Mι∂ηιgнт Ɠяιη∂

[formidable]

Private AU/PSL RP. A tale of two brothers from alternate 1879 France, and the witch, her golem, and other colorful characters, who get entangled in their lives. Urban fantasy, steampunk, magic, guns, and coffee collide. ➤ PART I ➢ "La Caravane".

Comments

[effet]

He likes you.

[ Gus says with some finality, as if that's that. He also knows that Claude doesn't like liking people, but that's something else they'll discuss sometimes else...

...because holy shit, someone else is here. His shoulders draw up, alert. ]

Uhhh, yes, yes I did. Either we're hearing things, or someone very weird is down here.

[infusion]

[There's no time to spare with their previous conversation now. Iona is focusing very hard as the humming becomes clearer somewhat. The voice is... Absolutely beautiful, even more so than the voice they heard onstage from Christine Daae.

But it's hurting Iona's head and she clutches her forehead with one hand.]

Oh, god DAMN...!

[effet]

Io—

[ The rest is cut off when a similarly searing pain splits across Gus's skull, and he devolves into a stream of French curses, one hand instinctively reaching to try to support Iona while the other grapples with the wall. ]

—Come on, we need to find a place where the voice doesn't echo as much...!

[ Or else they'll suffocate under it, he fancies. He tugs Iona to the side, brows furrowing over narrowed eyes as he realizes that they've come to a fork in the passage: one leads up, the other further down. ]

[infusion]

... Okay, that? Let's not do that.

[She means the fork in the passage. They are not ready for that next level, not without really knowing with what they're dealing with.]

We're going back, okay Gus? We'll figure it out on safer ground.

[(Because any further down, they might lose each other, they'll get lost if they don't keep their hand to the level of their eyes.)]

[effet]

Don't worry! I've got goggles that have lenses that can see through the d...

[ And he rummages in his pockets for it, so sure that he's come So Prepared for adventure...

...except. He isn't??? So much for that. ]

...It's in my other jacket pocket!

[ Which one, though, he has so many... the point here is that he looks very distressed as he starts heading back in the direction they came, with Iona in tow. The doge is foiled again... ]

[infusion]

[He could have had it all...]

Yeah, I think we'll take that as a sign.

[How is it that the singing voice is so beautiful, so ethereal, but so maddening? Iona's frustrated that she can't confront it, not without getting the bigger picture. Back to where they come from then and the voice becomes fainter and fainter as they go further away.]

I'll seal the mirror in the room. Whoever is down there is gonna have to find another passage.

[effet]

[ The voice ebbs and so does the pressure in his lungs, that overwhelming weight. Ask Gus to pinpoint exactly what it was that made him so uneasy, and he couldn't tell you— no voice should be able to incapacitate a person, no matter how hauntingly beautiful— but he's finding more and more often that there are things he'd previously had no reference for that are, in fact, very supernatural and yet very real.

So here he is, pitching facefirst onto a pile of old jackets as Iona seals off the entrance to the basement dungeons. Like a big dog, he just. Lies there, limbs starfished and his voice muffled through thick fabric. ]

I don't want to dieeeeeeeeeeee. [ WOW GUS ]

1/2

[infusion]

[Smoke emits from Iona's fingers as she summons heat to seal the mirror, using whatever metal parts from the frame she can pick out. At Gus's reaction, she... Raises a brow. Usually, she was fine with pushing off or even excusing his sometimes charming childishness, but it was at this moment, she kind of understands why Oren of all people would be extremely reactive towards him.

That said, when she's done, she flicks his hair playfully with two fingers.]

Well, don't spend the rest of your life being eaten by jackets at the very least. C'mon, I'm gonna have to ask Oren about this.

[oren]

[While the dungeon crawling had been going on, Oren who stayed close by and behind Claude had simply turned his head once. He had only uttered one word which wouldn't have made much sense to the doctor.

"... Singing."

He even just left it at that. No extrapolation, no elaboration. Well, sure they're in an opera, but there was no one on stage, much less singing. Was his hearing just good too? He does ask Claude one question.]

Singer. She auditioned?

[pragnanz]

[ This wouldn't be the first time Oren's made some cryptic comment about something that Claude doesn't understand, but if there's one thing that the cynical doctor knows, it's that Oren never speaks without it being important.

Or, well. Semi-important, if his one-word jabs at Gus can be considered as such.

He turns in his seat discreetly, well aware that Oren is still invisible. ]

Mm. In a way, I suppose— she was 'referred'. [ Suggested as their first choice, by some twist of fate. Strange, since she'd been a complete no-name before that. ]

1/2

[oren]

It's good. Voice.

[High compliment coming from a rock.]

Taught well.

