It is 1882-1883 Paris, France, and both the Parisiens and visitors alike bustle about in their daily lives. In the very heart of Paris is the recently constructed Op?ra Garnier, where performers, and scene-shifters, and all sorts of people from all sorts of professions busy themselves with maintenance and with preparations for performances.
Unknown to all but a small handful (and even to most of these, only as a myth), a spectre of a man dwells below them in the cellars, watching them, musing upon them, and occasionally preying upon their fears for sport, or acting as an invisible puppet master to the company.
Who knows what terrors this mysterious "Phantom" is capable of, or what surprisingly frightening or blissfully wondrous secrets he may have in store.
We are now accepting canon characters (no matter how obscure) and original characters (see list for recommended OCs). We also encourage the creation of characters who are historical figures or even people living in the period. We are an intermediate-advanced role-playing site, but are willing to help people who are new to role-playing progress quickly to an intermediate level.
Site plot and graphics created by Kristine. Concept by Mel and Kristine. Layout and skins created by Kristine. Templates by Kristine and Meg. The Rue Scribe Side is an intermediate-advanced role-playing website based on the 1911 novel Le Fant?me de l'Op?ra by Gaston Leroux. Copyright infringement is in no way intended through the creation of this site. The story The Phantom of the Opera is the property of its respective copyright owners.
Erik smirked as he watched the rehearsals. He was hiding, as usual in this room, behind a panel in the wall that allowed him the best view of the stage. He'd orchestrated a small series of harmless "accidents" recently that caused a bit of a shortage in the understudies for the upcoming opera. And next in line for the role of understudy was none other than little Miss Daaé.
Now, she'll have to work harder. Get some lessons, think about the future with the company... Erik stifled a little laugh. When he thought about some of the accidents he'd caused, some of them were actually quite comical.
One of the members had a nervous breakdown because a "poltergeist" showed up in their room and destroyed everything while they went out to go to the restroom. Similar cases kept popping up with several members, and each case kept getting more and more ridiculous. If it wasn't evil ghosts, it was demons, and one member even claimed to be hearing voices coming from inanimate objects and was immediately sent to the hospital to see a doctor.
Erik, of course, was the source of all the shenanigans. And he was proud of his little achievements. It had allowed him to have a lot of fun and get to really know the members of the opera chorus without having to do much.
Post by Christine Daaé on May 24, 2013 2:21:46 GMT -5
Christine’s eyes were wide with anxiety as she held the inch-thick score for Rossini’s The Barber of Seville. How was any of this happening…? She wasn’t supposed to be in this sort of position. Her contract stated that she was to understudy when asked to, yes, but this… this was beyond anything that she had expected.
She wasn’t supposed to be understudying Rosina, no, but a series of… rather strange accidents had led to the unfortunate set of circumstances in which she found herself presently. There were whisperings about it having been ‘the Opera Ghost’ who had caused the bizarre string of occurrences among the performers. Frankly, Christine just thought the whole thing silly. After all, it didn’t take a genius to realize that there were no such things as ghosts…
And yet, here they were, rehearsing with multiple performers out due to what a ‘ghost’ had pulled on them. Christine said noting of her opinions about the matter though. After all, she did not wish to rub anyone the wrong way. If they chose to believe in such a silly thing as the Opera Ghost, then that was their business and not hers.
She sat in her chair in the rehearsal room as Monsieur Gabriel, the chorus master, reviewed the chorus part in a section. She looked over her score and sighed. How had she managed to get herself into all of this? She had come only to please Mamma Valerius, they had cut her off without allowing her to finish her aria… There was no reason really why she should have been there at all…
There she was. She was holding the score in her hands, looking a little distressed...but who wouldn't be distressed? This was her first season and she was already understudying a part, after all. Erik was rather smug with his achievement with her. He had said that she'd understudy if it came down to it. And here she was! Learning the part of Rosina! Now she'd have to work harder!
With a little huff, he settled into a comfortable position to observe the rehearsal. He wanted to see how she'd do. He wanted to see how she'd handle the pressure. If she did well, he'd find some way to reward her...Perhaps he'd leave a nice vase of flowers on her vanity on the night of the premier if she did especially well. After all, what woman didn't appreciate flowers?
