curtainsdown | now let's skip the tears and start on the whole-

[You remember dying. Maybe the memory is clear and bright and your body still aches from the cause. Maybe it was fast enough that you didn't feel it and don't remember what you went through. But no matter how you went out you're still trapped here.

When you open your eyes it might take you a minute to recognize your surroundings. For the executed, it's your dressing room. For the victims, you startle awake in the place your body was discovered. But no matter where you are nothing is where you remember it. It's like everything has been picked up and moved to the other side of the room. The entire room has been perfectly mirrored from what it used to be and, upon leaving, it seems the rest of the opera house is just the same. If you remember one room being in the east wing, it's now in the west. If it was in the west, it's now in the east.

Welcome back to the Opera House, friends. Even in death you're still in the woods.]

WEEK 1 | WEEK 2 | WEEK 3 | WEEK 4 | WEEK 5

[ooc: Welcome to deadland, darlings! It's a perfectly mirrored version of the Opera House and each week, as new people die after new floors have been revealed, the stairwell doors will unlock and allow you to reach them. For example, week 3 victims will unlock floor 2 and so on and so forth. Also, all dead characters will wake up at their actual canon point.

Have fun because we have some fun things planned for you.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You charmed a fallen angel. You really think he's gonna let something like jail stand in his way of getting back to you?

[ Her expression just crumbles and she buries her face in his chest. ]

H-he said- he was g- going to meet my- my t-team. F-f-friends. [ The word hurts in her mouth. ] He s-s-said- he was m-my own personal fallen angel.

[ She doesn't want to talk about him, with Stephen, because-- because she knows it must hurt. But, she misses him, that gentle love and approval, every day. ]

He will. You're important to him.

[It hurts, but- not as much as it could. Talking about Mephisto loving Riley is one thing. Talking about how Mephisto feels about him...

Stephen continues rubbing her back, just...trying to soothe her.]

And like I said- Jeremy and Christine could see you. Write you, if nothing else. Everybody who can, will. A lot of people care about you.

[ With a muffled whimper, she cries: ]

What kind of p-parents'll let their k-k-kid write to a c-convicted felon?!

[ It's followed by another burst of tears, and another wave of shame. Crying about going to jail, for something she did. Lives she stole. Pathetic, aren't you pathetic, too pathetic to even get away with it. ]

I-I knew Che- Chess since...we were k-kids, Farrah was- was fifteen, and I- I helped send Mattie t- to prison, she's just- she's younger than Red! They're g-gonna think I'm- know, that- I am dangerous.

[ She swings rapidly, from urgently needing connection and feeling sickened by it. Knowing she's not strong enough to do this alone, but loathing herself to even dream... ]

[They don't have to know. Except- that's not right. He doesn't have an immediate answer to that, not that isn't patronizing.

Except...]

You were dangerous. And maybe you still could be, but- so could I. And, Riley? [He reaches down to touch her chin, force her to look up] You wanna know why I told you that you weren't like Angus, before? It's because you felt bad about what you'd done. You said it was a mistake. You knew you'd done wrong, and- that means there's a part of you that still wants to be better. I want to believe there's a part of Angus, too.

So let's get better. Okay?

[ That moment was so far away until now. Everything from that day is like...like looking back through a shifting kaleidoscope. Every so often, Riley gets a full, yet refracted, picture. A small whimper escapes her, as he brings her face up to look at her. She’s a mess of tears, hair puffy and out of place from shoving herself at him, and what he says prompts a hiccup of a breath, as she looks at him with a blurry gaze. ]

Th-the way everyone- all of you—the way C-Cai looked at me... I don’t... I can’t stop thinking... H-how can I be better...without her?

[ You are nothing, you have nothing,
Without— ]

I ruined...whatever w-we could’ve-

[Her words make him think of Mephisto, and this time- this time, it does hurt. To betray him, not once but twice- Stephen swallows, not letting her look away, as he forces himself to also think of his talk with Richard.]

Because we owe the ones we hurt to be better.

[His voice is soft, pained]

Even if we don't get to be with them, we owe them.

[ Riley whimpers. She doesn't mean for it to slip out, but it does anyway. There's a lot she doesn't mean that still happens, isn't there? ]

I-it hurts. She was the...the only person, I could... The only one who- [ The words catch in her throat, and they're presumptuous. She...can't be sure. But, thinking of days getting caught in the rain, nights drifting off head on her shoulder, strong arms and gentle fingers caressing her cheek— ]

Who loved me.

[There's honestly not much he can say to that. Or sing. His throat has closed off, only allowing him to breathe, no more; there's a heavy weight in his chest that's like lead. Wordlessly, he gives her another squeeze, allowing her to hurt- and simply being her for there in the midst of it.

What else can he do?]

[ Riley's been sitting with this hurt for weeks. Ever since- well, before she died, back when she started to connect the puzzle pieces of her fucked up memories. So, right now she just...slumps forward. Letting him hold her and...hold her up, as well. One of her hands has fallen to the teddy bear, still between them.

She sniffles. Lets out a small breath. Feels the stone from the crypt against her arm. And just...lets herself feel this.

And... ]

When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful.
Every hour we spent together lives within my heart.

And when I was sad, she was there to dry my tears.
And when she was happy, so was I.
When she loved me.

[ That's...what it was, wasn't it? That's what she was feeling, all those years. Too blind, too...focused, on looking for love from people who were never going to give it to her. ]

Through the years when we were small,
We had each other, that was all.
Just she and I together, like it was meant to be.
And when I was lonely, she was there to comfort me.
And I knew that she loved me...

now let's skip the tears and start on the whole-

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