood, and strode to the garment. Swiftly, he disrobed, and covered his pale flesh with the blood red costume, and swiftly switched the masks, not wanting to expose his horridness even in his solitude.
Aysha softly padded through the lair, looking for Erik. She found him finally and leaped onto his shoulder, rubbing up against his cheek, purring. Her million franc collar glistened in the candlelight.
Erik fixed his pale mask into place and turned to the creature. He stroked her gently, then placed her on the bed. He spun around swiftly, "How do I look?" he asked his companion.
Aysha purred and swatted at him playfully. His mask fell to the floor.
Erik dove for it, praying to catch it before it shattered to pieces. He grasped it tightly to his chest and turned his yellow eyes on the feline, "I have told you to stop that!" he ordered in a soft tone, and he tied his mask into place with a sturdy black ribbon. He couldn't be angry with her. He had become so attached to the Siamese cat that he didn't wish for her to leave. Erik stroked the cat from head to toe, then turned to face the mirror. He combed his black hair back and then grabbed a black touppe over his hairless head. He grabbed the skull sword that lay beside Aysha, and placed it in its sheath that was belted to his side.
Aysha scowled in a way only a kitten can scowl and stalked out of the room.
Christine opened her dressing room door to see raoul waiting for her. He smiled raoughly and pulled her out. "What took you so long?" He hissed. Christine shrunk back from him. "I'm sorry! Please!" she begged him. Raoul sighed, and they began to dance.
Erik turned to the exitting feline, "I shall be up at the Masquerade. If anyone comes to call, you know what to do," and that was all he said before stepping into the boat, and pushing off shore. His strokes were slow. He didn't want to be there on time, after all. With his masterpiece tucked safely in his cloak, the boat carried him gently to the corridor leading to Christine's mirror.
Christine stared down at the floor beneath her swirling dress before Raoul pinched her and she had to look at him. His eyes were soulless. But she was bound to love him, to marry him. She felt the weight of his engagement ring on her neck. There was nothing she, or anyone, could do.
The masked man meddled with the contraption that operated the mirror, and casually stepped outside, closing it swiftly behind him. He could hear the merry songs echoing through the corridors, and caught a certain sense of his Angel's prescence. His black boots fell silently in the carpeted hallways as he neared the stairs, and slowly desccened down them, the music filling his ears, and the familiar voices filtered in through his mind. One voice rose above all others; a facade of a laugh that fluttered from Christine's lips (no doubt to mask her fear of Raoul in this public situation).
Christine closed her eye, and tried to look ike she was enjoying this. She couldn't look at Raoul anymore. She opened them, and she saw her angel. Standing at the top of the grand staircase, dressed as the Red Death.
Erik walked down the grand staircase, each step with aggression, "Why so silent, good messieurs?" he asked melodiously, raising his hands to the sides. He caught a glimpse of Christine standing beside the "monster", yet maintained his commanding demeanor as he advanced on the crowd.
Christine almost called out to him, but Raoul stepped in front of her protectively, his hands around her like an iron cage. She pleaded out to Erik with her eyes, praying he would turn and see her. "Please Erik, please take me away from him..."
The Phantom turned sharply on the young "couple", his golden eyes piercing through the white mask like the sword which he wielded, "You..." he stated to the young Vicomte, "Release her," he commanded venomously, his black hair shimmering under the chandelier, and his steps growing more aggressive and quick with each advancement. He drew his sword and turned to Raoul, "Or I shall take the honor of removing your hands myself," he added, the silver skull sword drawing closer to the evil young man. Erik was truthful in his actions, and would not hesitate in "disarming" the boy to release his Angel, if the opportunity rose.
Raoul stiffened, still holding Christine behind him. He could see that behind the Phantom the managers had left, no doubt fetching to police. Everyone was horrified, staring at them, except Madame Giry, who seemed to be praying for god-knows-what. Raoul knew he had to stall as much time as possible. He looked the Phantom in the eyes. "And why would I give her to you?" He inquired sharply. "At least I'm human." Christine whimpered behind him. Raoul was so cruel! How could he be so mean to Erik? Raoul sharply stepped on her toe, and Christine fell silent, now staring at the floor.
Erik caught his breath when he heard the cry expel from Christine's perfect lips, "You are human?" he said, advancing on the two, "YOU are human?" he asked again, drawing nearer until he breathed his fowl breath on the Vicomte, "Would a human do this?" he said, stripping Christine's shoulder free of the velvet and lace to reveal the plum bruises on the soprano's upper arm, "Only a monster beats his wife!" he hollered, shoving Raoul forcefully, and reaching out to his Angel, "Come with me," he ushered to her softly, despite his brutality to her "husband".
In the moment when Erik tore her dress, numerous things happened. Raoul gaped and froze, Christine yelped, Madame Giry screamed, the police stopped. Raoul regained his composure and fumed. "How dare you make such an accusation?! I love her!" he reached forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her towards him roughly. He made eye contact with the police, and they charged.