Post by Christine Daaé on May 26, 2013 1:02:26 GMT -5
The girl stared blankly at the notes on the page as Monsieur Gabriel went over one particularly challenging line with the chorus members. Hearing them, the way he corrected them and attempted to guide them in the proper direction… it caused memories to come flooding her mind like a rush of water that came in with the storm tides…
She recalled when she was a child, and her father used to correct her as he taught her. His corrections were always firm, concise… but they were always done in love. For the longest time, they and their music had been all the two had, but now… now she didn’t even have that. Yes, Mamma had taken her in after the tragedy; she had given her a home, a new family of sorts… and yet none of it was the same. The only reason she continued singing at all was for Mamma Valerius’ sake, but it just wasn’t enough.
She pressed her lips together, her vision of the page blurring from the water of the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes and betray her emotions, and yet she dared not let them fall. No… the moment they fell, people would begin to wonder, and the moment they began to wonder, the moment she would have to explain… And if she were forced to explain, she knew that the memories would only come back even faster and make things far worse than they already were…
She lifted her head up, glancing frantically about the room for a moment before letting her eyes fall upon Monsieur Mercier. He was staring at her, and it took her a moment before it fazed her that this was because she was now standing suddenly in the middle of the rehearsal.
“Mademoiselle Daaé?” he asked her. “Are you quite all right? You seem a bit pale…”
“I…,” she began softly. She looked around with a deer-in-the-headlights expression upon her face before finally addressing his question. “I… I think I need to step out a moment to get some air…”
“Should I have someone fetch the doctor?”
“No… No, I… I’ll be fine… It’s just a bit warm in here, is all…”
Erik stopped situating himself and stood up completely. Something was wrong, he could tell by the way she spoke. Was she ill? She was looking rather pale...But...no, no, her eyes. Her eyes were frightened. She wasn't ill, if she were ill, her eyes would look pitiful. She didn't want to do this...She was stepping out, but not for air...no...she'd go back to her dressing room.
Erik was a step ahead of her, picking up his things and making his way out of the area. He sped past the other rooms, not even stopping to eavesdrop when he heard shouting coming from one of the office areas. No...finding out what was going on with her was taking more of a precedence in his mind. He finally came to the great two-way mirror and waited, vigilant and on his guard to see exactly what happened when she came in...
Post by Christine Daaé on May 26, 2013 1:37:55 GMT -5
Christine stepped out of the rehearsal room, leaving her score sitting in her chair, and then rushed down the hall seeking the security of her dressing-room. She didn’t know how much longer she could stand being in this place. She felt as if it were slowly smothering her in its purpose, and she did not wish to become a part of it.
Upon reaching her dressing room, she quickly closed and locked the door behind her, as if hoping to somehow keep out all of the terrors of the opera house in doing so. She stood there with her back pressed to the door for a moment, panting slightly like a little child who had just awoken from a nightmare where they had been running from some terrifying monster. To her, this place was terrifying.
After taking a couple of moments to catch her breath, she slowly moved away from the door and sat down at the vanity, looking at her reflection for a moment. The tears had begun to roll like pearls down her ivory cheeks. She stared at the face there in the mirror, which stared back at her in turn. Why couldn’t she be happy here? She knew that Mamma was partially right… it would have made her father infinitely proud to know that his little protégée had been accepted into the national company and was understudying a leading role, and yet… and yet it was painful.”
She allowed her head to drop so as her face was buried in her hands and let out an audible sob, her little fingers twisting into her blonde locks in a slight frustration and despair. What was she becoming? It wasn’t like her to be so very unhappy all of the time. Why did she feel trapped? Why did she feel so very lost and alone?
Erik watched Mademoiselle Daaé as she sobbed into her hands. He cocked his head, wondering why she was always so depressing. What was her problem? Was it her father? She wasn't in mourning, she wasn't wearing the customary black of someone in mourning. He leaned on the side of the mirror, crossing his arms.
Giving a little exhale, he furrowed his brow. She was such a sad girl. It seemed they had that aspect of personality in common. He'd never admit his own problems to anyone. As far as he was concerned, he didn't have problems. He was a perfectly...no, he wasn't normal. He could never be normal...
Alright, alright, I have to stop thinking this way. It'll only end in disaster... Erik gave another exhale, but this time it was heavier. He didn't want to think on their similar dispositions anymore, so he looked for some difference in her demeanour. Something to tell him that she was only sad because she was overwhelmed. Please...just let her be overwhelmed...
