sweethymns | Mι∂ηιgнт Ɠяιη∂

Wait for it... wait for it...!

[ Hopping over a box holding more props (a wind-up monkey, how quaint), Gus whisks Iona over to a rather ornate door to the side of the stage. He doesn't knock, nor bother asking for permission before flinging the entrance open and gesturing theatrically into the space. ]

—Ta-da!

[ It's... a dressing room, though it seems to have been abandoned for a while: there's a thin layer of dust over the mirrors lining the wall, a feeling of antiquity and silence that comes into stark contrast with the business of the rest of the place. The costumes still hanging from their racks have also collected a film of dirt, easily restored to their previous splendor with a bit of sunny air. ]

—The old dressing room! I forgot why they made a new one... something to do with this one being too hard to go in and out from? Kind of weird that they just left it the way it was instead of clearing it out, but— hey, it's interesting, right?

Huh. I... I like it.

[Iona looks around genuinely, if quietly in awe.]

For a second, I almost thought we were going to walk in on someone changing. I don't think our Miss Christine Daae would have appreciated that.

[Her fingers graze the mirrors creating streaks in the glass. She lifts her fingers to gaze at the dust she collected.]

Why do you suppose they haven't cleaned out this room yet?

Hey...! Even I'm not that bad. I knock! Usually.

[ Pouting for a second in mock-indignance, Gus meanders through the room with a practiced ease, as if he's shut himself in here when he wanted a bit of time alone. (He has.) ]

Why, though... maybe because it's not the safest place to be if there's a mechanical failure or a fire? No one really seems to know the full story. Mysterious, huh.

Edited 2016-06-07 05:39 (UTC)

[Okay, she can't help herself. She has to ask. The room feels chilly to her and she pulls the cloak a little more closely to her shoulders.]

Do weird things happen in the theater here? There always seems to be something up with the dramatic types, especially behind the scenes. I mean, I would know, I talk to some of them back at school.

Weird... like, technical failures weird, or...

[ He makes a vague hand gesture here, supposedly to indicate 'supernatural'. ]

...weird weird? The staff here call me over a few times a month because the equipment acts up in certain performances, but that's all they'll tell me about it. There's a rumor that this place is bigger than it looks, too, but the building specifications should have been approved by our family, so...

[ For a second, Gus looks a bit sharper than he usually does: evaluating, considering. ]

...Do you feel something off about this room?

I feel that your staff is withholding information...

[Both hands are on the mirror now and she taps the surface with her palms.]

But yeah. Something's off. And maybe we should look into that rumor if my hunch is right...

Claude might know something more about the situation, actually. People gossip a lot around their family doctor around here.

[ 'A false sense of security', Claude would say. It doesn't hurt that he's moderately good-looking enough.

Gus takes to investigating, tapping the line of mirrors along the wall to see if the wall sounds hollow on the other end. ]

He takes care of a lot of people doesn't he? Hopefully more than I think anyways.

[Well. If it's Claude...

Iona feels troubled asking him about anything at the present moment, a concern she hasn't voiced nor does she want to yet. His last visit to the Grind had left her wondering. More aware of how the situation around them is so perilous at times and the peace they found with each other, was only in the Midnight Grind, and yet there was this tension she wasn't sure how to approach yet.

The witch puffs up her cheeks and pats down the mirror again, this time a little more strongly with her right arm. The mirror vibrates.]

Okay, so it feels solid at first-- That's the wall, but maybe if we pull it...??

Edited 2016-06-07 06:46 (UTC)

[ If Gus's noticed that his half-brother seems somewhat high-strung, he hasn't said anything about it yet. Claude operates on a plane that's entirely different to his own, and Gus knows that he can push as much as he wants and his brother will yield without question. It's because that's what Claude believes is his role. Gus doesn't like that— he'd rather his brother be forthcoming on his own terms, not because he nagged.

It's complicated.

She sidesteps the issue of recruiting Claude, and Gus defers to it with a self-awareness that people might not expect of him. But it's built into his bloodline, and he treats the situation with a curious grace.

He goes back to investigating. ]

Mm— maybe? Keep on trying, I wanna take a look at something.

[ Shuffling over to the closet, Gus pulls it open and crouches down, as if he's looking for something in particular. ]

[Iona takes a step back, putting one part of her cloak over her shoulder and stretching out her right arm and moving it around in circles to prep herself.]

Alright! This shouldn't take that much effort so lemme just pull...

[She's only using her fingertips and already the mirror is beginning to give a little by opening forward like a door. Iona glances into the mirror and is startled— a slender face, narrow eyes, a white mask, solid yet not, staring right at her—]

WHOA!

[She says that out loud and takes a step back. She blinks twice. The dust may be obscuring her view and yet...]

Gus?

I don't think this is a just a mirror...!

Edited 2016-06-07 07:08 (UTC)

[ Gus'd been checking the closet for a trapdoor, but apparently Iona's on to something. So he picks himself up from a pile of dusty clothes, shakes out some dirt from his hair to make his way on over to whatever she's found, which seems to be— ]

—Whoa, alright, that's. Creepy.

[ Some guy has a weird fetish........ ]

You think someone's been using this place for... [ he squints. ] ...reasons?

[ Gus what the hell is that supposed to mean ]

[Don't be lewd Gus, Iona lets out a huff of breath again. The masked figure has disappeared, but it should be clear to them now...]

It's a mirror on this side... But for the other side...

[Iona's pulling the mirror open with both hands now and the mirror swings forward revealing another hallway with stone walls and unlit, but used and half-melted candles. When viewing the opposite side of the mirror that was opened, it can be observed that one can look out into the dressing room.]