The Phantom stood, his cold eyes burning with utter resentment, and with a quick bow of his disfigured face, and furl of his cloak, he disappeared in a puff of red smoke, leaving the "humans" to their thoughts, and retreating to his dark sanctuary below the Opera House Populaire.
No! Christine screamed in her mind. He had left without her! She started crying. She would be confined, kept in Raoul's prison forever. There was no escape.
An eerie voice echoed throughout the hall, and all lights dimmed, "Let your mind start a journey though a strange new world," the voice began, each note rebounding into all of their ears, and festering quietly, "Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before," it continued, seeming to echo out of thin air. Erik stood high above on the chandelier, pitching his voice everywhere so as not to give away his position, "Let your soul take you where you long to be!" it ended forcefully, extinguishing all lights in the process. Erik slowly slid down a rope and now stood in front of Christine in the impedding gloom.
Christine opended her mouth, breaking into a beautiful smile. she loved him, so much. Raoul grabbed her waist and swung her up into his arms, and took off. Christine screamed, her fists pounding into Raoul's back. "Let me go! Let me GO!"
Erik left the light as it was...dark. He need not the light of day to see his prey. He dashed off after Raoul, feeding his anger on the screams that eruptted from Christine's mouth. He unsheathed his sword, and run after the crazed young man.
He found him, dancing around in circles, "Insolent boy," Erik sang from the rafters above them, "No doubt you've gotten yourself lost," he added with a small grin. He watched from his perch, and silently slid down a pillar, keeping his voice in the rafters.
Madame Giry, horrifed, grabbed Meg, and slipped away as the chaos of the room exploded. It was pitch black, no one could see anything.
Erik charged at Raoul and Christine, stripping the young Vicomte of his bride to be, and disappeared into the shadows, "Hush, my angel," Erik said softly, and then throwing a loud laugh into the rafters above Raoul to throw him off, "I am here," he said, tracing his black gloved hand down her perfect face.
Christine threw her arms around him, inhaling his scent. Raoul swore and ran in circles blindly, ultimatley smacking into a pole.
Down into the dungeons of his black despair, Erik carried his Angel, his steps fast and sure until he reached the boat. He let her in gently, then took his post as he rowed them across the glassy lake once again.
Christine was ecstatic. He had rescued her, she was finally safe. She felt like crying, she was so happy. When they reached the shore, and he held out his gloved hand for her to take, it wasn't even enough for her. She jumped on him, her arms around his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his. There was no way she could repay him.
The Phantom was powerless to stop her actions, and didn't wish to. Erik was in paradise as Christine grabbed him with such love and graditude, "There now," he said, getting to his feet, craddling her in his slightly muscular arms, "I won't let him harm you again," he said gently, his voice reverberating off the cavern's walls, surrounding the pair in a cadence of sweet tones, and he began to sing softly to her, a sweet ballad off the top of his head.
His voice was amazing, incredible. So melodic and gorgeous. Christine collapsed into him, savoring this moment. She never wanted to let go of him. She looked up and met his eyes. She reached up and touched his cheek gently, and removed his mask. It fluttered to the floor. She stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him.
He froze, wanting to run into a corner and hide...but...Christine removed his masked willingly, and kissed him so passionately, he dared not leave her side for fear of it being a torturous dream that he wished never to wake from. Her lips were cool and tender on his face. Oh glory! How he'd longed to taste those lips! Never in all his lifetime had he been kissed, he wanted this moment to last forever. Erik traced his hand along the small of her back and drew her nearer, pressing his lips softly against hers and caressing the side of her cheek in a cold black glove. She flinched slightly at the cold texture, and the tenderness of the bruises under the makeup made her wince. Erik pulled himself away and gazed with his yellow eyes at his Angel of Music that stood before him. A silver tear rolled his cratered cheek and he opened his lips, "No one would listen," he sang angellically, "No one but you," he added tearfully, "heard as the outcast hears," he concluded, sealing his love with a passionate kiss as more tears of joy and sadness streamed down his aging face.
Christine was crying as well. The connection that they made, in that moment they understood each other more than any other man and woman had ever known each other in the world. She wrapped her arms around his neck, never wanting to stop kissing him. She was so happy. She didn't want to do anything else for they rest of her life.
Erik released her from his mesmerizing kiss and gently scooped up the frail young woman in his muscular arms and started walking toward his organ. He placed her on the seat and sat down beside her, and began playing the song he sung to her the first night they met face to face, Music of the Night, "Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation," he began melodiously, his fingers dancing gracefully across the keys, causing the cavern to ring with the beautiful melody.
Christine's hands snaked around his neck as he sang. He paused to breathe, and she joined him. "Slowly, deftly, music shall caress you..." she closed her eyes, bliss from happiness. "Hear it, feel it, secretly posess you..."
"Let your fantasies unwind, look around and you will find! Only me to save you from that monstrous knight!" he interjected, "Protected by the music of the night!" he added, flying across the keys, his golden eyes glimmering in the candlelight. Erik turned to his beloved Christine and watched her intently.
**(If anyone is actually reading this, more will be coming)**
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