Post by Christine Daaé on May 29, 2013 0:49:00 GMT -5
Christine looked back up in the mirror, her eyes red from tears, and saw that her digging her fingers into her hair had caused it to come loose from its pinning. She sighed in frustration and wiped a few tears from her eyes before beginning to unpin her golden tresses. She gazed over at the little portrait sitting on her vanity and kept her teary eyes fixed upon it as she continued unpinning.
“I… I can’t do this, daddy. I just… I can’t… Not like this. I need you… please, Daddy… please help me… I don’t want to do this without you… without your help. You promised that you would help me. You… you promised…. Did you forget about the Angel when you went to heaven? How could you forget…? Did forget me too?... Daddy, please… I love you, please don’t leave me. Do’t leave me….”
Her hair now unpinned, she sat there, the tears beginning to roll again, and grasped the little frame, bringing it closer to her. She didn’t understand any of this… Her father would have never broken a promise to her, and surely not one he uttered with one of his last breaths to his only living kin. It was so very unlike him to forget… to abandon her….
Erik watched in silence as the girl unpinned her hair. It was actually quite nice hair, but she'd ruined the style by clawing at it. However, her distress was enough to dismiss the fashion travesty. She was talking to the portrait of her father again.
Mademoiselle Daaé was rather attached to her dead father...Erik sighed. She was such a sad little girl. It made Erik rather sad, watching her cry. She was never happy, it seemed. All her smiles must be fake, when it came to talking to others...She wore her own mask. Ha! A mask...Her own little emotional mask, to hide what she was really feeling. Apparently, this was some higher being's way of showing Erik that he wasn't the only one with problems around here.
Well, Erik wouldn't have it. He crossed his arms, tossing his head slightly. No one knew how he felt. He couldn't entertain the idea that anyone had their life as bad as his own, for it was quite impossible. This was childish, her obsession with talking to her dead father...begging him not to leave her. Well, he'd left. She'd best learn that and remember it. He wasn't going to come back. Nor was his Angel. For angels were things of God, and God had long since abandoned Erik...so why should he believe in them?
Post by Christine Daaé on May 31, 2013 13:01:46 GMT -5
The girl sighed and let go of the little portrait, setting it back down on the vanity. Why was she talking to him like this? She knew that it couldn’t change anything. He’d still be dead, he wouldn’t respond to her, and she’d still be as unhappy as she’d ever been. How could she be happy here?
The girl dried her tears as she continued to gaze upon the little portrait of her father that sat in front of her on the table. It would do her no good, hidden away and crying like this. She had to try to at least manage to get through this day, then she could worry about the rest of this from there. Just one more day…
She’d been telling herself this for quite some time now, to just manage to get through one last day… and yet it never failed the next day the same feelings of helplessness plagued her being. It was as if she were doomed to be in this miserable state for the rest of her life.
She began pinning her hair back up, gazing upon her father’s portrait in silence. What more could she do? She couldn’t just leave; then she’d be fired and poor Mamma Valerius’ heart would surely be broken. She couldn’t do that to her—not after all that the kind old woman had done for her in the past… She was running out of options as to how she could possibly escape.
Erik straightened. She was going back to rehearsal, it seemed. He harrumphed quietly to himself, turning to go back to the rehearsal room. Silly girl...Angels?...God? Those didn't exist. Or if they did, they only chose the select few to shed their glory on. And he certainly wasn't one of them. She shouldn't expect God to hear her prayers. Nor should she expect this Angel of hers to come to her. Such a foolish child....
Erik decided he would back to the rehearsal room after watching her pin her hair, determined to make her see this performance through. He'd be damned if he did all that work for nothing, and he'd see to it that people suffered should he have worked in vain.
Post by Christine Daaé on Jun 10, 2013 0:22:09 GMT -5
Christine finished re-pinning her hair as it had been before and observed herself in the smaller mirror. Everything seemed to be in order, though her eyes were a little red from crying. Perhaps she could cover up some of the redness around them at least by washing and applying a little bit of powder.
Her little hand swept over the bottles atop her vanity and stopped over one specifically. She picked up the little bottle labeled arsenic and got up to look for a cloth of some sort. She would rather not use the handkerchief she had with her—after all, she’d likely need it later on at this rate… Eventually. she did find wet it a bit in the basin of water she kept in the room before applying a few drops of arsenic from the bottle and making her way over to the large mirror.