[infusion]

Oren! Orrreeeennn.

[Iona bounds down the path towards her golem and Claude, nearly breathless.]

Before either of you make a comment, no we didn't do anything illegal. On the other hand, we might have a teeny tiny problem?

[JUST. TEENY TINY ITSY BITSY.]

[pragnanz]

[ Oh my god... HE LEAVES YOU TWO ALONE FOR 30 MINUTES AND THIS HAPPENS

Claude leans on his armrest, looks back and forth between Iona and Gus.

And sighs. ]

I'd like to take a hard pass.

[ CLAUDE????? ]

[infusion]

[HUFFING IN INDIGNATION HERE?! ]

What's that supposed to mean?! Besides the problem here is that we got a creepy crawly underneath the building!

[pragnanz]

Nothing the police can't handle, I'm sure.

[ He says, full well knowing that the 'police' are a bunch of corrupt, inefficient fools.

Meaning: 'why do we have to get involved???' ]

[infusion]

I'm positive that we might actually be dealing with something that's in my neck of the woods, Claude.

That is unless you're used to phantoms.

1/2

[pragnanz]

Ah, of course.

We can't go a single outing without conjuring some demon from the underworld, it seems.

[ Meaning: OK FINE INVOLVE ME IN YOUR BUSINESS WHY WON'T YOU!! ]

[effet]

[ Gus, on the other hand, seems to have recovered from his previous spat of despondency, and beams with the power of roughly 3 suns. ]

We're gonna be Phantom Hunters.

[ Does he get a badge??? Tell him he gets a badge. ]

[infusion]

Okay, I know this is coming from me, but let's not get hasty here.

[She IS trying to be low key!]

Whoever or whatever's down there is gonna be nasty if we press on too quickly. And it might be a better idea to do some investigating. Who knows what's been going on behind the scenes now that we have an idea that there's more to the opera building, right?

[pragnanz]

[ There's a long pause on Claude's end, before he slumps into his seat and winds his fingers on his lap. ]

I'm inclined to agree. There's no moving forward if we're lacking in information.

[ Green eyes closed, he speaks with measured pauses. Considering his options carefully. ]

I have some contacts I can refer to. Some of the architects that worked on renovations of the opera house are clients of mine. Gossip is cheap.

1/2

[oren]

Ask if blackmailed.

[Oren interjects with an interesting suggestion.]

By someone else. Not family.

[OREN!?]

[infusion]

[Iona elbows Oren for that remark, but she seems heartened by Claude's contemplation.]

That's good! I think I can also add that you should make sure the questions are asked outside of the building.

[The witch looks back and forth and then up at the ceiling. Taking a step to the balcony railing she looks up into the rafters and the grand chandelier.]

Can't say he isn't listening right now even...

1/2

[pragnanz]

[ This certainly seems to be something of an incident, if such discretion is required. Claude may have to twist a few arms (literally) to find out what he has to, or, ugh, he may even have to... play nice. The things he does for dubious friendship.

But if someone may be listening in, Claude knows that it's best to act 'natural'. His lips curl up into his usual, practiced smile, and he segues the conversation smoothly into something else, as if they haven't been talking about anything ominous at all. ]

Of course. Confidentiality is key. [ Light, breezy. ] Now, will you be staying for the rest of the show, or will you be—

[effet]

[ —leaving, is what the rest of that sentence would have been, if Gus doesn't notice the slight swaying coming from above them, the creak of gears turning in a direction they're not meant to. Gus is in-tune with all the sounds and machinations that make this place run smoothly, and he can tell when something's gone awry...

...which is why he yells: ] Everyone, move! [ And points to one of the large rafters in the ceiling that's been partially dislodged, swaying dangerously over their heads.

A warning? He's sure it is, from whoever they heard singing in the basement. ]

[oren]

[Surprisingly, it's Oren who springs into action first.

Iona was about to leap down from the balcony, but Oren beats her to the punch. He's still unseen and invisible as he speeds towards the direction of the dangling rafter. His charge in the meanwhile tries to keep her composure, instead trying to look in the direction which Gus pointed.

Is there someone there? The shadows and distance between them and the ceiling is considerable and the seconds tick by as the rafter is agitated by someone. There are people below, in the middle of walking out or returning to their seats, some letting out screams as the rafter suddenly drops down.

And onto Oren. The object is heavy, but his Herculean strength is in full display even if he himself is invisible, giving the impression that the rafter is floating a few feet up in the air, giving people enough time to clear the area before he drops it down across a row of emptied seats.

(And his visage flickers slightly, like an aurora of lights, but only briefly, faintly.)

No fatal damage to anyone, but those seats are definitely scraped and the ceiling could use some work now.]