Huh. One rumor down Gus.

[Iona looks at him seriously with an affirmative nod.]

The theater's even bigger than we imagined.

Edited 2016-06-09 05:52 (UTC)

...So you think there's foul play going on?

[ He's not quite sure what to think of that, given that nothing explicitly bad has been called to his attention as of yet— maybe Claude knows, he's more politically inclined. ]

You know, you're pretty good at getting yourself into trouble, Iona.

Haa... Well, that's being a witch for you! Trouble is a friend.

[She takes a step inside the hallway and offers a hand to Gus.]

C'mon! You're not gonna let me disappear into the Creep Hallway by myself are you?

Well...

[ There's a flicker of hesitation as he looks back and forth between the rest of the room and Iona, as if he's not certain whether or not to get his hands down and dirty in this affair if there's nothing really threatening about it. After all, he knows his father and what he's done to make tonight a success.

He's not afraid of his kin, but he absolutely hates having to deal with the aftermath of things.

But he finally concedes, not just because he's thirsty (he is), but because he's curious.

Curiosity killed the cat, etc. ]

...Alright. Don't make too much of a mess, okay?

[ A light grin, and he takes her hand to go into the deeper recesses of the theater. ]

Don't worry about it! Let's not go too far to begin with.

[The hallway seems rather long and at the end of it, there's a dip, indicating a staircase.]

Do you think there's more than one person here? It looks like it'll just go deeper and deeper if we're not careful.

[ It's dark, and muggy, and most of all, it smells like death in here— not bad, per se, but musty, like dried bones and crumbling paper.

Gus wrinkles his nose, swipes his hand against molded walls. Regrets it, and wipes his palm on his ludicrously expensive slacks. ]

Can't really think of one person that would want to be here, let alone more... [ it really is pretty depressing in here, like traversing through a dungeon. ] If the place does go deeper, it'll sink into the sewer system. A lot of complicated systems run underground, so who knows what kind of traps we'll have to deal with if we keep going down...

Traps?

[Iona lights up at the word. She shouldn't though!?]

Oh, but yeah, we better be careful about those then.

[A beat and she turns to look at Gus curiously.]

Would you be able to disarm one if you could study one?

[ Iona always seems to brighten up at the mention of Bad Things... why is that, huh!!! Even he's not that reckless?!

Except he is, because he puffs up and looks immeasurably proud of himself at this next comment: ] Of course! Who do you think I am? I'm only the best tinkerer in the city!

[ On second thought, this isn't really the most glamorous title in the world, huh. ]

I betcha' you are!

[Even in the middle of this dank and darkening dungeon, her words and attitude are bright. She gestures at her head with a light fist.]

You're rather goofy a lot of the time, but Oren says you've got a lot more going on in your noggin than you let on. So I trust I'm in good hands!

[Are you Iona?!

(They're being watched from the shadows, he's not too far away, but he's waiting, watching, let's not be hasty...)]

Did he really say that?

[ Oren? Color him surprised, to be perfectly honest— sometimes he wonders if Oren doesn't think he's a complete airhead.

(He wouldn't be wrong, but he wouldn't be entirely right, either).

They press into the dark, cold depths of the under-theater dungeon, heavy with antiquity and something else; something vaguely morose, like years of regret and rage. Like crawling into someone's unpleasant subconscious.

Gus's expression turns a touch more somber. ]

Hey. You want to talk about something?

Something like that. But you know, more choppy like he is usually.

[As they move along, Iona pulls her cloak over her shoulders again. The atmosphere, is getting to her whether she wants to admit it or not. When Gus speaks, she looks up at him.]

Sure? What about? Something you wanted to ask me, but you haven't gotten to yet?

It's about me.

[ Which seems like a weird thing to say, but he also realizes that she doesn't know much about him, all things considered. For someone as open as Gus, he keeps his personal life fairly well under wraps... which might be strange, a little perplexing.

His expression borders on something warm, but also hesitant. Like he expects her to say 'no', that she doesn't want to hear it. ]

D'you mind?

Edited 2016-06-22 01:42 (UTC)

... No. No, I don't mind at all.

[Iona looks faintly surprised at the fact that Gus is being open in a different way than usual. She and Oren never did push the Aubert brothers about what their life entailed (they made some dreary guesses on their own), but in the end they were guests of the Midnight Grind, that special in between that made it possible for them to even meet in this lifetime.]

Feel free to tell me anything you're comfortable with.

[ And he draws a long breath, head tipped up to face the dim ceiling covered with moss and cobwebs. In a way, he doesn't like talking about himself just as much as Claude. Not about the things that 'matter', or the things that aren't about the here and now. ]

Mm, well.

[ Maybe it's just the air in this place. It makes him melancholy, as if all his secrets will die here if he doesn't say them out loud. ]

The first time I remember meeting Claude was in a place like this. A basement. [ The cellar of some safehouse, he remembers— his barely teenage half-sibling in a pressed vest and slacks, standing by himself by a row of old wine bottles and empty crates. As if he'd been collecting dust there for decades, too.

Gus was only four, but he remembers. ] My family's really... uptight? Well, my father is, at least. I guess he never liked that Claude was the one thing that didn't go 'right' for him, you know?

I guess this place made me think about it. What it would be like, if someone really had to live in a place like this for their entire lives.

[ His argument is a bit disjointed, as if he can't really figure out what it is he wants to say: whether he wants to talk about how unhappy he is about some facets of his life, or if he's expressing some sort of remorse for not having found this place sooner. ]

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