Being rather careful not to get any of the arsenic water into her eyes, Christine carefully dabbed her face where it had grown a bit red and blotchy from her crying. Once she was satisfied with her work here, she dried it with the other end of the cloth and returned to her vanity, opening the little tin of powder and beginning to apply it to her face.
When all of that was said and through with, she gave her cheeks a little pinch and then took one final look in her vanity mirror. It was difficult to tell now that she had been crying only a few minutes earlier. She hoped that it would be enough to deter people from noticing the slight redness of her eyes stil.
As Erik took a few steps from the mirror, he watched her get up and attempt to fix herself. She wet a rag in her basin and then...then she walked straight up to him. They were feet from each other...No...they were much closer than that...He hadn't been this close to a woman in such a face to face setting before...And...
Her eyes...he'd never really noticed the colour of her eyes before. He hadn't really looked at them, and now she was staring straight at him. Well, straight at his chest, really...but what did it matter? She was looking at him! Even if she didn't know it...
Pale blue eyes...like the eyes of a porcelain doll...like the colour of old china, really...Erik shook his head. What was all this nonsense about eyes? He dismissed his thoughts, thinking perhaps he was just hungry or bored. Really, now, he'd stooped to a few low levels to rid himself of his boredom lately...He'd been attacking members of his chorus, spying on a new little Swede because her voice interested him, and he'd even followed her to her residence from the outdoor market! He really needed to find some new books or go out more often....
Post by Christine Daaé on Jun 11, 2013 0:50:01 GMT -5
Christine took a few deep breathes in order to make sure that she was nice and calm. Everything was going to be okay. All she needed to do was to manage to get through today and then maybe everything would be better tomorrow… Well, she highly doubted that there was a chance that would ever happen, but one could hope, could they not? After all what was there worth living for if one could not hope for something better than the present?
Once she was nice and calm, she straightened her vanity a little and then stood and left the dressing room in order to go back to the rehearsal. It was a rather leisurely walk, as she personally had little desire to be in the rehearsal at all, but at least she was returning. It was progress.
Erik took a moment to collect himself once the little Swede had left the room. He exhaled, and with a rush, he realized that he'd been holding his breath since they'd made eye contact...He leaned against a beam in the wall for support, and placed a hand on his stomach.
As he collected himself, he shook his head a little. He shouldn't let such little things like eye contact get to him...but...it was really the first time he'd looked into someone's eyes in a VERY long time...well, besides the Daroga. But he never counted the Daroga. And technically, he hadn't looked a woman straight in the eye for a good long while.
Erik straightened up, brushing the thin layer of dust from the beams off of his clothes. Next time, he wouldn't be phased...next time...
Erik walked back to the rehearsal rooms after the little Swede, making sure she'd gone back to the rehearsal he'd worked to get her. She had to go back, he wouldn't let her back her way out of this with excuses. He'd worked too hard for her opportunities.
|ADMIN KRISTINE|: Okay, please be patient, people. I'm working on getting the sidebars back up while we temporarily stay before the move. :/ chat is stil theruscribeside.chatango.com
Feb 1, 2014 23:18:33 GMT -5
Random Leroux fan: I ended up here while looking at pictures of Kristina Nilsson. I'm not really into RP or fanfic -- but am huge Leroux FdelO fan an I had fun reading the "profiles" for Christine and Erik here. Well thought out by ppl who know the org characters. Thanks!
Mar 21, 2015 16:51:04 GMT -5
O.G.: I came here looking to rp. However it seems as though, no one is using this site any longer. This is quite a disappointment. If this site becomes popular again I would love to rp here.
Dec 18, 2015 0:00:47 GMT -5
|ADMIN KRISTINE|: UPDATE: After some time, I am pleased to announce that the new site is in creation and well on its way. Our new host requires us to build completely from scratch, hence the extended time, but the general coding has been figured out, which means you can...
Jun 5, 2016 22:13:21 GMT -5
|ADMIN KRISTINE|: expect the new site soon. We apologize for tghe delay.
Jun 5, 2016 22:13:52 GMT -5
|ADMIN KRISTINE|: New site location is live at ruescribe.icyboards.net/index.php . Official re-opening is July 10th, but feel free to check us out and register before then format and skin are still under construction.
Jun 26, 2016 2:22:14 GMT -5
|ADMIN KRISTINE|: Site Awards nominations are now up on the IcyBoards site!
Aug 27, 2016 13:35:45 GMT -5